cressiprompts

[cressiprompts]

[cressiprompts]

[cressiprompts]

young boys💫

[cressiprompts]

Fanfic reader's prayer: may my favorite author's hyperfixation on this fandom last longer than mine 🙏

[cressiprompts]

⚽️get to know me: football edition⚽️

feel free to reblog and use on your account!!

what team do you support?

who is your favourite player?

when did you start watching football?

what is your favourite stadium?

have you ever been to a football game?

have you ever played football on a team?

what is your favourite football chant?

what national team do you support?

what is your favourite kit design?

what is the most memorable game you have watched?

who is your least favourite football player?

who do you think is the greatest player of all time?

are there any players you thing have the potential to be the next messi/ronaldo?

who is your least favourite football team?

does your club have a derby?

what is your favourite quote said by a footballer?

what is your dream starting XI?

do you think there is a player/players that have potential to be one of the greats?

what is your favourite football competition? (eg. european cup, world cup, euros)

who do you think is the funniest football player?

which football player do you think has the best style?

who is your favourite wag?

if you didn't support your club which other team would you support?

do you watch women's football?

have you ever met any footballers?

what player would you have at your club if you could?

would you consider your team to be one of the best in the world?

is there a stadium you would like to visit that you haven't?

do you think your team can win some silverware this season?

have you ever fallen out with someone over football?

[cressiprompts]

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Men's Football RPF Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Jamie Carragher/Gary Neville Characters: Jamie Carragher, Gary Neville Additional Tags: Porn with Feelings, Porn With Plot, I just wanted to write Jamie being dicked down, I still want to write that, Let's see if I can get to it, Humiliation kink, Feminization, Light Masochism Summary:

Jamie is conflicted about working with Gary, though he would enjoy having sex with him again.

#carraville #my fic

[cressiprompts]

[cressiprompts]

Hi, Sorry for not having uploaded many drawings this year, I'm just too lazy, but I promise to upload many more in 2024 🫡

Happy new year 😶‍🌫️

[cressiprompts]

ao3 wrapped [writers edition]

How many words have you written this year?

How many works did you publish this year?

What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

What work of yours has the most hits?

What work of yours got more feedback than you expected?

Favorite title you used

If you use song lyrics, which artist’s songs did you pull from the most?

Pairing you wrote the most for this year?

Favorite pairing you wrote for this year?

What work was the quickest to write?

What work took you the longest to write?

How many WIP’s do you have in your docs for next year?

What’s your longest work of the year?

What’s your shortest work of the year?

What WIP are you taking into next year with you?

What’s your most common “Additional Tags” tag?

Your favorite character to write this year?

The character that gave you the most trouble writing this year?

What’s one pairing you want to explore next year?

Which work of yours have you reread the most?

How many kudos in total did you get this year?

Which work has the most comments?

Did you do any collaborative works this year?

Did you write any gifts this year?

Did you receive any gifts this year?

What’s your most common category?

What do you listen to while writing?

Favorite work you wrote this year?

Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

Biggest surprise while writing this year?

[cressiprompts]

to be perfectly honest. i don't care if it is cheesy or cliched or idealistic. i like stories where the core of it is about kindness, the warmth we can offer others and the gentleness we receive in return. maybe the moral of the story IS love triumphs. it better fucking be

[cressiprompts]

spotify wrapped is HERE! send me a number 1-100 and I’ll tell you the song it corresponds with on my top 100 playlist

[cressiprompts]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

[cressiprompts]

Update on fic:

I had/have a small writer's block (too long since I wrote Carraville I guess), but I currently have 600 words that I will keep. Next chapter is probably going to be the last, I really don't think I can write a lot of that fic anymore, but it will have an end, and a coesive one even if I have to beat it into shape and words...

After that, In a Bind.

#my fics #carraville

[cressiprompts]

oh that's okay. hope you are doing well & not stressing yourself to finish your stories plls take care.

i would love to know the plot and scenes that you thought of🤗

Hello, sorry for taking a while!

so, because there are SPOILERS for the main story of You made flowers, I'm going to put the plot after the "read more:

SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS

What I had written:

The first signs of the illness took him by surprise. The heaviness on his chest suffocating on some days, on others being negligible. He had more important things to worry about, especially as no club doctor was able to find anything wrong with him, telling him the sensation might be psychological. 

Which only made Anto raise an eyebrow and be on his case about seeing someone, didn't matter if it was a psychiatrist, psychologist or therapist. He couldn't even blame her. The throwing up sickness he had was bad enough on its own, after all. The last thing he wanted was another non-explainable thing, especially if it messed up his breathing, something essential to him as an athlete.

Still, Lionel dragged his feet. Opening himself up to a stranger was almost inconceivable. It was hard enough talking to his friends and family! The idea of being vulnerable with someone he had no true assurances of, that he had no idea of their character or proof of their intentions beyond a flimsy oath that could be disregarded with few true consequences? It was the stuff of his nightmares.

In the end, he hadn't needed to go, the cough had manifested first, bowing down Lionel before dinner and scaring little Thiago. Antonella calmed the boy as Lionel recovered his breath after the sudden bout of illness. It was Thiago who first noticed the petals, the soft orange of their color contrasting with the dining table's wood, the toddler's little hands trying to catch them in his pudgy fingers, even as his mother drew him away. 

Both adults looked at the appearance of them uncomprehending. The only flowers on the table were on the centerpiece vase, and those were red roses that served as a decoration, so the petals were a mystery — one that would have to be solved much later, as Antonella was more worried about how Leo kept coughing and complaining about his breathing. She all but marched him to the doctor, but nothing was found through x-rays.

It wasn't until Leo coughed up a petal in his own hand that they associated one thing with the other, and they went back to see a specialist, to understand what was happening.

This si the first difference: Leo and Anto are doing this TOGETHER. they get the diagnosys together, and while they fight, it's less bitter, because Anto doesn't feel as if she was put aside, as if Leo doesn't trust her, even if it hurts that he doesn't love her anymore.

He does.

He does.

When she gets away for two weeks, to think better on what she's going to do, Leo gets sicker, and now he is throwing Red Rose petals too. Anto goes back, to help, and because she doesn't want to be irrevocably cut from Leo, even if he doesn't love her like she loves him.

Aaaand... yeah, The red rose petals are for Anto. When Leo's family discovers that, Matias makes a very inconvenient joke about how greedy his little brother is, what with loving to people and not wanting to give up on either.

Even after that discovery, Anto asks for more time, even if it's inside their house, because she has to think if she can deal with sharing Leo's atention and affection with someone.

Either way, she stills helps with trying to find who it is that Leo loves, because he is the father of her children, and she doesn't want him to die.

When they discover it's Cristiano, it's a bit like: "wait, what?" for teh entire family, and both of Leo's aprents are... disappointed, and very much against any contact between the two players.

The family fights pretty badly about what to do, until Leo says he doesn't want to try and force somethign with Cristiano. So instead they go back to the doctor and ask if there's any way to make this work.

Basically, Leo survives by having small doses of Cristiano's presence when they are not playing together — they have "surprise" meetings in high end restaurants, fashion events, parties and whatever places Leo's family can discover that Cristiano will be there. That's enough to tide him over, keeping him marginally healthy, and with less attacks. The amount of Classicos they play help too.

Anto decides to stay with Leo, even if she hates how he's destroying himself in longing, how stupid he is by thinking he will be less of a man by loving another man. Some of their fights are just about that.

They stay in this stalemate for years...

Until Cristiano says he will change teams and play in italy. They can't engineer "convenient" happenstance appearances in Italy, ways for Leo to meet him, be at the same place.

So they have to talk with Cristiano, and explain what''s been going on.

It takes a while for him and his entourage to believe Leo's story and condition (the Messi's end up giving the medical files they have).

So they settle appointments with time and date for them to meet, and it's the most awkward thing. For the first time, Leo's family realises they are asking this man, this person to have life and death power over their son, brother, husband.

Everyone suffers, and Cristiano's not really happy with the situation either, buyt he also doesn't want the other man to die.

All this while he's in a relationship with Georginna and waiting for the twins to be born. He's stressed and under enough pressure to make the move work for him, so Leo's problems don't help.

It makes things even harder when Georgina has a miscarriage and loses Alana, and the couple breaks up because while she still likes him, she can't deal with the twins while knowing her little baby girl is dead.

Cristiano is also suffering, but he has to pay attention to the twins, has to train, and is exhausted, he doesn't know many people yet on the club, and doesn't really trust anyone to take care of the twins. He's on a spiral, and Leo notices when he visits the next time.

He's a father too, and while he can't udnerstand that kind of loss, he asks if he can try and get trustworthy babysitters from the other Argentinians who live there or nearby. Cristiano agrees, more out of exhaustion than anything else.

Leo talks with Anto, and... she kind of takes over, declares a holiday, marches her husband back to Italy and goes herself with their children.

In two days, there's a reliable babysitter, Cristiano is stunned because Anto pretty much took over his house, Cristianinho and Thiago are getting along like a house on fire, and the ration of Argentinians to Portuguese is way too much in favor of the Americans.

Things between Cristiano and Leo get better from there, and Cristiano and Anto start talking too.

From the closeness of their children, things slowly start to fall in place. They start becoming friends, and that's somethign they intentionally let the news know (so Leo and his family can come over with less trouble).

And... that was all I had an idea for.

#writing #my fics #you made flowers AU

[cressiprompts]

So... I guess "How did it come to this" is the next fic to be updated! I didn't think there would eb that many carraville people here on tumblr, hi!

After that In a Bind, then "You made flowers" and so on. Heads up that I will probably update only on January, maybe — I have my finals on the end of November, and there's an exchange fic I have to get ready for December.

But yeah, I will try and get things ready before that.

Fic poll

There are other fandom fics I will be working on, but I normally write about 3 fics at teh same time, because if I try to focus on only one, I get bored and irritated.

This will inform the order, so 1º place is what I will focus the most, 2º place the one I will consider next and so on.

#carraville #fic #writing

[cressiprompts]

hey I know you are busy and all. i just wanted to know if the au of you made flowers grow in my lungs with leo/anto/cristiano is ever happening cuz i haven't seen it in your polls and I was looking forward for it. ( it's okay if it's not happening just wanted to know cuz not knowing anything about it is driving me up the walls) thxsss

Hello!

At the moment I don't think it's going to happen, as I have way too many WIPS and I'm feeling a bit stretched too thin to start another WIP fic without finishing something else first.

I can give you main plot points I was planning and scenes I thought about, knowing that some plot points are similar to You made the flowers, if you want?

Sorry for not being able to give better news :(

#writing

[cressiprompts]