#forebodes

[inhexe]

@forebodes requested an arranged marriage starter

Letheia hasn't yet touched her bride. The ceremony that will bind them is still a few weeks away, and the span of time exists between the two of them as well, as a polite, formal distance.

The young woman she will marry always seems to itch: itching inside the heaviness of her formal clothes, itching inside the ritualized conduct of feasts, parties, and honor-giving, itching inside the marital arrangement her parents have made for her. Sitting at the head of the feast table now, Caitlyn at her right, Letheia can almost feel the itch in her periphery.

There's music, there's dancing. She doesn't ask the girl to dance. Instead, she leans close; a blue lock of hair brushes the verdant bridge of her nose as she murmurs into Caitlyn's ear. "Let us adjourn," she says. "I would rather us... Talk. Somewhere less noisome." She could, but does not yet, touch Caitlyn's hand.

[threadpull]

[ ache ] for jon, from avery? i almost jumped the gun and sent one from ed but i behaved...

@forebodes / kissing meme / always accepting

"You're doing very well, Avery."

He means it. Jonathan hasn't ever crossed a patient with such an interesting fear response. It seems the Murkoff trials have done something incredibly unique to McGinnis, though Jonathan isn't sure he ever should have supplied them with any of his fear toxin in the first place. Whatever happened to Avery to cultivate this response must have been... Invasive. Even by Jonathan's standards.

When he was watching Avery before all of this, he saw those black-outs. He saw what Avery has done to people.

Maybe what happens next is Jonathan's fault. He's grown fond of Avery. After all, that feeling has been there, hasn't it? It's why he took Avery in the first place. He couldn't just watch him anymore; he had to have him.

The restraints come off, and Jonathan cups Avery's face with one hand. Gently grazes his thumb along Avery's cheekbone. He's awfully touchy, awfully close. It's admittedly skirting on inappropriate, but Avery... He responds well to it. And it's important to Jonathan that he comfort a patient after each session.

Jonathan also isn't very good at denying himself what he wants.

His other hand finds Avery's shoulder. And he's about to speak again, but his words catch in his throat when he takes in Avery's gaze. Half-lidded, dreamy. For a moment, all he can do is look into them, wondering what Avery is thinking of. And maybe he would have asked, but the answer is discovered quickly - Avery's freed hands grab at Jonathan's lab coat and reel him in. For a kiss.

Don't. Don't. Don't.

He shouldn't kiss a man. He shouldn't kiss a patient. He shouldn't kiss someone after a session, of all things.

He shouldn't. He does.

It's fiery, passionate. More like they both want to consume each other than simply kiss. And it's not just a kiss - Jonathan can't help himself. No, this is the release of tension he's been holding in and doing his best to ignore. His hands are shaking. He climbs up onto the chair, putting himself over Avery. Grabs hold of Avery's face with both hands, kissing him deeply.

No, he's not very good at denying himself what he wants.

[pantichrist]

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪   “  ⸻  wow,  i  never  seen  one  that  big  before.”      tongue  swipes  over  plush  lower  tier,  melodic  giggle  ringing  free.    “ya  camera.  that  things  gotta  be  from,  like,  the  90's  or  some  shit.”     a  scrunch  of  her  nose.     “can  i  hold  it?” ♥ @forebodes - august.

[lwyrsdghtr]

@forebodes howard.

hamlin hamlin mcgill is not the ideal spot for a teenage girl to spend her time, but jade will take it. she’s made a habit of curling up in a particular spot in the break room while she pours over her school textbooks. you can tell when jade has been there simply by judging how the coffee supply has depleted. sometimes she wanders, making her way down to the mail room or the cornfield, as some employees oh so affectionately call it. most of the employees know she is by now, and she’s become somewhat of a runner for things like coffee and miscellaneous snacks from the vending machines. an afternoon can pass by easily enough like this.

while she’s on her way to drop off some snacks from the vending machine to some of the low level interns, she spots howard making his way down the same corridor. she doesn’t see much of him during work hours, nor chuck for that matter. their the namesakes, the busy ones, people she knows she shouldn’t pester. but a simple greeting wouldn’t be pestering, would it? no, she doesn’t think so.

“ hey mr. hamlin, ” she offers with a grin as she approaches, “ i’m here after school again. want a nutter butter? ”

[nightsprung]

it's rare for jordan to feel out of her element; she's accustomed to thinking on her feet, opening herself up to any and all possibilities that present themselves to her. and still, her legs feel heavy as she steps off the bus and begins what feels like an endless walk down cedar avenue to the half-painted house just short of the end of the street. she gives a cursory glance over her shoulder, then another when she gets a few houses further. the sun is starting to set and there's not many — really, any — people out and about, but she's still get the feeling that she's being watched eating away at her. her pace picks up.

the vortex club has been good to her and maybe that's why she's taken this long to come around. there's a certain loyalty she feels to her fellow club members, but lately things have gotten out of hand. been weighing down on her. she thinks of the video of kate and her stomach lurches. maybe that's what pushes her the rest of the way. her social standing doesn't really matter when girls are getting drugged out of their mind at parties and their names are getting dragged through the mud.

she's at the front door and her hand is rapping against the surface, three times. ' mr. madsen? ' a pause, another three raps. ' mr. madsen, it's jordan — I, uh. need to report a robbery from my dorm. ' good one, jordan, that's so convincing.

@forebodes sent in ⚠️ for an urgent starter for david madsen, featuring jordan riley.

[mistrial]

@forebodes / avery mcginnis.

          ONCE OWEN IS CAPABLE  of helping the other passengers stabilize after the wreckage, he begins to move like a tornado. he turns himself around to check on someone coughing behind him and she gives him a thumbs up to signal that she's fine. he turns again, moving as fast as he can across wet sand to jump into the plane and assist a woman who's struggling to remove her seatbelt. he sees a jagged piece of metal, grabs it, and uses it to saw through the polyester and release her from her seat. "go, get back toward the trees," he tells her urgently, pointing in the direction he wants her to go with a hand that is now sore and bleeding from putting pressure on the metal he used to free her. when he drops himself back down out of the cabin and into the sand that tries to envelop his feet upon impact, he sees the outline of a familiar face from the corner of his eye. avery.

          as the law student approaches his teammate he realizes first that he's aliive--- he can see his eyes fluttering, just barely, and his chest rising and falling--- and second that he's not just lying on his back, he's trapped beneath one of the plane's dislodged rear stabilizers. this makes owen move more quickly, almost tripping himself in the sand, and rather than coming to a graceful stop beside avery he just lets himself drop onto the ground by his head. "hey! hey, avery, man, you're here, right? you're with me?" he asks, one hand resting on avery's shoulder as he assesses the situation in front of him. he's going to need help, and even if they do manage to get his leg out from under the plane...

          a dark but necessary thought crosses his mind: there's a crash axe on the plane. he calls for someone, and when the shaky flight attendant comes over he grabs her arm, pulls her down, and quietly asks her to go retrieve the axe. her eyes go wide and she looks down at avery before shock crosses her features and she nods, pulling away from him. 

          owen feels like a boulder has just been dropped on his chest. there's no way this is the only option, right?

[voracem]

 “You seem like a good man, Coriolanus Snow. It would have been nice to meet you under different circumstances.”

" hey, gorgeous. here for the show? "

she'd noticed him immediately. it was hard not to, really. she didn't often see academy rouge in pluribus' club, after all.

then again, she'd be lying if she pretended the uniform was all that caught her eye. he was striking. he had grabbed her attention just by walking into the room; it seems only fair that she take a little of his.

@forebodes

[grote5querie]

the  split  in  her  lip  still  burns  from  the  last  time  momma  took  her  out  back  to  teach  her  a  lesson.      another  one  of  those  moments  when  misty  dawn  hadn’t  even  opened  her  mouth  before  claudine  decided  she  needed  to  be  beat  for  whatever  was  about  to  come  out  of  it.      dragged  by  the  hair,      her  scalp  screaming,      old  wood  scraping  against  her  skin  and  the  kicking  of  her  feet  until  her  knees  met  grass.      then   —   black.      she  hates  it,      the  way  she  still  cries  when  momma’s  rage  spills  over.      maybe  it’s  because  she  wants  someone  to  feel  sorry  for  her.       maybe  it’s  just  that  she  feels  too  damn  sorry  for  herself.      perched  up  on  her  bed,      arms  wrapped  tight  around  her  knees,      she  stares  at  nothing  while  skeeter  davis  hums  low  from  the  record  player.      then  comes  ray’s  voice,      cutting  through  the  music,      and  misty’s  green  eyes  snap  up  to  him.      it  hurts  to  scowl,  but  she’s  stubborn.

‘ do you crave attention? any kind of attention? ‘ misty dawn, from reb. / @forebodes .

"don’t  you  got  anythin’  better  t’do  than  come  in  here,      ray?"           daggers  flash  from  the  center  of  her  eyes.         "ain’t  there  some  whiskey  bottle  you  oughta  be  suckin’  on  right  about  now?"

[alphateamsfinest]

' i saved your life, so i kinda feel responsible for you, is all. ' maximus :'^)

Fallout Starters

"You think you saved my life?" Her voice is incredulous and her eyebrows raise- Jill has to turn away for a second. Maybe her poker face isn't as good after all that fighting. It's not like she was expecting them to get her mask off. And fine, she guessed that he had helped, but she didn't need the help.

There's the slightest bit of color to the tops of her cheeks, but the furrow of her brow and the downturn of her lips show the anger just below the surface. "Why do you think I need help anyway!" A step towards him as the frown gets deeper. "Is it because I'm a woman."

[desertduality]

Grian teasing the next life series by putting the colors around during Scar’s stream made me think like. Imagine if like, in-universe, that’s how the players know another game is coming up. They start hallucinating things in groups of green yellow and red. Birds. Flowers. A reflection in a window. There and then gone when they blink. And they know.

[inhexe]

reading your post about the different dialects and thinking about that one audio clip that’s like “do you want fries with that?” “where i’m from, we call fries ‘potato jeremy’!” “WHERE TF ARE YOU FROM” but with letheia

why are you disrespecting winkie culture like this when you know they're called potato pastoriuses

[threadpull]

[ sinking ] + reverse, for jon and ed :^) tee hee

@forebodes / kissing meme / always accepting

They've been drinking. Jonathan's always drinking, but Edward is too now. And it's been some time since Jonathan has had such an efficient setup, has had Edward visiting him (he's always showing up wherever Edward is, though, like a spectre in the night). It's only natural that Jonathan gives him the tour of the operation, isn't it?

This has been culminating for months. Touches here and there; a hand on the back, the shoulder, the nape of Edward's neck. Standing a bit too close, leaning in. Jonathan's eyes seem to never leave him. The older man has always had a penchant for throwing out some pet name, but it has started to feel different when he says them: my dear, my darling, my boy.

Tonight is on another level. Every one of those changes that Edward has noticed over time has dialed up. Jonathan's hand seems to chronically find its way to him, to guide him along on their journey. Leading him by the wrist, an arm around the shoulder as they move together, or a hand pushing on the small of the back to direct him forward.

Jonathan isn't too sure how many drinks he has had at this point.

Enough to not care.

The mood is playful. When they enter the room for the patient sessions, Jonathan beckons Edward to the chair with restraints. "Feel free to sit if you need to rest. I can even strap you down nice and tight," he teases. "We can play doctor, if you like."

For some reason, Edward sits down. Jonathan didn't expect him to, so he has a good laugh. With the younger man under him, Jonathan places both hands on each arm of the chair. Traps him underneath. Does that thing he has been doing as of late, where he leans down far too close. Edward can smell the alcohol on his breath and his cologne, resembling the scent of spice and incense. "Well, sweet boy, tell me what ails you. Have you any new fears to speak of?" Jonathan's grinning.

Edward does something that drives him nuts. It's small, but it has large impact. Those icy blue eyes of Jonathan's lower their gaze to Edward's mouth, watching him, focusing on how Edward bites his lower lip. Jonathan breathes in sharply before muttering, "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph."

Unfortunately, he's begun to think too hard about it now.

What the fuck is he doing, looking at a man like that?

Jonathan snaps up straight. He turns on his heel, back facing Edward, hands now held behind him. He picks up where he left off on explaining the process of how he conducts experiments. It sounds more clinical. He strolls over to the couch in the room, pats it, and elaborates on its purpose - a place to decompress, ground oneself, find comfort. Jonathan sits down on it.

They get into talking, and Jonathan settles. Relaxes again. Edward moves from the chair onto the couch. This time he's the one that's close. Edward props up his head on his hands, leaning in. Their legs are touching. Edward grabs Jonathan's knee for a short moment, but it's enough to drag Jonathan's entire focus away from their conversation.

"Edward," Jonathan interrupts. There's a beat of silence. Then Jonathan adjusts in his seat a bit, pats his thigh a few times. "Come here."

It's a test to see how that request is interpreted, if it's fulfilled. Part of Jonathan would never expect anything of it. He suspects some sort of rejection, at most, which is why he could never ask something like this before. But when Edward actually begins to move, begins to follow the order, it lights a fire in him. He's terribly excited. So much so that he doesn't wait for Edward; Jonathan grabs him by the hips and practically drags him on top of his lap.

There is barely a second before Jonathan's hand finds the back of Edward's head, and he pulls the younger man down into a hungry kiss. His free arm wraps around Edward and holds him tight at the waist, pressing the two of them together.

There's a moment where that thought comes back to him: what the fuck are you doing? But it's lost to him almost immediately.

[klunskie]

Hello isat fandom. Look me in the eye and trust me when I say I do not have favouritism whatsoever.you have to trust me

.

on a completely unrelated note LETS GO LESBIANS🔥🔥🔥YEAYUHHH 🔥🔥🔥

[dankovskys-beetle-collection]

Pathologic Classic HD / Pathologic 2 / Pathologic 3

[lwyrsdghtr]

@forebodes chuck.

jade stands in the kitchen, illuminated by the dull glow of a lantern while she brews coffee. it’s a ritual, one she holds more dear than she’d care to admit. one that has taken place much more often ever since chuck could no longer stand to go outside. they have coffee, they talk. about whatever jade decides she’d like to talk about. coffee flows from the kettle and into two indigo mugs and she appears in the dining room a minute later, their warmth spreading in her palms.

chuck is at the table, putting together strips of shredded paper like pieces of a puzzle. she sets a cup of coffee down next to him and then takes up the seat beside him. “ you find whatever this old folks home is supposed to be hiding yet? ” she asks, peering over his shoulder and taking a sip from her mug. from the looks of it, the progress was going at a snail's pace. it was going to be a long night.

[nightsprung]

bright falls is a far cry from arlington and an even further one from new york city. casey's never particularly enjoyed the rural parts of the country. too many trees, too much fresh air, too many ways for a suspect to slip off and disappear. and then there's the local flavor; in this case, a murder cult that the townsfolk seem to think is urban legend more than anything real. maybe they're genuine, or maybe they're willfully dense. whatever the case, he's glad that saga's by his side on this one. of all the people he's worked with in his career, she still finds ways to surprise him, keep him on his toes, see details that slip past everyone else, himself included.

it's why he doesn't mind breaking the silence between them as they trek down one of the many winding nature trails around cauldron lake, corner of his mouth daring to twitch upward.

' y'know anderson — I could make a joke about jonestown. ' his expression still looks sour, but he's trying. saga will pick up on that. ' the punchline is too long. '

@forebodes sent in 😝 for a silly starter for saga anderson, featuring alex casey.