#DO I GET TO MAKE A BLACKBERRY TAG NOW

[jetsimpersonator]

Drew an entire page of gourmands and decided to finish one of them digitally

Also bonus blackberry (what I'm calling my nightcat x gourmand)

[bratzforchris]

swimming ⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

"you're no fun." you grumbled, already tugging the silky lace of your flats.

"i'm here for your protection. not your entertainment." chris hummed, eyes scanning the perimeter of the small clearing that was surrounded by lush woods and various greenery.

"but you couldn't you try to do both?" you asked, your voice taking on a slight whine, despite your best efforts to not be one of "those" princesses.

the weather in celestoria had been unbearably hot lately, making everyone in the palace rather restless. that, combined with the upcoming stress of the annual summer ball, was making you feel like the grand walls of the castle were closing in on you, leaving you desperate to get outside and find not only shade, but also go for a swim. after quite a bit of begging and pleading, you had finally convinced your bodyguard, chris, to accompany you to the refreshing swimming hole that you had practically made your home during the summers when you were a younger girl.

not much had changed since then. the small body of water and its surrounding had remained practically untouched, the quietness of the forest enveloping the two of you. you lifted the skirt of your flowy, linen dress, wading into the pond. as the water lapped around your ankles, you craned your neck to look at chris, who was still standing in the grass, arms crossed over his chest and brows furrowed.

"come in!" you practically begged.

"nope," he hummed, popping the p. "'s all you, princess."

you internally groaned at the lack of smile on chris' face, but didn't fight his usual, stoic demeanor. you understood that he had a job to do, but at the same time, you also wished that your bodyguard was a bit more of a companion, and less of a warden. you threw your head back, craning your face towards the sun and dropping your skirt, letting the material swish in the water. now that you were more cooled off, the stress from earlier practically rolled off your shoulders. no longer were you worried about the upcoming ball or the fact that you would be meeting potential husbands, nor were you worried about the growing, yet forbidden feelings you had been developing as of late.

right now, you simply enjoyed the water, ever so slowly heading deeper into the crystal clear water until it reached your knees. you were aware of chris' watchful presence, making you feel uncannily at ease, despite the fact that you were "alone" in the woods. you were so caught up in your thoughts, the warmth of the sun on your face, and watching a small squirrel make its way through the wild blackberry brambles, that you didn't even notice the approaching footsteps behind until chris tugged on your braid slightly.

"you better hope i don't get in trouble for this, princess." he murmured, a smirk painting his lips.

you turned around to observe your bodyguard, noticing that his black combat boots had been left on the shore and that his khaki pants were rolled to his knees. you giggled softly at the sight, fighting against the warm feeling that was making its way into your stomach. "maybe you're more playful than i thought, huh?" you teased.

"i think that's for me to know, and you to find out." despite the iciness of his words, there was a gleam in your bodyguard's blue eyes, and you'd be damned if you forgot it any time soon.

© bratzforchris, 2024

author's note: AHHHHH first lil blurb in the bodyguard!chris universe 🥹 i hope you guys enjoy this au as much as i do, because it's been so much fun for me to brainstorm so far. feel free to come headcanon and blurb with me about this universe any time! my inbox is always open<3

tags: @gxldenlush @luzsturniolo @hearts4chriss @sturnioloxlver @1800-love-me @littlebookworm803

[steddieas-shegoes]

powdered sugar nose

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'cooking together' rated: M wc: 711 cw: food as a way to flirt, allusions to sex, fade to black sex tags: established relationship, fluff, subtle praise kink

🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧

The pie wasn't turning out right, and Steve was trying not to panic.

Wayne only asked for one thing for his birthday and it was this pie that Steve had assured him he could make.

"Glaring at it probably doesn't fix it, sweetheart," Eddie said from across the kitchen.

"Well, it's the only thing I haven't tried," Steve put his hands on his hips and stared down at the burnt crust.

"You know, Wayne would understand if you can't do it. I'm sure he'd be fine with a cake."

"I'm not fine with a cake! I promised pie and he's getting a pie!"

Eddie threw his hands up in surrender.

"Okay, okay! Can I at least try to help?" Eddie started rolling up his sleeves.

"Fine. But if this one doesn't turn out right, you're banned from the kitchen."

"Deal."

They worked for the next 30 minutes or so, layering the crust along the bottom of the pie dish, making sure the blackberry filling was the perfect consistency, that the crust being layered on top was done in the exact design from the picture Wayne gave Steve.

Eddie, admittedly, was good at this, his years of delicate work on mini figures making him more than patient and pay close attention to detail.

He read out the recipe for Steve, taking it one step at a time so it felt less overwhelming.

He gave Steve kisses on his neck or shoulder every time they finished a part of the recipe, not letting him get distracted, but letting him know he did good.

Steve smiled to himself, actually enjoying the process of it all now. He felt like he was zoned in on making this pie perfectly.

Once it was in the oven, he set his timer and took in a deep breath.

Eddie lifted him up onto the counter, peppering his neck with kisses, leaving him gasping and giggling.

Eddie's kisses turned into bites, then sucking on his skin, finding every sensitive spot between his jaw and collarbone.

Steve moaned long and loud, throwing his head back as Eddie marked him up.

"When this comes out perfect, I'm gonna fuck you right here," Eddie groaned, holding his hips still when Steve tried to push them closer.

"What if it doesn't?"

"It will. We made it together."

Steve melted, leaning in for a much slower kiss, not quite as hungry.

They were both worked up, more than Eddie probably intended, but they didn't go any further, neither of them willing to risk ruining the pie.

When the timer went off, Steve was resting his forehead against Eddie's shoulder while Eddie rubbed his hands up and down his back.

"If this isn't right, I might cry," Steve sighed, pulling away so he could get off the counter.

"I might cry with you."

Steve opened the oven door, took the pie out, and carefully placed it on the stove.

"It looks...right."

Steve almost couldn't believe it.

He poked the top to make sure it stayed sturdy unlike the first one that collapsed the second he touched it.

It did.

"Holy shit. We did it."

Eddie's arms wrapped around him from behind, his lips brushing against his cheek.

"We did. Told you. Just needs the powdered sugar sprinkled on top. Would you like to do the honors?" Eddie let him go as he spoke to reach for the sifter.

Steve lightly dusted the powdered sugar on top, unable to stop smiling at what they managed to accomplish.

Eddie reached a hand over his shoulder and stuck a finger in the powdered sugar in the sifter.

"Hey!" Steve yelled, turning to face him with his brows furrowed.

Eddie poked his nose, leaving behind a circle of powdered sugar.

"Looks sweet enough to eat," Eddie smirked.

"No pie until tomorrow," Steve pointed a finger at him.

"I wasn't talking about the pie."

"Oh," Steve blushed, turning back to the pie to set the sifter down on the counter. "Well, it did turn out perfect..."

"It did..."

"So..."

Eddie lifted him up and set him on the farthest counter from the pie.

"Think I need a taste to make sure you're sweet enough," Eddie reached down to start unbuttoning his pants.

"And if I'm not?"

"I try again tomorrow."

[eyesofshinigami]

Chaos Goblin

Rating: T

CW: None

Tags: Established relationship, language, humor, very slight mention of vomit

Prompt: For anon "Love is watching them do the stupidest things and falling harder for them every time"

WC: 808

Written for Day 27 of @steddielovemonth

“I can’t believe you’re letting them do this.”

It wasn’t Steve’s idea to let Eddie and the kids have a pie-eating contest in his backyard, but it sure was something he was letting happen. A year of dating Eddie had taught him that his boyfriend was an unstoppable force of personality, and sometimes that meant letting him do really, really dumb shit sometimes. He couldn’t even remember what argument had sparked this idea, but he knew better than to try and fight it. Sometimes you just have to learn to let things happen. 

Nancy, sitting on the other side of Robin, just shrugged. “I guess at least they’re outside? I’m still not sure how Eddie convinced you to bake that many pies for him.”

Steve cleared his throat. “I mean, I could tell you, but-”

“Oh god, seriously? You two are the worst!” Robin moaned, shoving Steve in the shoulder. 

He just shrugged. He was going to tell her that Eddie had offered to do dishes for the next month, but hinting at the epic sex marathon that also happened that night was enough to make him smile. “Nancy started it.”

“You don’t have to finish it,” Robin muttered under her breath, earning herself a tug on her hair from Nancy. “Anyway, pie-seducing aside, I can’t wait to watch when this goes sideways.”

“We have a hose, it’ll be fine.” And frankly, this didn’t even warrant a score on the grand scale of stupid shit Eddie and the kids had talked Steve into. He couldn’t help it that his boyfriend and their pack of feral children were very convincing, and also a little bit stupid. 

Like the time Dustin nearly blew the top off Eddie’s van when he accidentally set off the prototype for New Years Eve the two of them had concocted. Or when Eddie had given himself food poisoning by making some kind of science experiment sandwich with expired deli meat when he was high one night. Or when he nearly broke his arm trying to shoot a basketball and skateboard at the same time to settle an argument for Lucas and Max. Or-

Well. Anyway, Steve had learned pretty early on in their relationship to expect the unexpected, and to always have a first aid kit handy. 

“All right, you squirts, now it’s time to show you that I am the Master at Pie-Eating!” Eddie called out, sending a dirty wink in Steve’s direction. 

Max called back, “That metaphor doesn’t even make sense!”

Dustin and Mike both squinted at him from their spots at the folding tables they’d borrowed from the Byers’. Will, smart kid that he was, was sitting on the sidelines with the stopwatch, having declared himself the judge. Sensible, really. “You’re going down, Munson. You too, Wheeler,” Dustin said, rolling his shoulders back like he’s about to try for a Grand Slam in the seventh-inning stretch. 

“Fuck you, Dustin. You don’t even have any teeth, how are you going to chew?” Mike goaded, earning himself an offended squawk from Dustin. 

Will rolled his eyes at all three of them. “Are you guys ready? On my count, 1…2…3!” 

And they were off. It was truly a sight to behold; one grown man and two nearly grown teenagers scarfing down Steve’s homemade blackberry pies like they would never eat again. Lucas, Max, and El were cheering them on from the sidelines, also smart enough to not get involved in these kinds of shenanigans. 

Eddie finished first, holding the pie pan up and licking it clean before he dropped it on the table. He had blackberry smeared from his forehead to his jawline, matted in his hair, and staining the shirt he’d clearly stolen from Steve. Will called out the time, less than thirty seconds, and the other two started grousing about losing. “Ha! I told you! Eat shit, you little boogers!” 

His boyfriend was an absolute mess, looked completely ridiculous, and Steve wasn’t sure he'd ever loved him more. Eddie was a chaos goblin on a good day, but Steve wouldn’t have him any other way. Especially not when he bounded over to Steve like an overeager puppy, eyes shining and dripping with what remained of Steve’s immaculate pie. “Had fun?” he teased, swiping a bit of blackberry off Eddie’s chin and popping it in his own mouth.

“Absolutely. It’ll be worth the stomachache I can already feel coming on,” Eddie replied with a grin. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got ginger ale and a warm blanket waiting for you.” Steve pulled Eddie in for a kiss, enjoying the taste of blackberries. 

He lost himself in it, ignoring the pitiful sounds of Dustin and Mike groaning about being too-full, or the screech Robin let out when Mike almost puked on her shoes. 

Eddie was a whirlwind of chaos, and Steve wouldn’t have him any other way.

[jungle-angel]

Master Of The Earth (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: Out of all the Daggers, Bob has the biggest green thumb of all

Tagging: @floydsmuse @callmemana @attapullman @bradshawsbaby @withahappyrefrain

It was one of those spring days where you knew summer would be right around the corner, bright and sunny, the birds singing and the fresh early morning air making its way into the house. You had been sitting out on the front steps, enjoying your morning coffee and relieved that your lesson plans for your class's sixth grade year were finally done and that all you would have to worry about were the Greek Games and the spring fair at the school you taught at.

You heard the faint playing of music coming from somewhere around the corner, just having finished a phone call with Bob's grandfather and wondering if your mind was playing tricks on you.

You wandered around the back to the backyard where the garden was already beginning to bloom, noticing that the greenhouse door was cracked open just a little to let in the fresh air. A cheeky grin played with your lips when you heard the bluetooth speaker playing "Shambala" by Three Dog Night and your eyes laying upon Bob who was dancing shirtless as he shoveled some of the bagged soil into the clay pots on the long wooden table.

"BOB!!"

"Jeebus FUCK!!!" he blurted out, jumping a little.

"Have you been in here all morning?" you asked him.

"Since five in the AM," he chuckled, drawing you in for a tight hug.

Oooh he was warm, so warm and a little sticky from the greenhouse humidity, smelling of fresh dirt and wet leaves. You kissed the curve of his neck and the tops of his pecs before he gladly and eagerly returned the kisses you had been giving.

"Oh, I've gotta show you these," he said excitedly.

He gently guided you to the bench where a whole pile of seed packets were waiting to be opened. "Oh my God," you chuckled. "Did you raid the entire Home Depot garden section?"

Bob had opened his mouth to say something. "I......ya know......it's funny you should ask that....."

"Robert Joseph......"

"(Y/n) I swear half of it was my dad's idea, I'm not lying."

You laughed and rolled your eyes. Bob, his dad Joe Floyd and Joe's father, Lowell, were the only three people on the face of the earth who would have willingly raided a Home Depot garden section and not given a single fuck hereafter. "Alright Professor Floyd," you said. "Continue with the lecture."

"Ah ok," Bob said. "Now we have here an assortment of plants that will be first put into clay pots and then gradually into bigger ones until they are ready to root in the ground. Now if you would like to flip through the pile of seed packets, you may feel free to do so."

You laughed and gladly flipped through the pile of packets, amazed at what Bob had been able to get. Calendula, oregano, cayenne pepper, chamomile, poppies, lavender, rosemary, mint, marigolds, valerian and a whole host of other herbs and flora that you swore weren't even native to where you lived.

"Ooh, yarrow," you said.

"That was always Meemaw's favorite," Bob explained. "I've also got tulsi, catnip and mugwort too."

"What else did you plant?" you asked him.

"Maybe a peach tree," Bob said, blushing a little. "For my sweet, juicy little peach of course."

You giggled, the heat filling you from head to toe.

"I've also got a few bushes too," Bob continued. "Blackberry, elderberry, raspberry.......maybe a camellia bush. Black cohosh will help with mom's hot flashes and keep the pests away. Nasturtium will grow hardy but they need wood dowels to climb up. I'd like to see about some mullein and nettle but I'm not sure where we'd put it. Hawk said he would come by later and give me some white sage seeds that he extracted from his daughter's garden too."

You could have listen to him babble on for hours about the plants and the experiments he was trying. You made a mental note to introduce him to Mr. Jenkins, the high school science teacher who was teaching his ninth graders some of the principals and techniques involved in holistic farming, as the two of them would have a day long conversation.

You and Bob set to planting the seeds, scooping the dirt and putting it into the pots along with the seeds and properly burying them just enough so they could push through to the surface when the time came. You watered and fertilized as you saw fit, taking pictures of new sprouts or buds and adding them into Bob's journal full of his drawings, writings and observations. You both had lost track of the time until you realized it was already noon and time for lunch. But thankfully, the day wasn't over yet and you could do as much more planting as the day would allow.

[rudemaidenswrite]

Don't Belong Here

Part 5

part 4

By: @pusantheamazonian

Tag list: @rosecat5 @athenaricham-loves-orcs  @pandainfinitely @rivalriotrenegade @rouge-fire175 @happymoonangel @the-witchs-posts

You don't know why but it's time. There's just something gnawing in your brain that Ronnie needs to meet them. Now that you two are officially dating. Because if they don't approve of him you're going to cut your own heart out. And you'll never be happy again.

Anxiety ridden. Biting the bullet, you give them a call. And it's picked up on the first ring.

"Y/N! I hope you're not calling to cancel tomorrow." Immediately the motherly scolding begins, somehow she knows something is going on.

"Actually quite the opposite."

"What's wrong?" Worry fills her voice.

"I was hoping I could bring someone with me. There's someone I'd like you to meet." Biting your lip, you know she's going to say yes. But you don't want to risk the chance that the answer will be no.

"Of course dear. You can bring whoever you need to." You can hear the relief in her voice.

"Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow."

One phone call down, now the other. But there's no telling what he's up to today so quick text will do.

Ronnie, would you like to have lunch with me tomorrow? They're some people I want you to meet.

God. Why is this so hard to ask? You've rewritten the question three times. Nervously you push send. It's not like you're inviting him to have lunch with your parents and meet them for the first time. No it's just Tog and Dura. The ones who have looked after you and babied you since you moved here.

Damn it. They are your parents. As much as you hate saying it out loud to anyone. They are. Besides Charlie and Olivia already call them that.

*Ding*

Sure.

Great! Meet at my place at 11am.

Breathing a sigh of relief. Now here's to hoping everything goes well.

~

These people must be important to you. You have refused to say anything else about this lunch or even acknowledge that it's happening. He's got to step it up today, he definitely needs to look like a regular person.

The importance of this lunch is killing you. You already sorta know how Tog feels about this but Dura will likely kill Ronnie if she disapproves.

"Where is that dress?" Grumbling while sorting through the closet. You know that dress Dura bought you is in here and for extra bonus points you have got to wear it. Ronnie will be here any minute and you're still in your underwear. Not that he wouldn't mind but now is not the time.

"Ah ha!" Finding the dress, somehow you tucked it into a garment bag and shoved it all the way in the back of the closet.

Slipping the dress on you barely have enough time to finish getting dressed when there is a knock on the door.

Opening the door you can't believe it's him. He's in crisp new jeans and a button up shirt. There's no way he can clean up this good.

"H-hi." Stumbling over your words you have to force yourself to focus.

Damn she's gorgeous. Hair and makeup done. Smelling like blackberries again. The soft blue dress has matching beading around the neckline and belt. He's never seen you in a dress before. He'll never say it out loud but you usually dress like you're homeless or just rolled out of bed. You oddly feel like home.

"You didn't say what to wear. Hope I chose right." Shrugging you see his ears twitching awkwardly.

"Yes." Actually you couldn't care less about what he wore. They'll find out he's part of the Fogteeth sooner or later.

"We are meeting some important people of mine for lunch. Just let me get my purse." Staying positive is the only way to make it through the day.

Important people? Worried who's so important that you won't say who it is? He picked up on the fake smile just now. You now have him worried about this meeting.

~

He's been driving for about twenty minutes towards the outskirts of the city with you giving directions. The neighborhood seems decent enough. A bunch of smaller homes and it seems strangely quiet for the most part.

"This one here. With the iron fence." Quickly pointing at the house a few yards down.

He pulls into a blacktop driveway beside a white brick bungalow. Getting out of the truck he's hit with a variety of strong smells. Vegetables and flowers but the most noticeable one is Orc.

Making your way around the truck, you grab his hand firmly and lead the way.

"Are you feeling okay? You keep biting your lips." Asking he knows the answer. You're not and it's worrisome. Nervousness and fear keep wafting off of you, getting stronger with every step.

"Just a little nervous." Shrugging you try not to give away how terrified you actually are.

"You're nervous?"

"Well, you're the first person I've brought home." Fidgeting you quickly push the doorbell.

“Brought home?” Confused, he couldn't have heard you right.

The door swings open before you can answer him. An old orc woman answers. Excitement covers her face.

"Y/N! My darling daughter, it's so good to see you." She's loud and excited. He's never smelt such happiness from an orc about a human.

"You saw me a few days ago." Smiling, you give her a quick hug.

"So? If I had it my way you wouldn't be able to leave the house." Teasing she pinches your cheeks.

"Mam!" Embarrassed, you shoo her hand away.

"Oh hush. I don't want any sass from you. Your sister has enough of it. Now who is this?"

"Mam this is Ronnie. He's the one I talked to you about. Ronnie, this is my mother Dura." You calmly gesture between the two.

It doesn't go unnoticed that you introduced her as your mother and the happy gasp that came from her. She knows you're not very public with telling people who they are.

"Come in! Come in! Lunch is almost ready. Your father is setting the table now." Grinning Dura nods inside.

Holding Ronnie's hand tightly you head to the dining room. Pausing slightly you see him finish setting the table.

"Pap this is Ronnie. Ronnie, this is my father Tog."

He instantly recognizes the old orc you call father. He was working that day, he caused a scene.

He's stunned. The ones you call mother and father are orcs. In a moment time feels frozen but moving at hyper speed. The realization hits him hard. You have brought him to meet your parents. That's a serious commitment step especially in Orc culture. You're basically presenting him to the chieftain; the leader; your father that he is your chosen mate.

"Y/N, come help." Dura asks from the kitchen.

"Coming!" Giving Ronnie a smile you quickly pat his arm before disappearing into the next room.

"When we are together as a family for meals. We speak in our mother tongue. It helps keep the language alive." Tog explains in Bodzvokhan, with a stern face gesturing for Ronnie to take a seat.

"It’s so that we don't forget how to speak it." You lean over to whisper as you put some food on the table.

"Charlie speaks it too?" Surprised that thought never occurred to him.

"Yeah and so does Olivia but she's still learning." Trying not to smile at Ronnie's confused face you sit down beside him.

"How did you two meet?" Dura questions, passing bowls of food around. Not giving Ronnie a chance to process anything.

"Ah um at a Fogteeth block party." You don't necessarily know how to explain it.

"Y/N! Since when do you party?" Shocked, Dura's disbelief is evident.

"Because your daughter signed me up for a fight club. So they all know me now." Huffy you make it known what her sassy daughter has been up to.

"Y/N! What have I said about fighting?" Frowning, Dura tsk's you.

"To knock them out in one punch." You pretend to punch someone.

"Dura's father was a boxer. That's how we met. I worked as an errand boy when I was a child at the gym where her father trained." Tog interjects.

Now it clicks in his mind about why you can fight. My God you're from a family of Orc boxers.

"Could be worse, you forget that Charlie and Olivia met at a strip club." Sighing the way you and Ronnie met wasn't entirely a bad way, just very unconventional.

"Why do I believe that?" Ronnie laughs.

“They were both waitresses. Cause Charlie can't dance and Olivia is accident prone.”

The rest of the lunch visit goes well. No red flags popped up. And watching Ronnie interact with them is nice. It's not often you or Charlie bring someone here. Only after two years of dating was Olivia introduced and Ryan was only after graduation.

Gathering the leftovers for Charlie and Olivia. You see Pap and Ronnie walk outside.

"Y/N."

"Yes Mam?" Turning you see how worried she is.

"Are you sure? This will affect your reputation." Dura nods at him.

"I know Mam."

"As long as you're sure. I worry about you the most." Sighing she knows that once you've decided something, that's all that matters.

"I know."

Cupping your face with both hands, she gives you a soft forehead kiss.

Waiting on the porch Tog finds now is the time to personally talk to Ronnie

Outside he can feel and smell the anger and suspicion from Tog. The air seems to be electrified.

"I say this once. Harm Y/N in any way and you will not get off so easily as before. I am from the old country. I know how to get things done."

Astonished he never thought he would be threatened like this. But it doesn't come as a complete surprise since he has been a jerk before because of stupidity.

"I don't plan on that happening again."

“Good. She's the most stubborn and sensitive of two. As you are well aware by now.”

~

Back at your apartment you quickly set the food on the counter and properly face Ronnie. You could tell he was thinking about stuff from how silent in the truck he was.

"Sorry I sprung this on you like this. I didn't know exactly how to say ‘come meet my parents who happen to be Orcs’.” Apologizing, you don't want him to be mad about today.

"Daughter?" Questioning he tugs on the shirt of your dress.

"Yeah. Basically adopted us. Me first, then when I said I had a sister they were ecstatic."

"They're never letting you go." He gently grabs your hand intertwining the fingers.

"Good cause I'm not letting them go." Smiling, you know it's the truth. If anything were to happen to them. You'd probably go crazy. "The first few years I lived here were harsh. I survived on my savings and their generosity. At one point I was living with them. After scrimping and saving. I had enough money to buy a decent house or a really good apartment. But then Pap lost his job at the factory. So in secret I bought that house for them. With the money I had left over, my sister moved in with me into an apartment."

Besides the fact that you were only eighteen when you moved here with everything you owned stuffed into your car. Thinking you were a badass with no definite plan. You skipped graduation as payback for your parents kicking you out on your eighteenth birthday and living with a friend for the last four months. That they took pity on your stupid self. Working two jobs and going to school full time. You had lost all control of time and self preservation. They made it their mission to make sure someone was taking care of you since you dropped the ball on it. Before deciding that it would be best if you were to move in, to pool resources. And them giving you courage to fully do what you want with support.

"What do their children think of this?"

"Their son Mek died as a child and never had any more." Shaking your head sadly. "Charlie and I joke that Mek is our guardian angel."

Smelling the sadness he changes the topic.

"So how is it with work then?" That's always been a question burning in his head. He's never heard of an orc to have an actual decent job.

"Manny is my full time assistant. Pap works as my part time assistant."

"How do you have orcs as assistants?" There's no way you have that many Orcs actually working with you.

"The loophole is that I'm allowed to have two assistants of my choosing. They have to pass a background check and be personally trained by me." Giggling you boop his nose at your secret.

"Damn. That's a good loophole."

"Manny already knows us, he used to work at the same factory. So why not? I choose my father and a family friend that acts like my big brother." You start to fidget with his buttons.

"You've never said your parents are orcs. Why?" Taking a risk, the question makes you ooze out sadness and loneliness.

"Granted they've probably already had their share of hate. It throws everyone off at first but they taught me how real parents should act. I love them so much I just want to freeze time and wrap them up in bubble wrap." Sighing there's just an unexplainable love for Dura and Tog. "I don't want anything to happen to them. And just shouting to the world that my parents are Orcs will cause unnecessary hate."

Pausing he lets everything sink in. Everything he knows and what he found out today. “Sprinkles, you are the most complicated person I have ever met. With an immensely kind heart."

"Thanks." A defeated chuckle escapes. "Besides, you have no idea how restricted and complicated the adoption process is. But to adopt from another race is nearly impossible. The only successful cases were those involving half breeds but then they were only allowed to be adopted by whatever races they were a part of."

"How do you know this?"

"When I was nineteen I wanted them to adopt me. So I went and got the paperwork and researched everything. But I wasn't able to do anything about it, besides this country doesn't recognize adult adoption as being legal."

"That's bullshit!" Scoffing that's ridiculous.

"I know!"

[aziraphales-library]

hi, can you recommend some pics with first kisses? 🫶🏻

Hey. You can check out our #kissing and #first kiss tags for fics you'll enjoy. Here are some more first kiss fics...

Floatin’ like a feather by Lilyofthevalley26 (T)

Crowley sat back in his seat, listening to Aziraphale rant on and on and thought this was one of his better ideas this century. There was a fondness in his gaze that he couldn’t quite hide, and was once again glad for his sunglasses. He leaned forward to pick up the teacup in front of him, absentmindedly turning it into scotch and settled in for another night of indulging his favorite person. It was his favorite pastime after all, making Aziraphale happy.

run across the river (just to hold you tonight) by hope_in_the_dark (T)

In which their first kiss happens differently (and they have five percent better communication.) Based on that one ask where Neil said he meant to give us a Wild West flashback but couldn’t because of budget reasons.

Not A Bang, But A Kiss by elviscossiet (M)

In which Crowley kisses Aziraphale goodbye like a good husband should. Despite not being good. Or a husband. Or even in a relationship. --- It was, in fact, the perfect kiss for beings who had kissed countless times before and knew there would be countless more kisses to come. Which was why Aziraphale was so shocked. For as much as he'd wanted them to, they had never kissed before.

Budding Romance by Raven_with_a_Pocketwatch (G)

In which Crowley starts growing flowers in his garden and giving them to Aziraphale.

I’m Berry Fond of You by IneffableDoll (T)

Aziraphale and Crowley go blackberry picking and are fucking adorable about it. Honestly, just send me your dentist bill now, I take full responsibility.

Love sought is good, but given unsought is better by elf_on_the_shelf (T)

Armageddon came and went and Crowley is trying his hardest to get whatever it was that he had hoped and dreamed for millennia to have with Aziraphale going. Unfortunately for him, the angel is not there yet. Unfortunately for both of them, Crowley, despite him being a darn optimist, really can't wait any longer. This is a fic that explores all of their inner turmoil and means to address as much as it can of their past trauma. It's a fic about healing old wounds and the both of them getting to be better supernatural entities all on their own before they try their hand at any type of relationship. Or: Crowley gets therapy by means of tough love. Aziraphale has a long - and I do mean long - talk with himself.

- Mod D

[missmagooglie]

Fuck It Friday

Throwing out another bit of the omegaverse thing I've been working on. Previous snippets here and here.

Buck’s mouth against his neck feels good, too. He tips his head to the side, making room for Buck to press sloppy, open-mouthed kisses all along his throat and beneath his jaw. It's close to where his mating mark will go, but Eddie’s pretty sure they aren't at that part yet. And Buck would warn him, probably, before trading gentle lips for sharp teeth. It might not even be so bad, Eddie thinks. Maybe the way Buck keeps touching him will distract him from the pain of being bitten, like pinching his hand so he doesn’t feel the needle when he gets a shot. Then Buck's hand slides down the back of his pants, thick fingers sliding across the swell of his ass just as Buck grinds their hips together and Eddie can feel that his cock isn’t the only one getting stiff. There’s a sudden, nauseating lurch in his stomach as he remembers the other thing Buck is supposed to do to him tonight, and the thought of it makes Eddie flinch.  Violently. Buck swears and stumbles backwards as Eddie twists out of his grip, elbowing him hard in the ribs as he does.  Eddie's heart is racing as he looks up wide-eyed at the alpha now standing several feet away. He feels his face heat as the old fear that jolted through him subsides, leaving him to feel mortified.  “I'm sorry,” Buck gasps, clutching his side where Eddie has probably left a bruise. “Are you ok?” Eddie manages to nod and tries, unsuccessfully, not to tense up as Buck approaches him. “Do you–” Buck asks haltingly as he takes cautious, slow steps to close the gap between them, “–and listen, I want you to be honest, because it’s ok if you don’t, but. Do you actually know what we're supposed to be doing right now?” Eddie presses his lips together tightly and stares harshly at the ground. He's supposed to be submitting. He's supposed to let himself be claimed. Bobby had all but ordered the two of them to get this done, and Eddie can’t even let Buck touch him like he’s supposed to. “What I mean is," Buck continues when Eddie doesn't respond, "did your parents or anyone ever explain to you what’s, er, involved when two people get mated?” Oh, Eddie realizes, semi-hysterically, he thinks I'm a virgin. “Because I can talk you through it, if you need me to,” Buck tells him with wide, beseeching eyes as he so sweetly as he offers to explain the act of sex.  Eddie's jaw clenches tightly he tries to think through what he should do.

Tags under cut. Drop a note if you want to be added or removed from my tag list for 911 fic!

@onyxmoonstone @daffi-990 @lover-of-mine @pleasestopdeletingmyaccount @coatedpanda16 @littleblackraincloudofcourse @littlefruitybastard @idealuk @blackberry-l @imabtastic @indiearr @machtaholic @zahlibeth, @ladydorian05 @piratefalls @poetry-protest-pornography @911-on-abc @robinplume @mattsire

This is my first attempt at creating a tag list, so I apologize if I got the etiquette wrong. I more or less just tagged anyone who's shown interest in my snippets in previous posts or I thought might be interested?

[landlordevil]

tagged by @bladeofavernus THANK U MEWCHIE (<- my cute way of saying mutual) I loved doing this so much and I loved hearing about Rana ^_^

name: Einstürzende!

nickname: Eins!!!

gender: Well it's just kinda *hand waves* well I mean if you really think about it it's kinda like *shrugs*

(they use they/them and all gendered terms like girl/boy/etc!)

star sign: They were born in the Abyss and IDK if they have seasons there :(

height: 6'0" (183 cm)

orientation: bisexy

race: let's forgive me 4 my edgy backstory era. Half tiefling (cambion mom) and half demon :)

romancing: Astarion (and the crowd goes mild!!!)

fave fruit: blackberries

fave season: winter!

fave flower: snapdragons (signifying both deviousness and strength <3)

fave scent: Petrichor and the sickly sweet smell of decaying flowers...

coffee, tea, or hot chocolate: Hot chocolate! But they're a big fan of dark chocolate so it has to be really bitter.

average sleep hours: 8 hours. This girl needs their beauty sleep!!!!!

dogs or cats: They prefer big dogs because they're afraid of hurting smaller pets. Even if they think they're cute. :(

dream trip: Neverwinter! but they also really want to go back to the beaches of the Underdark because they thought it was very pretty there.

amount of blankets: they run really hot so just one thin sheet, maybe a light blanket if... a certain someone.... seems to be leeching all the heat >:/

random fact(s):

they're an uncle to Lily Aurora Ravengard and Kass and Chessa (Gandrel's two vampire spawn daughters). They love kids even if they never want to be a parent!!!

Blood tastes like absinthe (essentially sort of anise/liquorice flavored)

they do technically have certain cambion abilities they inherited from their mother. Their "bad ending" would be getting coerced by the player character into using those powers, which would give them additional power but make them very sad. They don't want to hurt other people for their own gain. :(

TY FOR TAGGING ME!! EDIT I lied I'm tagging @doomednarrative @thepaleelf @strawbebemilk and @eastgaysian if y'all want to do it!!! and if you (yes, YOU) haven't been tagged in something like this yet say I tagged you!! I really do love reading about everyone's tavs/durges sosososososo much. they all become honorary companions in my eyes. Why can't I recruit them all Larian get on this NOW!

[runningfrom2am]

the sea around us; chapter two

In which Rafe Cameron has to choose between his dad and a pogue who's changing his outlook on life more and more every day.

(rafe cameron x f!oc)

(eventual!jj maybank x f!oc)

warnings/tags: violence, drug/alcohol use, smoking, sexual content (if you squint), slowburn, older brother’s best friend, (these tags are obv not exhaustive but regardless it’s pretty PG13)

wc: 1.9k

my masterlist, series masterlist, requests

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

After we drove back to The Cut, John B dropped me off at home. I waved a quick goodbye to everyone as I walked up to my porch, ready to get changed for work. Today I wasn't at Heywards or The Wreck, I was working at a coffee shop over on Figure Eight called Making Waves. One of those niche local places, once again, popular with tourists. Initially with locals, but now the tourists have sort of taken it over. I throw on my work shirt over my tank top and jean shorts, grab my water bottle, shoving it in my bag, and head back out the door. No one was home today to chat with anyways.

I get out of my car and lock it behind me, stepping up over the curb and approaching the entrance of the small shop. "Hey! Snowy!" I hear a familiar voice behind me and turn my head to look. "I'll get an Italian soda, blackberry please." It's Kegs, of course. I rotate my body and walk back towards the door.

"Does it look like I'm ready to take orders yet?" I respond with a smile, noting the friends my brother was with. Rafe and Topper. Kooks, of course. My big brother somehow ended up weaseling his way in with the Kooks after we moved into Kildare, if I'm remembering correctly he out-golfed them when he was working at the course and they asked him to tag along. Not the greatest influence on him, but I'm just glad he has friends here.

I stop just out of the way of the door and watch them approach me. "Juliette?" His friend, Rafe, asks me, raising his eyebrow as he eyes my name tag.

"You didn't know my name? Ouch."

He shrugs. "I've never heard Kegs call you that."

"No one does." My brother adds. "Anyway, you hear about the storm?" He asks, Topper and Rafe beginning to talk quietly to each other. I notice over Keg's shoulder that they're still looking at me, but I try to brush it off as I answer his question.

"Uh, yeah I did but I'll be home before it does any serious work. I've got to help block up the windows tonight before I go- we've got a few more hours." I nod.

Kegs looks skeptical. "You're not taking off with those Pogues after work- you actually have to come home this time. Seriously. Mom needs your help with the twins tonight."

"Those Pogues". As if he doesn't live on the cut with us.

I sigh and drop my head back. "I didn't plan on it, you know. Regardless they'll be fine, they're almost twelve, Kegs." I look back up at him and adjust the bag on my shoulder. The twins were a force to be reckoned with, honestly. They're just a handful, it'll probably be harder to keep them inside.

"Really? Anna and Deck? Fine? Give me your keys." He said, getting frustrated now as he holds out his hand.

"What?" I ask angrily, my voice dropping as Rafe and Topper stop talking to listen to us, so I lower my voice. "I'm not giving you my keys I need to get home, do you want me to walk?" I whisper angrily.

I suppose I should clue you in on my family situation. First, Kegs is short for Keegan. Kegs' ability to outdrink the Kooks, which he picked up back in Canada, gives him his nickname. Almost two years older than me, thinks he's a Kook. His whole thing is sports, back in Canada it was hockey, baseball, rugby, lacrosse, golf, and honestly whatever else he could do to get out of the house. Here he's settled on golf. Believe it or not, he's pretty sensitive. I've seen him after many-a-breakup, and it's not at all pretty. My mom has employed me as his personal therapist, she'll just cry and not say anything to him to try and help. I wonder where we get our emotional insecurities from. She's never like that with me. Anyway, he's always got my back. Like 80% of the time.

Next, the twins. Annabelle and Declan. They're six years younger than me, and I practically raised them. They hardly have a relationship with Kegs, somehow. Anna, older than Deck by eight minutes, refuses to let that go that she's a middle child. This is crazy because one, she gives off seriously only child energy- I'm friends with enough of them to know and two, she's not a middle child. She has a big personality and no filter, unfortunately. Completely obsessed with Pope. I already see she's going to be a nightmare at 16. Deck, on the other hand, is her complete opposite. He minds his business, as much as an eleven-year-old can. He rocks a mullet like Kegs used to, sticking to our Canadian roots, and now he's flipped gears into surfing. He wants JJ to teach him, JJ is all about it- of course. It is hard for me to watch Deck grow up, he's only eleven, yes, but I miss when he was little; he slept in my bed every night for years.

"Rafe said he can pick you up. I don't want you taking off, mom will tear a strip off me if I don't get you home."

What is he even talking about right now? I look back at his friend behind him, who raises his hand at me in acknowledgment, smiling. "Why can't you pick me up?" I whisper, leaning closer to him. "Why does it have to be one of your Kook friends?"

"Snowy-" He sighs, raising his hand to push his hair back out of his face. "I'm busy, okay? I have to go to Erin's to help them storm prep, then I'm gonna crash there. I need to go like right now, I don't even have time for this." Erin, ugh. Not my favorite girlfriend he's ever had, that's for sure. They've been on and off for years, but rumor has it, she's a chronic cheater. I don't want to get into it with him, so I sigh and hand him my keys, turning to walk inside.

"I'll pick you up at eight!" Rafe shouts after me as I walk inside, mumbling to myself in anger.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

I'm just finishing putting plywood up behind the windows as I hear the bell chime, meaning someone has walked in. I wipe my hands on my blue apron and turn to face the customer coming in. "Just prepping for that storm tonight, we're closing in a couple minutes. What can I-" I stop talking and drop my customer service voice as I see who it is. "Hi, Rafe."

"Will you be ready to go soon, Juliette?" He shoves his hands in the pockets of his shorts as he smirks at me. I catch myself staring at him for a second. Normally I would correct anyone calling me that, but I just, don't. I look over to where the owner, Megan, is wrapping up everything at the registers. She nods at me.

"Hi, Rafe, how's Rose doing? And your father?" She smiles at him, looking up from her receipts.

"They're well, thank you, ma'am." I have never heard him be this polite to anyone- ever. Not that I have ever talked to him for more than a couple minutes at a time.

"Alright Snowy, I should be totally fine here. You did great putting those up. You get home safe." Megan says to me and I untie my apron.

"Thanks, Megan." I climb down the stepstool I was standing on, and look towards Rafe. "I'll be right out, give me two minutes," I tell him, jogging to the back to grab my bag and hang up my apron.

I walk back out and Rafe is leaning his shoulder against the door, scrolling on his phone. A customer comes to open the door, and he looks up and taps his knuckle on the window under the sign that now reads "closed", I suppose Megan asked him to flip it so we could close a couple of minutes early. The customer rolls their eyes and walks away. I approach him and take my hair out of the bun I had it in, looking back at Megan as she says goodbye.

"You two get home safe alright?" I nod and smile at her.

"You too." Rafe and I both say at the same time, I instantly turn to look at him and my cheeks burn as I see he's acting like he didn't notice. He holds the door for me and we walk out to his car, I'm assuming he borrowed it from his dad.

"My mom used to drive a Range Rover. Back in BC." I say quietly as we drive out towards the Cut.

"Oh yeah?" Rafe replies, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the gear shift, despite it not being a manual. He looks over at me. "Were you Canada Kooks? What happened?"

I look back out in front of me. "I guess, kind of, I don't really know what happened." I can see in my peripherals that he's looking at me now, waiting for me to continue.

"We didn't live on The Terrace, but it was decent- mostly property, not a big house. But it wasn't the south side either. I don't know. We had to sell the car before we moved. We all squished into our dad's truck, Deck had to sit on my lap the whole drive. Two weeks." I laugh a little at the memory. Rafe just smiles.

"The Terrace?" He asks quizzically.

"Moose Lake's Figure Eight. It was on a hill overlooking the rest of the city, like a second-story porch. Rich people lived up there." I translate. "I actually was meant to go to school up there, we were at the bottom of the hill, but my parents decided to pull me and put me in a public school closer to home anyways. My mom said it would make me more humble." I honestly think that's when they realized they couldn't afford private school for two kids.

He nods. "Let me guess, Kegs went to the private school?" Rafe asks and I nod my head toward him.

"Yep- how could you tell?" I joke. "In all honesty, private school there was absolutely nothing like Kook academy, don't get it twisted. He was always popular though. Everyone only knew me as his sister, I was hardly ever my own person." I explain- why am I telling him this? No way on earth Rafe could give two shits.

"I mean, you've definitely made a name for yourself here. Literally, apparently." He gestures to my name tag.

"Snow is my middle name." Why do I keep talking? He does look shocked at this though, as he does a double-take between me and the road. "Oh, it's actually real? I thought the pogues made it up because you were Canadian."

I giggle at this. "Nope, just a funny coincidence. Kegs has always called me that, Juliette is a busted name."

"I think it's cute. I mean, fine. It's not as bad as you think." He says quickly, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter, his knuckles turning white.

"Thanks."

[fllagellant]

After being tagged by both my friends @house-ofhope and @sixteenstrikes I decided that I Should fill out this little character question sheet …. cannot think of anyone to tag at the moment but if you see this and want to participate Please do ! I would like to see

Doing this for the Beastie himself …

Name: Giilvas Quickfoot

Nickname: Ohhh okay . Karlach calls him ‘ Strings ‘ or ‘ Strums ‘ or whatever matching nickname to ‘ Mama K ‘ she comes up with midfight . Halsin ends up calling him ‘ Brown Bear ‘ . Lae’zel ends up calling him ‘ Quick ‘ on occasion . Wyll gets to call him plenty of things but ‘ Rose ‘ , ‘ Knight ‘ , and ‘ Big Heart ‘ are the most common ones . His stage name is a joke name . Lonch Mune , pronounced Lunch Money , the joke answer to why he does the whole Bard Thing

Height: Large . Over 6” . 6’5 ? 6’6 ? How tall can I make him before it’ s too tall . 6’7 . I’ ll keep adding inches just say when

Gender & Orientation: 2spirit queer gay transmasc they/he reporting for duty

Nationality/Ethnicity: he doesn’ t claim a nationality , if asked he just says ‘ Baldurian ‘ and that’ s that . Even if he’ s never been to Baldur’ s Gate . His ethnicity traces back to mainly wood elves in the dales , a few half - elf distant family members that he thinks are in Waterdeep maybe ? He’ s also sure that he has Gur relatives .

Favourite Fruit: oranges . Oranges . Blackberries too . Also anything he can pick while they travel .

Favourite Season: That in between summer and fall . Whatever you can call that he likes that the most

Favourite Flower: he always SAYS it’ s roses to keep up with his ‘ golden rose ‘ image and everything . Truth be told , it’ s lilacs . And water lilies . And lilies of the valley .

Favourite Scent: Rain , wood smoke and anything that even in passing reminds him of Wyll . Certain smells just connect back to him regardless if Giilvas can name the smell or not

Coffee, Tea or Hot Chocolate: Going for coffee most days . Tea just doesn’ t taste good to him even if he can sit around smelling the tea for ages . He doesn’ t mind trying to sweeten his coffee , but if he’ s just looking for sweet then he’ ll go for hot chocolate

Average Hours of Sleep: Varies . Either he can be in his elf-sleep for half a day or he can’ t bring himself to rest for more than like 45 minutes . No healthy 8 hours either all or none

Dogs or Cats? Woof

Dream Trip? No one place really . He wants to go where the excitement is

Number of Blankets? One super thick, heavy one or like . 4 regular ones . Bundle him Now

Random Fact: the one main reason he kept the ability to wild shape to a Tibetan Mastiff was to enter cities and towns he thought he might have issue in bc a) who is gonna stop a big dog ? And b) people don’ t care if a dog hears their conversations . He still does it in camp sometimes bc a) why not b) easier to lay on Wyll and not smush him and c) sometimes he can get better rest while wildshaped

[middleearthpixie]

Living Proof ~ Chapter Eight

Summary: When he puts himself between the Uruk-hai and Merry and Pippin, Boromir knows it means sacrificing himself. But it also means redemption for his near betrayal of Frodo and the Fellowship, and so it is a price he is more than willing to pay.

Kaia has been on her own for as long as she can remember, having escaped a terrible life in a village not far from Mordor. When she hears the sounds of battle, she knows what it means and when she ventured forth and finds a gravely wounded man lying amongst the leaves and debris, she takes him in, not knowing he is actually the son of the steward of Gondor.

Angry at himself and faced with a long road to recovery, Boromir does not make things easy on Kaia and it is only through her own sheer will that she does not give into the urge to hit him over the head with something on a daily basis. That refusal to give up brings about changes neither one of them could have foreseen.  She just wanted to save him. She never thought he would save her in return…

Fandom: The Lord of the Rings (AU, Boromir lives)

Pairing: Boromir x ofc Kaia 

Warnings: Disposal of orc corpse - a little ooky, but not terribly graphic

Rating: T 

Word Count: 3.9k

Tag List: @sotwk @heilith @fizzyxcustard @evenstaredits @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @emmyspov @finnofamerica @lathalea @ass-deep-in-demons @quiall321 @mistofstars @justfollowtheroad @guardianofrivendell @glassgulls @doctorwhump @kmc1989 @estethell @emrfangirl @emmanuellececchi

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here.

What had he been thinking? 

Boromir swallowed the oath rising to his lips as he dragged the stinking, rotting, unwieldy orc corpse down past an out-of-control blackberry brambles, along a path that grew more and more narrow as he moved deeper into the woods. Kaia said there was a clearing just down the path. Well, what did just down the path even mean? He felt as if he’d hobbled a mile already and yet saw nothing even remotely resembling a clearing. 

His back ached. His chest ached. His thigh throbbed. He was ready to just let the foul corpse rot right there on the path. He’d had enough dealings with orcs and wouldn’t be the least bit upset to never lay eyes upon one again. Curse the lot of them. 

He scowled. And what on earth had possessed him to kiss Kaia?

He let go of the orc’s legs, which hit the dirt with a dull thud, and with a groan and a wince, he straightened up. The now-familiar hot sting swept in the equally familiar wave from his collarbone to his knee. It wasn't quite as bad as it had been, but he’d still not miss it when he’d healed completely. 

Footsteps sounded and he automatically reached for the sword that was not on his hip, but instead remained in the cabin, leaning against the wall in the kitchen. A foolish mistake and one he’d not repeat again, to be sure. 

The orc’s head rolled about the bend, followed by Kaia, who flinched as she swatted at it with a stick to send it on down the path, almost to where he stood. She scowled as she looked up at him. “I said I would do this.”

“I know what you said. And I am not completely useless, so I decided I would do it.”

She sighed, and he didn't miss the eyeball that accompanied it. “Boromir, I never said you were useless.”

“You don’t have to.” He crouched and grabbed the ankles again and as he moved once more, he’d swear the orc was heavier now. “Believe me, I know I am.”

“Oh, stop that. You’ve made great strides, but it’s only been a few days, remember.”

The head made a sickening squelching sound when Kaia whacked it with the stick and this time, she’d struck it with enough force that it shot past him, and down the slight embankment, down into the clearing at last. 

With a low grunt, he shoved the corpse down the slope in the wake of its head and a few minutes later, between him and Kaia, who’d brought a small jar of oil, flint and steel, they managed to get a fire going. A rank stink filled the air as thick, black smoke rose from the flaming corpse. 

Dragging the back of his wrist across his forehead, Boromir looked over at Kaia. “How far are we from your cabin?”

“Half a mile, perhaps more. I’m not sure. I just know that nothing seems to ever come back here. It always feels… heavy…”

He looked about at the trees and bushes, none of which seemed any different from the other parts of the woods. “I feel nothing heavy.”

“You don’t?” She looked up at him, her brows pulled low. “It feels like the air is pressing in on me. And there so much sadness here… It’s not a pleasant place at all. I don't blame anyone who avoids it.”

He shrugged. “I feel nothing but the urge to go back and put my leg up.”

“You’ll get no argument from me.” She seemed to hesitate, then added, “Do you need to lean on me?”

He wanted more than anything to tell her no, that he could manage just fine on his own. But the truth was, the aches in his leg, in his chest, were worse than they’d been in some time. She didn't wait for him to admit to it, but instead sidled up to him and eased her arm about his waist. “It’s a long way back.”

He nodded, draping his arm about her shoulders. While he tried not to lean on her, each step grew more difficult and by the time they were back at her cabin, he was breathless and sweating and exhausted. The steps up to the back porch were nearly the end of him, and he couldn’t hold back his groan as he finally sank into the sofa. 

“I’ll go brew that tea for you.”

He nodded, managing to grit, “I would appreciate it.”

“Of course.”

His eyes closed of their own, but he did not fall asleep. Instead, he lay there pondering the madness that drove him to kiss Kaia. The madness that now drove him to want to kiss her again. 

As she waited for the water to come to a boil, Kaia sang softly beneath her breath. Once again, he understood not a word, but it didn’t matter, for her voice was almost angelic in tone. It soothed him as well as any balm or any tea brewed for pain, and as he listened, that urge to kiss her swept through him again. 

No one could fault him, for the more time he’d spent with her, the more he realized how wrong he’d been about her. She was not nearly as mannish as he’d originally thought, and while he would never use the word demure to describe her, he found he rather liked her outspokenness and her habit of saying exactly what she thought. It was refreshing to not have to wonder what she meant or if she was honestly speaking her mind.

But most of all, he realized she was anything but plain. In fact, the more time he spent with her, the more he saw that she was actually something of a beauty, with her wild mane of dark red curls falling about her face, and while he knew her eyes were green, he’d noticed that they seemed to change depending on what she wore. In the time since he’d first opened his eyes in her cabin, he’d seen hers go from green, to aqua, to a stunning turquoise shade he’d never seen before. 

He couldn’t explain why the urge to kiss her had taken him over, as it wasn't until she helped him tug his trousers up that it even hit. Then, something called to him, and that something awakened a need within him. As soon as he touched her, as soon as his hands curved about her cheeks, his blood felt hotter, felt as if it rushed through his veins with greater force. All he could think about was how her lips would feel beneath his, how her kiss would taste to him, and he was powerless to resist that pull. 

Had she felt it, too? She hesitated at first, but then…

A soft groan rose to his lips, one he managed to hold back. Once her lips parted, he didn't want to stop at just kissing her. The moment his tongue touched hers, he wanted to gather her in his arms, to peel off the layers of linen and wool between them, to feel her skin bare against his.

If it hadn’t been for the fiery flare of pain driving up into his hip…

“Boromir?”

He jumped slightly at Kaia’s voice, his eyes snapping open as she bent to set a cup on the table. “Th-thank you,” he murmured thickly, rubbing his face with both hands. His cheeks were bristly now as he hadn’t shaved in weeks, so instead of the goatee he preferred, he had to be near full beard by now. Perhaps she had a looking glass he could borrow to remove what didn't belong on his face. 

“Are you hungry? It’s getting late, so I should put something on for supper.”

His stomach growled to answer for him, which made Kaia smile. “I suppose that is that, then.  I know we only had some last eve, but all I have is what is left of the hunter’s stew. I’ll have to go fishing or try to scare up some game, but deer are becoming more and more rare these days, so I can promise nothing.”

“I have some lembas in my pack,” he said softly, gesturing toward said pack as he spoke. “If we are desperate enough, a small bite is enough to fill my stomach, so it should be more than enough for you.”

She nodded. “It would be, yes.”

“You’ve heard of it?”

“I can fish as well, as I said,” she told him. “Game is becoming difficult to find, but orcs don't know the first thing about what can be found in the river. I just—I hesitate to leave you alone for that long. Especially considering an orc has already wandered here as it is.”

“I’d be fine. I’m not quite as helpless as you think I am.”

A hint of color rose along her slanted cheekbones. “I don't think you’re helpless at all. Far from it. But,” she shrugged, “you were seriously wounded and only in the earliest stages of recovery. I’m merely concerned for you, is all.”

He leaned his head back and let out a long sight. “I know and it frustrates me that I am so seemingly helpless. It is not something I am accustomed to feeling.”

“I imagine you aren’t,” she said, sinking onto the table, as was her wont. “I assume you are a soldier of some sort?”

He hesitated for a moment, just staring up at her. He’d been in her company not quite a week, and knew better than to trust as yet. But at the same time, she’d given him no reason not to trust her. She’d seen him at his lowest and cared for him. If that didn't earn her trust, what else would?

With that, he nodded. “I am. The Captain of the White Tower, which will mean nothing to you, I’m certain. But then again, I am not so certain it means anything to me any longer.”

Her forehead furrowed and she shook her head. “Why would you say that?”

“Because of—things—that happened since I left Minas Tirith.”

“Things.” She nodded slowly now. “I understand that completely. I, too, have things in my past that weigh heavily on me from time to time.”

She met his gaze then and for a moment, he forgot how to breathe. Somehow, he just knew she understood, that she wouldn’t press to learn what those things were, which was just as well. He might be coming to trust her, but he would never trust anyone enough to ever admit to what he’d done, to admit to how far he’d fallen. She would turn him out, should she know the truth. 

Her eyes softened. “How long ago did you leave Minas Tirith?”

“Almost a year ago, which is rather hard to believe, actually. It’s been a bit of a journey.”

“A year? That is a journey.”

“What about you?” He nodded toward her. “When did you leave home?”

She didn't answer him at first, but stared down at her hands, clasped between her knees. He didn’t press, didn't push, but just waited. He didn't want to rush her, didn't want her to retreat, but wanted her to trust him as he did her. 

“I, too, left home about a year ago.” 

She looked up and the shadows in her eyes troubled him to a certain degree. “Did something happen to drive you from it?”

She pressed her lips together and as they disappeared into a white line, he sat up and without thinking, caught her hands in his. “Kaia? What happened?”

“How do you think I know what orcs do? What they’re capable of?”

“You’ve crossed paths with them, haven’t you? I mean, before you came here.”

“I have, yes.” Her fingers linked, then split, then linked again, this time tightening enough to turn her knuckles white. “They came through our village a year ago. Our farm was on the northern edge and they simply swept through and destroyed everything in their path.”

Her hands relaxed then, the backs of her fingers brushing his palms. Her voice was soft, filled with memory and pain and when she met his eyes again, he saw that same pain reflected in the green depths. Without thinking, he linked his fingers with hers and gave a gentle squeeze. “I am sorry, Kaia.”

“There were so many of them,” she went on softly, looking at their entwined fingers, “and they just kept coming. We’d cut ten down, only to find twenty more in their wake. And they care not who or what they kill. They just kill. Men. Women, Children. Pets. Livestock. They just cut down every living thing in their path. Without hesitation.”

“I know them all too well,” he told her. The urge to tug on her hands, to pull her into his arms, swept through him, but he resisted. “You are fortunate you were spared.”

“I wasn't spared,” she told him, shaking her head as her eyes shimmered. “I fought them, fought alongside my brothers and my father and the all of the men who toiled for him. And I fell alongside them as well.”

As she spoke, she pulled free from his grasp and rose, and as she did, she lifted her tunic. Along her left side, from her ribs downward, disappearing into the waist of her trousers, ran a thin, slightly jagged line. “I played dead once the orc ran me through. Dropped to the ground and after he moved on, smeared blood anywhere I could reach and just lay there, hoping none would double check. When dawn approached, they moved on and when it stayed quiet, I figured it was safe to get up. I checked on every body I came to, but—”

Her voice broke and she sat back down with a soft thud, clasping her hands between her knees once more as she stared at the floor. “I couldn't help any of them. I tried, but there was nothing I could do. So, I sewed myself up—” 

He couldn’t keep himself from blurting, “You treated your own wound?”

She nodded, her face going somewhat pale. “It had to be done, so—” she shrugged—“I did it. I steeled myself with some of my father’s whisky first, which made my stitches clumsier, but it was the only way I could tolerate it. And after a while, I felt practically nothing.”

She offered up a rueful smile as she lifted her tunic again and swept her fingers along the edge of the scar nearest her ribs. “And that is why it is very jagged up here.”

“Still,” he shook his head as, without thinking, he reached out to brush his fingers along the uppermost part of the scar, “I am impressed.”

“I had no choice if I didn't wish to bleed to death, although I will admit, sewing oneself is not easy, even without considering the pain. I am lucky I did not make matters worse and that I survived long enough to even see the next morning. But, when I felt up to it, I took what weapons I could find and I ran. And I’ve been running ever since and any chance I have to kill an orc,” she looked up at him and his blood almost ran cold at the steeliness of her gaze, “I take great joy in doing so.”

“I couldn't fault you if I tried,” he told her, catching her hands in his once more to give them a gentle squeeze. “I would do the same.”

“And that’s why I helped you. I went back to see if the halflings were still there, but if the orcs took them…”

His gut twisted violently even as he nodded. Merry and Pippin were most likely already dead. And there was a strong possibility that Aragorn and Gimli and Legolas were as well. And that was because of him…

He winced at the thought, at the steaming hot guilt that swept through him. Kaia bore no blame, no shame, while he bore all of both. He swallowed hard and met her gaze once more. “And I will be forever grateful, of course.”

“I didn't do it for you. I did it for me,” she said with a hint of a rueful smile. “I failed my family, my people, I wouldn’t fail you if I could help it.”

“You failed no one,” he assured her, shaking his head. “Outnumbered and out-armed, there was nothing more you could do.”

“I know that’s what people would say to try to make me feel better.” She pulled her hands free and rose again, moving to the hearth where she took several pieces of wood from the small bin to stack on the grate. “But, it does not help at all. I did fail them. I survived and they didn't and I will never understand how that happened. And before you try to explain it to me, know that I will never understand it. Not ever.”

“Then I won’t try to explain it. I know it all too well.”

“You do?” She looked over her shoulder at him. “How?”

A dull ache took root in his chest, in his thigh, one that had him carefully rubbing the muscle around the wounds on his leg. “That isn’t important. Let’s simply leave it that I know.”

“Is that why you had to leave your city?”

“Something like that, yes.”

And let me guess, people filled you with the same platitudes that made them feel better but did nothing for you.”

He hesitated, but then offered up a slow nod. “Something of that sort, yes.”

For a moment, he thought she might prod him, ask what had happened, and he offered up an inward sigh of relief when she just nodded herself. “It’s a useless thing, isn’t it? People who try to make you feel better when they really only mean to assuage their own guilt or whatever.”

Silence settled about them, but it was only momentary as she met his eyes once more and said, “I’m so very sorry I couldn’t save your friends.”

“Apologize for nothing,” he told her softly. “You did what you could and that was more than I could ever ask of you.”

She got a small fire going and moments later, the flames sizzled as rain pattered down. It dotted the windowpanes and the roof and as she rose to go into the kitchen, that was the end of the conversation.

The rain fell harder as the night wore on. Kaia sighed softly as she sat at the table, a cup of tea long gone cold before her. Boromir had eaten some, but then went back to the sofa and was now asleep once more. The fire on the hearth in the great room had died down to just barely anything, but the room remained cozy still.

Thinking back to their conversation, she wondered what it was Boromir wasn’t telling her, because she had the feeling he held something back from her. Did it have something to do with the two halflings she’d seen in the clearing? Perhaps they weren’t friends of his at all. She had no way of knowing, but she felt he definitely wasn't telling her his entire story about why he’d left Minas Tirith.

The White City. She’d heard tales of it, and of its warriors, since she was a child, but she’d never seen the city herself. She’d never been to Gondor, as far as she knew, as her people came from further north. North of Rohan. North of wherever she was at that moment, for she had no idea where her cabin was located, she’d simply come across it, found it empty, and set up house there.

From where she sat, she couldn't see Boromir, but could only hear him and at that moment, he snored softly, which made her smile as it had the first time she’d heard it. It was almost a comforting sound, for it meant she was not alone and she’d forgotten what it felt like to not be alone since that terrible night when the orcs rampaged through her village.

Over the last year, she’d learned so much about herself, the main lesson being that she could take care of herself if she absolutely had to and up until that night, she had not been pampered, but she’d definitely been well-cared for by her mother and her stepfather. Her stepbrothers were all older and just as protective as her parents. She’d been raised secure in their love and her place in the family and her biggest worry had been which of the village boys she might want to court her. 

In the span of a few hours, that all crumbled down about her ears. As the sun came up that morning, and she was certain the orc pack had moved on, she gone back to what was left of the farmhouse where she’d been raised, gathered what supplies she could, treated her wound and when she felt up to it, finally left. She’d found the sword now propped by the kitchen door in the rubble of a neighbor’s house, and as soon as she’d found that, she left her village and did not look back.

The days had a way of blending into one another, so she wasn't entirely certain how much time had passed since that terrible night, but it was at least a year. Possibly longer. She couldn't be sure, but she knew that a long time had passed and the girl she had been was long since dead. 

With that, she rose from her chair and moved around to take one last peek at Boromir. He slept peacefully, more so than any other night since she’d brought him to her cabin. Leaning against the back of the sofa, she peered down at him. Asleep, he looked far younger than his years, the worries and cares of his daily burdens had fallen away and left him also at peace. He was, in fact, quite a handsome man, and she wondered once more why a man like him would kiss her. It made no sense to her at all. Men such as him did not court women such as her. She was too plain and tall, too mannish, as one of stepbrothers teased her once. Her interests lay not in fashion or beauty, but in horses and weapons. A man such as Boromir would not look twice at her. 

So, why did he kiss her? 

He let out a particularly loud snore and tugged the blanket closer to his chin. With a soft smile, she came around to the front of the sofa and with gentle fingers, stroked along his honey-gold hair. It was most likely only a coincidence, but Boromir sighed in his sleep and murmured, “Oh, love…”

Trying to ignore the odd flutter of her heart, Kaia leaned over and pressed a kiss into his forehead. “Sleep well.”

She waited to see if he’d react, but he remained quiet and soundly asleep. With a slight sigh, she straightened, blew out the candle, and made her way to her bedchamber, where she lay awake for longer than she cared to think about, wondering why Boromir had kissed her, if she would ever work up the nerve to ask him why he’d done it, and if he would ever do so again. 

[gummybugg]

find the word tag!

tagged by @digitalsatyr23 here! havent done this tag in a bit, but i have more writing now so its not so difficult to find new words :'D

rules: find the words in your writing and paste a sample here

my words to find: wrong, find, dream, and cloud

(Wasn't sure if this post warrents a content warning, but it does reference suicidal ideation, dissociation, and kidnapping, so be aware.)

...

WRONG

(from my dormant wip the mice come out at night - morgana's pov/diary entry)

I was supposed to have died that day, I found myself thinking. But this thought wasn't out of scorn or hatred for the times I had made since then, it was a matter of fact. I didn't get what I had been promised, yet this time I wasn't so sure what I had expected at the time. Morgana then and now were two cherries separated at the stem. Our concept of what we thought we needed mirrored, the reflection a jarring contrast. "You must have the wrong guy," I found myself saying, cutting through my rampant thoughts. I highly doubted there was anything Vincent could be capable of lying to us about. Even if he decided to tell the others and not me, I was at least 99% certain Juniper would have spilled it by now.

FIND

(from my wip crater city - melony's pov)

Darcy looked down at his hands and the tears that fell into them. "I'm crying." He said, as if baffled by the phenomenon. His voice grew more distant, attempting to fade seamlessly into the background noise. "Look what you've made me do." "Darcy..." I began. "It feels warm and achy. But something is there. It's times like these that make me feel real. Feel human." "Darcy, you are human." "At this moment, I am. In the next few seconds, I won't be anymore. I hate it when emotions fade out of existence..." He sat at my desk with his face buried in his hands. It was customary for when his "mind checked out," as he used to say. "Your emotions don't go away. They're just hiding." He looked up at me with hollow eyes and a slack jaw. But they weren’t hollow because they were empty; they were hollow because they had yet to return. "They're just playing a game of hide and seek.” He grunted in agitated confusion. I sighed, picking up where I left off in the clutter. “Right now, sadness is 'it' and it's having a hard time finding the others. Hmm, I'd wager that anger is hiding in a prickly blackberry bush. Fear isn't always smart, so it's hiding clear-as-day behind a tree. Happiness is relaxing way up high in a tree..." I stood on my toes to prop the last textbook at the top of the shelf. The ridiculous analogy made Darcy chuckle. "It seems it found laughter first," I stuck out my tongue. Darcy came over to help, except my balance was a bit off and the book may have accidentally slipped from my fingers. It knocked him on the head before hitting the floor with a deafening belly flop. Instead of complaining about his head, his eyes lingered on the fallen book for a few extra seconds.

DREAM

Uhhhh none i think

CLOUD

(from my wip crater city - blair's pov)

I slapped the dented trunk of the sedan shut. The trunk was a briefcase from the show Steal or No Steal, and I was the pretty lady in red. But the look on Elijah’s face told me he was not fully convinced that this was the deal of a lifetime. He was starting to get on my nerves. He didn't know how to appreciate an offer of such high demand. It was honestly insulting. However, my TV show escapade was short-lived once I realized that he wasn’t going to let up. He was really upset, wasn't he? I could see it in his vacant stare: his soul had left his body. He took a step back, hands hovering cluelessly at his sides. “Uh, Elijah? What’s wrong, man?” I leaned against the creaky trunk, which snapped further shut, almost forfeiting my balance. It really needed more bungee cords, come to think if it. “This…this isn’t even one of the guys that harassed me.” “Come again?” Elijah was such a joker. “Blair…” The abstraction of my friend clutched my shoulders, causing the damp fabric to press into my skin. His hollow eyes sat constricted in their sockets, white about to burst in urgency. “It’s just some guy with green hair…” “Yeah, and…?” I raised a brow. Of course, he had green hair. What was he going on about? I saw a man with the same colored hair as one of the guys Elijah described, then I…wait, where did I even find this guy? I don’t even remember his face. And it would really be embarrassing to double-check by popping open the trunk. Had I really…? I searched the swirling green clouds for an answer. Then Elijah called my name and my wandering eyes found their way back to his.

...

gently tagging @asterhaze @ditzybitzyspider @forthesanityofsome @frostedlemonwriter @new-royston-cursebreakers and anyone else

rules: find the words in your writing and paste a sample here

your words to find: pull, back, away, and whenever

...

crater city mayhem taglist (dm to be added/removed): @writeouswriter @lyra-brie @digitalsatyr23 @talesfromtheunknowable

[cariantha]

Chosen at random! 3, 12, 21, 36, 47, 55, 61, 79, 80, 92

I'm greedy, sorry 😆

Hi there! And thank you! I'm going to answer these from my current timeline which would put E&S in Book 2, a couple weeks after the poison attack. I also answered these interview style, so I'm going to include my tag list.

Make Me Admit Stuff

#3: Have you taken someone's virginity?

Sawyer: "No."

Ethan: "Yes." (And I may or may not be currently working on a fic that will reveal who with).😉

#12: Do you own a pair of skinny jeans?

Sawyer: "Yes. Several."

Ethan: "What the hell are 'skinny' jeans?"

Sawyer: "Ethan, they are the kind that I wear. You know, the style that made you curse in frustration the other night as you tried to remove them."

Ethan: "Ah, yes, I have a love/hate relationship with those jeans. But I think I have the technique down now. Unzip, fold down, and peel away."

#21: Are you in a good mood?

Sawyer: "Today ... today has been one of the better days."

She glances at Ethan for reassurance.

Ethan: "Yes..."

He looks lovingly at Sawyer and squeezes her hand.

Ethan: "It's been a good day."

#36: Do you know where the last person you kissed is?

Ethan: "Yes."

Sawyer: (points to Ethan)

#47: Who was the last person to call you?

Sawyer: "My mom. She's been checking in everyday since...it happened."

Ethan: "Naveen. To also check on how Sawyer is doing--"

Sawyer: (covering his hand with hers) "And you..."

#55: Favorite type of fruit pie?

Sawyer: "That's a tough one. I love cherry and apple. Not a big fan of peach. Hmm, if I had to pick just one, I'd go with Razzleberry. It's a mix of raspberries, blueberries and blackberries. Though I do love lemon and key lime too. Really anything tart."

Ethan: (distracted)

Sawyer: "Ethan? What about you?"

Ethan: (looks up from his phone where he was Googling Razzleberry pie recipes) "Oh, uh, Dutch apple."

#61: Wear a bath robe?

Ethan: "No."

Sawyer: "Only because I live with roommates. If I lived on my own, then no."

#79: What was the last concert you saw?

Ethan: "Garth Brooks."

Sawyer: (snaps her head to Ethan in surprise and laughs) "That is not what I was expecting you to say."

Ethan: "Naveen is a huge fan. When I heard that Garth's tour was coming to town last year, I gifted him a pair of tickets for his birthday. He insisted that I go with him."

Sawyer: "Did you wear a cowboy hat and boots?"

Ethan: "No." (starts scrolling through this phone) "But Naveen did. He had the big belt buckle too. I have a picture here somewhere. What about you?"

Sawyer: "Justin Bieber."

Ethan: (rolls his eyes)

Sawyer: "Hey! Don't judge me. I went with my baby sister."

Ethan: "Oh, I'm so judging you right now."

Sawyer: (murmurs under her breath) "My mama don't like you and she likes everyone."

Ethan: "What?"

Sawyer: "Nothing. Next question."

#80: Hot tea or cold tea?

Ethan: "Cold."

Sawyer: "I'm not a fan of either. But if I'm sick and desperate for some relief, I'll sip on some hot tea."

#92: Do you want to get married?

Sawyer: "Yes? I've always pictured myself married one day. But is it a deal breaker if I meet the 'one?' Not necessarily. For me, it's not about the certificate or the title and name change. I just want the promise of commitment. And to be honest, most of my hesitation about getting married has more to with the actual wedding. My mother is a wedding planner, and the thought of her insisting on a huge, over the top wedding makes me break out in hives. If I get married, I want my wedding to be intimate and romantic. I want to be present and savor every moment with my partner. I don't want to be the main attraction at a circus, dancing and performing for everyone else just because it's 'tradition.' Does that makes any sense?"

Ethan: (looks to Sawyer) "I didn't used to think so. But one thing I've learned recently is...it's impossible to know what the future will bring."

Tagging: @potionsprefect @jamespotterthefirst @annfg8 @peonierose @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam @jerzwriter @quixoticdreamer16 @mysticalgalaxysstuff @inlocusmads @txemrn @trappedinfanfiction @mvalentine @takemyopenheart @openheartforeverinmyheart @coffeeheartaddict2 @genevievemd @starrystarrytrouble @hopelessromantic1352 @kyra75 @lsvdw-blog @rookiemartin @headoverheelsforramsey

[uncxntrxllable]

A VERY DESCRIPTIVE PROFILE OF YOUR MUSE. Repost with the information of your muse, including headcanons, etc. if you fail to achieve some of the facts, add some other of your own!

NAME: Charlie

NICKNAME: Coyote

TITLE(S): she doesn't really have any titles

AGE: over 1000 years, but, appearance wise you can say she fits late 20s

SPECIES: spirit shaper

SEX: female

NATIONALITY: Ancient? I don't know. Was American a thing 1000+ years ago? I have no idea. But today she'd be considered American

INTERESTS: can stealing be an interest? reading, sight-seeing, hiking, camping, anything to do with being in nature, drawing or painting, fire, humans, animals, other supernaturals, running around as a coyote

PROFESSION: being a nuisance to society

BODY TYPE: tall ish, thin / slender, well-built

EYES: brown

HAIR: blonde

SKIN: more tanned, I'd say

FACE: Madelyn Cline

POSTURE: shoulders and head up, she's confident and it shows in the way she carries herself

HEIGHT: 5' ft 6

VOICE: I don't know how to describe voice tbh so 👍 watch outer banks I dunno

SIGNATURE OUTFIT: she doesn't have any signature outfits in most of her verses but I mean, in her Fallout verse she's always got a leather jacket with her gang symbol embroidered on the back of it. but in general she likes to dress casually with just a little style.

SIGNIFICANT OTHER: well in present day? nobody. but her best SO was Sonya

COMPANIONS: Fang, but he's not technically a companion. he's her soul so I mean, but he's still someone to talk to. you can consider him a companion.

ANTAGONISTS: she still holds a grudge against her own kind even though they are now basically extinct. if you are a spirit shaper, immediate hostility, high risk of death for simply existing as a spirit shaper in her presence.

STRENGTHS: confident, brave, loyal, very dedicated... her dedication extends to good things and bad things... affectionate / loving and compassionate, smart, protective

WEAKNESSES: an absolute bitch, a bit of a bully, egotistical, stubborn, prankster or mischievous oftentimes in the worst way.

FRUITS: any kind of berries but especially blackberries, and apples

DRINKS: water, tea or coffee, lemonade, anything carbonated

ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES: wine, but will say yes to literally anything

SMOKES: nope, she doesn't like it, never has and hates the smell

DRUGS: none

DRIVER'S LICENSE: she knows how to drive, but when cars were first invented she didn't need no driver's license and has never bothered to get one because then she'd have to explain why she never ages and who wants to do that just to get it renewed, she drives without a license if she does drive

tagged by: @caracarnn tagging: @coveitous (cross ofc) @fvrsaeken (judith but make it her famous au), @herbalwarlock @rocklandjbrin @rowan-revelry (valgrim), @ayakoito @cicero-the-assassin @escapedfromthevoiid (dani) @paleobird @wexarethewalkingxdead (sophia)

[jungle-angel]

Lazy Hazy Days Of Spring (Calvin Evans x Reader)

Summary: You and Calvin finally have enough time to spend with each other and now that school is letting out, you decide to make the best of it

Warnings: Parenthood, mentions of pregnancy and birth etc.

Tagging: @floydsmuse @ateliefloresdaprimavera

Calvin crept his way downstairs, wanting to surprise you and Ellen, the two of you thinking he was still upstairs asleep.

Six-Thirty woke right up from where he, Rosie and their new puppies were all asleep, the curly little ones and the runt of the litter nestled between Six-Thirty's paws. Calvin gave him a few ear scritches, smiling at the sight.

"You big Casanova you," he chuckled. "I was wondering when you'd settle down and have a litter."

Calvin made his way into the kitchen and sure enough, there you were in your pretty spring house dress with Ellen on your hip, the both of you in matching salmon pink. The window was open to let in the warm air and the birds were singing in the backyard, the sunshine filling the whole sky.

Ellen suddenly began babbling and making grabby hands and when you turned around, there was Calvin. "Well good morning, Daddy," you teased.

Calvin laughed as he took a wriggling Ellen from you, her little hands bunching up his blue button down. Calvin kissed your cheek before littering Ellen's with kisses.

"Something smells good, Momma," he remarked. "What are we making this morning?"

"Eggs, bacon, toast, coffee," you rattled off, taking the jar of fresh jam from the fridge. "Henny gave me some of her homemade blackberry jam."

Calvin's eyes almost rolled to the back of his head. Henny King's homemade jam was almost as legendary as her backyard garden.

You and Calvin ate together before cleaning up and headed outside as soon as the dishes were done. You let Six-Thirty and Rosie out to do their business and for them to get a little exercise before they retreated back into the house to tend to their puppies.

You, Calvin and Ellen enjoyed the afternoon as it came, the three of you snuggling in the hammock that lay between the two crape myrtle trees in the backyard. The three of you slept long and peacefully in the hammock, shaded by the canopy of trees with your arms around each other. Spring was already giving way to summer, but you both wouldn't have had it any other way.