#My brain is to muddy to think of tags to tag

[calmasyoghurt]

I'm about half way through my train journey home from jokerborg. Last night was really good and as promised I'll share some really grainy pictures I took. Under the cut because there's stuff to unpack.

First of: Ola/OlikaHansen

Their songs where so good and I'm really happy I got to see them live. I think they said in their application video that they might release some music this year which is just !!.

Next up, the head pieces. We got princess Kris

Teletubbie Jan (sorry for the extra shity quality on this one)

And of course Nace's head being eaten by a shark

Right after demoni Bojan asked if we had released our demons, then asked the same to Nace directly. I think Nace signaled that he had, so then Bojan said smth like "great, for that you get whatever this is supposed to be" and put that hat on Nace's head before saying he looked gorgeous. Nace walked up to the mic and was like "do I?". Of course you do Nacko.

Then I took this pic of Kris and Nace staring at each other

Then we have princess PiJano and Bojan during Metulji

And last up, all of them exept Jure because Nace stood in the way

That's pretty much all the ones I have, now I'm going to go read the new chapter of The Holidate fic

[emile-hides]

You’re telling me you can PAY someone to listen to your unholy bullshit???

[eddiesxangel]

I Don’t Think We Are in 1986 Anymore! Master List

Based off of the Stranger Prompts directly from the Twilight Zone. Created by @bettyfrommars @allthingsjoeq @somnambulic-thing 🖤

What do you do when you find a muddy injured stranger hiding in your closet who claims he’s from the eighties?

a lot of you asked for a part two so I will be tagging those who asked. I’m not sure how many parts there will be? probably just the two but we shall see where my brain takes me.

Cw: modern!day Reader, female reader, time travel, older!stranger things characters, canon, adjacent?The Upsidedown, mentions of demobats, injuries, Age gap, Eventual smut, mature themes, 18+ only pls and thank you

Part 1

Part 2

[lizzy-bonnet]

I love Jane Austen's work and I love podcasts, so naturally I follow several JA podcasts (please drop recs in the tags). I'm enjoying Live from Pemberley from Hot and Bothered, but a comment from literally the first episode of the series has been circulating in my brain since I listened to it several months ago: one of the hosts expressed surprise (and disappointment?) in the fact that when we first meet Lizzy, she is "employed in trimming a hat". This comment literally comes right after a conversation about how Austen tells us so much in the very short space of Chapter 1; without wasting any words, we know exactly who Mr. and Mrs. Bennet are (lightly toxic relationship), understand their family situation (need to marry well), meet the main driver of the first act (rich man in the neighbourhood), and understand a social dilemma (girls can't meet him if Mr. Bennet does not make the first overture). So what is Austen telling us when we meet Lizzy in the employment of trimming a hat?

We so often read a sort of modern girlboss feminism into Lizzy because she is smart and stands up for herself, but I think that's something that really gets embroidered on to the text. Lizzy trimming a bonnet is telling us several things about her:

She is frugal - new hats and bonnets are really expensive (my casual hobby is shopping for reproduction bonnets and this remains true), because the straw is braided by hand, the bonnet shape is assembled and blocked by hand, feathers have to be gathered from real (living or dead) birds, ribbons and flowers are hand-finished, the whole situation is fuck expensive. Lizzy is most likely putting new trim on a straw or wool bonnet she already owns to make it work better for this season's fashions, or a new dress, and possibly recycling trimmings from other hats. Contrast this with Lydia's spending all her pocket money on an ugly hat in Chapter 39, just so she can reduce it to parts, even though she acknowledges she'll also have to buy some extra satin too, to finish the project.

She cares about fashion - we don't get a lot of information on sartorial choices in Austen's work, and when characters are discussing fashion, it tends to be a framework for explaining something about their characters; Miss Steele's need to know how much Marianne's dresses cost (rude, crass); Mrs. Bennet's loving description of the lace on Mrs. Hurst's gown (shallow); Catherine Moreland's agonizing over what to wear to the Assembly (young, a bit flighty); Bingley wears a blue coat (has probably read The Sorrows of Young Werther, is fashionable). The fact that Lizzy is trimming a hat tells us she is fashionable, but paired with the fact that she will get a petticoat muddy in order to see her sister, and does not spend a lot of time worrying after fashion like Lydia tells us that she does not live and die on fashion.

She is creative - I've trimmed various hats and bonnets over my years of interest in historical fashion and honestly it's not easy. It's quite fiddly to get a nice ribbon edge, a ruched lining takes forever, and getting sprays of florals and feathers to be nicely shaped and all in a complementary palette is quite fussy. Getting a nice looking bonnet requires some thinking and planning. But it's also great fun! The Regency era is, in my opinion, a particularly good period for hats.

She is normal - I think Austen wants the reader to understand that Lizzy is a young woman with normal cares and concerns. She doesn't have cash for a new bonnet, she wants to look nice, she knows how to put an outfit together, she's not frivolous like her sisters, and she engages in the typical pursuits of someone who is not yet one and twenty who does not have a specific occupation.

A lot of modern readers are expecting Lizzy to be striding around the countryside unconcerned with "girly" things, or reading a clever book because we have come to think of her as proto-feminist in a way that suggests she might be a bra (corset) burner, but I think that comes from an outdated feminist lens that still wants to tell us that girly things are bad, or at least, a bit weak, and I don't see that in the text at all (I think some of this trickles over from the adaptations). Lizzy walks enthusiastically, she enjoys reading (but not to the exclusion of other employments), she dances very well and plays with mediocrity, she cares deeply about her friends and family, she has excellent manners, and dammit, she trims hats.

[beansprean]

Ghost Memo, watching Nadja about to scrub a 273-year-old wool rug with a wet mop coated in bleach and guano: No no no no no

ANYWAY this is my official season 5 wishful thinking AU, it's not going to be a formal comic timeline like my other stuff but I’m a little obsessed with it! Anything about it will be tagged #MFG s5 au

Masterpost

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. The house, exterior, night. Lower third reading “vampire residence”. A speech bubble from within the house cries out, “Ay, fucking- Nadja!” 1b. Full body of Nadja slumped in a an armchair in her and Laszlo’s crypt, a magazine featuring scantily clad women laid open on her lap. The same voice comes from offscreen: “Nadja! You know the rules! You drink it, you clean it!” Nadja groans loudly, head tipping back against the back of the chair, arms and legs hanging limply toward the floor, and grumbles, “Bossy fucking pig-brain…” 1c. Shot from the main foyer of the house as Nadja descends the stairs. Nandor is in the fancy room in the background, talking to the camera with a boom mic positioned above his head. Nadja sticks her tongue out in his direction as she passes. Nandor is saying, “No, I do not miss Guillermo. He made his choices. But now we all must contribute to the household until we can find a replacement familiar.”

2a. Nadja stands in the hallway, straddling the rug with hands on her hips as she glares down at a large half-dry bloodstain on the rug. A mop in a bucket of dirty water sits beside her, and Nandor’s voice is filtering in from the hallway, continuing, “Of course I am looking! Just… no one has been quite right!” 2b. Close up on the bucket, filled to the brim with bloody muddy water, as Nadja lifts the equally gross mop out of it, grumbling, “Treating me like a fucking washerwoman… not even in a sexy way…” 2c. Nadja turns back towards the stain, mop in hand, and stares down in shock when the rug appears to now be perfectly clean. 2d. Nadja snarls and throws the filthy mop angrily down at the rug with a wet splat, screaming “Fucking witches!”

3a. Close up on Nandor back in the fancy room, doing his talking head. He grimaces and picks at his fingers nervously, glancing away as he says “My reading? Uhh… it has been going very well. I have opened so many books...” From offscreen, Nadja yells “Nandor!” 3b. Shot from Nandor’s other side, framing Nadja in the doorway to the foyer. On the wall to the left there is a painting of “The Girl With The Pearl Earring” starring Laszlo. Nadja glares at Nandor with hands on hips and asks angrily, “Nandor, did you send the witches tainted fucking semens?” Nandor leans forward in his chair to face her, the camera on him also swinging over to get her in the shot. He replies, offended, “Of course not, I make only the best semens and Colin Robinson delivered my glorious seed to the witches just last week!” Nadja fires back “Well, you bloody donkeys must have done something, because they have cursed the fucking house!” 3c. Close up on the doorway, Nandor suddenly standing up in the corner and echoing, “Cursed?!” in fear. Laszlo sidles up to Nadja’s side, asking, “Cursed how, my dulcet darling?” Arms crossed defiantly, Nadja replies, “A cleaning curse! This is the third time I have gone to clean and the mess has disappeared on its own!”

4a. Nandor and Nadja in profile, divided by the doorway with Nandor still standing in the fancy room and Nadja in the hall. Laszlo is leaning on the door frame facing the viewer, hands casually in his pockets. He glances up at Nandor with one eyebrow raised as Nandor, looking confused, and Nadja, looking defiant, stare each other down. 4b. Nandor raises his eyebrows and folds his hands outward, placatingly, replying, “Okay…?” Laszlo grins up at his wife and says, “Sounds like a bloody good curse to me!” Nadja unfolds her arms and chops them through the air, glaring at the ceiling in exasperation as she declares, “There’s no such thing as good curses!” 4c. Close up on Laszlo in the doorway as Colin Robinson suddenly pops in from the hall, leaning in close as he throws out, “Maybe we’ve got ghosts again!” Laszlo leans away from him slightly in surprise, smile dropping. 4d. Return to previous shot. Nadja turns toward Colin, throwing out her arms angrily as she asks, “Why would a ghost want to clean our house?!” Nandor rolls his eyes upward, throwing out his own arms as he echoes, “Why would witches?!” Colin just smiles indulgently, enjoying the chaos. Laszlo hunches his shoulders uncomfortably in the doorframe, frowning as he looks away toward the fancy room.

5a. Close up on Nandor puffing himself up with superiority, hands imperiously planted on his hips as he begins, “Nadja, if you do not want to do your part of the chores-“ Nadja interrupts from offscreen, “Oh, blow it out your loose, hairy arsehole, Nandor!” The camera and boom are in view behind Nandor, eagerly recording the scene. 5b. Back in profile, Nandor leaning toward Nadja and echoing “Loose?!” in an offended way. Nadja leans right back in his space, spitting angrily, “If you would stop dragging your big, stupid feet about finding a new familiar, I wouldn’t have any bloody chores!” Nandor stutters back, “I-I am still making inquiries; it’s an important decision!” Behind them, Colin is leaning comfortably on the side of the doorframe, hands laced together in front of him and smiling as his eyes glow purple behind his glasses. Laszlo has turned to leave the frame, walking into the fancy room.

6a. Shot of the foyer from the doorway as Nadja marches away across the hall, throwing her arms up angrily as she declares, “Oh, whatever! Don’t blame me when you wake up without your testicles!” The paintings in the foyer include a vampire version of “The Scream” and a version of “American Gothic” with Nadja and Laszlo. In the foreground, Nandor stares after her with a grimace, muttering, “Fucking girl…” Colin turns toward Nandor, smiling, and prompts, “Hey Nandor, tell me more about all the books you’ve been reading.” 6b. Nadja, now alone, slumps into a high-backed chair in the library with her arms crossed, pouting at nothing. Behind her is a dilapidated side table carrying a few unlit candles and an overturned goblet crusted with blood. There are a few canvases tucked behind Nadja’s chair including one that appears to be a version of “The Creation of Adam” with Laszlo as Adam and Nadja as God, surrounded by bats.

7a. Close up on Nadja’s face in profile as she snarls and mutters to herself, “Stupid bloody men, never fucking listening to me…” 7b. Repeat of previous panel. Nadja’s eye widen in shock, mouth snapping tightly closed as a voice offscreen replies, “Tell me about it.”

8a. Bird’s eye view of Nadja sitting up in her chair with mouth agape, hands gripping the arms, and staring upward toward the ceiling. The edge of a familiar face is in the foreground, glowing with a bluish-green light. Nadja calls out instinctively, “What?!” 8b. Nadja repeats “What?!” even louder as we see what she sees: Guillermo, glowing bluish green, floating near the ceiling and absently cleaning a large portrait on the wall with a rag and unlabeled spray bottle. He is wearing the same sweater from the season 4 finale. Ghost Guillermo looks over his shoulder to meet Nadja’s eyes, surprised. 8c. Overlapping close ups of Guillermo and Nadja as he turns toward her fully, eyes wide and flushed with excitement as he cries, “Wait…Nadja, you can see me?!” Nadja stares back at him mutely in horror. In the bottom right corner is text reading “to be continued…?”

9. In the style of a movie poster. Ghost Guillermo, wearing that same sweater and a ghostly tail instead of legs, takes up the center of the frame, glowing in hues of blue, green, and purple. He has a feather duster held up in one hand and is holding the forefinger of the other to his open lips in a shushing gesture. Behind him in the top right is the vampire residence at a low dramatic angle, red door glowing angrily as light night strikes the sky beyond. Just below is a bust of Derek in his work clothes, looking up at Ghost Guillermo with a nervous smile. In the top left is a bust of Vampire Guillermo, wearing a red waistcoat and no glasses, scowling over his shoulder at his ghost self. Behind him, a silver crucifix with a broken chain floats past. At the bottom, Nadja, Laszlo, Colin Robinson, and Nandor stand waist-up in a row looking up at Ghost Guillermo. Nadja is grinning in excitement, Laszlo looks something between bored and concerned, Colin looks uncertain, and Nandor looks distraught and worried, wringing his hands together. The tagline is written in ghostly blue: “moving out… doesn’t mean moving on!”, and the title is listed at the bottom in dripping red font: “My Familiar’s Ghost”. At the bottom further text reads “coming October 2022” and “created by beansprean”. /end ID

[pappydaddy]

the tales of the infatuated (o.w.)

a/n: i am back and (hopefully) ready to write lovelies!

tv show/movie: harry potter

pairing: oliver wood x fem!shy!gyffindor!reader

requested

part one - there are parallels so read this one first please!

description: tales of oliver and y/n's relationship following the events of the woes of the highly overdramatic

warning: the reader is shy and beats herself up about it (slightly). please, as a shy person myself, never think being shy is bad or wrong in any way. being shy is 100% okay!

note: reader wears a lot of scarves and uses them to kind of hide when embarrassed.

taglist: @just-here-to-escape-reality | @rottenstyx | @boxofsilentwords | @badass-yn | @onyourgoddamnleft | @rootbeerfaygo | @i-always-come-back-xoxo | @spring-picnics | @lonely-simp | @slytherinambitiouss

a line through your user means i could not tag you for whatever reason! if you possibly changed your user, let me know and i will fix it on my taglist

masterlist | taglist | navigation

-not my gif -

  The air was filled with a sort of muddy smell. The kind of smell only found enjoyable since it meant spring was attacking the bitter cold, thawing the ground and bringing life back to the rather lifeless hills of Scotland. Oliver never really noticed the beauty within the changing of the seasons, all he noticed was that one day the scenery looked one way and the next it was different. Now, as he sat there, a warm cup of tea between his large, rough hands, listening to Y/N’s soft and naturally quiet voice talk about the changes in the season, he finally realized it was more than just disappearing snow or dying leaves. 

  “And look there, you see the small buds on that tree right outside the shop,” Y/N gasped quietly, her arm shooting out to point to the tree that was once sagging under the weight of the snow. “Look how small, but in a few weeks time, those will be beautifully coloured, large leaves full of life.” She hummed, hand nestling back on her own teacup. 

  Oliver looked from the window, towards her, eyes flicking over her face as she stared out the window in sheer amazement. Suddenly, the stubborn and slightly obsessed Gryffindor Quidditch Captain that normally oozes self-confidence and never does anything at leisure, found himself slowing down and enjoying it. Enjoying the seconds ticking by when he wasn’t working on plays. Enjoying the hours he has spent just looking at nature (and Y/N) and listening to her. Her voice was a little shaky and quiet, but it was the most beautiful sound to him. Even better than the sound of the crowd cheering whenever the Gryffindor team won another game. 

  Even in the moments of silence as she just existed, sipping her tea as she basked in his company. For someone who was so used to hanging around rambunctious and loud Quidditch players, he never thought silence and stillness could be so welcoming. Sure, being friends with Percy, he found himself surrounded by silence as Percy read in his presence, but Oliver would always do his own thing. It was never silent because his head was always busy and loud. Now, with Y/N, his brain was quiet. It was kind of comforting. 

  “Reckon we should make a quick trip to Honeydukes before it gets busy?” Oliver asked gently, not to startle her as he pulled her from her thoughts. A smile stretched onto her face, soft eyes sparking at him in the late afternoon spring sun. There was a sweet spot to visit the popular candy store. He had never thought of it before, he always just went to Honeydukes. It wasn’t until their relationship hit the four month mark that he noticed. 

  They had been out strolling around Hogsmeade. It was relatively quiet along the cobblestone streets as they walked in comfortable silence, Y/N’s eyes seeming to admire the world around them in awe - as if this was her first time in Hogsmeade. Oliver found his eyes glued to the corners, watching her, his heart thumping in a way that both calmed him and scared him. The noise of the rambunctious groups pooling in and out of Honeydukes made her stutter in her steps, her body stiffening as her eyes shifted to the large crowd. 

  His own eyes shifting from her, he observed the ruckus without panic, but it was obvious she was. As they slowly sauntered closer to the mass of people, her body seemed to become more stiff, her pace slowing. “Hey, how about we just sit on this bench here? I kinda want to just sit without for a little bit.” Oliver suggested, gesturing to a bench that sat not far from them. 

  She looked at it, open-mouthed, before looking back at Oliver. “But it’s covered in snow,” She blinked up at him. Oliver shrugged, walking over to it. She followed easily, their joined hands keeping them attached. “Are you sure, Oliver? I don’t want to make you sit out in the cold.” She pointed out. She knew he was just doing it because she was nervous around crowds and the possibility of a forced conversation..  

  “It’s early March, it’s starting to warm up,” He brushed her off. There was a nip in the air, but it was just enough to tinge the end of one's nose red. Part of him found this an added bonus because despite the scarf she kept nuzzling her face in, Y/N’s cheeks and nose would have that slight discoloration he loved so much. Sometimes he had to search for it, but it was there and he found it adorable. With his free hand, he brushed partially melted snow off the bench. “You can sit on my lap if you’re comfortable, I don’t want your pants to get wet.” He settled himself onto the bench, their hands still connected as she stood there apprehensively. 

  “You know, I am okay with going into Honeydukes, as long as you’re with me I can handle the crowd-” She was cut off by his hand leaving hers, his arms quickly wrapping around her waist to pull her down onto his lap. She squeaked out in shock, eyes widened. “Oliver! Warning would have been nice, you scared me!” She gasped despite the fact she seemed to melt into him. 

  “Sorry, Love,” He smiled, resting his chin on her shoulder. “But I wasn’t going to let you drag me into Honeydukes and sacrifice your comfort just because you think I am cold,” He pressed his lips to her cheek as she unburied her face from her scarf. “We’ll wait until it starts to calm down.” 

  “Well,” She hummed, trying to uncover her watch from under her coat and mittens. Oliver helped, rolling her oversized, knitted mitten down slightly, revealing the watch she always wore. “It usually calms down at forty after the hour, it’s the quietest part aside from just before close-”

  “Which isn’t an option because you don’t want the workers to think you’re ignorant coming into a shop five minutes before closing,” He finished for her. She looked into his eyes, the smile that was covered by her scarf evident through the gleam in her eyes. “We’ll wait five minutes then go in. Then, we can go to the Three Broomsticks because at that time, usually the Twins will be pulling off some sort of stunt outside of Zokos.” 

____

  Y/N never thought of the Quidditch Pitch as a sanctuary for her to escape to. It was usually always loud in some way - or she thought it was. Boy, was she wrong. Before she met Oliver, she much preferred to avoid attention and noise. it was out of her comfort zone to be in fast paced social environments - such as Quidditch games. Oftentimes, she was usually found lounging in quiet areas of Hogwarts, but obviously, since dating Oliver, she frequented the Pitch more often. Either while he was practicing (team or alone) or while he was playing. More recently, she could be spotted under Oliver’s arm while he sat in the crowd watching the other team’s games. 

  Now, even when they didn’t make appearances at other games, their usual spot was always open. It was now known as Oliver and Y/N’s spots. Oliver had scouted them out once. Situated right at the top of the bleachers, Oliver had found a sweet spot where Y/N wouldn’t feel overwhelmed by over-eager people screaming. Sitting right next to the stairs, she could quickly escape if needed. When they were practicing, she sat in the front, her book carefully balanced on the edge of the railing. 

  Right now, she sat in her normal spot, the fall breeze whispering around her. Her large eyes were locked on Oliver as his brown eyes quickly moved around the pitch, watching everything with his incredible perceptive eyes. He always amazed her with his attention to detail - most likely from being such a good keeper. He noticed everything. He could sometimes spot the snitch before any of the Seekers. 

  “Hey, Y/N,” She blinked as she was startled by someone talking to her. Eyes searching the crowd in front of her, she spotted Seamus, his face painted in Gryffindor colours, a lion’s mane around his face. “Did Oliver tell you anything about his strategy in this game? Those nasty snakes are neck and neck with us! What is going through his head?” Seamus’ Irish accent got thicker and thicker as he got riled up. 

  She squeaked, face heating up as she felt a few people looking at her - also questioning the same thing. One thing about dating the captain, people had lots of questions and were upset when they were losing or had the possibility of falling behind in the game. “I-I’m not-” She swallowed thickly, pulling the scarf she wore up around her face, trying to hide within it. “Um, I don’t really, uh-” She licked her lips, a little bit of fuzz from the scarf falling catching on her lips and tongue. “No, he didn’t.” She answered, making everybody look away from her. 

  Sinking into her seat, her back against the wall, she let out a breath. Her eyes fluttered closed as she cursed herself. ‘I couldn’t even answer a simple question! Stupid. Godric!’ She beat herself up before she let her eyes open at the sound of a shrill whistle. Instantly, her eyes met Oliver’s brown eyes. They were consumed by concern and a little bit of anger, but she knew it was directed to the people who made her uncomfortable. 

  “Gryffindor wins with Harry Potter catching the snitch! Starting off the season strong!” Lee’s voice boomed through the sound system, causing the stands to erupt in cheers (aside from the Slytherins who sneered at everyone as per usual). She could feel Oliver’s eyes on her as she stood, pulling the scarf down to show him her beaming smile. Sending him a thumbs up, she turned and made her way down the stairs. 

  She knew he would be waiting impatiently on the pitch right next to the tunnel he knew she would emerge from. “You won!” She exclaimed. Even in celebration, her voice was soft and quiet, but her face glowed in a way that far outweighed any form of vocalization. Without a second thought, she launched herself into his arms, legs and arms wrapping around him as his wrapped around her waist. Flush against each other, their faces buried within each other’s necks, they simply stayed like that. Oliver rocked them slightly, hands gripping each other’s clothes. They held each other in the most innocently desperate way, celebrating by feeling each other’s energies. 

  “Are you okay? They shouldn’t have been questioning you like that,” Oliver whispered into her hair, his breath tickling her neck slightly. She squealed, barely pulling away at the feeling. She could feel a slight smile stretching onto Oliver’s face at the reaction, but he turned serious a second later. “Reckon I need to make it clear that they can’t do that again.” 

  “It’s fine, Oliver-” She pulled away from him, hands coming up to cup his face. They couldn’t hear the wolf-whistles from the Weasley Twins (well, Y/N didn’t but Oliver did and instantly knew they were going to be in for a rough next practice). She took a look at his serious face, knowing she wasn’t going to convince him not to teach them a lesson. “Fine, but intimidating stares and empty threats only.” She told him sincerely. 

  “Fine by me.” He agreed, leaning in to press his lips to hers. She blushed furiously, all too aware of people looking at them, but she leaned into the kiss anyway - too desperate for a kiss to care (care enough to stop kissing him, but she knew she would be thinking about people watching once his lips left hers). 

____

  “It is blistering cold out Oliver, my fingers are about to fall off, where are we going?” Y/N questioned, her voice muffled by her scarf. He looked down at her, seeing her eyes securely behind the blindfold, both her hands gripping his arm the best they could with her oversized mittens. 

  “You will see in a minute.” He simply told her, making her huff. 

  “I don’t like surprises, Oliver.” She pouted, wiggling her face free from her scarf in order to show him the pout on her red tinged lips. She had a barely noticeable shade of lipstick on, wearing it specifically since it is her one-year anniversary with Oliver today. They were dressed nicely. Both had a pair of jeans and a warm sweater under their layers of winter wear. 

  “I know, Love, but you will like this one, I promise,” He reassured her, pressing a kiss to her hat-covered temple sweetly. She hummed, resting her head against Oliver’s bicep as he led her towards their destination, following in blindly. Looking down at her more as they slowly walked, he couldn’t help but let warmth bloom in his chest. Something about her snuggling into him as he led her to someplace, allowing him to lead her blindly. The amount of trust this showed she had in him warmed him against the bitter cold they walked in. “Okay, Love, we’re here.” 

  He could barely contain his smile as he gently pried her hands off him, walking behind her to untie the blindfold. “You took me to Greenhouse?” She questioned, eyes scanning the Greenhouse that stood in front of them.

  “Not any Greenhouse,” He exclaimed, carefully shuffling past her as they stood on a patch of ice. He pulled the small bit of cloth that covered the number on the door. Revealing the number one. “Greenhouse One! The Greenhouse I confessed my feelings to you in a year ago to this date. Even down to the hour!” He beamed as he opened the door for her. A blast of heat greeted them as he guided her into the room, a hand on her lower back to make sure she didn’t slip on the ice. 

  Her mouth fell open, looking around in amazement. The plants and tables that usually cluttered the center of the Greenhouse were pushed to the side, leaving space for a blanket and pillows to be laid out on the floor. Floating candles provided a flickering and a glowing amber light - the only light that illuminated the area aside from the winter sun that broke through the dirty windows on the Greenhouse in mini spotlights, dust swirling and dancing in them. 

  Turning around, Oliver closed the door, sealing the heat in the Greenhouse - the heating spell working brilliantly. When he turned around, he found his breath leaving him at the sight before him. She slowly walked further into the Greenhouse, eyes dancing around in amazement as she peeled her winter clothes off, starting with her hat and scarf. The golden rays hit her, illuminating her as if she were a work of art - just like they did a year ago at this time. As she pulled her mittens off, she reached out, touching the plant with the softest, most caring touch. Humming, she let the leaf of the plant go before dropping everything including her coat to the ground. 

  “This is beautiful, Oliver. I love it,” She whispered, looking back at him, eyes meeting his eyes in a zing like jolt, bringing him from his daze. He wanted to say the cliche line of ‘breathtakingly beautiful’ as he looked at her, but he was too taken by her standing there. All he could really do was stride towards her. ““Um, Oliver,” She whispered in a shaky voice as he didn’t say anything back to her, but his eyes were set with intent. “A-are you going to say something-” 

  She was cut off by his lips falling upon hers, his hands resting on her waist. They stumbled slightly from the force of his lips, but his hands gripped onto her waist, steadying them as her hands reached up to cup his cheeks, her lips moving with his in a sweet kiss. All their kisses were sweet. Innocent but rough (that thanks to Oliver’s need to show her how much he loved her). They stood there, lips locked in among the variety of beautifully growing plants, the smell of fresh soil and the fragrant tropical plants in the back corner of the Greenhouse - absorbed each other’s energies like the leaves of a plant absorbing sunlight; warm and energising. 

  “I love you.” He spoke against her lips before connecting their lips together. He was shocked when her hands were pushing his face away from hers, unable to pull herself away from the kiss due to him holding her flush against him, her back arching slightly.

  “I love you too, Oliver. So much.” She confessed to him, her wide eyes staring into his eyes, sparks exploding in her stomach as their eyes whispered heartwarming love between each other. And just like that, they both knew that the tales they would be telling until their last breaths would be tales of the infatuated, but Percy probably already knew that when he told Oliver everything that day.

[thequeenofthewinter]

Work-in-Progress Wednesday

Let's go, Tumblerinas! Winter has some writing, and she is teasing the awful, no good, very bad things that will happen. >:)

I was tagged by the lovely and talented: @dirty-bosmer @throughtrialbyfire (who has already seen this actually :D) @inkysqueed @pitiable-arisen @your-talos-is-problematic @theoneandonlysemla @umbracirrus

I would like to pass the tag to: @oblivions-dawn @vivifriend @skyrim-forever @bostoniangirl21 @sylvienerevarine and anyone else who wants to participate. <3 There is always an open invite for all of you, and sometimes my brain is Swiss cheese and I forget. (And also Tumblr has been buggy with the tags.)

“Care to help me with some of these tent supports?” She asks Ulfric as an all-too-innocent smile tugs its way onto her face.

A chuckle escapes him. “You think I haven’t had pretty girls try that on me already?”

“But never any as pretty as I.”

He takes one of the pieces of wood from her horse’s pack, pointing it towards her. “Of course not, but if you think I am going to put all of this up myself, you are sorely mistaken, my Queen.”

In what is left of the dying light, they manage to put up four tents together, much to Dahlia’s chagrin. Setting up shelter was never one of her stronger suits when camping back in the Dovahkiin days with Lydia. Her housecarl normally did that for her—not because she was lazy, but because after the fourth time the ropes let loose and canvas dropped on top of them in the middle of the night, Lydia had learned better than to allow her to help. Her friend’s talents were best used elsewhere.

Wiping the sweat from her brow, Dahlia looks up from the sparking embers coming to life in front of her. Quite soon Ulfric also learned of his wife’s weakness, just as Lydia had done years ago and sent her to start a fire. Now that, she can do just fine. 

Despite the taste of Autumn on the back of her tongue, drying leaves and cinnamon-spiced wine, the heat of Summer is still unbearable, refusing yet to yield to the cooling relief of Hearthfire frost. Dahlia continues to watch Ulfric tighten the last ropes on the support stakes he had nailed into the ground. At first, they slipped from the softness of the soft earth, the muddy ground weak from recent rains. All the more reason for her to curse the season, and all the more reason to look forward to the next one—one she wishes would never end. But all things must go in their time and all seasons must change, giving way like the colors of the leaves to from green to red.

She shivers. There is but one season unending, however, and it draws near.

[skullhorn59]

Clouded Sensations 2

A/N: my first Hazbin Hotel Fanfic! heres chapter 2, for all of Moth-hungry Tumblr! :3 if you wanna request anything, go for it! Tags are going to get added progressively! this chapter is an introduction to Y/N's life! Some Angst, but no smut yet. :P

Pairings: Valentino x Fem!Reader Legend: ❲☆❳ - flashback, 『♡』 = change of scenes Warnings/Promises: Valentino, Manipulation, Drugs (his smoke/saliva), flirting, alcohol, smoking, Hell being Hell, mentions of traumatic events, self harm/neglect, implied and mentioned self ending

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Minors DNI 🚨🚔

"so, tell me about yourself, amorcito.~ what's got you down here?" The Moth Demon regards you with a curios gaze, and his smile gains a hint of something hungry.

You think back; how did you get here? 

❲☆❳

Your life was rather unspectacular - you never achieved anything great, only ever strifed to find your personal happiness. (greedy, sure, but what else were you supposed to do?) although you tried your best, it always seemed like there was none reserved for you. the night you died wasnt much better - you just couldnt take it anymore. the next time you woke up, you were confused at first. 

where the actual fuck were you?? was this a dream? are you in a coma and this is conjured up by your brain? theres only one way to find out, as much of a cliché as that may be. so you pinched yourself, which followed a quick, sharp pain, making you wince. okay, so this was real. in the clarity of the pain you stood up, first examining yourself. aside from ripped clothes and lots of dirt, not really much seems to have changed.

well - except the claws, and that big ass white tail you had. following a quiet suspicion, your arms shot up, and you felt around your head. and your suspicion proved itself right - your fingers touched sensitive, white ears atop your head. feeling your face next, you find no major changes, except a bit of a pointier, wetter nose. based on that, you could only guess what you represented. a fox? a cat? both? something entirely different?

You shake your head - those thoughts had to wait. so you looked around you, trying to see if you can figure out where you were. from the looks of it - you were in a city. all around you rather tall buildings, the streets were sprinkled with burning cars, burning creatures, fire in general, blood, demons murdering... wait. demons?! you quickly hide in the next best dark alley, keeping yourself hidden as best as you could, while you observed your surroundings. and as your eyes met with the red sky decorated by a huge pentagram, you sighed. this gotta be a joke, right? like, seriously? Hell?

either this was a crazy expensive show, or actual hell. and judging by the creatures all around here, they seemed too casual and too murdery to be anything else than real, since you could literally watch one of them getting brutally murdered right then and there on the open street. you shuddered; yeah, no way you wanted to be part of any of that. this has had to be hell.

first things first, you looked deeper into that dark alley you were hiding in, and considered your options. you could 1, lie in that alley for days and cry your soul out in hopes that anyone might have pity with you and grant you shelter, or 2, get a grip for once and get yourself in a stable situation. undead sinner or not, you didnt want to find out if you could die from starvation or not, so you chose the second option. so, you had to get out of here and somewhere safe.

examining the alley, you found nothing besides blood, trash and muddy puddles. you scrunched your face at the latter, because you knew you couldnt stay as white as you were now. you have had to dye yourself in a darker shade, or be spotted immediately and murdered on the spot. and you were, ironically, dead-set on not dying. so, following the most logical option, you began covering your ears, hair and tail in mud.

logic. yes. it was gonna keep you alive, if everything else failed.

logic, and your instincts. 

『♡』

after what felt like an eternity of hiding, and sneaking around, you found an abandoned apartment, and immediately made it yours. barricading the door, you tidied the thing up as best as you could, shoving and pulling broken furniture into a corner, and wiping the most important surfaces and items clean. you closed the ripped courtains, falling into the bed exhaustedly. "tomorrow," you thought to yourself while drifting off to sleep, "im gonna look for a job."

after you woke up from a dreamless slumber, you went into the bathroom, examining your appearance in the mirror. Fuck, you looked terrible. it was about time you fixed that. so you tidied up your ruffled hair, washing the mud off of where your skin was exposed. although you did keep the mud in your hair, tail and ears. no way you were risking your life just to look good. when you were satisfied with how you looked, you sat back down on the bed, with the sewing set you found, in one of the closets, the previous night. while fixing up your ripped clothing, you thoughts went to the task before you - finding a decent job. assuming it was much more violent down here than up on earth, you defintely wanted a safe job, something similar to shopkeeper, cashier or bartender.

stashing the kit away, you went outside, immediately trying to act as if you were a regular resident and not embarassingly new to Hell, calmly heading down the street while glancing into shops and bars, even stepping into some clubs, just to take a look. none were looking all too comfortable to work in, let alone the staff even friendly enough to even ask them for a job. while a cashier growled at you, a butcher even threw a knife near you, yelling at you to piss off. ears flat to the head, you quickly retreated, continuing your search.

luckily, as you entered one of the more grand looking clubs, it didn't look too bad. sure, it was hell, so of course it was bad, but not bad enough for you to keep looking. and so, you approached the bar, hopeful for success. and, fortunately, the bartender didnt dismiss you right away. he just waved you to the backdoor, redirecting you to his manager. so, with a pounding heart, you carefully slipped through the door.

mentioned manager wasnt very nice, treating you more a whore than a person, but you didnt mind too much. better have a job than pride. only barely able to convince him, you managed to get yourself a job as bartender. polite as you are, you thanked him before leaving, barely able to hold back a giddy smile. stretching yourself as you stood outside the club, you thought about what to do next. time was on your side now - you just had to find a reliable source of food, you mused.

in your head, you made out a plan to cover your white features in mud everytime after showering, and spraying perfume overtop so you wouldnt smell too bad. so you began to stroll along the streets again, until you found the source you needed. returning to your makeshift home, you spent some time showering thoroughly, and went to sleep after.

soon enough, - still not soon enough for your taste - you found into a rythm. nearly every day - if you could even call it "day" with the non-existent day-night cycle in hell- you woke up, got yourself dressed and ready, checked the fridge for any remaining food, headed out while dodging dangerous scenes of arson, murder and/or sex, worked at that okay-paying club, afterwards went scavenging for food, then headed back home, slept, and repeated that cycle the next morning.

you didnt have the time for hobbies, friends, let alone lovers. work and the hunt for food kept you plenty occupied. and you didn't need anything else either, considering the bar was a source of information and entertainment. through listening and looking, you quickly figured out how things worked. someone named Valentino owned this club among many more, and based on the things you heard about him, you were definitely gonna avoid him. at least, that's what you told yourself, until you found yourself in his grasp. 

❲☆❳

Valentino interrupts your thoughts by placing his hand on yours. "Hello? anybody in there?" he sounds a bit annoyed. shit, did you already piss him off? you flash a quick smile at him, before answering. "sorry, got lost in thoughts for a moment. I dont really know what's got me down here. maybe the fact I ended myself? is that even a valid sin?" he raises his eyebrow at that, taking a drag of the cigarette he holds on one of his lower arms, before he leans in, blowing a cloud of red smoke in your direction. "how interesting. tell me, baby doll, are you interested in a better job~? I can make so much more out of you than a simple Barkeeper." you swallow hard, swirling the alcohol around in your glass as you try your best to casually not breathe in the smoke. is he gonna kill you if you deny?

A/N: i made a doodle of Y/N!! be sure to check it out :D

─❲♡❳▷Hazbin Masterlist ─❲♡❳▷Main List

Taglist: @diffidentphantom @helreyy @alastorthirsty

[male-fanfics-for-days]

Brought to you by the future

Rdr2 x Reader 

A/n: This is just a snip-it of a story idea I had bc I’ve recently gotten back into rdr2 and wanted to write something about it. If this gets a lot of attention I’ll see about writing more, for now I’m just writing this to get it out of my brain. I didn’t know if I wanted it to be Arthur x Reader (not sure about gender either but def not female) but he’s the only character here so, thats what Imma put in the tags lol also this is kinda not great, just sort of rambling, but like i said if people like it i’ll fix it up a little  

Arthur Morgan has met a great many people in his life, especially in the recent year. After the failed Blackwater heist, every person he’s met after has been their own sort of strange.

Take this lady by the pond for example. 

Arthur was back in the grizzlies East by O'creagh Run, the place where Hosea had taken him to hunt that big bear a while back. He was back there to not only get some drawings of the area (he hadn’t had the time before to do so), but he also just needed a break from camp. 

He loved his gang dearly, something he was never ashamed to admit, but even families can get on your nerves sometimes. A few words past here and there, favors pulled in without any reciprocation or reward for his work, and overall just some bad luck in small ways (tripping over someones things thrown on the ground, taking on their chore cause they won’t do it). 

Yes, Hosea and him almost died to a bear in the area but it was dead now and Arthur did sure like the scenery. 

He was a little on the warm side so he decided to take a break in the water, rolling up his pant legs and wading into the pond. He splashed some water on his face, closing his eyes and breathing in the air. 

Until he got scared shit-less by some lady standing at the edge of the water near his stuff.

He’s not proud of it but he did jump, surprised by the woman's sudden appearance. She smiled at him from the grass, hands behind her back as if she were simply watching nature at its finest.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself.” She called out to him, not losing the smile on her face. 

Arthur calmed himself and nodded kindly, a little awkwardly as well.

“Sure. Suns out and heat got to me so... you know.”

“Indeed. All creatures love a good water bath in hot weather.”

Arthur tried his best to subtly take her in, but the way her eyes were unblinking and her smile ever present left him to believe that she knew he was looking, and clearly was unphased.

She was far from old and withered but clearly not in her prime. Her hair was a sun-bleached blonde placed in a messy side braid, skin a creamy color with darker freckles from cheek to cheek. Even from where he stood Arthur could see her light colored eyes, the green shown vibrantly against the blue light from the water. She wore a simple white dress and nothing else, no bodice or shoes or any accessories to be seen. Despite not wearing any shoes her feet were as clean as anything, even though she stood on the muddy shore of the pond.

Overall? She looked kind of like a woman you would find in those paintings of nature, as if she belonged there.

“Curious,” She speaks, though not directly at him. “To want this world, this life.”

“Pardon?” Arthur questions, only getting a little closer to hear the woman better, but she only continues to smile and wave him off.

“I’m only thinking aloud, sir, nothing too important to you. There is something I’d like to ask you though, if you’d be so kind as to lend your ear?”

If he was honest, the way she spoke was too proper to be just some farm girl, but she didn’t hold herself like a nobility either. Even if she were a noble, Arthur couldn’t think why a noble lady would be all the way out in the woods anyway, hardly any place for a luxurious vacation.

“Uhm... sure?”

Arthur slowly walked closer, not really knowing if he should be cautious or not of this woman, especially considering she was standing right next to his discarded gun belt. 

He stops about 2 or 3 feet in front of her, his brows creasing as she giggles into her hand, her smile still wide on her face.

“My my, you really are a deer.” She sighs. “I’m no prey to you, deer, you need not fear me.”

“Right.” Arthur pronounces, unsure of where this conversation was going. 

The woman turns on her heels, stepping over his things while walking in the tree line. Upon noticing Arthur not following, she turns back, a smile still on her face (Arthur wondered for a moment if her cheeks were aching at all).

“Come along then, deer. Better to speak within the trees walls.”

She then continued on into the forested area, Arthur finally walking up the bank and taking his gun belt and putting it on. As he gathered his things, and once finished, he thought for a moment if he was really about to follow some strange woman into the woods, alone, with no one around. Not even his horse stuck around, taking to grazing and feasting on the fresh grass around the area.

Now, Arthur will admit to not being an entirely smart man. The lessons and teachings he got were from outlaws who took him in, but they did teach him about survival. Was it wise to follow a stranger into the woods without any inkling of what they wanted? No, but damn did it make him curious. 

He knew about what happened to the curious cat, but seeing as how he had lived this long with his level of curiosity, he wagered he would be fine. Even still, he held a hand close to his gun should he need it.

He followed her path into the woods, she was nice enough to stop a few paces and wait for him. Once she saw him she turned and walked further in, only stopping once they were encased in a sea of trees.

She turned to him, the smile on her face slowly becoming unsettling (only because of how long she had been holding it) while she spoke to him.

“Curiosity is often a trait among those who long for something. I was curious once too, you know.”

“Of what?” Arthur asks, looping his thumbs through his belt as he speaks.

“Nature, of course. Of how it works, why it worked the way it did, who made it work. Then, my curiosity was sated, and I became free.”

Arthur slowly nods, squinting his eyes and pretending to understand.

“You are curious too, sir. I can see it.” She nods, as if confirming it to someone else who wasn’t there. 

“I’m curious?” Arthur echoes back.

“Of the future.” She explains. “You long to know what will become of the world in the future, what will become of you. You are not alone in this curiosity, that I can assure you. I can help you sate your curiosity, if you will allow me to.”

Still trying to make sense of all that was happening, Arthur frowns his brows her way.

“How would you do that?”

“Someone in the future calls to the past.” She closes her eyes, putting her hands together in that of a prayer. “They chant into the universe of their want, their curiosity for this life.” She opens her eyes.

“For you.”

“For me?” He echoes again, his voice now dripping in disbelief. 

“For you,” She confirms. “They wish to meet you, curious of your life outside of what they can see of it. You are being watched, as we all are, by the universe that surrounds us. They want to shift into this plane of existence to escape their own, to sate their curiosity. It just so happens that you are wanting to look into the future, while they look into the past. Allow me to sate both curious creatures, to bring past to future and future to past, to allow you both to live in an equal present.”

‘Alright,’ Arthur thought to himself. ‘She's crazy.’

He couldn’t wrap his head around what she was talking about. Someone in the future wants to come to the past? Meaning the future already is happening? And to him specifically? And what about his curiosity of the future. Isn’t everyone wondering what the next day will bring? Who they will be in the years to come, what the world would look like? He could hardly be the only one wanting to know what the future entails.

She must be talking nonsense, just some lady who lived away from society for too long and went a little wacky.

“Uh, well, that’s a kind offer, really but uhm-”

“This will live with you, you know.” She cuts in. “This curiosity will eat away at you until the day the air leaves your lungs, and by the end you will have wished you had done something to cure it. I’m giving you that chance now. A little peace of mind, brought to you by the future.” 

Arthur sighs, running a hand over his mouth and looking around where they were. He didn’t think she was scamming him, Arthur liked to believe he could tell if someone was trying to scam him. She seemed like she really believes what she is talking about.

Part of Arthur just told him to leave, leave this weird woman to whatever she was speaking about and continue on with his life. This part was fighting a battle with the other half of him... who was curious. Surely it couldn’t hurt to hear her out, he’s already followed her into the forest and let her speak her weird speech. He’d already fed into his curiosity by talking to her, it couldn’t be worse to hear her out.

“How would you go about... ‘sating’ my curiosity.”

“All you would have to do is answer their call.” She smiles (the smile having not left her face). “Chant back to them through the universe, and you will get your answer.”

“I just... chant.” Arthur raises a brow, getting more skeptical as all she does is nod. “And what is it that I chant?”

“Allow yourself to think of what you really, truly want from the future. Reach your mind and soul out into the universe and ask your question, chant your wish. And if you feel new words reach your mind, words of a wish to be in the here and now, welcome them in. Allow then to get here as you guide them.”

Arthur once again sighs, but he has already come so far with this woman. It was as if he were speaking to some religious person (maybe she was), and she was asking him to reach out to god. Maybe it was like that, like a prayer, not that Arthur has ever done much of that before.

“Here,” She says, kneeling on the ground and sitting on her heels in the grass, raising her hands up to him in an offering, still smiling away. “I can help you start.”

With one more look around the forest they were in, Arthur sighs and shrugs, hits his hands on his thighs before going to his knees as well, taking her hands gently. 

Her hands were smooth, soft, and warm. Not a single callus on her hands from work (or crime), and it gave him pause. Maybe this woman was just naive. She said she was curious about nature, and here she was. Barefoot in the woods with nothing but a simple white dress. 

Arthur really didn’t have much to believe in, not a religious sort himself, but he knew it could bring comfort to those who wanted it. Maybe, just maybe, he could get at least one question answered.

“Close your eyes,” She instructs, her own eyes closing. Arthur took a moment before doing the same. 

“Now, think of yourself in an empty room. A room with no doors, no windows. Just an empty, white room. Do you see it?”

It takes Arthur a few deep breaths and some thinking, but his mind eventually goes clear and he sees himself in an empty white room, kneeling on the ground.

“Yeah?”

“Now think, think about what makes you curious about the future. What do you really want out of the future? Do you want to be there, do you want it with you, or do you simply want some answers?”

While in this white room in his head, he thinks over what she said. 

What does he want from the future?

He wants his family to finally be safe, not having to run from anything anymore. 

He wants the world to be easy on him, to not take so many things from him like loved ones or love itself.

He wants the world to slow down, even for just a moment, for him to take a breath while time slows.

He wants to know what will become of the land that was once wild and untamed, wants to know if it will still be free or if it will be shackled and broken in like the wild horse it was.

He wants the future to give him answers, in whatever form that wants to come in.

“Have you got it?” She asks gently.

“I... think so.” He replied just as lowly.

“Now chant your wish, your questions, your curiosities, and reach. Reach for the answer.”

Arthur repeats the wants he has, the questions he has, and continues to imagine himself in that blank room. And for a while nothing changed, he chanted and reached but no answer came. It was only when he went to give up that new words formed in his head.

“I want to be there. I don’t fear the consequences of leaving for a new reality. I want to walk the world as they do, feel what they do, see what they do. I want to be there.”

“I... think I'm hearing something.”

“The answer, guide them to your empty room, open your door for them.”

Arthur then began to imagine a door in this empty white room, a simple wooden door with just a handle, no lock. Then he thought about that door opening, and he thought back to the words in his head.

“Walk the world I live, feel the world I feel, see the world I see. Give me my answers and I will give you yours.”

Then, through the door, came the silhouette of a person. They walked slowly through the door and Arthur stood.

“there’s.. a person.” He says out loud.

“Greet them.” She replies.

So, standing in the white room of his mind he walks just as slowly towards them. The shape shifts from tall to small, skinny to heavy, long hair to short hair, white hair to black hair. Everything about them shifts between all these different forms, as if they were choosing what to look like, who to be.

Arthur and the figure now stood in front of one another, their form still blurred and shifting, but then seemed... excited. Even though their face was blurred and Arthur could barely tell who or what he was looking at, he could just tell they were smiling, a wave of happiness coming from them as they tilt their head at him.

Arthur was told to greet them, so he offered his hand to them to shake. But they did not just take his hand, instead they took both his hands in theirs. A strange feeling then passed through Arthurs hands to his arms, then from there all over his body like a full body shiver. But he wasn’t cold.

It wasn’t an entirely pleasant feeling, but it didn’t hurt. It was that prickly feeling you get after laying on a limb too long, but not as intense. 

It traveled through his body, then back down his arms to his hands. And once it reached his hands, a subtle light traveled up the other beings hands, arms, then over their body. 

As it did so, the light revealed what the person looked like. No longer was their skin changing colors, now a single color that stayed. Their hair, their height, body, everything about them finally stopped shifting. Now Arthur could see who they truly were.

Their eyes were closed, however, so Arthur tapped their hands with his thumbs. When their eyes opened, he felt his own eyes open too.

Now, no longer in his head, he was kneeling in the same forest as before. But he wasn’t holding hands with the cream skinned woman anymore. Instead, kneeling as well and holding his hands in replacement of the woman, was the person he saw in his head, but now they were in the flesh.

They looked back at him with just as much shock as he looked at them, seemingly just as surprised at seeing Arthur in person. 

They spoke. 

“Holy shit... it worked!”

[cassieuncaged]

WIP Wednesday on a Monday

Hey everyone! So I’m officially back from my hiatus and decided to start a WIP tag chain early since I’ve got some new/different things I’m working on (including old stories I’ve neglected for more than year). Anyways, my current focus is on Baldur’s Gate, Fallout 4, Far Cry 4, and Mortal Kombat.

Also, thanks for the tag, @bardic-inspo , to share some of my writing 🤗

No pressure tags: @emotionalcadaver, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @captastra, @firstaidspray, @snowyarts, @reriart, @elfinbloodbag, @euryalex @adelaidedrubman, @chadillacboseman, @inafieldofdaisies, @carlosoliveiraa, @spacestephh, @galaxycunt, @unholymilf, @quantum-lover, @voidika, @illiana-mystery, @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky and anyone else who wants to share writing, drawing etc. If it’s not your thing please ignore, but I wanted to go on a tagging spree since I’ve finally returned to this hellsite! Honestly really excited to see what everyone is working on :)

King of War - Chapter 2 (Pagan Min x OC)

TW: dictators, mentions of war, non-explicit injuries, language, etc.

Her head throbs as eyes slowly open, the blur of the vibrant world quickly coming into view. A flamboyant man sits across from her, picking at food she doesn’t recognize. Though the stranger in his teal suit isn’t what captivates her. No, it’s the panoramic view of the Himalayas, seemingly stretching to the ends of the planet from wherever they’re nestled.

“Good!” a booming baritone startles her, heavily accented as the man addresses her. Meg knows all too well who he is but hopes that it’s an intricate illusion or this whole ordeal is a dream. “You’re awake.”

“Barely,” she’s groggy, trying to ignore the pain radiating at the back of her skull and reaching for the knife kept holstered in her boots. Instead, he eyes widen to saucers as she realizes that her clothing has been changed as she sports a silk cheongsam dress with matching shoes. She nods bitterly. “You’ve taken my things.”

“Sorry,” he examines his finger nails before meeting her gaze, “I don’t like the idea of my guests being armed.”

“What decent dictator would?” she forces out a dark chuckle, hoping he’ll bury a bullet in her brain and end this nightmare. Instead, a brow arches quizzically.”

“King,” Pagan corrects her tersely, “It’ll do you well to remember that, Meg.”

“How do-”

“Please,” he laughs deeply, genuinely entertained by her confusion, “One of the biggest tech innovators from Silicon Valley disappears and just happens to reappear in my country. You think I wouldn’t know who you were?”

“What do you want?” she spits with all the vitriol she can muster, feeling the tension of sore muscles in her face. Nothing is said as he steeples his hands, mouth splitting into a mischievous grin, but he doesn’t need to say it because she already knows.

Everything.

Exploration - Chapter 1 of 2 (Astarion x OC)

TW: slightly suggestive, allusions to past trauma, dissociation, language, etc.

Memories were complicated, often tainting how one viewed many facets of present life.

At least that was how Astarion regarded his own. Two hundred years had soured his outlook on many things as life was slowly reclaimed. Autonomy, individuality, sex. All were concepts he’d attempted to relearn in the months after the brain fell yet struggled with greatly.

He was grateful to not navigate the unknowns alone, his sorceress lover still firmly planted by his side. Ilwyn was understanding in many ways others wouldn’t be, a flower emerging from the muddiness of her own past trauma. Not to mention how young she was for an elf, still learning many things about herself.

“I’ll be right here, my sweet star.”

She’d cooed into his ear one night after a particularly bad nightmare had destroyed his trance. Her body was warm, the scent of honeysuckle permeating her skin and bed clothes after a soothing bath. No one had ever held him like that, soothing and sweet until his rigid body began to relax against her. To be loved was to be seen, or so he had learned.

Wynnie was endlessly patient and understanding, allowing him to make choices for himself and to allow space when it was needed. Sometimes, the vampire spawn needed to clear his head, to feel the cool kiss of night tickle his cheeks and tousle his curls. If blood still pulsed beneath his skin. He was positive he’d be red as the fruit of a sun melon. How their innocent touches quickly became heated, motions filled with unbridled passion. How he felt himself drift away as Ilwyn lay spread out in nothing but slinky small clothes, her hand drifting to his breeches…

He deigned to be filled thoughts of his lover, to drown in her visage for hours, molding her body against in his own in a passionate exchange, kissing and licking and nipping. Yet, the young elf carefully rolled them over so he lay with his back upon the down feathered mattress. Dismounting herself, Wynnie rubbed firm circles into a broad shoulder as Astarion’s ashen brows knit in confusion.

They were together, melding into one another so naturally and deliciously. Yet allowing ruby eyes to shutter once had transported him into the hallows of the Szarr palace, stretched across crushed satin as sure lips collided with curve of a stranger’s neck. A blonde woman, a man with bronzed skin, it never mattered who was shared that damned bed.

Sex was a means to an end. Always.

Ghoulish Intentions - Chapter 1 (John Hancock x OC)

TW: none! (other than radiation i suppose!)

A gnarled arm stretches across the mattress as the ghoul wakes. Sunlight spills into the room, Daphne’s room. Though Hancock is shocked to find she isn’t plastered to his side, likely having awoken early to tend to mutfruit and tato sapling’s. Sanctuary is teeming with residents now, cul-de-sac walled in like a cookie cutter Goodneighbor. Yet, she enjoys playing her part in all sanctions of the town: agriculture, defense, even entrepreneurship.

But he’s happy that his mayoral duties are paused momentarily, enjoying life after the Institute’s fall. Besides, he rather likes watching his other half scuttle about under the sun that gently freckles soft skin beneath the fumes of radiation that never completely dissipate. Then he hears the rattle of an old storm door, booted feet clomping forward as he begins to dress.

“Hey, handsome.” Blonde hair hidden by the trifold hat that matches his own, Daphne rests her head against the doorjamb. “Nick’s back with a new job. Sounds like we’ve got a job playing detective again.”

“Taking names and kicking some ass involved?” he rasps out a chuckle, enjoying how the loving gaze that falls upon him like a spotlight.

“Likely, at least with Piper and Cait tagging along with us and the gumshoe.” She stifles a yawn, adjusting her general’s garb.

“Well how and the hell could I say no to that?” a grin spreads across his scarred face, inky eyes sparkling beneath dawn’s light. “When do we leave?”

Uneasy Alliance - Chapter 3 (Cassie Cage x OC)

TW: rampant sexual tension, language, etc.

“A truce?” Lavender eyes are unblinking, sharp jaw set hard as steel. “What the hell are talking about?”

Blue eyes rolled dramatically as Commander Cage strode into the meager set up. Her mouth, however, was shut for the longest amount of time since they’d met. Of course, when the turncoat actually wanted to hear the proposition. Instead, the blonde turned gracefully on the toe of her boot, not unlike a ballerina.

Under the right circumstances, Nyx could even imagine herself slipping her a phone number hastily scrawled across a sticky note. Right now, she had to resist the urge to cave Cassie’s skull in.

“Nice place you got here,” a quick nod of her head sent those pink aviators gracefully falling upon that round little nose, “Suppose you’ll be plastering some Echo and the Bunnymen posters up while you watch Eraserhead.”

“What’s your dorm look like, Barbie? Bubblegum pink with a closet full of Betsey Johnson rejects?” Nyx shot back without missing a beat, enjoying how Cage junior was bristling beneath the quick retort. It was clearly a long time since she’d had someone to engage in verbal sparring.

“Point taken,” Cassie grits, arms crossed tightly across her uniform. “You want to hear what I’ve got up my sleeve or not.”

Mirroring her stance, the pallid woman responded with a sharp:

“I’m listening.”

[outpost51]

The 51 Post

so. bad week, if the prolonged absence wasn’t enough of a clue. but! i did write a... moderate amount. listen, i've been coping with sims.

Contents:

Things You Might Have Missed

This Week's Jams

WIP Breakdowns

From the Skwad

Around the 'Blr

Things You Might Have Missed

get on my taglists for WIP updates, 51 post, tag games, and ask events!

BRHP: Chapter 17 posted; K A DM O S.

Unlikely Adventures, Ch 2 posted; it’s literally in the blurb but it hurt me to write too

BRHP: Chapter 16 posted; baby's first fight pit, and a family secret is revealed.

Murky Water: the 7th entry into the Lighthouse in the Fog shorts; our new Keeper finds her answers.

This Week's Jams

aliens (porcelain remix) || xylø, porcelain [spotify/youtube]

avoidant attachment || libby larkin [spotify/youtube]

fire fire || flyleaf [spotify/youtube]

no care || daughter [spotify/youtube]

let the flames begin || paramore [spotify/youtube]

devil’s teeth || muddy magnolias [spotify/youtube]

WIP Breakdowns

Between a Rock and a Hard Place

hngggg i am. behind. it’s all outlined but my god i was too tired to write much

Unlikely Adventures of Bitchface and Go F*ck Yourself

[affectionately strangles zadimus]

Blinding Neon, Shades of Grey

[vibrates] hhhhhh i love the orville scene, i forgot how much i love the orville scene, yes i will post the orville scene this week if yall bully me (pls)

Stellar Parallax

elmorise.gif

Lighthouse in the Fog

8th short will be coming out some time tonight or tomorrow, it’s been an uphill battle to write today, anyway things have Developed in a Direction i was not Expecting

In the Works

i have noodled some of those random shuffle prompts. some of you are getting whacked with the emotions stick

From the Skwad

SSSC 006 wrapped up! see the entries here.

@thetrashbagswasteland posted a little too good to be true, a follow up to a little too much like me as their submission for MEBB 2023 and it is rife with snark

speaking of MEBB, @sparatus also published his triumphant return to His Original Bullshit: serpents in the garden and i am living. he also wrote skewed results for FFF208 bc we all need more teia

@uraniumwriting also wrote a submission for FFF208 in which caspian is forced to be a reporter for a day

we have FIVE updates from @teamdilf this week: a sweet piece in which adrien is offered some kittens, ch 20 of in-laws and the grandparents, this drabble that actually ripped my soul out through my eyes, ch 16 of man of many talents, and the first chapter of father, daughter, rocket launchers, and a side of wrex

@bambino1294 dropped the second chapter of upright tower and it was well worth the wait

@equusgirl has given us two more treats for sapphic summer: heaven or hell and if the bird likes it's cage so very much, why is the cage so tightly shut

@commander-krios wrote this squee-worthy despina/theron piece and also this stolen moment between jeff and john

@writernopal wrote a character study with mariel and sartor that i’m still thinking about actually, it’s wild to see how much the characters have developed between the first and third books

@asher-orion-writes posted another installment of fairweather YAY hhhhhh i fucked up and peeked at the last few lines before i read it and now i’m trying to wrap up so i can go eat it

Around the ‘Blr

@tabswrites blessed us with both the second chapter of ascension and chapter 4 of silver sentinels!!!

@vacantgodling’s art comms are open which i will be taking a look at given it does not fall through the holes in my swiss cheese brain, he dropped toph art that i’m OBSESSED with AND a lukewarm rejection sneep bc toph’s bday was the 7th. tell him happy birthday 4 me

bit over a week but i missed it last week — @autumnalwalker announced that the archivist’s journal is COMPLETE, so if you were ever looking for a reason to binge it, now’s the time (the anniversary is july 16th!). find it here @thearchivistsjournal

@captain-kraken dropped a sonhara lore masterpost oh my GOD

screaming crying frothing at the mouth over @liv-is’s fae headshots WOW

@void-botanist gave us the LORE on the revalo tailory & hotel and i will chew off my arm if tumblr doesn’t start giving me gd notifs about this

@artdecosupernova-writing dropped SO MANY shorts this week, so here’s the tag, go nuts; also a post on the planet holeph that i am eating with a spoon

we now have such amazing faces to put with the cast of @elshells’s agent ace (courtesy of @illjustpretend)

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Outpost Updates Taglist: @tabswrites @writernopal @freedominique @asher-orion-writes @liv-is @starknstarwars @captain-kraken

Ask to +/- in the tags, replies, DMs, or HERE!

[holyguardian]

PEOPLE I'D LIKE TO GET TO KNOW BETTER !

alias / name : Muddy, real name is Kristy but a lot of people from my work place(s) (it happened at two places) call me Krissie due to hearing whoopsies in aged care (now I'm oddly attached to my wrong name bc only the people I get really attached to end up calling me that??) birthday : May 20 BC zodiac sign : Taurus height : 165cm hobbies : Creative writing, cooking, playing videogames, consuming spookums horror media or occasionally true crime, listening to podcasts like Distractable, watching youtube (Ask A Mortician, Charlotte Dobre, Gab Smolders and Watcher are a few faves), trying to get more into gardening / learning artwork. favourite colour : My answer usually changes, at the moment deep greens! favourite book : Obv a cookbook RecipeTin Eats: Dinner by Nagi Maehashi but also a recent fave is Episode 13 by Craig DiLouie last film / show : I watched Damsel on Netflix and it was the right amount of easy watch and trashy to switch my brain off for a bit, and a dear friend asked about watching their fave anime which we finished today (I forgot the name, I'm plagued with horrid memory but they did all the streaming) recent reads : Astrophysics for People in a Hurry by Neil deGrasse Tyson (still reading) inspiration : If I consume a piece of media there's a good chance I'm going to chew it up and spit it back out with my own ideas. My close friends are a massive inspiration too, whatever brain gremlins they have usually end up infecting me. Also the mood setting stuff, like listening to certain music can set the tone for what I'll feel like writing later, or if I'm hyperfocused on something (eg. at the moment it's nail polish) I'll think about how a certain character might relate to that. I literally painted my nails black with holo glitter because I thought my OC would wear her nails like this. story behind url : Aerith's white materia summons the ultimate white magic, Holy. She's the guardian of the white materia, which she keeps hidden in her hair ribbon. Holy Guardian. I toyed with changing her URL to being oearth because she has such a close tie with the earth being a gardener, and being in tune with the planet, plus if you squint it kind of looks like I jumbled her name around (Ifalna's name is a transliteration of "final" and Aerith's was supposed to be a near-anagram of "earth") BUT I'M TOO ATTACHED TO CHANGE IT. fun fact about me : My blood type is O negative yeehaw.

tagged by: @altrxisme 💖 tagging: @cyberpawn @gcldfanged @hautevaux @kunselxsoldier @lockhartred @noblehcart @oiceheart @reapersxfolly @sacredflorist @soldier-lodbrok

[artdecosupernova-writing]

Last Line(s) Tag

snatching an open tag from @sleepy-night-child (though I'm pretty sure you and some others tagged me legitimately some time ago as well 🤔)✌🏽

tagging @drippingmoon, @pertinax--loculos, @space-writes, @celemee, and anyone who'd like to participate under no pressure or obligation ✨

here's a big ol' chonk from Shadow Tamer, a snippet I think is part of the actual canon but I'm not sure lol. let's pretend I know what I'm doing.

"Shit, Warner…" Gideon grunted, bolting upright and throwing the fleece blanket off of himself. "Take it easy." Blake interrupted Gideon's panic by swinging the caravan door open and ducking inside, a paper coffee cup clutched in his hand. "She called while you were asleep and I told her you were fine." "I've still gotta pick her up from her friend's house," Gideon muttered breathlessly, searching around in a muddy haze for his clothes. He ran a hand through his hair and shook it. "I…don't know what time it is." Blake moved close to Gideon and pressed the back of the hand holding the coffee cup into his chest to steer him back toward the bed. "Relax. I've handled it." Though his voice and tone soothed him around the space Blake's knuckles made contact with his skin, Gideon found the situation called for a bit more urgency than was being portrayed. He conceded, however, and took a seat on the edge of the bed. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I don't think my daughter would appreciate being chauffeured around by a bunch of ghosts. Or, worse, clowns." To his surprise, Blake frowned on his way to sipping his coffee. He slipped his other hand into his pocket. "...What kind of racket do you think I run here?" Gideon took another quick, pointed glance around the caravan, face contorting into incredulity. "A circus…the main attraction of which is your several years dead wife?" Blake grinned around the rim of his cup. "Warner's with her aunt." Gideon allowed that to process in his brain before sighing deeply. "Yeah, that's…thank you."

[vergess]

Thank you for commenting on the math poll bc I kept getting 27 and it was annoying the hell out of my psychosis

Yeah, no worries! Those math posts really tickle my psychosis too, so I try to work them out in detail when I run into them.

Something about everyone getting completely different answers to a math problem just makes my brain flip out. Nothing sets off the unreality alarms quite like it haha

Actually, the fact that it happens to both of us raises another question for me:

Do you think it would be worth tagging those math fights with 'unreality', or do you think it would muddy the waters?

[slightlyaboveaverageiq]

A Black Rose Among Sunflowers (Part 2)

A/N: Minors DNI, PTSD, mentions of CSA, mentions of PA, mentions of domestic violence (both romantic and sibling related), emotional abuse (I guess, basically sisters using trauma to be mean in an argument), use of the word daddy (Mainly joking, internally though definitely sexual), I forgot to include agegap in my last A/N so age gap (reader is 27, and I'm going to age Spencer appropriately so he'd be 44). I think that's it if there's something you feel I should have tagged but didn't please reach out.

Word Count: 2.4k words

Playlist: Eyes don't lie, Older, I'm yours, favorite (All by Isabel Larosa)

Part 1 here:

I wasn’t sure how long I stayed in the shower watching as the water turned a gross muddy brown staining the white tile of the shower floor as it made its way down the drain. I couldn't help but wonder if I had just been there on time would things have gone the way they had? That was a stupid question. Casey had always had a temper as long as I had known him and here lately it looked like he was just looking for any reason to fly off the handle. Though stupidly I had pulled the whole ‘oh I can fix him, he just needs to be shown love’ adage to my sister when she expressed her concerns last week. I bit my lip as the memory made an unwelcome entrance into the foremost part of my brain.

Trembling, I pushed Gabriella’s doorbell repeatedly hoping to whatever God was out there that she was home even though her car wasn’t in its usual spot in the driveway. The door opened and a set of green eyes looked up at me, her curly red hair covering her face, likely from the ice cream Astoria had snuck past Gabriella who was making dinner from the smell of chicken and dumplings coming out the front door. “Mommy! Aunt Addie is here…and her face is wet!” Oh gee thanks for ratting me out there Astoria. I waited awkwardly at the front door occasionally looking over my shoulder to make sure Casey hadn’t followed me. He might have been stupid but I don't think he was stupid enough to follow me here…well unless he wanted to be looking down the barrel of her shotgun. 

“Adrienne?” Her eyebrows furrowed, she wasn’t expecting me obviously but it was quickly replaced with an icy hatred in her green eyes as she took in the puffy and bruised mess that was also currently serving as my face. She gently tugged me into the house and checked the surrounding area before double locking the door. “Addie this is getting ridiculous he's going to end up killing you.” She whispered as she led me into the kitchen and poured some water into the electric kettle before placing it on the stove. She sat across from me and took my hands gently in hers and I bit my lip to prevent the tears from overflowing.

“He-He didn't mean to Gabi. He loves me he just...ever since he lost his job it's been hard you know that.” She squeezed my hands so I turned my glassy eyes to look at hers, there was no forgiveness in her eyes, only hatred. Gabriella is usually the softer out of the two of us opting to kill with kindness rather than with a car. But Gabriella had always been stickler for boundaries and if you crossed them even in the slightest she had no problem cutting you off whereas I tended to try to find some amount of good in the person to try and justify keeping them around. Hence she was married to Emmett who thought she was the greatest thing in the universe with their twins Auggie and Astoria and here I was in a 5 year long abusive relationship. 

“Maybe if he got off his ass and looked for a job instead of drinking your money away he wouldn't be nor would he feel inadequate.” Her words were harsh and i bit my cheek at them. This was another point of contention between Casey and I, Gabriella had no issue with telling him exactly how useless he was, and well it's not like she was wrong so I often did not defend him. Leading to more fights with him about how I was letting my sister humiliate and emasculate him.

“Maybe if you didn't stick your nose where it didn't belong Gabriella he wouldn’t be beating the shit out of me.” Her eyes widened and she dropped my hands so I started pacing the kitchen not looking at her and running a finger through my blue tinged waves. “God you tell me I don't know when to shut my mouth but did it ever occur to you that YOU constantly calling him a bitch, pussy and everything else under the sun was making things worse? It's not like he can beat the shit out of you, Emmett would kill him. Me on the other hand he could snap my neck before you even knew I was missing.”

“You can’t seriously be suggesting it's my fault he's beating you Addie! You've had chance after chance to leave and you stay with a man who treats you like dad. I understand you have daddy issues but there's nothing romantic-”

My hand moved faster than my one brain cell and my hand connected with her face. I looked at the red handprint and back to my own hand which was still outstretched as she stared at me wide eyed while her hand came up to the now bruising cheek i had just hit. I didn't know what to say, there was nothing to say, no amount of I’m sorry would undo the damage I had just done to her. Deep down I know she was right she had offered numerous times to let me stay with them but I was scared. Scared Casey would find me, scared the cops wouldn't be able to do anything and he would follow through on his threats. I hadn't talked to her since that day and that had been almost three weeks ago. She had left several messages just begging me to come back, that she understood I acted in the heat of the moment, even Emmett had called but honestly I was too embarrassed to answer. I had become the people I hated just because I was miserable with myself. 

A small shriek came out of my mouth as I registered the water had turned icy. I guess I had been in here longer than I thought because the water was running clear and the feeling of dried blood had been erased from my body. “Adrienne, Adrienne are you okay?” I could hear the slightly panicked voice of Spencer behind the bathroom door and the rattling of the bathroom doorknob. 

“Sorry…Sorry I didn't realize I had been in here so long, the cold water startled me.” I offered weakly and was embarrassed about my reaction. Damn Addie it was just cold water not like there's a serial killer in the bathroom with you. I toweled off quickly and slipped into the sweat pants and t-shirt already feeling better just being clean and in fresh clothes. Spencer was sitting in a large arm chair in the corner of his living room seemingly in deep thought as he rubbed absentmindedly over his chin. I couldn't help but blush taking in his long fingers, yep he's definitely the type of man smutty authors write about. “Um..do we-should we be going or?” My question hung in the air uncomfortably and he startled as if he didnt hear me answer and honestly with how fast the gears in his brain were going it was possible he didn't. He didn't say anything, instead just walked into his kitchen and came back with a cookie tin.

“My friend Penelope made these for me, I don't think she would mind me sharing them given the circumstance.” He offered a small smile and nodded towards the cookie inside. I peaked cautiously and smiled when I saw they were snickerdoodles and then very embarrassingly my stomach roared like a goddamn dragon. Jesus when WAS the last time I ate? I wearily looked at the clock on the wall and almost had a heart attack when I saw it was 4 am, yep I definitely needed something to eat. I at least tried to eat like a somewhat dignified young lady but judging by the amount of crumbs I was getting everywhere and the amused chuckle that left Spencer's mouth I actually probably looked like a raccoon that had found a whole bag of cat food.

“You know just because you have the whole daddy look going on that doesnt mean you can also be a dick.” I froze at my words and I just really wanted to become one with the floor at this moment in time. Thank you very much. He raised an eyebrow and leaned forward in his seat slightly.

“Daddy thing?” Oh yeah my face was most certainly the color of a tomato now and I really, REALLY wanted nothing more than for god to just start the second coming of Christ now so I wasn’t forced to live through this moment. Unfortunately it didn't appear that the rapture would be starting anytime soon and the good doctor definitely was getting a kick out of my embarrassment. 

“Oh shut up you know you're pretty.” I mumbled mostly to myself while reaching for another cookie. He smiled and stood grabbing me water and bringing my shoes in the process. “Oh now you want to go, couldn't have just let not me shove my foot in my mouth could you?” He smirked and grabbed my hand but I quickly snatched it back feeling my face redden even further, Jesus they were going to name a new shade of red after me with how red my face was. “I can walk just fine thank you I have been doing it for 27 years” 

“Well that's not a very good boyfriend then.” He muttered, reaching in front of me and opening the front door and I just stared at the wall in front of me. Was he trying to poke fun at me and make me laugh during a very traumatic time in my life? Yes. Did the implications of that sentence make me an embarrassingly high level of turned on? Also yes. I ducked my head and shuffled my way past him ignoring the soft chuckle he gave as he locked the door behind me.

I waited for him to unlock the door and got in quickly, buckling myself and turning my face and body towards the window so he couldn't see my blushing face. I saw him frown in his reflection in the window and his hand reached out to pat my knee causing me to make an embarrassingly close to a whimper and jump away from his touch like I had been burned. Sir i am trying not to be horny right now and you touching me is most certainly not helping. 

“He’s not going to touch a hair on your head ever again Addie.” He removed his hand from my leg and I watched as his grip on the steering wheel tightened. His voice was perfectly calm but I could see a dangerous glint simmering below the surface, he was pissed off for me and honestly that's one of the hottest things a man can do. Interestingly enough I’ve always hated being called Addie but coming out of Spencer’s mouth I couldn't help the small shiver that came out of me.

“Yeah…I’ve heard that before.” I mumbled and laid my head against the window feeling exhausted. Spencer frowned but didn't say anything and I felt my eyes slipping closed, hey to be fair I've been awake almost 24 hours and my ex boyfriend savagely beat the shit out of me I think I’m allowed to take a nap while the cops look for him. My eyes opened as I felt my body being jostled but instead of someone shaking me awake I was vaguely aware that it was someone scooping me up like I was a small child and carrying me. 

“She fell asleep on the way here, no sense in waking her until we know something. Who knows when the last time she got a decent amount of sleep was.” Well he wasn't wrong. I had been basically surviving off caffeine and dark romance novels for the last year ever since Casey lost his job. I felt myself being laid down and to my great horror my arms wrapped around Spencer tighter. What the hell arms? No. He's letting us go and God only knows what we’re going to dream about and seeing as how I have already embarrassed myself in front of this man enough times for my entire life I would rather he NOT hear any sex dreams we have about him. “Alright come on now Addie I know you can at least subconsciously hear me. You need to sleep.” I felt him quite literally pry my arms off his body and he covered me with a blanket before turning off the lights.

“Can you stay?” I watched him pick up a book and turn one of the lamps on. I turned fully so I could get a look at him and instantly felt guilty for asking him to stay, there was a good chance he had been up as long as if not longer than me and here I was asking him to stay awake even longer like I was a five year old scared of the dark. “Nevermind it's okay, you can go home and go to sleep.”

“I’ll stay until your sister gets here”

“But-”

“Stop being stubborn and go to sleep Adrienne.” Nope, I did not like that one bit. I huffed and rolled over onto my side not wanting to look at him anymore. “Stop pouting you know I’m right you literally fell asleep within five minutes of the car ride.” I pursed my lips wanting to come up with some kind of sassy retort but he was right. I was exhausted and honestly I was struggling to even continue this conversation.

“Oh go fuck yourself.” But it lacked the bite one would normally have behind that insult, also that's the best my brain could come up with? Really? I heard him chuckle and instantly dreaded what was sure to be a sexual innuendo I had to pretend was just harmless jokes but in reality was sure to make my face red.

“Well we both know that's not what you're dreaming about since you mentioned my…what was it? Oh yeah, my daddy thing earlier.” I groaned and glared at him over my shoulder. “You're the one that said it, not me.” Where can you buy a filter for your mouth? Asking for myself because I am getting myself into stupid situations all the time from it. I ignored his retort and pulled the blanket up over my head desperately wishing to fall asleep but also that I wouldn't say anything too embarrassing before Gabriella got here.

[leviackermanscleaningbuddy]

HIIIIII I SAW THE EVENT THING AND BOI AM I EXCITED!! I LOVE THIS IDEA. In case you didn't see my reblog, I'll send you my suggestion here: Add a link to the tag that contains all the answered questions in the masterlist for easy access. You could use the "ask the pack" one. And of course, I'll bombard you with requests cause I'm shameless and I can ❤🌚

First request: What's each member's favorite pheromone scent among the others? Also, what is their favorite body parts of each other?

"You're not allowed to just say genitals." Chan warns immediately. "I'm making that rule now."

Jisung and Jeongin immediately look slightly defeated at the head alpha's stern words.

"Okay. Now. We're gonna try and keep some order on this one. So we're just gonna go around the circle and each pack member can answer both questions when it's their turn."

Minho scoffs. "'Order' and this pack do not go hand in hand. But I appreciate your optimism."

"Go first, Channie." You motion to the head alpha, and Jeongin scoots off Felix's lap to lean his head on your shoulder, his fingers tangling with your own.

"Yeah, hyung. Go first."

"Okay. Hm." Chan blows his breath out past his lips as he thinks, before he tilts his head and regards the waiting pack members, one by one. "My favorite scent is probably honestly Seungmin's, just because it's crisp and clear and kinda sharp? So it reacts really well with my petrichor, and it's helpful to clear my head when I'm feeling a little muddy or worked up."

"As for body parts-I like Minho's nose, which sounds weird, but it's pretty and fits his face really well. I like Jisung's heart shaped smile and Hyunjin's full, pouty lips. I like Felix's freckles and Jeongin's sharp, sloped eyes. I like Seungmin's body proportions and Changbin's pecs and (Y/N)'s waist."

"Shit that was specific." Jisung whistles, and Chan glances at the beta, who merely shrugs. "I was straight up just gonna generically list off body parts. Way to up the bar, hyung."

Chan laughs, and motions for Minho to go next.

"Scent wise? I've said it before and I'll say it again-I prefer Felix."

Felix looks slightly smug-in an angelic, perfectly innocent type of way-and Jisung once again visibly pouts.

Minho smirks knowingly at the agitated beta across the room and quirks a brow, before he continues resolutely, "Jisung's waist is my favorite, because it's literally tiny enough for me to fit my hands around and he's snatched all around."

The beta instantly perks at the compliment, brightening up in an almost 180 degree turn around, preening under the sudden attention.

"Seungmin's harder because I hate him-" Minho jokes dryly, and Seungmin rolls his eyes, but doesn't look offended in the slightest. "But I'd have to say his sexy brain. Sharp wit goes a long way for me, and he can hold his own."

"As far as the rest of you go, well-(Y/N)'s ass is fantastic-and you know I always love a good hind end-Changbin's tiddies are first ranked-Chan has great teeth, which make for a good mating imprint-Hyunjin is slender and he likes to be manhandled, which is a win win for me-Felix's hair is always soft and clean for me to ruffle-and Jeongin has a voracious appetite and eats like it's going out of style, which I take as a compliment to my cooking."

"That was-" Chan looks slightly caught off guard now. "-oddly very wholesome, Min."

"Hey, I can be wholesome." The other alpha shrugs, leaning back into the couch beside Felix.

"My turn." Changbin cracks his knuckles and looks oddly determined. You see why when he begins to rattle off answers at the speed of a freight train. "My favorite scent is Jinnie's, just because we met first and he's who I associate with comfort and familiarity, I guess? I've always admired Chan's broad shoulders, Minho's sharp, angled nose, Jisung's disproportionate full lips, Hyunjin's long legs, Felix's tanned skin, Seungmin's adorable, puppylike expressions, Jeongin's innocent looking facial features, and (Y/N)'s ass."

You laugh. "Wow. Okay. So. Two for my ass then."

Changbin shrugs and Minho shoots him a triumphant wink.

"I'll go." You volunteer, glancing around at the other waiting members of your pack. "Pheromone wise, I like everyone's, honest to god, but Innie's has always been especially potent for me. It's always strong, but in a warm, soft way that's not as quite in your face as the alphas and betas? I dunno, ever since he presented, I've loved how he smells." You think for a minute, before you continue. "As far as body parts-" A wicked smile crosses your lips. "Chan already outlawed my previous answers, so I'll have to come up with some more on the fly."

"Penises." Jisung is nodding, as if he understands, and is mourning the head alpha's rule wholeheartedly.

"Seriously?" Chan groans, exasperated.

"So." You say, forging ahead, shooting him a glance that clearly tells him you've changed your original answer, just to please him. "Here's my actual answers. Channie, I've always loved your strong arms, you give the best hugs. Min's jawline is sharp enough to cut skin and I'd thank him for it any day. Binnie has thighs that could crush my head like a watermelon, but in a way I'd totally be into. Sungie has a tongue that hits all the right places, if you get my drift."

"Oh my god." Chan sighs, looking regretful now from banning genitalia after all and forcing you all to get creative.

Jisung grins like he's just won the lottery.

"Jinnie's hands are freaking gorgeous-long and slender and he always wears rings, which I love-and I honest to god think someone should paint them someday. Lixie's freckles make me think of constellations, and when I need to take a breath, I simply focus on them, drawing lines between all the beautiful dots until I feel like myself again. Minnie makes me laugh like nobody's business, but as far as a body part, I would say his skin, and not in a serial killer way. He just takes really good care of himself and exfoliates and moisturizes religiously and he feels like butter. And the baby-"

You glance at Jeongin and shoot him a wink. He sticks his tongue out in return from beneath Felix's arm.

"Innie's just adorable, I mean, look at him, but if I had to pick, I'd say his stomach, because he's really been working on his abs lately at the gym with Bin, and honestly, I'd eat food off of them at this point."

"Okay next." Chan sighs wearily, and you bite back a grin as you tangle his fingers with yours.

"Me next, me next!" Jisung wiggles excitedly in his seat, and Changbin laughs beside him.

"Okay. Scent wise? Minho-hyung. Even though he doesn't deserve my vote because he didn't pick me." Jisung pouts momentarily, and Minho smirks. "Anyway. Body parts? I have a whole list for each person, but just picking one, I'd say-" He holds up his fingers, ticking them off one by one as he fires out his answers without taking a breath. "Chan-hyung: Nose. Minho-hyung: thighs. Changbin-hyung: tiddies. Hyunjin-Eyelashes. Seungmin-Lips. Felix-hands. Jeongin-biceps. (Y/N)-also tiddies."

"All good answers." Hyunjin is nodding, in agreeance now, and it's probably the first time they've agreed on something in awhile. "I think I agree with all of those, surprisingly."

They high five and Chanbin rolls his eyes with an amused smile on his face. "You still have to say your favorite scent. And what you like about Jisungie then."

"Right. Hm." Hyunjin hums thoughtfully beneath his breath. "My favorite scent is probably (Y/N)'s? Probably just because it goes really well with mine, they mix great, and she was the first one I'd been with outside of Changbin for one of my heats, so it just, stuck with me, I guess? As far as Jisung-" Hyunjin glances to the beta with a wicked grin. "I hate to admit it, but his stupid collar bone does things for me."

"Hah!" Jisung yells, startling Changbin, as he leaps forward and waves a finger in the omega's face. "I knew it! I knew it!"

Seungmin sighs and glances at Changbin over the wrestling duo's head. "I also like Lixie's scent the best. It's calming for me, and I tend to be a little high strung."

"A little?" Jisung mumbles beneath his breath, paying attention now, and swiftly receives a well placed elbow to the side.

"As far as body parts go, I tend to much rather favor personality over looks, but If I have to pick, it'd be as follows-Chan-hyung has great abs, I've always looked up to him. Minho-hyung has an effortlessly pretty face. Changbin-hyung's hands are hot for some weird biological reason, and Hyunjin's neck is the same. Jisung's eyes, are pretty, I guess? All sparkly and shit. Felix's lips are literally perfect, Jeongin's teeth are straight and well cared for, which I appreciate, and (Y/N) has great legs."

"Okay our turn." Jeongin speaks up now, straightening in Felix's hold, who nods him on encouragingly. "Lix-hyung and I have been whispering, and we both like the same things, so I'm just gonna go for both of us."

"Acceptable." Chan nods, waving him on.

"Okay. But our scents are different. So those first." Jeongin clears his throat, as if he's about to give a royal address to the court. "I like Channie-hyung's scent the best."

"And I like Jisungie's scent the best." Felix nods, rubbing his nose against the soft blanket covering him and Jeongin. "It makes my nest smell amazing."

"Okay. Now body parts." Jeongin rubs his hands gleefully, looking like he's ready to throw everything into existential chaos. "Chan-hyung-Abs. Definitely. So hot. Minho-hyung-lips and tongue. Self explanatory. Changbin-hyung-thighs. Because. duh. Hyunjin-hyung-hands, hands, hands. He's an artist. Enough said. Jisung-hyung-calves. Have you seen those bastards? Sculpted for days from the biology building's endless flights of stairs. Seungmin-hyung-wrists. We won't be taking questions at this time. And noona-definitely boobs. Because like. Why not."

You laugh. "Okay. All good answers. Now answer about each other."

"Felix-hyung-" Jeongin turns to his beloved hyung now, giving him a wide, affectionate smile. "Waist. Because it's tiny. And I can loop my fingers around it."

Felix lightly blushes and giggles, nuzzling his nose into the crown of Jeongin's hair fondly. "Cute. Innie-your arms. Because even though you're younger than me, you never fail to make me feel safe."

"Disgusting." Minho comments off handedly from beside the duo, though you see him bite back a smile.