#crispy lure

[thelightthatruins]

You are absolutely insane . @crispycreambacon

[chiiyuuvv]

snacks and blushes ⋆⭒⋆ p. wonbin

𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩.. you accompaniment wonbin with some snacks

could be seen as idol!wonbin x fem!reader 0.2k words

▸ 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺?

The whoosh of the door opening and closing snaps wonbin out of his concentrated stare on his guitar, almost completely discarding it once his eyes landed on you. There you stood in front of him with that ridiculously bright smile on your face, (the type of smile that makes his eyes unconsciously light up whenever you're around) shaking around your bag of goodies with a little happy dance in one hand, while the other carefully sits down two cups of ice tea on a stool for a table.

“I brought some snacks, since I knew you’d be practicing,” you say with that grin he always adored, sitting down on the warm hardwood floor and opening up the bag to reveal all of wonbin’s favorite foods. You look up to find that he was already looking at you, and without any thought you gently grab his hand, luring him down to where you were sitting. You could see the small blush on the boy's cheek as he quietly obeyed, scooting over so he would be facing you, a smile playing on his lips as he opens up one of the wrappers.

It's nice to know that someone cared for you, sitting in this enjoyable silence filled with soft munches of the crispy potato chips you both knew you shouldn’t be eating. And whenever you’d look up, you’d always find the other staring at you; holding in your shared giggles as your eyes quickly bat away from the other in sync, a hand coming to scratch the back of your neck or to clear your throat.. just anyway to overcome the overwhelming blush on your cheeks.

︴bonus! this wouldn't have been made without @youneedsomeprompts prompts! i used this post and numbers 1, 5, 6, 9, 35, and 36. tysm!!

and happy wonbin day!!

▸ taglist 🎧 @starryriize , @cake1box , @wccycc , @babigriin , @soul-is-a-strange-kid , @riize119 , @yeosayang , @lecheugo , @addictedtohobi , @yuniniverse , @yinyinwon (welcome!)

🎬 navi

@chiiyuuvv on tumblr . do not steal works/headers/line dividers

[feral-ffa]

Ever wondered how those instagram foodie account girls stay skinny even though they're eating 5 items from a different trendy restaurant every day?

You had idly wondered that, but most of all you just couldn't believe your luck when you finally sealed the deal with a cute and sweet rising star foodie.

The first time the two of you went out for a content shooting dinner, it was to a nice fusion sit down place. She told you she'd mostly just talk to her tripod. All you had to do was get some close up shots of crispy crusts and cheese pulls and then just not eat till she had all the footage she needed. Easy trade off for a free dinner with a beautiful girl!

When the waiter came around, she rattled off an order of two house cocktails, two apps, and three entrees, before turning to you and asking you to pick your favorite entree too. You obliged, ordering pineapple fried rice.

When the food came out, she started taking pictures and recording, and she was still working on the appetizers when the 4 big entrees came to the table. You did your best suppressing your hunger and helping her get the perfect shot of her sampling each dish. When she was done and told you to dig in, you both started devouring the still-warm food. But you had to state the obvious. "There's no way we can finish all this."

She waved you off. "We'll take the rest in to-go boxes. Not like it's going to waste."

Still, it seemed like a shame to not have the food hot and fresh out of the kitchen. She got full shortly, but you plugged on, finishing the entirety of the lettuce wraps and spring roll appetizers, both desserts she ordered, and the sweet and saucy pork adobo. It felt like you barely put a dent in the other dishes, so you got to go boxes.

As full as you felt leaving, the siren call of leftovers lured you to the fridge twice more that night.

~~~~~~~

And so it went, your girlfriend taking you to snack joints and restaurants to help film, and you doing your best to clean the plates after. You never truly could though, always bested by her choice of rich cuisines or gimmicky posts ranking every kind of cronut or rice dog a place offered.

Until you all went to a fancy prix fixe place she had fought to get reservations for. You each got five modest portions of perfectly cooked food and you cleaned yours up no problem. She had started to get winded by the meat course and only had half of her dessert.

"Finally a member of the clean plate club, huh?" she teased as she snapped a picture of the receipt.

"Well they give you those small fancy portions," you protested. "Two bites of quail. Two bites of steak. Three raviolis. Tastes good though."

She just laughed and gave you an affectionate pat on the tummy.

~~~~~~~

You did find yourself having to size up your clothes as the seasons changed, but again, you considered it a reasonable tradeoff for the pampered life you were now living.

"I hope you're ready for this," your girlfriend chided you on the way to the state fair in the summer. She was partnering with them for a series of 'everything I ate at the state fair' videos, which of course was actually going to be everything you ate.

You faithfully videoed her taking the first bite of what felt like a million little snacks, making sure to capture her reaction. Wide eyes at the cheese pull from a mozzarella stick, unimpressed at a dry turkey leg, laughing as she got a good angle to chomp down on tornado fries, smiling in pleasure at cherry topped funnel cake.

Soon as she was satisfied with the footage, she would pass the greasy treat off to you and drag you to the next line. You lost count of all the fair food you hurriedly plowed through that day, the hand dipped corn dogs, berry shortcakes, bbq sandwiches, and fried oreos.

The shoot ended with you finishing off a huge fresh squeezed cold lemonade she had taken one (1) sip of. It was the only thing you had room for, and you felt it filling in the gaps in your already food-stuffed gut. You waddled after her to the petting zoo, where she wanted to treat herself to some baby animal cuddles as a reward for getting all the footage and b-roll she needed before sundown.

Before you sat on the bench outside for a breather, you noticed your stuffed belly peeking out of your shirt. Sure you just ate nearly everything the fair had to offer, but this was a new XXL shirt! You glanced at her inside the pen, scratching a piglet behind the ears.

"The pigs are my favorite."

"Yeah, I bet."

~~~~~~~

You went ahead and bought new shirts and pants again. As time passed you got better at eating as much of your girlfriend's orders as possible in one sitting. You especially looked forward to when she did collab videos with her friends. They'd reserve a long table and it would be laden with over a dozen meals. You got to try everything, eat as much as you wanted of your favorites, and there would still be leftovers.

One night before going out to film at a sushi restaurant, she warned you, "this is a hand roll place and i booked us the omakase menu, it's $250 for 6 small bites."

You helped her get pics and enjoyed the delicious savory raw seafood, but she caught the downcast look on your face and the hand on your belly after you left.

"Don't tell me you're still hungry?"

"You aren't?"

"No, I actually finished every course. Even the miso soup."

"Well I'm used to cleaning up after you don't finish every course!" You wrapped your arms around her, and pulled her in close to whisper in her ear. "You always pick where we go, can I choose somewhere just this once?"

"Let me guess," she said as she leaned into your soft belly. "You want to stop at mcdonalds?"

So the two of you stopped at the drive thru, chatting and laughing in the car as you worked your way through a big bag of burgers and fries.

~~~~~~~

You continued to feel grateful for this lifestyle, but you were especially excited when your girlfriend told you she booked a reservation at Pina's Table, a new Italian restaurant that was already getting lots of buzz on the socials.

When you arrived for your reservation, both in nicer clothes for the opening weekend, you were shown to a intimate booth near the back. You felt a little nervous sliding in, as you could just barely fit. But before long you were more focused on the menu. After she ordered her usual sampler spread of two apps, two cocktails and three entrees, the waiter turned to you for your selection, and you decided to be bolder today.

"How about the chicken marsala. And the baked ziti."

Both of your selections looked so good when they arrived, you could barely stop drooling while filming her slicing open a burrata and tasting the spaghetti all'amatriciana. It felt like a million years passed before she gave you the OK to dig in.

You started off sampling a little bit of everything, and it was of course just as good as expected. You were enjoying a mouthful of ziti when the flash from her phone went off. Startled, you looked up. Had she forgotten to get a picture of something?

"Sorry," she blushed, putting her phone back down. "You're enjoying yourself so much, I just wanted to save it to remember."

You laughed. "If that's good, just wait till after I'm done."

You dug into the warm food, savoring the light burrata and tomato salad and the heavier mushroom ravioli and amatriciana. You ate with relish for what seemed like ages until you started to feel the table pushing into your swollen stomach.

Exhausted, you leaned back, against the soft booth, your fullness finally catching up to you. You subtly opened the top button of your pants, letting your belly flow out to bump the table again. There was still so much of each entree left....

You were spared from the eternal dilemma by the chef, a young and energetic guy, coming to the table to drop off a sampling of cannoli and gelato. Your girlfriend jumped up excitedly to shake his hand and take selfies, and passed the phone to you to you could take a couple pictures of them... after you struggled to haul yourself to your feet.

"Thank you so much for helping get the word out," she chef thanked her profusely. "Pina's Table is my baby. I'm thrilled how many people turned out for it."

"Thank you so much for inviting us!" Your girlfriend chirped in reply. "Everything was delicious."

"I'm thrilled you enjoyed it! It's a labor of love." The chef clapped her on the shoulder before turning to you. "And of course your seal approval means just as much too! Seems like you enjoyed, huh?" He gave your belly a playful poke.

"I wouldn't be where I am now without the belly behind the account," your girlfriend agreed, reaching over to give your tummy another squeeze, jostling out a small burp.

The pair of them shared another laugh and selfie before the chef left to go gladhand some other tables.

"Should we get the to-go boxes?" she asked, patting you gently on the butt as you squeezed yourself back into the booth.

"I think I have a little room left."

You pulled the plate of ravioli in front of you and started working on it again as she took a short video of the desserts.

'The belly behind the account,' huh? You could get used to that.

[fruitless-vain]

hi! do you have any ideas on how to reward a dog who doesn't have any strong motivators? Treats are the only thing that work but he doesn't really care if there is something else he wants, doesnt care for toys, pets are ignored. I just have no idea what other rewards could be used

Id take a good look at Why the dogs motivation seems to be lacking, what environment it tanks in, and ensure to keep an eye out for things like stressors, overstimulation, fear, met needs, and other variables that may impact a dog’s comfort taking treats or exhibiting play behaviour. Things like illness or pain should also be considered as a factor for a lack of motivation (schedule their annual and take a good look at their behaviour and their movement- do they sit sloppy, pop hip often, hunch back, etc. these can all be more overlooked signs of pain!). Breed can also be a factor as some are more self motivated than people pleasing so their motivation tends to just look a bit different!

I'd also be curious to know if this dog has always been disinterested or if this has cropped up over time. A common factor for decreasing motivation is the fact that training itself has become unfun. Usually as a result of asking too much of the dog too fast, not paying them adequately for the work they're doing, working in far too complicated settings, too many competing reinforcers, getting frustrated during the session, using rewards to lure a dog towards feared things or simply having training sessions run on for too long where the dog then ends sessions feeling bored or tired. This can cause even the most active dog to become averse to training as a whole which can present itself as an aversion or lack of interest in many common rewards.

Additionally see what sorts of environments the dog is comfortable being rewarded in, perhaps they take treats okay in a certain room of the home but not outside. This can give us a lot of info and allow us to start in an environment they can succeed in and gradually shift to other environments with more complex challenges (like the competing reinforcers you mentioned)

Reinforcers can be Anything the dog actually wants. The sky is really the limit here. I can stick a treat in every dogs mouth and it’s not going to help anything if the dog itself doesn’t find that treat rewarding. Some options might be:

Treats- experiment with different types and textures. Smelly cheeses, hotdog, and sausage are common high value snacks that can help increase motivation in difficult situations but all dogs are different and some might find a satisfying crunch of a crispy biscuit more rewarding. Try new things and see what they gravitate towards. Additionally watch the way you deliver the reward, a common mistake is to push the treat in towards the dog's nose- this can be off-putting as you add spatial pressure which over time can cause a dog to refuse to take treats altogether. Instead try to offer the treat a distance away from their nose so they step towards it to take it (also watch for things like the way you hold your hand, some dogs may find a hand looming down with the treat threatening while a hand held below nose level with the palm up to be nicer to take treats from). You can also deliver treats in more engaging ways instead of just handing it to them. Toss it in the air for them to catch, roll it along the floor to chase, scatter a few pieces in grass, have them chase and follow the hand for a bit prior to releasing the treat. Make getting the treats a whole Experience!

Toys- rubber toys, canvas, biting, chasing, squeakers, tug. There's a ton of options. Not all dogs like playing in the middle of training as it breaks their focus but others live for it. While not for every dog I will say that playing is a good measure for a dog's comfort. If, for example, you can play tug indoors and have a fun time but the dog is unable to play tug at all outdoors that tells us the dog doesn't feel comfortable enough to exhibit that behaviour. That's information we can use!

Petting- Not my favourite thing to use, affection isn't really something you want to be bargaining off in exchange for favours but it has its uses. A fearful dog may love some pets to help comfort them and reduce that fear response, some affection can also go a long way in just grounding your dog and keeping a training session light and fun. A bit of a social fun break. There's definitely some dogs that can appreciate a pet as a reinforcer and they can work in a pinch if other reinforcers aren't available.

Sniffs- Not something you want to overuse as sniffing is a fundamental part of how dogs explore the world but an excellent way to shift to self reinforcing fundamentals like loose leash walking. Most dogs love a good sniff, your hound types especially, and you can use that to your advantage as you ask for a behaviour and then release them to go snuffle away. Sniffing is also a calming behaviour that can reduce heart rate and build confidence in their environment which can reduce issues like not taking treats outdoors in the first place.

Speed- A lot of dogs find human walking paces slow and frustrating (a common cause for leash pulling) so you may find that in outdoor environments you can reward your dog by simply jogging for a short burst. The speed is fun and enticing and as such can often become quite the powerful reward.

Personal play + Volume - Whether this be the opportunity to howl and bark or you getting loud and excited with them. Sometimes a dog may not be interested in toys but they may be interested in your engagement. This might be baby talking to them in a happy tone or fully getting down on their level to wrestle and bop around or perhaps running away and having them chase you. A different way to initiate play for those disinterested in toys.

Premack's Principle - When you are dealing with competing reinforcers most people will find they lose this battle where whatever you have is not as valuable as what the dog actually wants (chasing a squirrel perhaps). In many cases you cannot fight instinct and genetics with a piece of cheese. At least not without prepwork. This is where Premack's Principle comes in to play, where a dog is able to do a less desirable behaviour (ignoring the squirrel) in exchange for a more desirable behaviour (getting to go chase the squirrel). You can use the thing you're struggling with to reinforce what you'd rather see. Another example may be having your dog a distance away from other dogs, waiting for eye contact and then releasing them to go greet the dog. Over time this could cause an exciteable greeter to offer frequent eye contact to you whenever they spot a dog in anticipation of getting to go greet the other dog which is a nice alternative to barking or pulling. Practically everything your dog would Rather Be Doing you can use as a reward for what You would rather they be doing.

I'd also take a look in to "engagement games" online, there should be a load of force free resources out there for ways to make yourself more engaging and fun which can really help in encouraging a dog to be more excited to train. Strong foundations in how they view interacting with you and training as a whole can really go a long way in impacting motivators and training results.

There's a whole lot more to consider and a ton of more complex things that could be at play but without knowing your dog personally I'll leave this here for you to ponder and play with!

[lord-amaranth-12]

(Almost) every food/drink etc. mentioned in obey me nightbringer and shall we date

Notes:

I'll update with links to the sources soon just bare with me. Also please tell if the link arent working

Update: ill stop linking stuff for now

Update: i alphabetized everything (using https://onlinetoolz.net/alphabetical-order) and removed the ingredients for potions cause i will be moving it to another list. I also edited the layout abit to make it more readable

Update: ill start linking stuff now, have to get all out of my storage and posted here before i get full storage again

A

• Abyss crimson bee honey

• Abyss crimson wasp honey

• Alla death cream

• Artic butterfly scales

• Ash fall chocolate brownies

• Assam

B

• Backstabbing sandwich

• Barely cooked black tapir steak

• Bat leaves

• Bavarian cream

• Bell peppers

• Black cloud chocolate gâteau

• Black coffee of melancholy

• Black shark flavored gummies

• Black tapir casserole

• Bloody marmalade

• Bloody rice omelets

• Bloody soda

• blood-red velvet cupcakes

• BLT devil sandwich

• Blue rose crystal pickles

• Blue rose petals candied in crystal syrup

• Bufo egg milk tea

• Bufo egg milk tea hell poison honey flavored

• Bufo toad

• Bufo toad sushi

• Bulbul bird eggs

• Butter pancakes

C

• Castella

• Cat cookies

• Colossal jumbo surprise parfait

• Comfort candy

• Crazy ghoul hamburger

• Crimson bonito flake

• Crimson bonito flake dressing

• Crimson dogwood

• Crimson tea

• Crispy chicken nugget LXXXIII

• Crushed millefeuille

D

• Dark star fruit sandwich

• Death maggot sauce

• Death mask bat chips

• Deaths door sauce

• Deep-fried devil zebra skewers

• Demi-glace sause

• Demon salmon

• Demonic Sausage

• demon silk moth-flavored gummies

• Demonkiller remora

• Demonkiller remora sauté

• Demonus-infused chocolate

• Demon-luring seaweed salt kalbi chips

• Devil cabbage

• Devil cacao bean

• Devil canelé

• Devil chocolate

• Devil chocolate canelé

• Devil duck confit

• Devil flower fruit trifle

• Devil ham

• Devil lohas milk tea

• Devil moray sushi

• Devil salmon meunière sandwiches

• Devil salmon rolled sushi

• Devil salmon terrine

• Devil zebra bacon

• Devil zebra meat sushi

• Devilbee popcorn

• Devildom gummy Horror house flavored

• Devildom-style boneless pararucu

• Devildom-style vampire bat sandwich

• Devils soft serve

• Dragons mark pie crust

• Dreamfeather cookies

• Dreamfeather meringue cookies

• Dried bufo egg

E

• Earl grey cookies

• Eternal night herbal tea

F

• Family pack sushi

• Fish meunière

• flaming hot mushrooms

• Flaming toad

• Fluffy egg pancakes

• Fluorescent rich yogurt

• fried devil chicken

• Fruit of wisdom jelly

G

• Galaxy burger

• Galaxy fries

• Garlic anchovy dip

• Giant shadow sea cucumber cream pasta

• Glazed Shadow chestnut

• gold demonus

• Gold hellfire newt syrup

• grilled vampire bat

H

• Hamburger gummies

• Hamburger stake

• Hamburger steak

• Haunted hamburgers

• Havoc devil

• Havoc devil ribs

• Hawthorn berry powder

• Hell demon salmon

• Hell pudding

• Hell velvet parfait

• Hellfire chocolate pie

• hellfire curry rice

• Hellfire mushroom rooled cigar

• Hellfire mushrooms

• Hellfire rose

• Hells kitchen hamburger combo

• Heros herbal tea

• Horror's horror cheesecake

• Hunter sandwich

I

• Instant noodles (hell-sauce flavor)

J

• Juicy shadow hog rice bowl

K

• King-sized fried devil chicken

• King-sized hellfire curry rice

• King-sized poison bleu cheese hamburger

• King-sized shadow hog ramen

L

• Laughingshroom powder

• Little devils white sauce

M

• Madam scream's super sweet scones

• Magma butter

• Magma butter pasta

• Magma butter scone

• Mandragora powder

• Marinated bufo toad

• Melted cheese

• Mimic latte

• Mint chocolate chip

• Mont blanc

N

• Nightshade cream

O

• Ocean of cloud cake-parfait

• Ocean of Clouds cake

• Ordeal orange fondae

P

• paradise blue

• Pasta alla death cream

• Pickled vampire bat

• poison bleu cheese hamburger

• Poison strawberry

• Poison veggie juice box

• Poison viper worm al ajiilo

• Poison worm sauce

• Poisonous cheese burgers

• Poisonous cheesecake

• Poisonous marsh pudding

• Princess poison apple

• Promised glory donut (?)

• Purgatory mustard

Q

• Quattro Hungry Pizza

• Quetzalcoatl brains

• Quetzalcoatl brains soup

R

• Rainbow paw print chocolate

• Red riding hood sandwich

• RedxRed apple pie

• Region exclusive Devildom gummy

• RIP burger

• Ruby chocolate éclair

S

• Sabbat salad

• Salted hell rose petals

• Salt-grilled black goat bat

• Scorpion syrup

• Shadow caramel

• Shadow chestnut

• Shadow chestnut paste

• Shadow chocolate

• Shadow chocolate brownies

• Shadow hof stir fry in demi-glance sauce

• Shadow hog

• Shadow hog buns

• Shadow hog dumplings

• shadow hog ramen

• Shadow hog soup

• Shadow hog steamed bun

• Shadow hog stir fry

• Shadow pork ragu pasta

• Shadow tuna sashimi

• Silver birch sap

• Simeons special BLT devil sandwiches

• Siren bench caviar

• Smoked cocktraice glizzard

• Smoky black loco moco

• Spicy rainbow pizza

• spiderweb powder

• Sponge cake

• Stardust soda

• Starry-sky waffle

• Stonefish Meunière

• Strawberry shortcake

• Super-sized limited-edition beef

• Sweet and salty canned kraken assortment

• Sweet milk tea

• Sweet tears donut

T

• thick-cut giant devildom slug sauté

• Thunder sparkle flavored gummies

• Toe bean stamp salad

• Troll coffee

U

• Ultra D

• Unhappy Mega Combo

V

• Vampire bat

• Venti brashberry frappuccino with double whipped cream and extra berry powder

W

• Whole roast shadow hog

• Wicked cupcake

X

Y

Z

Not in devildom

A

B

C

• Camping meal (Witch camp)

• Cursed goat cheese tartar sandwich (TSL)

D

E

• Ema datshi (human world)

F

G

• Ginger ale (human world)

H

• Hamburger (mama's cooking) (levis animes)

• Herbal tea (celestial realm)

• Huckleberry (human world)

• Hyper chili dog (human world)

I

J

• Japanese giant salamander (human world)

K

L

M

• Mapo tofu (human world)

N

O

P

Q

R

S

T

• Tornado tomato (human world)

U

V

W

• White mochi balls in syrup (march comes in like a Panda)

X

Y

Z

Unnamed

A

B

• Barbatos's homemade cake

• Barbatos's homemade pudding

C

• Celestial tea

D

• Demon lords castle edition premium demonus

• Demonus with scorpion syrup and spiderweb powder

• Devilcats favorite food

E

F

G

H

I

J

K

L

• Leviathans homemade granola

• Lobster

M

• marshmallow

• Moryo Town's special demonus

• multi colored Jelly

N

O

P

• Popcorn Deaths door flavored

• Popcorn lava salt flavored

• Popcorn magma butter flavored

• Popcorn Tree sap caramel flavored

• Pudding from devilmart

Q

R

• Ramen infernal bahamit flavor

• Rare flower used in baking as a sweetener

• Really big chocolate bar

• Really big chocolate coin

S

• Salad from Sound Off, Symphony! Summer band camp storyline

• Sheep cake

• Star-shaped chocolate

• Sun and moon cookies by simeon

T

I

V

W

X

Y

Z

Characters

• "Little cake thingies"

???

• Chocolate mold

• Devildom miso

• Egg berry whole mil

• Marinated bufo toad

• Marzipan

• Meunièr

• Newt

• Surströmming

[newtmas-supremxcy]

Tmr incorrect quotes #12

Alby: Newt come here a sec. I can't find Thomas and you're the only one that can decipher his handwriting.

Alby: He said in his report he saw something in the maze. It's either a crispy mother werewolf or a cowboy mustard, Oslo, Norway.

Newt: *takes the papers from Alby* They saw a horde of greviers and lured them off the cliff.

Newt: *gives Alby back the papers* Being able to read Thomas's writting is a gift a useless, useless gift.

[jerzwriter]

Bacon & Bribery: A Hopkins Tale

You know, @dr-colossal-pita, I really don't know what happens to my brain when I get your requests, and it can be argued that it's frightening, but hey - it works! lol Thanks for the ask, and I hope you enjoy this silliness. :) From this ask.

Book: Open Heart (prequel/Hopkins Years) Characters: Ethan Ramsey, Tobias Carrick Words: 600 Rating: Teen Summary: All Ethan wants to do is sleep as late as he can, but Tobias has other plans. A/N: This fic takes place during Ethan & Tobias's Hopkins years, before the competition soured their friendship. @choicesfebruary2024 - Philia (for both) and a little Philautia for Tobias lol

The ringer on Ethan’s alarm clock went off, but its sound was nearly drowned out by the tortured moan he emitted the moment it started to buzz. Reaching over, he slammed his hand against the snooze button and rolled over. Nuzzled under the blanket again, all was right with the world, and a half-grin formed on his lips. He had everything down to a science. He could hit snooze three more times, allowing him just enough time to throw on his clothes, pour a cup of coffee, and race to his first and only class of the day. It was all clockwork. But this morning, something was different.

Ethan’s nose wrinkled as the savory scent of bacon and sausage wafted into his room. He wanted to stay in bed, difficult as that was knowing bacon was a room away, but if the processed meats couldn’t lure him, the singing... well, it didn’t lure him, but compelled him to wake and make it stop. Shuffling to the kitchen in a tattered old bathrobe and disheveled hair, Ethan rubbed his eyes to find Tobias cheerfully standing over the stove.

“Hey, Buddy!” he grinned. “Let me guess, you’re here for the bacon, right!”

“Well, I sure as hell am not here for your sausage,” he grumbled. “Let me guess? You’re trying to impress some poor soul lying in your bed? Is it one of the rare finds you want to bring back here more than once?"

Tobias, already dressed in a fitted back T and perfectly distressed jeans, turned to his friend with a playful scowl.

“Why are you so damn bitter, Ramsey. We need to get you laid.”

“I get laid, plenty,” Ethan spat, stopping Tobias mid pancake flip.

“E... no one who actually gets laid ‘plenty’ ever says they get laid ‘plenty.’ But enough about your non-existent sex life. There’s no one here except us, so what do you want for breakfast?”

“To go back to bed.”

“Fine!” Tobias replied, flipping a crispy piece of bacon into his mouth. “But don’t think I’m saving any of this for you.”

Ethan took a step away, but the virtual breakfast buffet spread out on the kitchen counter had him turning around.

“Fine!" he said ploping into a chair. "Eggs, bacon, and some pancakes will do nicely.”

“Coming right up,” Tobias snickered. “And damn, you really meant it when you said you didn’t want my sausage.”

Tobias burst out laughing as his friend sighed in grief. 

“I don’t know if this breakfast is worth putting up with you.”

“Pfft,” Tobias smiled, placing Ethan’s plate before him. “You love me even when there’s no breakfast involved. Don't try denying it!”

“I don't."

Tobias leaned back in the chair across from his friend. "Keep lying to yourself," he chortled. “Oh, FYI, our 9:00 class was canceled. What do you say we take a ride down to the waterfront and make the most of the day.”

Ethan dropped his toast to the table, his jaw hanging open.

“You mean you knew class was canceled? And you're out here making breakfast?”

“Had to get you up, somehow,” Tobias grinned. “Come on! It’s a beautiful day! We should enjoy it."

"I wanted to enjoy it in bed!" Ethan spat, instantly regretting his words.

"Yeah, well, that has different meanings for you and me, my friend." All too proud of himself for irritating Ethan, Tobias laughed again.

“How can you even be this happy this early in the morning?” Ethan pondered as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“It’s all part of my charm! You should be taking notes. Then, we could go back to that whole getting you laid thing... hey, where you going?”

“I’m going to get dressed. The sooner we’re in the car, the sooner I can put on the radio to tune you out.”

Tobias smiled with a snap of his fingers. “And just like that... I’ve got my ride to the waterfront!”

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

[linasofia]

Around the Riverbend

This is my entry for the TSF 2023 event. I teamed up with the wonderful artist @legolasbadass and the masterpiece above is her creation. Link to her original post. Give her some love!!😍

I had so much fun during this event and it's thanks to you, @legolasbadass. 💙💙💙

Fandom: The Hobbit

Relationship: Thorin Oakenshield x OFC

Summary: In Nordic folklore, the Neck is a malevolent water spirit who took the form of a naked man and played a violin or harp so beautifully that he would enchant women (and children) to follow the music and lure them down into the river—where they would eventually drown. This is a story about Thorin, a lonely Neck who one day witnesses a beautiful woman washing clothes in his river.

Warnings: A bit angsty

The sun shone brightly from a clear blue sky, and the horizon appeared to tremble from the warmth. The air was filled with tiny winged warriors, ready to defend their queen if a sudden threat to their miniature realm should appear. A narrow river cut through the endless green landscape, separating the fertile hills from the real wilderness. On both sides of the river, where its banks met crispy grass, wild thyme, lupins, and buttercups covered the ground, filling the air with their characteristic smell. The dark, glittering water followed the countless bends without obstacles, for the persistent river had tamed the landscape long ago. Only the ancient rocks—created when the world was still young and violent—refused to bow to its will, but time had made the stones’ surface smooth and slippery. No matter how strong the sun appeared, the river would always be there to offer all living things a chance to quench their thirst or cool off from a long walk. But the river was also treacherously deep in some areas, and it was said it had a soul. The river gives, and the river takes, was a saying well taught among the gentle folk living over the hills, and songs were sung to honor those who paid with their life when the river was capricious.

The air stood still above the river and reached a higher temperature than it had for a long time. The banks along the river were dry, causing any movement to stir the sand. Not even a gust of wind made the leaves rustle, and the only sound heard was the distant noise from a waterfall. During these warm summer days, the light never went to sleep—for this was the land of the midnight sun.

On a large rock by the shallow end of the river sat a tall figure who dipped his feet in the water. Sturdy trees in distinct shapes grew close to the banks, and their branches provided shelter from the merciless sun—and cover when the brooding-looking creature needed to remain unseen. From a distance, he looked like an ordinary man, a warrior even. He was broader over the shoulders than most men who came to swim in the river, with muscular arms and large hands. His wide chest was covered in curly hair, dark as a moonless night. The most unusual cerulean shade graced his eyes, causing his stare to resemble both the sky and its dramatic reflection in the water. Despite his thick fingers, the creature could play the harp more beautifully than any other tones ever heard. He was a Neck—a water spirit—and the only of his kin, as far as he knew. During the golden hour, when the river bathed in warm light and before the animals came down to soothe their burning throats with water, the Neck let sweet tones roll from his strings—to calm his loneliness. Many were those who had listened to his music and blindly followed him without thinking of their safety. A golden harp was his only possession, and its delicate strings were made of fair hair taken from the scalps of the innocent maidens he had enchanted in the past. The countless strings were thin but twisted hard to last a long time. Not even the sharpest sword could cut off the strings, and the fingers on whoever was trying to play his instrument would bleed. On one occasion, he had tried to replace a broken string with his own hair, but the harp made a shrieking sound during his first attempt to strum it. From that day, he learned that only the fairest of hairs could create the tones he craved.

The wind had whispered an unknown word to him for as long as he could remember. The word bore a resemblance to thunder, and eventually, the Neck named himself Thorin. He was a lonely spirit, bound to the life-giving river and unable to leave it. Some would certainly call his destiny sad—if they knew he existed. But he always stayed out of sight, and the animals who came to drink barely felt his presence. Thorin had no knowledge of his age, but he knew he had seen the oak closest to the river bank grow from a small acorn to the impressive tree it was now. His long, dark hair was marked by time and for every summer that passed by, his reflection revealed how the thin braids at his temples gradually turned whiter. Thorin lived off what the river provided him, but his restless mind always searched for the pure soul who would make his lonely misery end. He was certain she was out there; it was only a matter of time before his One would make her way down to the river. She was destined to pass the cruel sacrifice of drowning, and he would give her the ability to breathe in his kingdom, far beneath the glittering surface. Then she would be his to cherish—forever.

Slowly the shadows in front of the old oak became longer, indicating the sun’s journey over the sky. Thorin watched the stillness of the water around his favorite rock and snapped his fingers to create the smallest vibration. His harp lay next to him, and it glowed like fire in the sun. Suddenly, he became aware of a movement further down the river. Thorin usually stayed in the more narrow parts of the river where the water was shallow, allowing him to keep sight of both banks at the same time. When he squinted, he saw the shape of a person moving along the river, walking straight in his direction. A woman, more precisely. Without disturbing the water, Thorin slipped down from the rock and hid behind it with water up to his waist. He waited in silence as the woman came closer, but he knew precisely how to move to avoid discovery. She carried a large basket, and as she sat it down near the water, directly in front of him, he understood why she had come. From his position behind the rock, Thorin could easily observe her, and the first thing he noticed was her hair. The woman had long, fair hair—forced into a thick braid and secured at the end with a blue ribbon. In the afternoon light, her hair shone like the sun itself, and Thorin gaped at the sight. She wore a dress that reminded him of the many cornflowers growing beyond the sandy banks. The fabric was of a simple kind, as so often when hugging the body of a woman from beyond the hills. Over the years, Thorin had noticed that the peaceful people living near the water and traveling by foot often wore these kinds of fabric to shield their bodies. On a few occasions, he had seen small groups of riders and carts pulled by large horses. Those people often wore fabrics that glittered like frostbitten river reed in the sun, but they never stopped long enough for him to learn who they were or where they came from. Usually, their animals drank water, and then they were gone as quickly as they came. The folk from the hills beyond the river were of a different kind. They regularly came to the river to bathe or clean their belongings. Some of them were only children, and those were the times Thorin had most trouble remaining undiscovered, for young minds are curious by nature and far more reckless than their parents. And they liked his music.

The woman in the cornflower dress grabbed something from her basket and waded out in the river until the water reached above her calves. Then she sank the dirty fabric into the water and started to whip it with the piece of wood she held in her other hand. Water splashed around her, staining her dress—but she did not seem to care. Thorin watched her as she worked, and something about her intrigued him, and it was not only because of her unusual hair. The woman was young but not as young as the previous maidens who had failed to resist his harp. Her sleeveless dress was of a simple cut, offering him a fine view of her tanned skin. She was clearly used to working hard; her feminine muscles were strong and well-defined. With tireless strength, she carried on, working through the small mountain of clothes in her basket, and Thorin found himself wishing she had even more chores to do. Every time she stretched her back, he admired the curves of her body, and when she bent down over her basket, he could not tear his eyes from her behind. Thorin felt confused; he had seen beautiful maidens before, naked even—as they sometimes came to bathe, alone or in a group. Without knowledge of what waited in the dark water, they unconcernedly exposed their skins to his eyes. He had never been attracted to any of them as much as the fair-haired beauty.

As he gazed at the woman, Thorin came to think of another young maiden from long ago when his braids were still dark as the eyes of a heron. He had never forgotten the fiery maiden who came to the river evening after evening, yet always alone. The warm light of the sun made her hair glow like copper as she lowered herself into the river, and in the cover of the dark water, Thorin dived under the surface and swam very close to her. He had a feeling she knew someone was watching her, and she was not afraid—she liked it. The way she used her hands to clean her body was something he had never seen, and he allowed himself to take great risks to be near her. Hidden by the dark water, he could have reached out to touch her—but he never did. When he got bored of just watching her, he grabbed his harp and let his seductive notes fill the air. She was so easy to snare. Sadly, she was not who he was searching for, and she paid the ultimate price for his misjudgment. Thorin dressed her body before he left her at the bank further down the river. Such beauty was better to cover before someone with foul intentions found her. Someone like him.

Clear, light tones suddenly filled the air, and Thorin listened intently. A sweet melody floated over the water—like mist rising on early summer mornings. The young woman had stopped beating the dirt out of her laundry and was rinsing and twisting the fabrics. As she worked, she gave air to the feelings she carried inside, and Thorin had no problem understanding the longing behind her words—for they lived inside him as well. Long strands of hair escaped her braid and framed her face beautifully. She pushed the locks back repeatedly with her wet hands, but the hair had a will of its own, it seemed. The locks wanted to be free, to be able to dance in the wind on stormy days and caress her cheeks when she lowered her chin. Absently, Thorin stroked the strains on his harp. The length of her hair was perfect, but his harp was still intact. He had no need for it—yet.

The melancholic melody she was singing penetrated Thorin’s skin, found its way to his tormented soul and wrapped itself around his lonely heart. An unfamiliar and strange feeling spread in his chest, making his heart beat faster. Her words could have been aimed directly at him when she sang of all the beautiful things he had never known but still instinctively felt he wanted; tenderness, love, and someone to hold close. The young woman’s voice was unlike anything he had ever heard, purer than the morning’s first ray of light and softer than a swift summer breeze. Her tones would harmonize perfectly with his—if he caressed the golden strings. Together they could create something extraordinary.

Thorin observed her every move carefully, and from his hiding place, he could not spot any signs of belonging on her body. No rings on her fingers nor braids in her hair—nothing indicating that she already had a chosen one in her life. Even if her hips were wide enough to bear children, no man seemed to have claimed her yet. Thorin felt a rare stream of heat rushing through his body at the thought. He was suddenly warmer than he had ever experienced, not even during the year’s hottest days. The heat came from the depth of his core, created by the music of his pulse and her singing in his veins. For a moment, he wondered if he was ablaze, and he lowered himself deeper into the water to cool off the burning feeling on his skin. The water never failed him; it helped his skin to control its temperature, and his mind regained its usual sharpness. The young woman in the cornflower dress was special in a way he could not explain to himself—all he knew was that he could not tear his eyes from her. When he turned to the river for guidance, he was suddenly met with silence. It was as if the river was forcing him to feel for himself. Could she be the one he had spent a lifetime waiting for? Was he looking at his One? His grip around his harp tightened.

When the basket was filled with wet fabrics, she left it by the river. After a quick glance around, she grabbed the hem of her dress and lifted it in modesty as she waded out in the water until it reached up to her thighs. She wore no stockings, Thorin noticed, as he caught a teasing glimpse of her skin before the water shielded the sight. Her cheeks blushed like the sky during sunset, revealing how warm she was after her hard work, and Thorin marveled at the satisfaction she appeared to experience in the cooling water. How he wished for her to pull the dress over her head and throw herself out in the deeper part of the river. The water would wash away all her sweat and help her forget the chores for a while. Maybe she was a good swimmer—some of the people over the hills actually were—and could easily make it to the opposite side of the river. If so, he would follow her. Protect her. When Thorin was underwater, his eyes adapted well to the darkness, and it allowed him to see things others could not. It also made it easy for him to approach those he wanted to avoid being seen by. Humans’ skins sometimes glimmered like the scales of a trout in the water, but this woman was not that pale. The sun had kissed the delicate skin on her arms, yet Thorin suspected not all of her body had been exposed to the burning sun. The thought of seeing what she hid under her dress made him quietly groan. Greed slowly corrupted Thorin’s heart—she could belong to him. Her voice already had the power to brighten his inner clouded sky, and if he took her to his kingdom, she too would be bound to the river. She would never be able to return to the place she came from, and they could be together—forever.

When the first mellow note vibrated through the air, the woman looked up with a startled expression. She instantly let go of the hem, and the skirt fell down into the water and created a pool of wet fabric around her. Thorin let his fingers run along the strings—echoing her melody—and it made her smile softly. Her face was beautiful while frowning, but now, when his music made her features light up like the sun, Thorin realized he was smiling as well. At first, she seemed to hesitate, but then she took a few steps in his direction and started to sing again. Without thinking, Thorin gave his harp life, and the notes rose to the sky effortlessly. The woman’s soft voice harmonized with his music, followed the same winding path, and spoke of promises neither of them understood. He watched her as she came closer, and to his delight, he saw the same golden light in her eyes as he had seen in others several times before. When she fell silent, Thorin knew he had succeeded. She was defenseless, captured by his music, and she would follow him to whatever place he led. With a pleased grin, he dived under the surface, swam quickly further away and then emerged again. The moment he broke the surface of the water, light from the sun hit his wet skin and made it sparkle. His hair appeared to be even darker than before—as well as his eyes. But the beautiful fair-haired woman did not even blink; only the sweetest of smiles formed her lips into a sensual shape. Thorin lifted his harp again and tenderly caressed the strings. Another of his melodies floated over the water—tones filled with the deepest temptation—and formed an invisible leash to wrap around the neck of whoever heard them. It never failed to make the listener unable to resist following the sound of his harp. And it did not take many heartbeats before the woman started walking, her eyes resting on a spot far beyond what Thorin could see. As soon as she came closer, Thorin dived again, and then again, leading her away from the relatively safe parts of the river. Around riverbend after riverbend, she followed him, and he played with growing desire in his heart. He wanted her—needed her. Her body and soul would eventually be his. Blinded by greed, he ignored what would happen to her if she was not his One. The river got deeper, she was up to her waist in water, and the river started to become restless. It tore at her dress as if trying to wake her from her trance. But it was to no use, for no woman nor child could stand against the power of Thorin’s harp.

The rumble of the waterfall became louder, and Thorin increased his effort so he would not lose what he had worked so hard for. His music needed to drown the noise from the fall, or the woman with the fairest hair would wake from the enchantment too soon. He just needed to lead her around another riverbend, and then they would finally be looking down at the gate to his kingdom. Thorin could picture her falling, but he was supposed to follow her—and catch her—before she passed the point of no return. If her body were resilient enough, they would then be able to enter together.

The river banks narrowed the gap between them, the trees grew even closer to the water, and their long branches framed the magical-looking scene. The air was filled with mist rising from the fall, and it gave the area a spectacular light. The fall itself was dangerously high, and the river sent cascades of water over the edge, creating a mesmerizing—but violent—entrance to the Neck’s underwater realm. Below the fall waited a long row of black, large rocks, and only Thorin knew how far they reached—and how to avoid getting smashed against them. The melody changed to compliment the dramatic nature, and by the brink of the fall stood his woman—waiting—in her soaked dress. The water was less deep here, so he could see more of her, and while the dress clung to her body, he greedily took in every shape and curve. Soon he would be able to touch her. She would slip on the flat rocks he knew were placed right in front of her. They all had. In perfect harmony, the two of them would then spend the rest of their days together, and never before had his heart been more convinced he was right. All he demanded was a few more steps.

One of his precious strings suddenly broke and was left hanging by a single piece of hair, forcing Thorin to stop briefly and rethink his notes. Losing a string was not critical, for most of his melodies could be played in a slightly different way, but it disturbed him enough to shift focus. Instead of continuing, he came to think of her song and the meaning behind the beautiful words she sang while working. Parts of the song spoke of longing for someone who could heal a shattered heart, but at the end of the many courses, one line stood out from the rest, and he remembered the words clearly: I ask you to be mine.

Thorin was already holding his harp in place—ready to fulfill what he had started—when an unwelcome feeling of doubt erupted in his chest. He tried to ignore it, but the cold feeling spread with his blood to all parts of his body and made his skin itch as if he had a rash. Like a massive tidal wave, realization hit him, and it threatened his inner river dam to collapse. He was not asking her to be his, and even if her words of love were true, she had certainly not approved of what he was determined to do. Despite that, he was more than ready to put his own needs first and take what he wanted. Thorin took a deep breath to steady himself and bring order to his chaotic mind. But what if what he truly needed was something deeper? Something pure, formed by consent between two souls and spoken with mutual words. True love. He tasted the words. True love could not be forced, he knew that deep inside his lonely heart, yet he spent all his life denying it.

The waterfall roared his name, and Thorin started weighing his options. If he broke the enchantment and approached her, the risk of having her running for her life was exceedingly high. She could hurt herself badly on the slippery rocks. He was aware of their differences in appearance, and his natural nudity was not customary—maybe even disapproved of—among the gentle folk living over the hills. On many occasions, he had seen the men who came to swim in his river and none of them were sculpted like him below the waist. Never in his long life had he lifted an enchantment, and therefore, he lacked knowledge of what would happen when she drew her first breath without his invisible leash. Thorin knew he possessed a mighty power, and he sensed a risk she might not recover quickly from it. He watched the woman as she trembled. The currents tearing at her clothes were strong and cold, and her skin was silently protesting. Her beautiful smile had the power to wake the northern light, but his mind refused to leave him alone. Would she be able to love him if she knew how he captured her and sent her tumbling down the waterfall? Could she forgive him if he passively watched her body fight in the water until no air was left in her lungs? When the light of day finally disappeared from her eyes—and his kiss marked the beginning of their union—would she then accept him as her One? Thorin could feel every heartbeat vibrating in his chest, and his breathing turned shallow as he slowly shook his head in answer to his questions. When he lowered his harp, he perceived the truth; he wanted her to choose him out of free will—not by death.

Dark clouds started to gather in his inner sky, and his lonely heart tore at his soul. Together they could end his misery, and a lifetime of searching would be over. But the possibility he earlier refused to ponder crept over him. Another thought—cold and sharp—sank its massive claws in his exposed heart, and when it got a tight grip, Thorin knew he could no longer hide from his own mind. His self-doubt fed from him as a starving leech and rapidly grew stronger. If the woman he was about to claim as his was not the one he so desperately wanted her to be, history would repeat itself. She would fight a doomed battle against the river but eventually end up on the river bank—as so many had done before her. Thorin acknowledged the longing in his body, but the more he thought of the meaning behind the words in her song, the more he questioned himself. Even if her lips no longer moved, he could still hear her beautiful voice echoing somewhere between his hope and despair. Time was running out, and he needed to continue if he was not going to let her slip from his grip. But Thorin’s fingers refused to strum across the strings. He tried again, but no tones came. Desperation boiled in his blood until suddenly, he understood. He could not proceed. She deserved to make her own choices; her life belonged to her, for she was indeed special. With a heavy heart, he took in the shape of the woman he was convinced—until just a few breaths ago—was meant to be his forever. Her fair hair was damp, and she seemed to sway like a young silver poplar during an autumn storm.

By the river stood an old weeping birch, dipping its long branches in the water. Thorin had seen the leaves fall from the old tree every autumn, but he had never been more grateful for the shelter it provided under its green ceiling. From a distance it was impossible to see beneath the branches, but Thorin could peek out. When he was certain he was well hidden, he sat down—and waited.

Time seemed endless, and Thorin was just starting to wonder if the woman would recover at all when all of the sudden, she shook her head. With a confused expression on her sweet face, she looked around, and for a short while, her gaze lingered on the old birch. Thorin’s breath caught in his throat, and suddenly he feared she could see him. Or sense him. But then she turned her attention to the water and carefully took a few steps backwards. Her slender hands rubbed her naked arms as if waking them from a slumber or bringing warmth back to the skin. The woman reached for her skirt and collected as much as she could of the wet fabric before slowly walking to the opposite side. The banks were steeper on that side, and she crawled, visibly dizzy, up from the water. Her dress that used to bear a lovely shade of cornflower before, was dirty when she reached the safety at the top of the bank. She looked back over the river, and Thorin could only guess she carried a strange feeling in her chest. Even if she did not remember how she got to the fall, she most likely understood at least part of the danger she barely escaped from. The noise from the waterfall was usually enough to keep sane folks at a distance.

Under the tall weeping birch, Thorin remained unseen, and he lowered his head, ready to be judged by the river. Pieces of his shattered heart scraped against his lungs as dry sand on sore skin, and it made it harder for him to breathe. Very carefully, he plucked a few strings, and the sad notes reminded him of large drops of water dripping into an already filled bucket. His knuckles were unnaturally white—caused by his tight grip around the harp—and a salty taste lingered on his lips when he slowly ran the tip of his tongue over them. For the first time in his life, he had done an unselfish act, and even if he doubted the pain was worth it, he could now call himself honorable.

That night, the glowing sun unexpectedly came to rest below the horizon and abruptly marked the end of summer. The people living over the hills spoke about the strange whim of nature long after the remarkable event. As darkness fell over the landscape, Thorin slowly loosened the fair strings from his harp and let them float away with the river. They glittered like gold when they disappeared over the edge of the waterfall, and Thorin sighed deeply. Stars glimmered in the sky, and the moon’s pale light made Thorin’s temple braids shine like silver. He was a fascinating creature, but as so often with lonely souls, completely unaware of his beauty. Without even the slightest hesitation, Thorin took a deep breath of the warm evening air, then gracefully entered the gate to his realm for the last time—and sealed it.

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Taglist and others who might be interested: @lathalea @legolasbadass @laurfilijames @i-did-not-mean-to @enchantzz @fizzyxcustard @middleearthpixie @xxbyimm @mariannetora @haly-reads @sunnysidesidra @rachel1959 @knittastically @quiall321 @medusas-hairband @fulltimecrazy @s0ftd3m0n @emrfangirl @glimmering-darling-dolly @lilith15000 @clumsy-wonderland @theawkwardbutterfly @exhausted-humxn-being @beenthroughalot @chaikittie @piscesvancouverite @sotwk @dontaskmehowdontaskmewhy @mrsdurin

[bored-frog]

Indecisive Urge

I know I shouldn't but I want to...

It's a bad idea, but the way she's staring at me with that hypnotizing gaze, the one that seduces me into stepping over, leaving me to regret it all hours later...alone.

From where I stand I can not see the thorny lies she hides behind her back, as the beautiful-awful-thought persuades me to step into her direction, promising I won't regret it, ensuring me everything will be different, that she isn't holding a dagger, ready to strike at me with graceful ease.

How does she do it?

A true deceiver, decorated in a way that keeps my eyes completely glued to her, the way she speaks almost makes me believe it's worth the internal turmoil I know she'll hand me, it's the only gift she seems to bear.

"Don't you want to know," her sultry voice whispers in my restless mind. "Aren't you dying to find out, my lovely little doormat," her delicious nails rake into my brain.

The way she teases me has me clutching onto everything; Ghostly touches upon a burning inquiry.

She knows far too well what I've been salivating for, it's the only reason she twistedly toys with my disgustingly rotten insides.

No one prompts me in the wicked way she does, she gets off on leading me astray.

Her kisses are dangerous, they're the kind that leave you in a heavenly daze, so drunk off of them you don't realize you've been stranded in the darkly cold spiral...once again.

I know I shouldn't walk towards the wonderfully-dressed-beguiling temptress, for she is a ruthless whore.

I should ignore her angelic siren calls, for they only wish to lure me out, so that I may drown myself in the consumption of your time.

I need to turn away from the tear soaked road, I've seen what damp emptiness it offers at the end.

I know, I completely understand what I have to do...but I can't stop myself from occasionally letting you roll around inside my puddle of thoughts.

I know I shouldn't but I want to know your reason behind it all. It's the broken cassette tape that seems to have jammed itself deep within the damp player of my car.

I should remove it, it's old and damaged, but I miss playing the sweet songs burned onto it, they were once all of my favorite hits, a perfect mixture just for my ears.

No longer do I groove to the rhythm as I ride through the halls, instead I sit in silence, looking through the dusty windows, ignoring the repairs my dirty beaten rig requires.

Everything has changed, it's time to lodge it out of my system, the pinkish tape was scorched by the spools years ago, burnt to a hardened crispy coil from my heart's over usage; A plastic strand of music that's been quietly dead for years.

I know I should but I don't want to.

- Autumn(Me)

[reginaregen]

Iolanda's Heart - Bucky

As they entered the house, Pietro asked, "Can I take a shower?"

Violet, while locking the door, answered the man heading towards the bedroom, "Make yourself comfortable. Your pajamas are in my wardrobe. You can get the towel from the cupboard in the bathroom. I'll make us some tea."

"I don't want tea!" the boy shouted. While searching for the pajamas he had left at Violet's for sleepovers, he added, "We're having a girls' night! We're going to eat a ton of junk food and drink wine."

"You know there’s no junk food in my house."

As a gust of wind swept through the middle of the living room, the girl rolled her eyes. When the same wind came back, Pietro had left a bunch of junk food packages on the kitchen table. "Take another look."

"This is quite the show-off, though!"

As the boy moved back to the bedroom, he scolded her, "Stop whining!" He was actually worried about her. If he discovered that she was calorie-counting again, he would lose his mind. Also that crush Violet mentioned today earlier... Another possibility he was considering was Violet’s secret platonic crush being someone from the Avengers. Vision was clear. Tony was old. Clint was married. Steve had once mentioned wanting to take Violet on a date, but Pietro had begged him not to, confessing his own love for Violet, and Steve had backed off. Still, he could sometimes sense Steve’s lingering interest in the girl. If Violet liked him, there was no barrier between them, which took Steve off the list of suspects. Strange was the demon—Violet had him using his mind to maintain extra calmness and concentration during challenging surgeries, so they spent a lot of time together, which really bothered Pietro. Strange was always flirting with Violet. Violet flirted back, but often it was just to irritate Pietro. Pietro had told her he didn’t like Strange. His aim was to keep her away from him, but it had backfired. The first person she was closest to among the Avengers was Wanda, but since she had moved to a country house with her boyfriend and chosen a quiet life, Strange had taken her place.

Pietro? Are you crazy? They had known each other from their days in Hydra's torture chambers, when they were just little kids. Violet had slapped the nine-year-old Pietro who tried to kiss her during their first encounter. Pietro had fallen in love with the six-year-old girl who delivered the slap. Over the years, this experience had become a story Violet would laugh about. For Pietro, it had grown into an unrelenting love. As love eventually blended with affection, respect, trust, and peace, Pietro realized he was cursed to never be able to love anyone but Violet for eternity.

Not finding his pajamas on the top shelf of the wardrobe, he bent down and opened the drawers. In the first drawer he opened, there were socks. Without looking in the second drawer, he reached in but immediately recognized what he had touched and closed it back without looking. He had touched the girl's underwear. He felt guilty and excited. The excitement only made him feel more guilty. He tried to calm down for a few seconds and then shouted from the room towards the living room, "Honey, I can’t find my pajamas."

"They’re exactly in where you put them!" the girl yelled back.

As footsteps approached, Pietro pressed his lips together to avoid laughing. Violet entered the room and shook her index finger at him, "If you call me 'honey' one more time today, I'll castrate you. That way, we'll literally have a girls' night!"

"How about my sweet little girl?"

"Pietro!"

"How's my little world? Because you’re so tiny?"

Violet giggled, "Pietro, Django!"

"Or maybe something sweeter? Let’s think about it. Actually, you have the potential to be a pie. Tough and crispy on the outside, soft enough to lure someone to hypnosis on the inside..."

"Shut up!" She stopped him with a flushed face, trying not to laugh. She bent over to the wardrobe and handed Pietro’s gray pajama set to him, "Can you find the towels?"

"I don’t think so," he said, following Violet to the bathroom. The girl grabbed a towel from the mirrored, tall bathroom cabinet and, as she closed the mirrored door, saw Pietro taking off his shirt right behind her. She swallowed, "How many times have I told you not to undress in front of me? God!"

"I only took off my shirt. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before. You’re so sensitive today. Wait, am I your secret platonic crush?" He bumped into her as she turned back to hand him the towel. He tilted his head to look carefully at the girl, who was two heads size shorter than him.

As Violet stared at him, she poked his chest with the towel, "Do you think I’m such a horrible person that I’d fall in love with my best friend and betray his trust?"

"If you loved me, it wouldn’t be horrible at all! Betraying my trust? You don't know what you are talking about."

Instead of following the breadcrumbs Pietro had left as clues, the girl didn’t even understand or see them. As always, she didn’t get it. While Pietro took the towel from her, Violet placed her hands on his body, which was cold in summer and warm in winter due to his super-fast metabolism, "God! You’re like a furnace!"

Pietro, trying to hide the movement in parts of his body he didn’t want to move at the moment, practically squealed, "You’re like a refrigerator! I could swear there’s no blood circulating in your body."

"Shut up." The girl moaned with pleasure and rested her cheek on his bare chest, "So warm," she said in a drowsy voice.

Pietro was making a huge effort to stay calm, "You’ve absorbed enough warmth, cold vampire!" he gently pushed her away, "If you don’t mind, I’m going to take a shower. I don’t want to delay our girls' night any longer."

"Okay, but please sleep with me tonight! I’ll give you the world! God! I love having a living furnace."

When the girl left the bathroom on tiptoe, Pietro leaned against the locked door. He took deep breaths, thinking about how much longer he could endure such pain. He wished he were Violet’s platonic crush. Sometimes he imagined scenarios where the girl came to him and confessed it before falling asleep at night. He allowed himself a few silent tears when he took his shower. For the rest of the night, he was determined to find out who that platonic crush was from Violet’s own mouth.

At the same moments, while poor Pietro had no idea what she was doing, Violet was texting Bucky finally. It was not a sudden courage, she was just sick of waiting.

Violet: I need to tell you something. Bucky: I am listening. Violet: Okay. I’m saying it as it is. I have feelings for you. Bucky is typing... Stopped. Typing... Typing... Stopped... Typing... Typing... Typing... Typing... Typing... Typing... Typing... Typing... Typing... Typing... Typing... Typing... Typing... Typing... Stopped... After fifteen minutes of seeing the typing message, the reply she received was not even close to what she had imagined. If without the adrenaline coursing through her veins from excitement, she might have collapsed and fainted. Bucky: Look, I’m flattered. Seriously. Bucky: The wisest thing to do in a situation like this Bucky:would be to say, "I have feelings for you too," I know, but unfortunately, I don’t feel the same way. Bucky: But I’ll be here whenever you need me.

Violet didn’t remember what happened next. Everything had turned into a complete mess. After giving a simple response like, “Oh, really? Okay,” she had written a paragraph explaining why she liked him. She had also added a reminder of the time he had offered her money, saying, “For your golden heart.” In response, Bucky had written, “I used to be like you. I once fell in love with a girl and flew across the world on just plane tickets, only to watch her fall for another guy because he had money. You’ll lose this naivety over time, and it will be the best thing that ever happened to you, believe me. You’re not in love with me, Violet. You don’t even know me. We’ve communicated through writing far more than we have in the real world.”

Now, lying on the cold floor in a fetal position, sobbing and hiccupping, she didn’t even care that Pietro was reading through all of her message history. Everything was over. Her world had stopped. The only good thing in her life was gone forever. She wanted to confront Bucky and scream, “Why don’t you love me? Is it because I’m not tall, slender, and athletic? Is it because I’m not experienced enough to make a sex tape with you? Is it because I didn’t leave you for a more luxurious life and fly to the other side of the world like Yelena did?"

She had already forgotten about the boy standing over her with a towel around his waist, reading through all of her message history while ignoring the water dripping from his body onto the floor, but for Pietro, everything was just beginning. Bucky’s disgusting messages, his attempts to manipulate her… He reached the oldest messages. Bucky had written, “I just got back from the gym. I put in a lot of effort, but my mind is on you. I can’t seem to get you out of my head. Don’t worry, I’m not going to send you any nudes or anything, but I think we shouldn’t talk right now. I don’t want to do anything wrong. I might send that nude if we keep talking."

As Pietro’s stomach churned, he imagined hundreds of different ways to kill Bucky, who was playing with the girl like a cat with a mouse. For God’s sake! He had literally given her hope. Whenever Violet asked for more, he had confused her, using her lack of self-confidence to manipulate her.

He let go of the phone to avoid smashing it. He picked up the crying girl, who was howling on the floor like a wounded animal, and carried her to the bedroom. He could think of nothing but anger. He wanted revenge. He definitely wanted revenge, but more than that, the only thing he wanted was to shake Violet by the shoulders and scream, “I love you!” “I love you, do you understand? You don’t need anyone else! You don’t deserve to be played with by scraps of someone’s love. The only thing you deserve is to be overwhelmed with love!”

But he couldn’t do it. Instead, he lay down in bed with the girl who sought refuge in his arms and allowed her to continue crying, her tight grip leaving marks on his arm.

“Violet…” He rested his cheek against the girl’s hair.

Violet hiccupped, “Pie…” She couldn’t control her breath. “It hurts… so much,” she said, placing her fist over her heart. “I didn’t even know… my heart could hurt this much.”

Me neither, he thought. He wasn’t unfamiliar with this pain. He couldn’t decide which was worse: the sight of his true love crying for another man in his arms, or experiencing the same pain for someone else.

[thelightthatruins]

Have you been getting into Good Omens while I wasn't looking? 👀

I can't help but notice a slight influx in GO content in my dash ahihih

HOW DID YOU KNOW IT WAS ME—

(I say as if I didn't just reblog something Good Omens related today)

But yeah, I have!! I was going to tell you but it appears I have forgotten AGDJDG (I thought I already did but. I don't think so–). I finally caught up with the series on January and boy it was a personal rollercoaster for me /pos

Some of my friends may or may not have uh, witnessed how slightly emotional I got after the last episode of Season 2.

(I wasn't even sad, I just felt betrayed and broke into tears /lh /notneg)

BUT !!!

Do not let this fool you for these are Tears of Joy (well. not exactly occurring because of joy but they're not negative!)

Overall, I quite enjoyed the Good Omens experience. I thought it was a very fun show with solid writing;

The storyline wasn't too hard to follow and despite the Lore it has, it's not too heavy and honestly easy to digest. Light yet juicy.

It's labelled as a comedy television series and honestly I can see it. I enjoyed the humor the series has, I giggled and smiled a lot whilst watching it.

I found the characters to be very enjoyable and it was real fun to see how everyone interacted with each other. The dynamics everyone had felt natural and not forced to me.

By extension, the dialogues too! Flowed nicely imo, the actors did a great job in bringing their characters to life. Everyone was so entertaining lol (especially a certain Inspector in S2... iykyk)

ARGH SPEAKING OF CHARACTERS, AZIRAPHALE AND CROWLEY LIVES UP TO THEIR DYNAMIC DUDE... I love them as a duo and I love them as respective individuals!! They absolutely carried the show and did well as the two main leads, they are so so enjoyable and I loved every single screentime they had. Their bond is like?? so goddamn good??? so goddamn tasty?!?! Like you can simply feel the amount of care they have for each other even at times where it is not stated in front of you and how much they just. work so well with each other and I AM SO SICK OF THOSE TWO!!!! (/aff)

Also the Ineffable Husbands are such queerplatonic fruits to me and I absolutely fucking love that along with the fact that I am not alone on this train. They are literally qpr soulmates guys, it takes one to know one so listen to me listen to me—

But that is a discussion for another day ☝🏼💡

Ahem. anyways. THE INTERPRETATIONS!!! Heaven and Hell, the angel and the demons, The Four Horsemen— you name it dude. I just love how this show interpreted some of these things? I'm not going to spoil it for you just in case, but for example, The Four Horsemen of The Apocalypse... I liked how the show portrayed them, Pollution was my personal favorite.

I AM YAPPING... I'M SO SORRY, I DIDN'T MEAN TO LEAVE MY GOOD OMENS REVIEW ON YOUR ASK JSDBDJ

But simple TLDR: Good Omens is a good show!

Or at least in my opinion, to each their own! I personally found it rather charming and would definitely rewatch till I get bored of it. Would I recommend it to other people? Yes, actually! I'd tell you to give this silly little series a chance. I can't promise that you'd enjoy it 100% since, well, everyone has their own tastes. But I sure do hope it will at least entertain you positively.

[buttlicker-pige]

Gone Girl

Draco fanfic

Draco x reader

_________________

I was the “good girl” of the Slytherin house. No one ever expected anything from me, maybe a few weird looks but nothing extraordinary. I only had a small friend group who were Hufflepuff. “The hat chose wrong” one would say and “she’s an imposter” the other would comment when I was chosen into the house my first year.

My family wasn’t a known family in the wizardly world, but we were respected since we never made any chaos or had enemies. Even though I was a quiet and kept to myself, I had a secret I dare not tell. Once I had hit my third year is when the bullying happened. My family grew concerned when I came back for holiday with sharp cheek bones and skinny wrist from skipping meals to avoid my fellow Slytherins.

But, there was this one boy who never picked at me. We would exchange looks in the commons and he seemed to share an understanding with me.

My feet were warm in my hand made socks as I curled on the couch in the commons while everyone slept. Small snores and hums echoed from the boys and girls corridors while I just stared at the flame warming my pale skin. I didn’t dare to do this when everyone was awake but I had a weird comfort and contentment with the loneliness I had to adapt to.

“Why are you sitting here by yourself”

My head perked when the ragged voice spoke into the dimly lit living corridor. My eyes met with the icy eyes of Draco Malfoy. I didn’t know what to say, I just stared like a soldier who came back from war. I turned my head back to the fire place and thought up a reply as he came over and sat in the couch beside me. “I couldn’t sleep I suppose” my words came out low almost as a whisper compared to his demanding voice. He just hummed, his eyes still boring into my face making my cheeks flush embarrassingly. “If your—” it’s like he knew what I was gonna say as he shot his hand up.

“I’m not here to pick at you like the rest of ‘em. It’s pathetic really..—how you let them”

Those words sting harder than any other sentence that was muttered to me my 5 years of being at this cold castle like school. “I just want to graduate. I don’t care” I do care, I lied right into the fire burning. “Sure, yet you skip meals and I hear your cries at night” my face turned to a darker red as I looked the other way taking a breath before my eyes finally met his. “Why do you care?” He scuffed and shook his head, “you’re not like the others.” I rolled my eyes and threw my hands over my chest to cross my arms.

“You’re authentic”

I gulped deeply, as my lips pressed together. His words dug into my heart like he was using his bare hands squeezing it so I couldn’t breathe. I choked, making him chuckle.

That interaction led to us getting closer, and closer till I couldn’t breathe. The bullying stopped when people noticed how close we were. Malfoy introduced to me to all his friends immediately making me one of them.

___________________

I never understood how serious the situation Draco was in until he started distancing himself. One evening I was in Hogsmeade doing school shopping when I spotted Draco with his father. I gave him a small wave but he just stared at me…blankly before his father smacked his chest with his cane. I cringed when I seen it, dropped my head and continued to walk.

I sat upon the bridge a few miles from Hogwarts, sure I was out of bounds but I didn’t mind it. There was a party in the Slytherin commons and I never attended just went on my busy. My familiar was a rat, his name was Pedro. His grey fur blew against the wind as he laid on my lap.

The wind was crispy and pinched my skin as I looked down at the water watching the mermaids trying to lure me in. I would feel foot steps approaching me but I just stared at the ground as I watched long legs drape over the edge beside me. “Hello, love” my face flushed as I looked up at Draco’s feline eyes. “Evening” I nodded as I smiled softly and stroked Pedro. “Y/N, I have a confession” my heart dropped at those words. He was gonna tell me it was a dare to be my friend or how he was leaving the school. My heart jumped, I could throw up all my intestines with the next 3 words he said to me.

I love you.

I choked, my face went pale. I didn’t know what to say. I felt the same way, I can’t lie and say I didn’t. But only if he know…if he knew.

I felt cold hands grip my fingers taking me out of my thoughts. “Talk to my love, please” his eyes were pleading for reassurance. “Draco…I-i love you too” his face lifted up but I stopped him from saying anything else as my eyes glanced back to the mountains in front of us. “But, I would hurt you Draco.” He shook his head and gripped my chin forcing me to look at him. My body leaned forward. I gripped his thigh my body catching his so I wouldn’t fall into the mermaid infested waters but I knew he wouldn’t let me fall, Pedro squeaked and ran off into the fog.

“Hurt me y/n, break me I don’t care. I’ll still love you, I’ve lived for you the past 2 years. All I want is your love” his eyes were burning with passion and he spoke with pure confidence. My cheeks were puffed and red from his cold hands as I started stared wide eyed.

Small electric tendrils danced out of my skin kissing and zapping his skin. His hand jolted back, “y/n?” His eyes were giant saucers. I could feel the waterfall of tears riming from my eyes before I jumped up and ran back to Hogwarts with Draco yelling behind me.

That next morning everyone had to leave for holiday and would return back in February, but y/n didn’t return. Whispers went around the school, but more importantly Draco was left heart broken and he relived that night everyday. He didn’t judge her, and didn’t love her any less.

_________________

Once my family found out I was caught they decided to homeschool me for my sixth year. My heart beat for Draco and ached for him for all the next seasons till I became numb.

My face turned and twisted when I seen him with a blonde women in the paper and the next article was him…with the death mark. I don’t know who was this man in the paper but I wasn’t, my Draco Malfoy.

There was even an article and a missing persons column with a big picture of me. I shut the paper almost ripping it as I looked at my mother. “It’s time, y/n” I sighed deeply as I felt my blood running through my veins till they ran blue with electricity.

I had to go into hiding in the mortal realm for 3 more long years and put on the persona as a normal British Women working in a law firm. Once I hit 20 my parents contacted me asking for my return and how they miss me.

My heels clicked against the cobblestone, both hands on my brief case, and face hidden behind a cloak as I walked in the busy London train station. I came face to face with the famous wall that leads to the wizardly world. I took a deep breath before nodding my head down and walking though the portal.

My face lit up with my childhood memories, Hogwarts children bustled into the Hogwarts Express while anxious parents kissed and waved them bye. I kept low as I fast walked past all the parents some I recognized from my time at Hogwarts and others that were new faces to me.

I caught a train to Hogsmeade, and once I got there my heart fluttered when I seen it hasn’t changed at all. The street was dark and still was booming with shoppers. I held my wand tight in my hand has my feet hastily hit against the side walk dodging people and not making a scene to myself. I stopped in my tracts when I seen a tall building with a big head on top with ginger head, the Weasley twins. I smiled and ushered over before stopping at the steps and realizing I’m supposed to be dead to them.

I backed away turning around before I felt an arm intertwine with mine, “hello! Come on in!” I looked up at the familiar face, Fred Weasley. “No-no I’m good thank you!” I pulled my cloak tight around my face before quickly walking away making him stand there confused, shrugging, and going back into the shop.

Before I could come to a stop I ram into a hard chest. I caught myself before looking up, my cloak had fallen revealing my hair and pale face. “Watch—” my eyes met with the infamous icy eyes behind the mask. “Y/n?” My face dropped before I gripped my cloak and my ears turned red when I seen the mystic of magic police screaming behind me “Y/N STOP RIGHT NOW!”

I couldn’t even react before I was pulled into a near by ally way. “You’re supposed to be dead!” His rough voice screamed into my face as he gripped my wrist against his chest. “You don’t understand!” I cried back to him as I tried to pull away but the tight ally only pulled us closer. “I searched for you! I cried for you y/n!” He ripped his mask off revealing his sleepless eyes and small cuts along his jaw line. “I made a whole side of the paper for you! I…I got with a woman that I didn’t even love!” His voice cracked and choke as he said words his been waiting to say for years.

My tendrils zapped and kissed his skin like they did the last time we seen each other but this time he didn’t pull away. “I loved you before I knew about your power, and I’ve loved you even more when I found out but you ran from me, love. Why?” My eyes batted down but he gripped my face. His hands on either side of my face. “I didn’t wanna hurt you Draco” the tendrils wrapped around his wrist making small burns but he didn’t even flinch. “You leaving hurt more than small zaps” he scuffed before smashing his lips into mine.

I couldn’t help but give in. Our lips danced and fit together perfectly. Our kiss was hungry and angry.

“I’m here now.”

___________

This was my first story on tumblr! I hope you liked it i know it’s not the best 🙃!

[after-witch]

Pov Your Kindapper is

Dabi

Overhaul

Chrollo

He is the worst asshole but the food is good so.. 👌🏻

Dabi would be fine if you like your food extra crispy. That is a fire hazard, my man.

Overhaul's--the whatever it is in the middle looks like Mickey Ears. Sad ones. It's his attempt to make your lunch "cute" when you complain about it being the same every day.

I fully believe Chrollo would be an asshole about cute treats/food though. When I used to drink, I was obsessed with Barefoot Bubbly Pink Moscato Champagne Sparkling Wine because it was so sweet and delightful and bubbly and fun. But I can see Chrollo teasing about it, making you try richer stuff, less "fruity" I suppose, wanting you to ~taste the finer things. So when he does go all out and get you sweet treats, he expects you to be thankful about it.

At the same time, damn I'd be lured in by the good food. Let me finish telling you how horrible you are after I try this fresh caught lobster cooked in butter, dipped in butter...

[the-himawari]

A3! Tsukioka Tsumugi - Translation [SSR] Florist Blanc (3/3)

*Please read disclaimer on blog; default name set as Izumi

---

Izumi: It’s smells amazing.

Tsumugi: There’s table sets. I wonder if that means we can eat here?

Izumi: It looks like they have a morning menu.

Tsumugi: A toast and drink set… Sounds delectable, doesn’t it?

Izumi: Why don’t we grab a little bite to eat first? I got hungry from all the walking.

Tsumugi: Same here.

-pause-

Tsumugi: I’m digging in.

Izumi: The blueberry jam you got looks tasty.

Tsumugi: I’d like to try the strawberry jam as well. Why don’t we share halfsies?

Izumi: Thank you! …Mm~, yummy!

Tsumugi: Bread is the most delicious when it’s freshly baked. It’s crispy on the outside and fluffy on the inside.

Izumi: It sure was worth waking up early and coming all the way here.

Tsumugi: Shall we tell everyone else about this next time?

Izumi: Good idea!

-pause-

Tsumugi: We bought more than we expected, huh?

Izumi: Yeah, you get lured in by the smell at bakeries and end up wanting to take home a bunch of different things.

Tsumugi: I even got a souvenir when I thanked him for the flowers I received the other day.

Izumi: Now that we've had a chance to relax, let's hurry home before the other guys wake up.

Tsumugi: Ah. There’s a spot I’d like to stop by, if that would be alright?

-pause-

Izumi: Wow… it’s beautiful…

Tsumugi: I knew it would look absolutely dazzling in the morning light. When I passed this way on my way home from work the other day, I thought for sure it would look even more beautiful in the morning. We had just been talking about the bakery, so I figured I’d stop by here too.

Izumi: So that’s what happened.

Tsumugi: I also wanted to show this place to you too.

Izumi: Me?

Tsumugi: Well, you’ve been looking a bit down lately.

Izumi: Ahaha… you saw right through me, huh? It’s not that big of a deal, but the site I’m going to help out at starting today is famous for having a lot of troubles… I was a bit worried whether I would make a mistake or whether I would get along with the others on set…

Tsumugi: I see. …Please wait a moment.

*click*

Izumi: ?

*notification sound*

Izumi: Is this a picture of a camellia?

Tsumugi: In flower language, camellias mean “overcoming difficulties”. So, when you find yourself feeling tired, please take a look at that and remember this view and the delicious breakfast set we had. Perhaps you’ll feel a little lighter.

Izumi: I see… (When I look closely, the picture is a bit blurry… Classic Tsumugi-san.) Fufu.

Tsumugi: ?

Izumi: Thank you. I feel like I’ll be able to do my best today.

*notification sound*

Kazunari’s LIME: “Did y’all get the bread?”

Omi’s LIME: “Tsumugi-san, Director. Would you like fried eggs, scrambled eggs or omelettes?”

Izumi: It looks like everyone’s up now.

Tsumugi: Shall we hurry home?

Izumi: Lead the way!

---

previous |

[maysoulrose]

The Thief and The Moon chpt 1

You guys i’m doing it. I’ve been writing a fanfic about one of my skyrim oc’s and her relationship with Brynjolf because i’m a sucker for the man. I posted the first chapter on Fanfic . net if you’d rather read it there, but I’mma try and post here too!!!!!!!!!!! I finally finished enough chapters to where I feel like it could be at a stopping point, in case I take a long break or something, so here they come! I’ll try to link each chapter on every post for convenience sake!

here’s my story on the website of the fiction : @ maysoulrose

ALSO this whole thing started because I stumbled upon THIS STORY ABOUT FARKAS AND I’M DYING. it really inspired me to write my own.

it’s freaking steamy as HECK so get your eyeballs READY.

Chapter 1

“Pay up.” Brynjolf held out his hand in anticipation. The two guards at the front gate of Riften eyed each other. Bashfully, the one on the left scratched the back of his head before confessing.

“Sorry Brynjolf, the only person who came through today saw right past our scheme… and…”

“She scared the pants off of us!!!” the other guard burst out. Brynjolf gave his eyebrow a good raise.

“Really?” He folded his arms in thought.  “What did this person look like?” 

“Terrifying” The guard on the right said, followed by a smack on the back of the head by the other.

“He wants physical features, dimwit.”

“Oh. uh…” He collected his thoughts for a moment. “Tall, really long hair, like, super long. Dark elf… I… I think.” 

“... Fine.  But I expect payment later. Don’t mess the next one up.” Brynjolf jabbed the closest guard in the shoulder.

“Yessir” the two say in unison. Brynjolf swings open the giant gate and enters the city. 

It was just past midday. The market was gathering the usual attendees. Brynjolf scoured the crowd. No sign of this mysterious Dark elf. He had been meaning to find a new recruit or two for the guild and since she caught his little shake down, maybe this elf would be a good fit. She’s probably still here in the city since the guards hadn’t seen her leave. 

“Better take my usual spot at the snake oil counter and see if she shows.” He muttered to himself. He adjusted the quilted fine hat that sat atop his head and straightened out the matching tunic.  He felt a little uncomfortable in the getup he wore, for his merchant ploy to lure In a possible victim- I mean… Customer.. But it helped with the whole … ‘outfit.’

He leaned his hips against his booth and took in the crowd. Grelka was her usual angry self. Marise was over there, chiming about her crispy carrots.  Brand-Shei…  just waiting to be framed. 

“Where’s my little guinea pig…” he whispered. Balimund was working away at the forge. That one fisherman walked by, who definitely was having secret love affairs. He scoffed at the thought, then glanced back over toward the front gate.

An unfamiliar figure was making their way across the bridge and over the canal. That had to be her. Probably just coming from a visit to the town alchemist. 

Brynjolf ran through his mental list of introductions and tried to pick the best one for her as she approached the market. 

"Here we go."

His eyes traced her form from head to toe. She had a fur hood and covered most of her face with a scarf. A pouch of coin strapped around her waist. She definitely wasn’t afraid of showing a little skin. She wore a set of fur armor. Bare shoulders and arms with a thin strip of fur across her chest. Her hips draped with assorted pelts and skins. 

He continued his gaze downward… Through the fabric shifting as she walked,  Brynjolf got a glimpse of a dagger strapped to the inside of her thigh. Already promising to fit in with his crowd. 

The woman pulled back her hood, revealing a fountain of white hair, cascading down her chest and past her hips. A very small hint of purple shimmered off the waves when the sun hit it just right. 

“Wow. They weren’t kidding.” Brynjolf recalled the guard’s description of her. She then tugs on her scarf and tucks it under her chin. Brynjolf felt his heart twinge with excitement. 

She was beautiful. The closer she got, the more he felt himself entranced by her. She was elegant in the way she held herself. She was tall, and all of her features seemed to be just a bit longer than your average passer by.  Her skin is on the lighter side, for a dark elf, and a bit warm in tone. Almost purple, rather than gray.   A hint of pink revealed itself on her cheeks and the tip of her nose. Her skin seemed to have a velvet texture that shimmered like glitter. As if a diamond was crushed into pure dust and was sprinkled all across it.

By the time he realized he was gawking at her, she had caught his eyes. Hers were white, with only a hint of a pupil if you looked closely. Brynjolf snapped his jaw shut and approached her. 

"So… you're the little lady that sniffed out my scheme at the front gate."

The elf stopped in front of him; he had her full attention. 

It's a good thing he was skilled in the art of speech otherwise her otherworldly eyes might've made him stutter. 

"I admire how you were able to catch that shakedown, and even more with how you handled the situation."  He continued. "How about doing a little job for me, eh? Should be easy for a Lass like you." He paused for a moment, but she just kept her eyes on him. White lashes lining her lids. 

"... not much of a talker, I see." He clears his throat. "I have a bit of an errand to run, But need an extra pair of hands. And in my line of work, that extra pair of hands always gets paid. Handsomely." He waited for a response. 

She shifted her weight to the other side, extending out her leg slightly, and folding her arms. 

"I'm listening." Her voice was smooth and low, almost a whisper.  Brynjolf grinned at her response. 

"See that argonian over there?"

——��—————————————

"EVERYONE, EVERYONE!" Brynjolf stood at his makeshift booth, waving his arms. "Please! Gather 'round. I have an AMAZING new product." 

Everyone in the market groaned and shuffled over to him.

"What is it this time?" Brand Shei huffed.  Murmurs and eye rolls were plentiful among the onlookers. 

The mysterious elf watched the crowd and disappeared into it the moment everyone had their attention on the presentation. Quite literally it seemed. One moment Brynjolf was giving her the nod of approval, the next it was as If she never existed.

She slipped away, disappearing into wisps of shadowy smoke. The Argonian had left his booth, just as Brynjolf had planned. She tackled the lock of his cabinet and the Strongbox within. As expected, there lies a silver ring. Swiping the piece of fine jewelry, and softly closing the cabinet behind her, She made her way to Brand-Shei. 

The dunmer had sat his rump on a pile of crates next to a couple of barrels.  She reached an arm between two of them, just behind his back, and slipped the ring into one of his pouches.

Brynjolf continued on about his new "limb growing serum". He scanned the crowd, and almost jumped when he saw those moonlit eyes staring right at him, as if she had never left.

"Uh, that's all from me for today! Please! 20 gold per bottle. It'll change your life!" He shook around the tall potion container, appealingly. 

Once the crowd dispersed, he jumped down from his platform and approached the mystery woman. 

"Done without a hitch! You continue to impress.. Here's your share." He handed her a small pouch of gold, holding about 200 septims. She took the bag and dumped the contents into the satchel already on her hip.           

Just a few paces behind them, sounds of a guard promptly arresting Brand-Shei for the planted ring filled the air. Brynjolf took a step closer to the lady elf and lowered his voice. 

"Listen, if you're interested in doing more jobs like this, come meet me in the ratway. Just a test to see if you really have what it takes. We could use somebody with your skills." He smirks at her. 

She ponders the invitation for a moment and shuffles around her freshly filled coin purse. 

"Sounds like a deal~" flashing him a smile. 

Brynjolf exhaled a breath of relief. He was really hoping she'd say yes.

"Good on ya. Do you have a name?" He asks. It takes her a moment to respond, like she's considering if she should trust him with it.

"... Allustria." She whispers with her alluring voice. Brynjolf smiles.

"Fitting"

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5 | chapter 6 | chapter 7

read it on the fanfiction site

[jaxfromthatcircus]

how to murder someone

Lure your victim into a secluded area with your charm

Tell them to close their eyes

Immediately stab them 23 times

Put the body in a trash bag

Find a building

Go to the roof top and throw it as hard as you can

Need a knife? You can always ask me!!!

-sincerely, @crispycrittercreep

"Thanks Crispy, that's gonna be reeeally useful soon.... And I'm not gonna ask why this is so specific"