#green mountain grill

[thisisntthegeorgeyourelookingfor]

It turned out pretty ok.

[kibibarel]

I like the idea that Arven got his friends into cooking and they like sending him pictures of their meals for him to judge. Nemona has 0 skill at it. She’ll put her heart and soul into it, but she’s the type of person who’d make you a PB and J and somehow something is burnt. Penny on the other hand finds the most disturbing recipes she can and makes it. At this point Arven can’t tell if she genuinely has terrible taste buds or if she’s that dedicated to messing with him.

i love this. i think Penny would make every recipe in the Mountain Dew Cookbook

[smokedbbqco1]

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[strange-dreams-are-made-of-these]

Playing Games With This Old Heart

Summary: You need to make cash fast after losing your job. After stumbling on a job, you can't help but to think about your first customer. And he can't get you out of his head.

Warnings: no smut, no fluff, still MDNI as this will be a planned series, canon typical violence, hints of death of a loved one (prior to story), animal death (bear), angst, Female Mutant!Reader with regenerative healing factor.

A/N: It's been two years since ive poste dont his account, so i hope you guys wont hold that against me. Please take this sample of a fic with our favorite X-Man.

Word Count: 4.7 k words

The days were shifting between the long summer heat and a cooler breeze as the leaves started to change from their usual green and full thick coverings to reds, yellows, and browns before leaving their life-sustaining tree and falling to the ground. There was something subtle about the sound of leaves crunching under ones footstep that somehow felt calming. The ground around your home was littered with the fine needles of the Douglas Fir trees that had a very distinct pine smell to them. It was a welcoming smell for you, having lived the majority of your life in rural Montana, the fresh smell of pine felt like home.

The colorful coat of the Maine Coon cat you owned stood out against the green throw blanket placed on the couch, the place he dubbed his spot. His name was Felix and he had been your fury best friend of nearly six years now. He showed up one day on your doorstep when it was raining with his mother. Not knowing much about cats, but knowing they were hungry, you couldn't help but open the last can of tuna you had in your pantry, draining it of its liquid before setting it out for the mother and son cats to eat. His mother trusted you enough to leave her son with you before leaving, never to be seen again. You often wondered what happened to the little minx of a feline, though you were happy to assure her you could take care of her baby.

"Okay, Felix. I'm going into town. Don't miss me too bad while I'm gone, okay?" You chuckle a little watching him as he stretches out, adjusting your jacket in the process. With keys in hand, wallet in your warm coat, and a fully charged phone, you left your home. Your next-door neighbor was only five miles away, as was his other neighbor. The only thing you had to worry about here were bears, mountain lions, and wolves showing up unannounced during meal times. Thankfully the only time you spotted any of the three was during their migration journeys at quite the distance from your porch to the open land headed out toward the lake where they could get their fill of fresh fish and other small creatures that dwelled there.

You kept your distance, you respected their space, and in turn, they stayed away from you. Just how it should have been.

Hoping into your truck, an old one of your father's, you kick it into gear and leave your driveway. The roads were bumpy as the broken rock and dirt shifted under the weight of the truck, bouncing you a little as you made the drive into town. There were a few things you needed to make it through the week: gasoline, and a refill of your water containers. One was used for cooking and drinking, one was used for bathing, and the third was the backup. Being out in these parts, you had to prepare for the unthinkable. Trees block major routes to give supplies, unpredictable weather, and supply shortages.

Another thing you would have liked to get was a fresh cut of meat for dinner. Depending on what was at the store would determine the dinner in store for you. Grilled fish? sounded nice. A steak could have been as equally nice to eat.

Though, there was another reason for your outing today. Since Mr. Kirkwood had sold his farm, you had been out of a job and had been running low on funds. You had to find a job today, any job. Anything that would provide you cash for hard work to continue to provide for yourself and Felix. Stocking shelves at the only grocery store in town? Perfect! Cutting down trees for the logging company? You're the girl for the job, nevermind you have never cut a vertical tree before, only when they were already grounded.

You just needed any job, one that you can continue to live your life.

--

Parking the truck, you walked to the bed, picking up the water containers, two in one hand and the third in the other. Thankfully there had been a man coming out of the store, seeing your hands full he held it open for you. You thanked him, recognizing him as one of your father's old co-workers. You nodded to each other, letting him go back to his day as you entered the door.

"There she is, I was wondering when you would be coming back. I hadn't seen you in a few days," came the beckoning voice of the store's owner, Mr. Morgan. He was almost like an uncle to all of the younger people in town, being about thirty-five and younger. You were toward the older end of his infinite nieces and nephews, though he would swear you were his favorite.

"I was able to get an extra day or two in on my stock. I call that quite the accomplishment."

"Did you make it last longer, or did you go without longer than usual?" He questioned you, peering over his glass at you as you set the water containers down. He knew what your current situation was, but at the end of the day, he still had a business to run. "I can't do anything for you today until you pay your tab." He was serious, but he had a little glint in his eye as if letting a loved one down.

You looked at him, your once welcoming face now placid. "Mr. Morgan, please. You know I'm good for the money." you fished around in your jacket, pulling out the last thirty-seven dollars and change you had. You knew it wouldn't cover your tab plus what you needed, but you also knew he had a business to run. "I just need a little more time. And some supplies. Please."

It was a plea, a simple one. Though you knew he was the holder behind how the rest of your week was going to go. "I'll stock shelves for you to pay the rest of my tab. I'll scrub the floors with a toothbrush. I'm willing to work."

He took his glasses off, looking at the cash in front of him. He didn't want to see anybody struggling, but he couldn't ignore his debts. He shuffled the money around, taking thirty dollars for himself and handing you the seven dollars and change back. "I can't afford to add anybody else to my payroll, or else I would. You can have one water refill, a full tank of gas, and some cat food. Nothing more."

You stared at him, lips parted as if to protest the money exchange, but the sound of the bells chiming against the door flooded those thoughts. You reached for the cash, scooping the change into your hand. All you could muster was a simple "Thank you." Moving the water containers to the side, you placed two of the containers into the designated area, then took one to the refill station, and filled the water container.

You had to figure something out and fast.

--

A newly filled water container was placed in the truck bed, a full tank of gas in your truck, and a sack of wet and dry cat food sat on the passenger floorboard. Looking around the small main street of the town where ninety percent of the town's businesses resided, you decided to leave your truck where it was. You were on the hunt for a job, and you were damn determined to find employment by the end of the day.

You used your side view mirror to make sure your hair looked fine, adjusting the collar of your jacket and shirt, you straightened up peering back at the main street. The best way to start job hunting was to start at the end of the street and work your way back down, entering every business you spotted. The good thing about small towns was all you needed was to name-drop a couple of people, resumes didn't hold up well.

The bad thing about small towns was that everybody needed work. Store owner after store owner denied your requests. The pawn shop wasn't looking for new employees, the liquor store had too many employees as is, and the antiquities store only hired their family members. The options were dwindling down, and soon you were nervous you were going to have to find a creative way to make money or even worse, entertain the thought of being a lot lizard.

The only two businesses left were the diner on the right side of the street and the motel at the end of the road. Either of them could have positions open, yet they could also deny you a job opening. You had to hope they had an opening somewhere, knowing you were not creative enough to make and sell items for cash. You didn't own many items to sell, beyond the couch, a cot you used to sleep on, and the few little trinkets you received when her father died. The most expensive item you owned was more than likely the truck, and selling it would mean nearly desertion at your home.

Without another thought, you crossed the street as a logging truck passed in front of you. You made some eye contact with the driver, making sure you waited until he drove in front of you before crossing the street.

As you pushed open the doors of the diner, a woman ten years your senior greeted you. "Have a seat wherever you want, sweetheart."

You crossed the room, taking a seat in front of her as she cleaned the counter space. "I know you are busy, and I don't want to take up too much of your time. I'm looking for a job. Mr. Morgan told me you might have something open here?"

The woman looked up from her work, eyeing you down after you mentioned Mr. Morgan. Her ginger curly hair cascaded down her shoulders as she shifted her weight. "Mr. Morgan, huh?" It was hard to tell by her expression, but she seemed to be thinking about something.

The door opened again, and a young blonde woman entered appearing slightly disheveled as if she had just woken up. "I'm here, Rebecca."

The woman in front of you, Rebecca as you read the name tag, turned her body toward the younger woman, then looked to the clock. She placed one hand on her hip. "Only two hours late." She looked between you and the woman, a mischievous look in her eyes. "I told you, show up on time or don't show up at all."

The blonde woman huffed a little, crossing her arms. "It's not like anybody else wants this job."

Rebecca smirked, walking around the counter toward the woman. "Actually she does." She was quick to snatch the apron from the blonde woman. "Clean your uniform and have it dropped by the end of the week, then you will get your check." She then tossed the apron to you, catching it effortlessly.

The blonde huffed, storming out of the diner and throwing a couple of curses in the air. "Your shift starts now. Take a menu, and study it between customers. Orders go to Big Ben. Don't ask us why we call him that and don't make any eye contact. Burgers are made to order, the soup of the day is Italian wedding, and you can give me your jacket."

Her orders came quickly as you stood up, removing your jacket and tying the apron around your waist. There had been a little notebook in the apron and a pen, thankfully saving your ass as you wrote down the notes she gave you. The doorbell rang again, the older woman looked at you with a questionable look. That was your cue, time to work. "Take a seat wherever you want." You nodded, taking a menu in your hands and walking up to your first-ever customer.

--

As his boots made contact with the ground below him, the man took a moment to adjust his shoulders, rolling them a couple of times as he stretched. He could have sworn the truck cabs were getting smaller and smaller, almost feeling his head touch the rooftop. At least he could rest comfortably during his lunch break. He had contemplated having a liquid diet for lunch paired with a cigar, but the smell of greasy burgers filled his nostrils. Tucking the keys of the truck in his vest pocket, Logan walked toward to diner.

He passed by an unruly blonde woman, muttering under her breath about being fired barely filling his ears. He persisted in, entering the diner. Not looking up, he heard the greeting offered to him, hearing two different footsteps filling the diner. One was the small heels clicking against the tile floors. The other was boots muffled against the tile. A small pair of hands moved to set a menu down in front of him, along with what looked like one single-ply napkin and a fork. "What can I get started for you?"

Logan still hadn't looked up yet, looking at the laminated two-sided menu in front of him. "Coffee." He blurted, though wishing he could have an iced beer with his food. The woman left his table, rounding the counter and finding the coffee pot and cups. A minute may have passed by as he scanned the menu. He wasn't that much of a picky eater, as long as it used to have a heartbeat, he was fine.

The mug was set down in front of him, steam rolling off the black liquid. "I'll have the cheeseburger and fries." He picked up the menu, handing it back to the waitress. That was when he finally turned to look at her, remembering her as the woman who crossed the street behind him. She didn't seem to be dressed for work, not like the other woman who was behind the counter now fiddling with some dishes.

"You got it." She left the table, and walked over to the window, setting a ticket in the designated space that the other woman told her about. His hand wrapped around the mug in front of him, looking outside as he silently observed the town. He was in this stretch of land only long enough to get him enough cash to figure out his next move. He didn't like to stay in the same place too long, maybe a year or two at most. He didn't mind the small circles running in this part of the state, but he knew that if he wanted to go somewhere else he would have to figure it out soon before the snow moved in.

What felt like ten minutes had passed before the woman came back, setting his plate in front of him. "Can I get you anything else?"

He shook his head, brushing her off. As she left, she could smell a strong scent of pine around her, as if she herself was a pine tree. It wasn't a disheartening smell, something he actually liked.

Another set of diners came in, sitting a few booths behind Logan. As he ate his food all he could hear was her voice, despite there being a total of seven beings in the diner he could hear. Somehow her voice was the loudest in his mind. Not the heartbeats of the seven people, not his heartbeat, not her heartbeat. Her voice.

As he finished the food in front of him, she walked over to him, leaving his ticket and grabbing the empty plate. "Do you want a cup for the road?"

He reached into his vest pocket, pulling out a billfold. "Yeah, sounds good."

She returned with his to-go coffee, handing it over to him as he left cash on the table, adjusting his shirt collar. "Here, let me get your change."

"Keep it." He walked out of the diner, making a bee-line for his truck, fighting everything in him to talk to her again. Little did he know, that wasn't going to be their only interaction for the day.

--

The daylight began to dissipate, street lights were turning on and the neon signs from the only bar in town began to glow. Rebecca presented to you with a powder blue uniform dress. The diner and the employees looked as if they hadn't left the fifties, just as the regular customers liked to relive. "You did good, peanut. The job is yours. Your next shift is tomorrow, Nine to five, be here no less than ten minutes before clocking in tomorrow. I'll have some shoes for you. Can't have my girls in boots for service."

You took the uniform and hanger, nodding. "Yes ma'am."

Rebecca giggled a little. "Oh darlin', I'm no ma'am. You can call me Becky."

Parting ways with your new manager, you left the diner, uniform in hand and some tips in your apron. You couldn't help but think about the first customer you had that day, a man appearing around your age, how quick your interactions were, but how he almost seemed disinterested in interacting with you. Was it possible he was a regular of the blonde woman? He paid his bill, he tipped you, and you went on about your day. That was all you could ask for.

Returning to your truck still parked in front of the grocery store, you set your items down in the cab. Peering to the bed of the truck, you huff as you realize your water container is missing. At least the thief had the balls to leave your empty gas container. Mr. Morgan's place was closed for the night, so you would have to swing by the store after work. "Cowards." you hum to yourself, getting in the truck and turning over the engine.

Returning home, you fed Felix with the food you acquired today. Becky made sure you had something to eat as well before you left the diner, though Big Ben had made a comment about it. This only solved three of your problems for the day. You still needed to wash up, and without the water container, you only had one choice.

The easiest thing would be to take a bucket to the lake and boil the water before using it to wash up. Not thinking clearly either, you left the house without any type of protection, knowing you were just getting water and heading back to the house. The only light you had to help you was the half-moon above you.

Unknown to you, the man from the diner had followed you home, wondering what you were up to. He wished he could understand what was happening, but your voice was all he could hear and focus on the rest of the day. His truck was parked in the woods opposite your home, and he stood in the tree line listening to the orchestra of insects and animals around the both of you. Foxes howled in the far distance, deer were settling in for the night. But there was another predator within the vicinity, one unbeknownst to you.

You kneeled down to fill the metal bucket with water, you were being watched by a wolverine and a black bear. A bear looking for its next meal, and a wolverine searching for answers, only to find more problems in his way.

The grunt of the bear finally caught your attention. It had been nearly twenty feet in front of you, standing on a rock as it discarded the fish carcass in its claws. He smelled bigger game, and his blood lust was all he could focus on.

Leaving the bucket still in the water, you slowly stood up, keeping your hands to your sides. It stayed on its rock, turning toward you. It must have been fully grown, which spelled danger for you. Black bears did not care and would defend themselves to the death, even if it was not threatened.

Seconds felt like minutes as the bear finally stood up, roaring before falling to all fours and darting toward you. There was no way you could outrun a bear, let alone rely on your home to defend you. Laying down now meant instant death for you. Climbing trees was out of the question.

Your heart pounded in your chest with every footfall, knowing the longer you thought about survival, the more your chances diminished.

The bear caught up to you, pinning you down and tossing you around. Your screams filled the space of the open field around you. Claws tore into your skin and clothes as you felt warm blood escape your body.

Snikt

The bear roared out, turning its attention away from you to something else, attacking it. The sounds of two animals tousling with each other filled the air, but after one minute, the bear grew quiet, a distinct thud was heard as its body fell to the ground.

Something rushed up to you, and before you could react, you felt human hands touching your body. "No, no, no."

You looked up to see the man from the diner hovering over you as his knees collided with the ground next to you. His face was bleeding, but as you watched him, you saw his wounds close and heal within seconds. Almost just like...

He observed you, looking at where your wounds were.

Or used to be.

You sat up, scooting away from him a little. Breathing heavily, the both of, you looked at his tattered clothes and blood stains. yet there was an absence of wounds. "What are you?" You asked hurriedly.

He stared at you, his eyes dancing the same tango where your wounds used to be. "I could ask you the same." He ran a hand over his hair before standing up. He offered you a hand, however you didn't take it. Brushing yourself off from the dirt.

"Nothing happened here, okay?"

Logan turned toward you as he watched you walk back to the lake, picking up the bucket of water.

You realized what you said sounded harsh, and that wasn't your nature. Closing your eyes briefly, you look back at the man. "I have some clothes in my house. I can at least give you something to replace those."

He watched you begin walking toward the cabin you called home. Taking a moment, he decided to follow in your footsteps, quickly matching your pace to walk with you. "I saw you get attacked by that bear. I can see the blood." His eyes scan over your back, where layers of clothes are torn. Not just your jacket, but your shirt, and an undershirt.

You swung open the door of your cabin after walking up the little set of stairs on your porch. "Not to sound like a broken record, but, I can ask you the same."

After both of you were in the cabin, you set the bucket down next to the woodfire stove, pulled some of the water into a pot, then set it on the surface of the stove to boil the water. You then opened up a door, the only closet space in your cabin. There was a box labeled Dad's clothes written in neat handwriting. You pushed it out to the side, then grabbed two jackets. "Here, pick out what you want."

He looked at you, unsure of the idea. There was more to ask now, and he wasn't so sure where to start. He watched as you moved around in the cabin, picking up a little bowl and scooping its contents into a bowl. He could smell the cat, but not see it. He looked around, wondering where it was.

You observed his behavior, wondering what he was doing. Clearing your throat, you took a stab in the dark. "His name is Felix. He doesn't like strangers. If I had to guess, he is on my bed, or under it."

He smirked a little, knowing his suspicion had been confirmed. He approached the box, opening it to look at the different shirts and pants inside.

You observed him, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned against the wall. "Why are you out here?" You were thankful he showed up when he did, knowing you didn't have many defenses against the bear beyond how you healed.

Instead of giving a bullshit answer or response, he turned to look at you, a gray flannel in hand. "I was just passing through." He lied.

You shook your head, eyeing him as you lowered an eyebrow. "No, you didn't. Nobody passes through this place." Sighing a little, you felt a tug in your back. "Look, I've had a somewhat normal life here, have my entire life. I don't really have anything else to go to, or the drive to go anywhere else. I'll tell you what I can do, and I can answer any questions you have. Then we can part our separate ways. Sound like a deal?"

Logan stood up, tossing the flannel over his shoulder. He held his hands up to his sides, shrugging his shoulders. "I won't complain." He didn't know where this would lead him, but the thought of getting some answers meant his trip wouldn't be wasted.

Nodding, you rolled the sleeve of your torn jacket up, exposing the lower part of your arm to him. you pulled one of the logs out of the stove, holding the unburned end in your hand. The other side was on fire. You held your arm out in front of you, then pressed the fire to your skin, doing your best to stifle the groans from the injury. Pulling the log away, the third-degree burn healed almost instantly as tissue, muscles, and skin grew back together. After showing him the display of your power, you put the log back in the stove. "I was never sick as a child. injured that should have resulted in broken bones never bothered me."

Logan watched you burn yourself and then heal almost instantly. He hadn't met anyone before who had the same healing rate as he did. What were the odds of meeting another mutant out in the middle of nowhere Montana?

"Can I show you what I can do?" He asked, watching your every moment with precision. As he watched you nod, he moved his right hand to cross in front of him. Slowly, the sound of moving metal filled the air as three long knife-like appendages emerged between his knuckles. You stared in a mix of awe and confusion. He smirked, then sliced the pad of his left hand, showing you his own healing rate.

What caught him off guard was how you began to approach him, though it was a slow approach. On instinct, he retracted his claws, the spaces where they had once been healing up. "Does it hurt?" You ask him, rubbing your own knuckles where the blades would have been.

He didn't know how to feel, knowing that the two of you were just strangers passing in the night. "Every damn time." His voice was above a whisper, as if afraid the tone of his voice would break the sound barrier.

Silent moments passed between the two of you, tension filling the air. He couldn't stand it anymore as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. "I should really get going," he spoke, stepping around you. Dazed little you finally felt you weren't the only one anymore.

You turned around to face him as he approached your door. "You know, I have a shift at the diner tomorrow. Maybe you'll happen to forget your lunch and have to stop by the diner?"

He should say no. He should be grabbing his things and heading out of town as quickly as possible. He should put this place in his rearview mirror and forget anything that happened there. But the drum of your heartbeat spoke bigger volumes than his brain did.

"We'll see." He nodded, thanking you silently with a gesture of the shirt before leaving your cabin, and walking toward his truck. He needed out of there as quickly as possible. Another moment with you could have sent him into a coma. How beautiful you smelled, how kind you were. Even though you were quick to block him earlier and run away, you still let him into your home and offered him a simple reward for saving your life.

It was almost too intoxicating to think about. And the promise of tomorrow could never come any sooner.

[everybodyshusband]

@moony-ghoul’s post got me thinking about a farm au where the ghouls live in a big farmhouse in the countryside :3

they grow crops in the fields and have a herd of cows, a herd of sheep up in the nearby hill, horses in the stables and a big ol’ chicken coop. they make their living by selling their milk/butter/eggs to the nearby town and every day dew is up before the sunrise to milk the cows. he and mountain pass each other and share a quiet, sleepy conversation and a kiss when they pass each other on their way to their respective tasks (dew to the barn for the cows, and mountain to the stables to ready the horse and cart for his daily milk run)

aeon has a soft spot for the chickens so rain and cirrus are teaching him how to take proper care of them. he was entirely horrified when he first learnt that he needs to feed the chickens their own eggshells along with their regular pellets and kitchen scraps

aurora has a soft spot for the sheep. she’d stand up on the hill and watch them for hours if she could. she trained the sheep dog herself and everyone calls her “little bo peep” whenever they see her coming back down to the house. sunshine bought her a shepard’s staff as a joke but aurora LOVES it and refuses to visit her sheep without it

since aeon’s taken over the chickens, rain decided the farm needed bees and now he’s got a few hives going. they sit just outside the kitchen windows so whoever’s working in their can open the window and hear the gentle hum of the bees while they cook. cirrus helps rain harvest the honey when it needs it and they both take great pride in the labels they designed. they’re working hard to convince mountain to take some of their jars on his milk cart rounds to see if he can sell some in town

aether’s a horse girlie <3 he grooms them well and makes sure their coats are shiny and pretty and that they’re all healthy enough to be pulling the farm machinery in the fields

sunshine’s self-imposed daily talk is going around the farm making sure everything has water. that includes the animal’s water bowels/troughs and that the collection of houseplants, the vege garden and the fruit orchid. she has a collection of watering cans but her green one with flowers painted on it in her favourite

swiss works the dairy room. he takes the milk from dew in the mornings and keeps some as milk (making sure he’s run it through a milk separator before he bottles it), some he churns for butter and some he sets aside to turn into cream

cumulus loooooves the wheat field <3 if no one knows where she is, the first place they look is there. she finds it calming to stand in between the furrows and watch everything sway in the wind. she’s the one who drives the battered old truck down to the flour mill a few hours away and brings back bags filled with soft flour (she sells most of it, but keeps a few bags for the farm so they can use their own flour in their baking)

speaking of baking and cooking, they all share the responsibilities of the kitchen depending on who’s done what that day but they all have things that they’re the go-to to make it. cumulus and her breads are renowned throughout the land (no seriously, she’s had people come to the farm asking to buy her bread) and she gets so much joy from carving little designs into her sourdough loaves and seeing how they turn out once they’re baked. cirrus is the BEST at making omelettes and she has a special knack for knowing which eggs will have double yolks in them. rain is surprisingly good at barbecuing/grilling and cooks roasts fantastically well with the perfect seasoning and melt-in-the-mouth deliciousness. aether the king of baking will bake so many sweet treats and they’re all soooo tasty and addictive. he’s mastered almost everything but they got a new stand mixer for their kitchen and he has No Idea how to work it so he mixes everything by hand. luckily, aurora knows exactly how it works so sometimes she and aeth will tag-team in the kitchen to make things faster. they also love decorating things together and aurora is fantastic at plating their dinners up so elegantly. aeon can cook curries and rice and that’s IT but no one else can get the rice cooked quite as well as they can, so no one’s really complaining. dew and mountain are the best at cooking warm comfort meals and soups in the winter so if neither of them are busy and someone is in need of a little extra cheering up, they’ll make the person’s favourite comfort meal to keep their spirits up and remind them of how much they’re loved. swiss and pizzas OH MAN. he can do all the fancy spinning tricks with the pizza dough and they always come out of the pizza oven (he and aurora only finished building it a few weeks ago) perfectly cooked through. he loves preparing pizza nights for everyone where he’ll prepare the dough and toppings on the massive kitchen table and let everyone roll their own dough and choose their own toppings before he puts them all in the oven and calls everyone to their meal when it’s ready. sunshine is the queen of soups and salads. she can whip together a soup or a salad out of practically thin air and they’re always so tasty and pair perfectly with whatever else is being made for dinner that night

they all help out with everything (both in the kitchen and with tasks around the farm) especially when it’s time to harvest the fields and it’s all hands on deck to get everything done, but in my mind these are their main tasks/favourite things to do around their little country farm <3

[rjmartin11]

Hide and Go Seek One Shot

Pairing: Elvis & female!reader

Summary: Elvis had been away from you for far too long, and you want to play with him in more ways than one.

Word Count: ???

Warnings: Material is not suitable for under 18 years of age. Viewer discretion is advised!

Author's Notes: Hello, world. RJ here. I'm just passing through with a one-shot that's been on the shelves of my mind for a while. I'm retired from writing, but I wanted y'all to have this. Something dirty. Enjoy.

・ʚ♡ɞ・・ʚ♡ɞ・・ʚ♡ɞ・・ʚ♡ɞ・

It's been a full thirty-five days since Elvis left on his cross-country tour, and you missed him deeply. Even though he calls every few days to let you know where he is and how the shows are going, you need him around. His physical presence keeps you humble.

Although you have your hands full with a one year old baby boy. You want his daddy around to play with both of you. You feel like Elvis would have missed his first steps if he didn't walk in through the door that very moment.

He called you last night stating that he'd be home today. You haven't truly slept since the call. It only mattered that baby boy had rest, so he could play with daddy. You made sure he was fed and bathed.

You started cooking immediately for your weary traveler and his band of soldiers. All of Elvis' favorite dishes were to be made with exceptions. Fried chicken, barbecue chicken on the grill, potato salad, mustard greens, mashed potatoes with Smoky Mountain gravy, black-eyed peas, macaroni and cheese, cream onion casserole, and cornbread. For dessert, banana pudding, sweet potato pie, and Ms. Mary's chocolate cake.

You scrambled all over the kitchen with Ms. Mary and Ms. Nancy came in to help with the load. You worked a full six hours in preparation for your love to come home to a great meal. You knew the meals on the road consisted of junk food, so this had to be special.

As you started to slow down a bit, Ms. Nancy asked you to go upstairs and rest. You didn't want to fall asleep on Elvis, so you did as asked and slept for a few hours.

"Mama???" You hear his little voice from down the hall and open your eyes. "Mama???"

You rub the sleep out of your eyes and head to his room. You creep slow around the corner as you hear him continue to call your name. You peek your head in the door, and he starts to giggle. Your son has his daddy's contagious gift of laughter.

"Is that my little Garon?" You ask.

"Mama!" He says with excitement in his voice.

"Hi, Mama's baby boy. Mama's handsome baby boy," you say, taking him out of his crib.

You get him ready for the day, and you both head downstairs. The ladies have taken care of dinner just as promised. You hand Garon off to his Great Aunt Delta and Great-Grandma Dodger so you can finish getting dressed for Elvis' arrival. You take a quick shower and get your hair and makeup ready for him. You want to look irresistible for your love.

As you put the final touches on mascara, you hear a big commotion downstairs.

"Daddy's home," you say to yourself, finishing up.

You run out of the room and to the staircase just in time to see Elvis look up at you. His smile lights up the room, and your glows.

"Hello, Mrs. Presley," he says, greeting with Garon in his arm.

"Hello, my husband," you reply, walking down the stairs.

He walks up to you with his free arm open to you. You embrace him gently as your son is in his other arm. He kisses your head and whispers he missed you. You tell him how much you miss him and how glad he's home.

Everybody crowded into the kitchen to get a plate. You made Elvis' and Garon's plates first, and then everyone piled in for their plate. Ms. Nancy made you a plate, so you sit and eat.

For the next thirty to forty-five minutes, the house was alive with laughter and conversation. Everyone talking about the tour and their adventures on the road.

"All in all," Elvis starts, "it was an amazing trip. This tour was great. Now, I'm just grateful to rest for the next three months."

"Rest? My husband wants to rest?" You ask.

"Yes," he answered. "Traveling around the country is fun, but I wanna rest."

"I guess you can wait on that surprise I have for you," you whisper in his ear.

"Surprise??? Baby, you didn't have to get me anything."

"I wanted to," you say, kissing his cheek. "Get rid of the boys and come find me upstairs."

You pick up Garon and walk toward the door. You bid everyone good night. Your sister drops by and takes Garon home with her, so you and Elvis can have Graceland all to yourselves.

You go upstairs and wait for him on the bed. You waited six months, so another fifteen to thirty minutes wouldn't hurt.

You peek out the window as everyone leaves out the front door, piling into their cars. Elvis tells everyone goodnight and thanks them for everything. He turns and looks up at the window. He sees you staring back at him and smiles the notorious smile of his. You bite your lip and close the curtain.

Seconds later, he's up in the room looking at you sitting on the bed.

"My pretty little Satnin. How I've missed you," he whispers as he crawls on top of you.

"I missed you, E," you whisper back.

He starts passionately kissing. You start slipping your fingers in his hair as he does so, kissing him back. You've longed for this moment for six, dreaded long months.

You roll yourself on top of him and push yourself off of him. You stand in front of him and begin to undress. Elvis watches in awe of you. As you slip out of your panties, cock begins to tent in his pants.

"You missed me, E?" You ask.

"Can't you tell?" He asks back.

"Then why are your clothes still on?"

Without another thought, Elvis starts to unbutton his shirt and undo his belt. Pulling his pants down off of his hips, disposing them to the floor. His cock sits up long and hard before you. All the things you want to do his penis. All the things you've longed to do to his penis.

You bow in front of Elvis. Not allowing him to wait another moment to start to suck him off at the head of his cock. His head falls back, and he moans your name. You only do this for a few seconds until you get off of your knees. You gently climb on top of him until you both are face to face, kissing one another. Elvis rubs your back. Followed by your ass. Then, he slides his fingers in between your legs to your vaginal lips, gently stroking your clitorus. You indulge in the feeling a moment.

Then Elvis pumps his cock a few times, attempting to penatrate you. You stop him and whisper,

"I wanna play a game."

"What?" Elvis asks confused.

You crawl off of him, standing before him and repeat,

"I. Wanna. Play. A. Game."

Elvis, reluctant to your quips, answers you as he gently strokes the throbbing in his dick.

"What kind of a game, Y/N?"

"Hide and Go Seek. In the house. Naked."

Elvis, wide eye, pops his head up to look at you.

"A... w-what? Hide and seek in the house naked?" He answers.

You nod your head enthusiastically. The smile never leaves your face. You squeeze your legs at the thought of him catching you. It makes you wet.

"Y/N, baby. Garon? What if he needs us?"

"He's with his aunt. He'll be with her for the rest of the night."

"Mary? Nancy?"

"I gave them the night off. They helped me cook your welcome home dinner. They earned it."

"Dodger? Aunt Delta?"

"E, everyone is gone. Graceland is all ours for the evening. Surprise."

Elvis smirks to you with that infamous smirk that makes your heart gallop, your knees quiver, and pussy drips. Elvis sits up on the bed, looking at you like he could eat you alive.

"You have twenty seconds to hide before I stuff my dick so far up your pussy they hear you scream on Beale Street," Elvis says.

"That's only if you can catch me," you laugh, running out the door and down the stairs.

"One!" Elvis shouts, standing from the bed.

"Two! Three!" He continues to shout.

Elvis gets quiet as he starts searching the house for you. He walks downstairs, allowing the soft carpet to massage his bare feet. He quietly looks in the living room, and he even takes the extra steps to see if you're hiding in the music room. He'd love to fuck you on top of the piano.

He walks into the dining area and checks under the table. He makes way into the kitchen, silently searching for you. He rubs the ache in his dick, begging for a release only you can prove.

"Y/N?" He calls out to you. "Oh, Y/N. Where are you?" He asks.

He walks towards the Jungle Room, but there's still no sign of you. It doesn't make him mad. It only makes him want you more. He so enjoys the chase.

"Oh, you are so good at this, Y/N," he says. "I'm going to find you, and I'm going to fuck you so hard that you'll be begging me to stop."

You start to giggle but quietly move downstairs. Elvis heard you and ran to the sound of your voice.

"Baby, no cheating now. If you left the house, that's cheating. You want the public to see you. That beautiful, naked body of yours."

*ring* goes the phone.

Elvis looks at the phone confused. Who could be calling you and him right in the middle of your game. Hesitant, Elvis picks up the phone and answers.

"Hello?"

"I didn't leave the house," you say over the phone.

"Y/N, you naughty girl. You deserve a spankin'."

"Don't threaten me with a good time."

"Once I get my hands on you..."

"Talk is cheap, Presley."

"Tell me where you are."

"Where's the fun in that?" You answered him. "You're so close, E."

"Give me a hint."

"Well, there are six phones in the house. One in your study. The kitchen. The bedroom. The living room. And the other two are... E?"

Elvis goes quiet. Dead quiet to the point that it scares you. Then you realize he knows where you are!!! He knows you're downstairs! You drop the phone and try to make a run for it, but he grabs you as you get to the doorway. You yell with excitement.

You back away from him. You made him wait to pleasure you too long. He's sex deprived, hungry, and needy for you. You can see the lust in his eyes. Where the color of his eyes was once a clear blue, you now see a stormy dark gray.

"Now, E..." You say trying to calm him down.

"Silence," Elvis says, backing you up to the sofa.

You run away from him further into the den of the room, but he's right behind you. He grabs you and lays you face down on the sofa. He slaps your ass a few times cause moans to escape from your lips.

"Bad girl," Elvis says, through clinched teeth.

*smack*

"Making me wait to fuck you."

*smack*

"Not allowing me to take what's rightfully mine."

*smack*

"Awe!" Is all you can muster up.

The action makes you wetter. You start to hump the couch as another smack lands across your backside. Elvis has your hands where you can please yourself, so you fuck the sofa.

He forces his hand upon your ass once more, then he raises you ass in the air where you can't grind the sofa.

"Elvis, please," you beg.

"Elvis, please!" He mocks you, placing another smack to your rear end.

Then, without warning, he stuffs himself inside your pussy from behind. You let out such a moan at the penatration and pleasure that fulls you up. Holding your sides, he pounds his rock-hard dick inside with fervor. You delight in the feeling of being one with him.

With your hands free, you waste no time placing your fingers on your clit to work yourself into a frenzy. He pumps into you for a few minutes until he pulls out of you, turning you around to fuck you from the front.

He hungrily kisses your lips and makes his way down your neck. He takes his time going down to your breast, giving them special treatment. You moan at the sensation of his lips on your skin. They're like two plush clouds massaging you.

Elvis bites your left nipple causing you to scream. He looks at you with that devilish grin and licks the ache away. He sits up for a moment, and you take this opportunity to kiss him. You push him on his back, mounting his cock. He helps you line yourself up with his cock, and pulls you down to relieve the ache of pleasure. You both moan at the first stroke of each other.

You begin to ride his penis like you're on saddle back. You start slow at a slow trot and pick up the pace into a full gallop. Your heart has been racing since the beginning of your little game. But it's nothing compared to the way it races with Elvis inside you. You love this man so much.

He pushes himself inside you just right where he hits your g spot, and your moans fill the room. You are so blissed out from ecstasy that you tumble on top of him. He holds you closer than a toddler holds his or her teddy bear.

You both lay there quietly, just enjoying each other's company.

"Baby," Elvis says, "That was the best game of hide and seek I've ever played. I never knew running around Graceland naked could be such fun."

"Oh, I did, E. I knew," you say, wrapping his arm around you.

"So, what's the next game, Y/N?" He asks, kissing your head.

"I'm sure you'll think of something."

Taglist: @missmaywemeetagain @beeandheroddobsessions @headfullofpresley @everythingpresley @epforeverohyes @vintagepresley @pianginferno @powerofelvis @ab4eva @foreverdolly @searchingforgravity @thatbanditqueen @daffieapple @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @epsgirl @richardslady121 @literally-just-elvis-fics @eptodaytommorowforever @vintageshanny @iloveelvis @dreamingofep @aliypop @littlehoneyposts @msamarican

[starshinegarcia]

𝐏𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐲

Aaron Hotchner x plus-sized FBI secretary reader

Or: Hotch meets JJ’s stunningly quirky younger sister.

CW: mentions of alcohol, tad bit sensuality

tags: @discotitsposts @cerisereids @missmitchieg

Diet Mountain Dew baby, New York City..

Once a year, when late May rolled around, when the sun peeks out from behind the seemingly permanent clouds, and the trees were in full bloom, the FBI held a company picnic. It was always huge- just because they’re FBI agents doesn’t know they don’t know how to grill a solid burger here and there. That being said, the BAU usually tried to make an appearance, but more than not they were out of town on a case. This year, however, it happened to roll around on a quiet day, a day when the office became stuffy with the early-summer heat and the agents became restless.

So Hotch knew as he came in, that his team would most likely beg him to accompany them to the picnic, adorned in sunglasses and tote bags filled to the brim with goodies. Garcia was the first to approach him, wearing a spotted sundress and a wide-brimmed beach hat, “Sir, the company picnic, do you want to come-” “No, thank you Garcia. I’m quite alright.” Discouraged, Derek takes her place, leaning on Hotch’s office door frame. “C’mon boss, it’ll be fun.” Hotch sighs defiantly, glancing to Rossi for help. “Are you going, Dave?” “You betcha. Made some caprese to share, if you’re nice. C’mon, Aaron. Loosen up.” The whole team was hanging on his every word, with even Spencer peeking into the corner of the bullpen to hear his consensus. Hotch thinks on it for a second, before nodding slowly and loosening his tie. “Alright, team. Let’s leave in 10.”

You weren’t even planning on going- I mean, come on, a company picnic? But, you figured there wasn’t a better chance to, one, get free food, and two, show off your new sundress as a newly single woman. Just a month prior, you had ended a pretty serious (yet toxic) relationship, and getting out there was “exactly what you needed” (according to your mom.) So, you slipped on the flowy, blue and green flowered sundress, admiring the way it fell on your curves and hugged your body. Smiling, you made some fresh guac and headed down to the park. A gentle breeze rustled your hair, and you shaded your eyes from the midday sun as you admired the freshly- bloomed cherry blossoms. Setting the bowl of guac down on a nearby table, you surveyed the crowd of people, your eyes landing on your sister, with her team nestled in a cluster of trees near the edge.

“JJ!” Grinning, you bounced over, and she turns around, smiling widely and bringing her arms out. “__! You made it, sunshine!” You hug her quickly and tightly, letting go and smoothing your dress down. “Of course I did. It’s not every day I get to spend time with my sister, an FBI AGENT, who got little old me a job here.” JJ smiles, a twinkle in her eyes. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Here, here, meet the team!” JJ offers, leading you by the elbow and introducing you one by one. Rossi shakes your hand firmly, Spencer gives you an awkwardly charming wave, and Emily brings you in for a quick hug (you’d met her before, being your sister’s girlfriend and, as of recently, fiance.) Garcia squeezes you tightly, and you get to talking with her for a while, as she chatters about the team, introduces you to Morgan (her boyfriend, of course), and you talk about where you both shop (most of the same thrift stores and boutiques).

Hotch, having been here mostly not of his own will, had found a shady corner and set his lawn chair up, cracking open a La-Croix and simply observing the rest of his team. He had always loved this time of year- the way the flowers start the bloom, and everyone seems just a bit happier when the sun is out. It was also Jack’s favorite time of year, because he could stay outside playing much later. His eyes drift over his team, meeting the gaze of JJ just as she turns around and greets- someone new. He watches as she hugs a shorter, blonde woman, wearing a long flowy dress and smiling like there was no tomorrow. Her hair fell in wavy locks down her back, and the sun was shining on her and accentuating her body in a way that made him lose his damn mind. Through some force, not his own, he finds himself standing up, gravitating towards her and JJ, eager to be introduced and feeling like a kid again.

You had just managed to escape Garcia, seeking a drink (preferably the alcoholic kind) when JJ grabbed your hand, “Sunshine, my boss wants to meet you.” You brace yourself for another old white guy, turning around and reaching your hand out. “Hi, I’m __, it’s nice to-” you trail off, stuttering as you lay your eyes on quite possibly the Greek god of male beauty. He smiles slightly, somehow sensing the effect he has on you and shaking your hand with a gentle yet firm grip. “Aaron Hotchner. I hear you recently got a job here.” “Just a secretary, y’know, nothing fancy like you.” “I’ll leave you to it.”

JJ giggles, with the same twinkle in her eyes as earlier as she joins Em at the drink table, leaving you sweating and stuttering in front of Aaron fucking Hotchner. “You know, I’ve heard a lot about you. JJ really likes talking about how proud she is of you.” You smile, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Actually, I’ve heard a lot about you, as well. Mostly how great of a dad you are.” He shakes his head, smiling. “She exaggerates. I’m simply doing the best I can with a great kid.” “Well, I admire you for it.” Hotch watches you, wondering if you’re chasing the same stomach butterflies as him. “So, Sunshine. Where’d that come from?” You flush slightly, leaning down for a second to grab a Whiteclaw from the cooler near your feet. “When we were growing up, JJ used to be a little.. Grumpy. But, being younger, I always had more energy, so our parents always called me sunshine and her rain. Even though we’ve both changed from that, I guess, it’s just a habit.” You down the WhiteClaw in seconds- damnit, you really were thirsty. “Well, it fits. Take it easy with those, yeah?” You scoff slightly at his protectiveness, grabbing a cup and dumping your new can in it. Hotch watches you with a careful eye as you wander off back to Garcia.

As the picnic progresses, Hotch keeps a careful eye on you. Okay, maybe you had a few too many drinks. Maybe Hotch memorizes the movement of your body, of your lips. All you know is at the end of the day, as the sun is setting, you look for him and find only a business card at the bottom of your empty cup, with a note on the back, “I could use a little sunshine in my life”.

Never was there ever a girl so pretty..

this probably sucks but I wanted plus sized secretary so here we go :)))

unapologetically jemily and penelope and morgan (porgan?? 😭😭 menelope???)

likes/reblogs/comments always appreciated!!

love,

e/a <3

[ragin-cajun-fangirl]

Party Food

here's what we've got on the pizzas

savepoint (@savepoint-has-died): crispy pepperoni, extra cheese, stuffed crust with garlic butter, double butter breadsticks, salami, pepsi

ellia (@the-ellia-west): mushrooms, extra parmesan, crushed red pepper, chewy cup pepperoni

max (@bifluidmax08): green pepper, mushrooms, mountain dew

jay (me!): extra cheese, EXTRA CHEESE, ham cubes, stuffed crust with garlic butter, mac'n'cheese (it's really fuckin good)

graveyard (@fictionalcharactergraveyard): cheese, stuffed crust

number 1 (@urnumber1star): pineapple

space (@my-reblog-space): sweet corn and an egg in the middle

gray (@royallygray): rice and/or vanilla ice cream

tights (@kirks-slutty-red-tights) : plain cheese DOMINO'S

undying stars (@themortalityofundyingstars): garlic bites with 2x parmesan dip

paeliae (@paeliae-occasionally): garlic bread

@savepoint-has-died is handling the sandwiches

ellia: buttered bread (I recommend putting some nice big sea salt flakes on that)

jay: swiss and ham on sourdough with pink lemonade

aesthetic (@aesthetic-writer18): bread and bacon

max: PB&J

undying stars: mozzarella and mild cheddar on wheat bread with sweet tea

@the-ellia-west is bringing dessert

aesthetic: vanilla cake with chocolate frosting and pink star sprinkles

jay: cookies and cream ice cream with marshmallow sauce

undying stars: cherry slushy

savepoint: 2 chocolate sprinkle donuts

number 1: churro with chocolate sauce

paeliae: peanut butter chocolate chip cookies

max: gooey brownies with peppermint crumbles

graveyard: cheesecake

creator: oreo milkshake with whipped cream (fabulous choice)

@urnumber1star is dealing with drinks

ellia: sweet iced tea with mint

@paeliae-occasionally has offered to order pasta

ajax (@saturnsconstellation): alfredo pasta with grilled chicken and extra cheese

@royallygray welcome to the party!

[bra1nwashed]

random fucking ghoul headcanons/scenarios because this shit floods my brain 24/7

phantom really loves colored lights they make him very happy

dew and swiss did some gross things as kids. u know those green apple suckers that were covered in caramel? swiss used to eat the caramel off and let dew have the rest. dew would also suck on warheads until they weren't sour and then gave the rest to swiss

mountain hates bubblegum things (taste and smell)

mountain loves candy corn but dew thinks it's gross so he picks on mountain for it every fall

sunshine fucking adores carving pumpkins. it's her favorite part of halloween

all the ghouls and ghoulettes cannot stand mushy apples. especially phantom and mountain (they might cry if they eat a mushy apple)

aurora thinks purple grapes taste better than green ones and dew insists that they taste the same

rain and phantom hate coleslaw

dew loves sour candy but mountain hates it

cumulus is absolutely amazing at baking and cooking

cirrus on the other hand- great at baking, might die if she tries to cook

one time phantom tried to make grilled cheese for copia but forgot to put the plates in the george foreman grill

mountain and dew hate when stick butter is completely refrigerated and then used for toast or something bc it's hard for them to rub around and it frustrates tf outta them

phantom really hates centipedes and millipedes he will scream bloody murder if one is near him

sunny catches spiders and shows them to people very proudly (cirrus and aurora absolutely hate it)

aether used to be scared of butterflies (he still hates moths)

mountain prefers hot drinks over cold drinks but cold food over hot food

when dew was a kit, he was dumb enough to try to take something out of the oven without some kind of protection. he was burned bad. funny thing was, rain and copia were the only ones who knew and while copia was concerned for dew, rain was salty about his chicken nuggets getting dropped on the kitchen floor

speaking of kit kitchen accidents, swiss once lit shit on fire bc he was making a macaroni cup in the microwave and forgot to put in water

phantom and swiss like the texture of nail files on any surface but their teeth

another kit one- dew once got mad at rain for making a short joke and so he chewed up rain's rubber duck that he took with him for baths all the time. copia squished them into one of those "get along" shirts

when he was a kit, aether ate a dead daddy long legs spider he found in the shower floor once. no reason. he just wanted to.

[potatoplace]

Omega Needs - Chapter 6

Feylin, eventual Feysand

chapter 5 | chapter 7 | series masterlist

Story Summary: Feyre presented as an omega after being changed into a high fae Under the Mountain. Her heats have been hellish, and Tamlin has neglected certain aspects of her presentation. After the disastrous wedding ceremony, how will Feyre’s omega handle being away from her Alpha?

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, not proofread

Words: ~6.3k

Author's Note: this came out sooner than I expected! It is only covering another day and a half, but there will be another chapter before Tuesday for the rest of Feyre's first week in the Night Court. I hope you all like it!

18+ only pls

🩵💚🩵💜🩵

Feyre was awoken a while later by Cerridwen knocking on the doorframe of the bathroom.

“Feyre? Lunch is ready,” She said gently, her eyes considerately avoiding her naked form, still in the bath.

“Oh, thank you, Cerridwen. I’ll be out in a few minutes, you can leave it there, for me,” Feyre replied, a sleepy smile on her face. The shadow wraith nodded her head, then turned and walked away.

Feyre got up once she heard the snick of the door, wrapping her body in a fluffy towel. Her skin was pruney, but she felt more refreshed than she had before getting in the bath. She returned to the main room and got into her wardrobe, looking for something to wear until it was time to sleep.

She rummaged through the drawers at the bottom that she had yet to look at, and pulled out a soft set of matching shorts and a tank top in a pale, minty green. The color reminded her of Spring, and she quickly dried her body off and slipped the items on, along with a pair of socks that went up to her mid calf.

Feyre then moved to the table, where Cerridwen had left a tray holding a soup, tomato, she would guess, and a grilled sandwich filled with cheese cut into two triangles. Feyre tucked in, loving the basil and slight creaminess the soup had, and the sandwich went perfectly with the soup.

She had just sat down in the plush armchair with one of the novels she had picked out earlier when Cerridwen returned for the tray.

Before Feyre could second guess the request, Feyre blurted “Would you be able to get me a sketch pad and some charcoals, Cerridwen?”

The wraith turned around, tray already in her arms. “Of course, Feyre. I’ll be back in just a moment with it.”

“Thank you,” Feyre said, grateful that the other fae hadn’t questioned her on her request.

Cerridwen returned a few minutes later, three differently sized sketch pads and an assortment of charcoals, blending stumps and erasers in hand.

Feyre stood up and excitedly took the items from the other fae. "Thank you so much, Cerridwen, these look perfect!"

"I'm glad you like them, Feyre," she said with a warm smile, one of the few Feyre had seen from her.

Feyre set the supplies down on the table as Cerridwen left the room, closing the door behind her. The only thing missing was...

Quickly, Feyre dragged the armchair she had just been sitting in next to the table, close enough that she could reach the extra charcoals and supplies. She moved one of the smaller chairs in front of the armchair so that if she was here long enough, she could put her legs up without needing to move anything or risk getting charcoal on the fine furniture.

Feyre sat down and grabbed the smallest sized sketch pad and a piece of charcoal. Then, she began to draw the glorious view that had been calling to her the past three days.

🩵💚🩵💜🩵

Feyre had completed three renditions of the mountains in front of her, one on each of the differently sized pads of paper. With each one, she became more and more confident.

She had thought any ability to create, to make something new in this world instead of just taking away from it had been taken away from her when her neck snapped.

But that wasn't the case. With her fingers covered in black dust, she had made something beautiful again- Feyre had just needed some inspiration, something out of the usual dullness of her life in Spring.

She was happy with Tamlin, that was true, but the constant season and Ianthe's hounding of every move she made had made her rather tired. But seeing another court, the other beauty that this world had to offer had rekindled the spark in her, the part of her that she had thought so useless as a starving human.

Feyre might even paint when she gets home- she did have a lovely set of paints from Tamlin that he had given her last Winter Solstice for her birthday.

She was brought out of her thoughts by a few gentle knocks on her door, and Mor's voice came from the other side. "Feyre? Can I come in?"

"Yes, come in Mor," Feyre replied, standing from her place on the chair and turning to face the door.

More breezed in, her striking golden hair in soft ringlets and dressed in a flowy white dress. "Dinner is ready, I thought I would walk you down there!"

"That would be nice, Mor. Let me just change," Feyre said, looking down at her attire. She was definitely not going to eat dinner with Rhys and Mor in pajamas.

She pulled another matching set in the same cut as the one she'd worn this morning from her wardrobe, this one in a shade of pale blue. Feyre went into her bathroom and quickly changed, folding the pajamas and setting them on the counter for tonight.

Once she was done, the two of them made their way down to the table they had been eating at while Feyre was here. Rhysand was nowhere to be seen, and they took their seats.

On the table was a bowl of salad, a loaf of bread, a bottle of wine, and a small plate holding butter, as well as their place settings. There was an empty space in the middle of the table, and Feyre assumed that there was another dish that had yet to be put out.

Mor took to pouring them each a glass of wine, which Feyre gladly take a sip of. It was sweet, the flavor bursting across her tongue, far better than the usual wines they had with dinner in Spring, all chosen for their scents rather than taste. Why, Feyre could not fathom.

"Rhys brought out the good stuff, thank the Mother!" Mor exclaimed as she took her own sip. "I like the taste of wine and all, I just enjoy it even more when it tastes like there's no alcohol in it."

"I'll agree with you there," Feyre laughed. "Speaking of Rhys, where is he?"

"He's just bringing out the main dish," Mor replied, and as she did Rhysand came out of the darkness of the hallway leading to the kitchen. "Good thing you're here, Rhys, I'm starving."

Without saying a word, Rhysand set the bowl on the table and took a seat, dishing out food for all three of them.

"Thank you, Rhys," Feyre said gently after he had given her a piece of bread, her plate now loaded with salad and the creamy pasta dish he had brought. The pasta had mushrooms, onions, chicken, and pieces of crumbled bacon in it, and was absolutely delicious.

Rhysand said nothing, merely nodding his head in acknowledgment as he poured his own very full glass of wine, downing half of it in one gulp.

"So, Feyre, I saw you had some sketch pads...?" Mor prodded gently after a few minutes of tense silence.

"Oh." Feyre blushed, she wasn't quite prepared to talk about art yet, but she supposed now was as good a time as ever to start again. "I asked Cerridwen if she could, I hope that was okay."

"Of course, Feyre! Again, you can ask for pretty much anything you want and we will get it for you, it's no trouble to us at all," Mor interrupted with a sweet smile, and that combined with her scent, still calm, soothed Feyre's small bit of panic.

"Well, thank you. I just... the view out of my bedroom is so spectacular, I needed to commit it to memory."

Mor nodded, that smile still on her face. "I can understand that, our court is so beautiful. I wish I was any good with the arts, but I am rather dreadful at everything I’ve tried," Mor chuckled.

“Oh, I’m sure you aren’t that bad Mor. Maybe you could try again? It does take practice after all.”

“No, I don’t think so. I’ll leave it to you and the other creatives,” Mor said lightly. She looked over to Rhysand, who was still silently eating his dinner and on his second glass of wine. “Is there anywhere else you’d like to sketch, Feyre?”

Feyre thought about it for a moment before answering. “There’s nowhere specific that I can think of. Right now, at least. But I haven’t been able to explore much of the Spring Court, I’ve been constantly busy this past year. But maybe you’ll be able to show me a few of your own favorites here?” She asked, hopeful for the idea of more glorious view to put on paper.

“I’d love to do that Feyre! Between that and our Dawn Court trip, I am going to have so much fun planning!” Mor clapped her hands together in excitement.

The blonde was definitely living up to Feyre’s first impression of her. Very bright and friendly, just like her personality.

Rhysand stoop up abruptly, his chair scraping against the stone beneath them loudly. He grabbed his glass of wine and stalked off.

Feyre stared after him, confused. “What was that all about?”

Mor sighed, and it was the first time had heard her sound tired. “One of our temples was attacked a couple of hours ago, we lost some of our citizens. He’s taking it rather hard, after all of the losses from… well, you know.”

Feyre grimaced. “That’s awful… Have you caught who did it yet?”

Mor pursed her lips, eyeing the hallway Rhysand had disappeared down. “Promise you won’t tell anyone about this?” Feyre nodded, she wasn’t sure what use the information would be to her or anyone she knows anyways. “We caught the actual people who went through with the act, but we believe it to be the work of Hybern.”

“Hybern?” Feyre had never heard of such a place, only Prythian and the Continent.

“It’s a large island kingdom to our west… Amarantha was one of their generals, and we believe they might be planning something. What, we aren’t sure of, but Rhys’s goal is to unite Prythian to stop whatever conflict is brewing. But… Today hit him hard. None of us were expecting a seemingly random loss of innocent life.”

Feyre frowned, looking to where he had exited the room from. “I am sorry. I can’t imagine what it must feel like, losing people again, so soon after everything.”

Mor loosed another sigh, slumping back in her chair. “It is difficult, for sure. But seeing you- seeing someone be able to create good in this world reminds me that it’s worth it. No matter what comes, we will need people like you, more than ever.”

“People like… Me?” Feyre asked, unsure of what she meant.

“Dreamers, Feyre. People who can look at the world and see the good in it, no matter what they’ve been through. It might take them a week, a month, a year…” Mor paused and smiled at Feyre knowingly. “But people like you always come back to what’s beautiful and worthwhile in the world.”

The words brought a smile to Feyre’s face. “Dreamers, hmm? I like the sound of that…”

Mor jumped up from her chair, startling Feyre. “Dreamers deserve cake, don’t you think Feyre?”

“Oh, they do Mor!” Feyre hopped out of her chair was well, loving the idea Mor had suggested.

Mor dragged her down the hallway to the kitchen, the two of them giggling all the way like children sneaking food in the middle of the night. They slid to a stop in front of the massive fridge, and Mor swung the doors of it open wide.

“Cake, cake, cake,” Mor sang, pulling out a beautifully decorated cake. It was wrapped in a lovely blue-grey frosting, which nearly matched her eyes, Feyre noted, and topped with blackberries, raspberries, and blueberries.

“It’s beautiful,” Feyre breathed, surprised by how lovely a cake could be. None of the wedding cakes she had tasted in Spring had drawn her attention like this one did.

“It tastes as amazing as it looks, Feyre, I promise,” Mor said as she grabbed a large knife, two forks, and two plates out of a cabinet. She cut two generous slices for the both of them and led Feyre over to the breakfast bar on the other side of the island counter.

They both let out a groan at their first bites, the simple but perfect vanilla cake and sweet berry filling was absolute perfection.

“So, Feyre… I didn’t want to ask when Rhys was around in case it made you uncomfortable, and you are in no way obligated to answer me… But how’s this past year been for you? How’s uhm… How are things with Tamlin?” Mor asked hesitantly.

Feyre smiled awkwardly, swallowing her bite of cake. “It’s been… it’s been tough, for sure. There’s been a lot for me to get used to, not even just with preparing to be Lady of Spring, but… I have a new body too.”

Mor grimaced. “I can’t imagine what it must be like, Rhys said you had grown a couple of inches, right?” Feyre nodded her head. “That must have been so disorienting to get used to.”

“It was, it took me a month to stop stumbling around everywhere, and two months for me to stop mangling the silverware at dinner,” Feyre laughed, Mor joining her. “And as for Tamlin… well, it would have been nice if the ceremony had gone as planned but I… I had a panic attack, and well… Rhys stepped in at just the right time to not ruin our relationship entirely. I am looking forward to going home, though, and seeing him again. I… I miss my alpha,” Feyre admitted in a small voice.

“Oh, Feyre. You’ll be back to him in just a few days, there’s no need to worry. I’m sure he’s looking forward to seeing you too,” Mor comforted her, rubbing a soothing hand on her back.

“I know, I just wish we had been able to talk before I left for a moment… But there’s no point to worrying now, I can’t do anything from here.”

“Is there anything we can do to make you more comfortable? Rhys mentioned… He mentioned that you might go into heat, or the beginnings of it during this week.” Mor was looking at her with soft eyes.

“I’m not sure,” Feyre said, biting her lip. “You mentioned there’s a catalog with nesting materials?”

Mor’s eyes lit up. “Yes, there is Feyre. Would you like me to show you which one it is?”

“Yes, please.”

The two of them ran with their half eaten plates of cake into Feyre’s room, Mor giving her plate to Feyre and rummaging through the catalogs before pulling out the one they were looking for.

“Can I help you look?” Mor asked with puppy dog eyes, and Feyre couldn’t resist.

“You can help me make sure I get colors that mostly go together.”

“Yes!” Mor jumped onto Feyre’s bed, patting the spot next to her.

They spent the next hour going through the entire booklet, Feyre picking out a plethora of different blankets, pillowcases, and cuts of materials that she knew would look and feel perfect in her nest from the illustrations and descriptions. She insisted on only getting items in varying shades of purple, blue, and pink, making sure to get pastels and darker versions.

Feyre could almost see her nest now, the top of it colored like the sunset and the bottom resembling the sunrise. She fell back into her pillows, letting out a happy sigh as she did so.

“You good, Feyre?” Mor giggled at her.

“Mhm, I’m just excited to have all of it…”

“Well, you won’t have to wait long. I’ll go right after breakfast tomorrow. Did you want to look at any of the other catalogs?” Mor suggested, already getting up to grab said catalogs.

“I don’t see why not,” Feyre said as she caught one- seemingly for clothing- from midair.

Feyre found a few dresses that she wanted- all in the same color scheme as her nesting materials. One of them was absolutely gorgeous, it was colored like a soft pink sunset, lighter at the top and fading into a lovely violet at the hem. It was something Feyre normally wouldn’t wear on an average day, but she figures that her time here hasn’t exactly been average, so she might as well go all out when she feels like it. She also picked two skirts and their matching long sleeved tops, both in deep jewels tones. The description promised them to be silk, one of Feyre’s favorite materials for clothing, and the beautiful sapphire and amethyst colors were too tempting to resist.

By the time they had gone through three more clothing booklets, the sun had long since set and the two of them were laughing, slightly delirious from tiredness.

“Feyre, dear, I think I’m going to head to bed,” Mor said, finally pulling her body off of Feyre’s bed. “I’ll see you in the morning for breakfast, alright?”

Feyre smiled, a bright and genuine thing, and nodded her head. “I’ll see you then, Mor. And thank you, for this. It was fun.”

“It’s no problem at all, Feyre, I had fun too. Sleep well."

And with that, the Alpha left her room, shutting the door behind her softly. Feyre got up from her bed, stretching her limbs before walking to the bathroom. She changed into her green sleep set from earlier, then tucked herself into bed, staring out at the stars over the mountains.

A few minutes later, the excitement and sugar wearing off, Feyre fell into a deep sleep.

🩵💚🩵💜🩵

Feyre woke when a knock sounded on her door. She didn’t move.

“Feyre, darling? Breakfast is ready.” It was Rhysand.

Feyre merely rolled over in her bed, pulling the covers over her head. She heard the door open, and soft footsteps crossing the room.

“Feyre.”

She stayed still, trying to breathe as little as possible.

“Feyre.” Rhysand’s hand wiggled one of her feet, and she reflexively pulled away from his grasp. “Fey-ruh,” he said in a sing-songy voice, grabbing her other foot.

“I don’t want to get out of bed,” She finally whispered when she pulled her feet in towards her body.

“You only need to get up for breakfast, darling, we can do your training in here if you still want to be in bed afterwards,” Rhysand offered. Feyre groaned, but moved the blankets off of her face to look at him.

“You promise?”

Rhysand beamed at her. “Of course, Feyre. I promise. Now, will you change and meet me outside?”

“Fine,” Feyre huffed, waiting until he had left the room to throw the covers off of her body. She got up and went to her wardrobe, picking out a soft pair of leggings and a dark green sweater, then pulled on a pair of matching green knee high socks.

She felt nice and cozy, a decent enough substitution for her bed. Feyre joined Rhys in the hallway, and they made their way down to the dinner table.

Mor was already seated, pouring orange juice and some kind of sparkling wine into glasses for all of them, and on the table there were omelettes already on their plates, as well as a bowl of diced melons.

Breakfast was delicious, as Feyre was coming to expect from her meals here, and the bubbly mimosas Mor had poured made all of them relaxed and the time fly by.

Soon enough, Mor was leaving, heading off to go do Feyre’s shopping.

“Don’t worry, Feyre, I’ll be buying things for myself as well,” Mor reassured her when Feyre had voiced a concern about Mor spending her day shopping for her.

“Mor is fantastic at finding new things she needs, especially if you two looked over any clothing booklets last night,” Rhysand chuckled, and Mor flipped him off before she vanished. “So, Feyre, did you want to get back in bed or go to the training room?”

“Uhm… the training room should be fine, I was just so comfortable…” she trailed off.

“If you change your mind, just let me know, Feyre.” She dipped her head in agreement, and the two of them made their way to the training room, sitting in the same chairs they had yesterday.

“Let’s start with shielding again. Your shield from yesterday was wonderful, you might try adding in some defenses to ward away intruders before they try exploring the waters of your mind,” Rhysand suggested.

Hearing that she had done well again, Feyre beamed at Rhysand. “I’ll do my best.”

She thought of what might be able to protect her in the water. Feyre had never seen the sea, though her father had told tales of great beasts that would take bites out of a ships hull. She couldn’t picture what that might look like. Though… she did have one idea for a defensive mechanism.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

Rhysand entered her mind, finding some resistance in the initial push inwards. He attempted to dive below the water, but it was solid this time, as though an inch thick layer of ice had covered it- so he smashed his way through, plunging beneath the surface. He made it a few yards down before her defenses found him.

He was face to- well, maw- with the Middengard Wyrm- the beast Feyre had nearly died slaughtering. They weren’t able to swim in the physical world, but the one in Feyre’s shielding was a vicious swimmer, propelling itself towards Rhysand’s power at a rapid pace, and just before it swallowed him whole, he backed out of her mind, breathless.

“Feyre- that was brilliant! I’m so proud of you, it takes most fae months to get to the level you’ve already achieved.”

“Rhys, stop it, you’re just saying that,” Feyre countered.

“I am being serious, Feyre. Most fae have trouble coming up with anything but a literal wall for their mental barrier, but you’ve already created an ocean and have a terrifyingly realistic Wyrm to serve as both protection and a warning to daemati that do manage to breach the initial barrier of your mind. It is amazing how well you are progressing already.”

Feyre looked at him, really looked at him. His eyes were eager and truthful, and his expression was softened by them.

“Are you… okay?” Feyre finally asked the question that had been at the back of her mind since he had woken her for breakfast. “Mor, she told me some of what happened yesterday.”

Rhysand sighed, holding his chin in his hand. “I am not okay, Feyre, but I hope to be soon. It will take a while for the loss of my people to leave my heart. Thank you, for asking Feyre.”

Feyre merely nodded, then asked, “Again?”

They practiced a few more times, each time Rhysand pushed Feyre to make the initial barrier of her mind stronger, thicker. Harder for his power to seep or crack through. By the end of the second hour, Feyre was sweating and tired, her mind feeling a bit fuzzy at the edges.

“We’ll stop here for now with the shielding, Feyre. Here, drink this,” Rhysand said, procuring a glass of water with a straw from nowhere, and handed it to Feyre. She gulped it down, feeling more present and alert after finishing the glass.

“Thank you, Rhys. Are we going to work on my magic now?” Rhysand bobbed his head in confirmation.

“I’d like you to locate your magic again, and then attempt to draw it out, a good place to start with that is through the hands, they give more of a physical point to lead the magic to.”

Feyre did as he asked, closing her eyes and finding that slowly writhing mass of cold energy within her chest. It seemed more active today, wiggling in time to her heartbeat instead of every other beat. She tried to stretch it out, move it towards her arms, but it wouldn’t budge. She let out a frustrated groan and opened her eyes.

“It’s stuck.”

“Keep trying, Feyre. You’ll get it,” Rhysand encouraged her, and she shut her eyes and tried again.

She tried to move it more gently this time, in time with its natural pulsing. It expanded slightly in the direction of her arm before snapping back into place. Feyre brought a hand to her heart, soothing the ache the sensation had left behind.

“I got it to move, but barely,” Feyre grumbled, feeling discouraged.

“That’s great though, Feyre, just a few minutes ago you couldn’t get it to expand at all. Keep trying, practice will make it looser and able to expand more quickly and with less intense after effects.”

Feyre sat trying for the next hour, and managed to get the magic to expand through most of her chest and able to hold it there for around three seconds. She was exhausted, though, and drenched in sweat.

She went to try again, grasping at the power contained within her once again, before Rhysand placed a gentle hand on her arm. “Feyre, you should rest for the day.”

“No, I can keep trying Rhys, I’ll be fine-” Feyre protested before Rhysand cut her off.

“I know that you can keep trying, Feyre, but there is no need to exhaust your body any further today, it will most likely do more harm than good. Your progress in both areas today has been fantastic, you should be proud of yourself! I know that I am proud of you, Feyre,” Rhysand said in a caring tone, and the words of praise made Feyre’s omega so happy she was on the verge of purring aloud.

“Thank you, Rhys,” Feyre responded with a blush high on her cheeks. She stood from her chair and stretched her sore, aching muscles. Rhysand followed suit, and walked Feyre back to her bedroom just as he had yesterday.

“Mor will be back in around a half hour with lunch for you and multitudes of shopping bags I’m sure she is going to bring home,” Rhysand informed her with a chuckle once they were by her door. “Make sure you’re eating well when you practice, Feyre, magic eats through out energy stores very quickly, especially at the start of learning to wield it.”

“I’ll pay attention to that, Thank you Rhys,” Feyre said. Rhysand smiled and turned around, heading back in the direction they had come from, and Feyre slipped into her room.

Like yesterday, she made her way to the bathroom and stripped herself of her clothing, tossing it in the laundry basket before sinking down into the water. She relaxed for a few minutes, letting the hot water soothe her aching muscles before she began to wash her hair, then moved on to her body.

In about twenty minutes, Feyre had just dried off and slipped on a soft black sweater dress when a knock came on her door. “Come in!”

The door busted open, revealing Mor carrying at least ten different bags, all stuffed to the brim with various colors and types of fabrics. “Today was so much fun! I got everything you asked for plus a few things that I thought might be nice that weren’t in the catalogs.” She dumped the bags on the floor, before going back out to the hall and grabbing a few more bags, one of which was giving off a deliciously spicy smell. “I also brought lunch, it’s from my favorite restaurant, I think it’s some type of curry but no matter what it will be amazing!”

Feyre moved to the bags on the floor first, instantly spotting an amethyst fabric that she snatched away, bringing it to her face and nuzzling into it. Mor dropped the bags that didn’t hold food on the ground with the rest and moved to the table, unpacking the food as Feyre continued rummaging in the bags.

“Oh!” Feyre exclaimed as she pulled out a pair of violet thigh high kitted socks, thick and soft and everything Feyre needed right now. She slipped them on quickly, and returned to her post of sorting through the massive amount of materials in front of her.

Before she could do much sorting- into piles of blankets, pillow cases, hemmed pieces of fabrics, pillows, and clothes- Feyre was interrupted by Mor.

“Feyre, you need to eat lunch.”

Feyre ignored her, continuing to pull item after item out of the bags, rubbing each one against her face before placing them in the correct pile.

“Omega.” That got Feyre to stop and turn towards the alpha who was already seated at the table, dishing food out for the both of them. “You need to eat, Rhys said you did a lot of training today. Be good and follow his instructions, okay?” Feyre bit her lip, gaze moving back to the still unsorted bags. “Omega, everything will be there when you finish eating, I promise. You can even sit and stare at them while you eat, if you’d like, but you need to eat, Feyre.”

Feyre finally got up from the floor, a pout on her lips as she took her seat. It was quickly erased when she smelled the food again, that wonderful spiced aroma filling Feyre’s senses. She sat so that she could see the bags out of the corner of her eye, but was still able to look out at the mountains if she wished.

“How’s the training going?” Mor asked a few minutes after Feyre had begun eating the creamy yellow chicken curry and rice.

“Rhys says it’s going well, but I have my doubts…” Feyre confessed. “I haven’t been able to summon anything, let alone move my magic into my limbs.”

“That’s true, you are in the beginning stages of learning to use your magic. It is the hardest part, I promise you, but from the few details Rhys has told me that you are progressing quickly, especially in the mental shielding aspect.”

“Really?”

“Yes, Feyre. And if I’m being honest, being able to keep Rhys out for any amount of time is impressive, even for someone who has practiced for years. The fact that you’ve been able to shows just how capable you are for magic. I think you’ll get the hang of it faster than you think,” Mor said sweetly, and every word from the alpha’s lips soothed the tension that had built inside of her body since this morning.

Hearing it from Rhys was one thing, he seemed to prefer training with a gentle hand for the moment, but hearing assurances from someone else was helpful. Calming, even. Feyre shook her head.

“I can’t believe I was so worried about that, it’s such a silly problem.”

“Feyre, it’s not silly. You’ve been given magic after being a human all your life, I think it would be more strange to not worry about it.”

“I suppose you’re right, Mor.”

Mor flashed her a smile. “I know I am, Feyre.”

The two of them finished their lunch, staring out at the passing clouds. As soon as Feyre was done, she washed her hands in the bathroom and returned to the bags to continue sorting them.

“Do you want me to help, Feyre, or are you fine on your own?” Mor asked from where she was still sitting at the table.

“I can do it on my own, but you can stay if you’d like. Or are you busy?” Feyre looked up at the other fae then, worried that she had taken up to much of the blonde’s time.

“No, no, I have nothing else to do today. I can stay for a while,” Mor said soothingly, and Feyre relaxed. “I’ll try reading one of those romance books you have over there, if that’s alright?”

“Oh, of course,” Feyre said, already focused on sorting everything again.

In a few minutes, all of the bags were emptied and everything sorted, and Feyre sighed. That part was done. Now, to arrange it all on her bed and around the room.

Feyre began to assemble her nest, carefully choosing which spot each item rested in to make it as perfect as possible. Her sunset to sunrise pattern was stunning, if she had to describe it in any way but perfect.

Her nest is perfect.

Tears fill Feyre’s eyes as joy bubbles in her chest.

It’s the first time her nest has felt right to her; every time in Spring something had felt off, like she didn’t have the right materials or patterns to satisfy her omega.

But now? Staring at the beautiful nest, with fabrics piled around the bed on the floor continuing the pattern she had created, her nest felt so welcoming and lovely.

Feyre slid onto the bed, rolling around on it and relishing in the soft slip of fabrics against her skin.

The door clicked shut, and Feyre’s head swung towards it, then back to the table where Mor had last been.

She was gone, as were the containers from lunch and the shopping bags.

Oh mother, did she see me rolling around in my nest? Feyre thought, color creeping up her neck.

But in a few moments, Feyre was back to basking in the happiness of her newly completed nest, her omega feeling the most at peace she had since Feyre had been turned into one.

Feyre pulled a violet body pillow into her body, wrapping her arms around it and stuffing it between her thighs. A series of deep breaths left her as her body relaxed into the nest, and she fell asleep just a few minute after curling up.

🩵💚🩵💜🩵

“Feyre, darling, wake up,” came Rhysand’s voice, soft and comforting and oh so alpha.

She opened her eyes, met with the sight of Rhys standing in front of her nest before the fabric starts on the floor, holding a tray.

“It’s time for dinner, and Mor said you might not feel like leaving your room again today, so I brought dinner to you,” he explained with a smile. “Is it alright if I set the tray down in your nest, Feyre?”

Feyre nodded, and he placed the tray down in front of her as she disentangled herself from the body pillow and sat up.

He then dragged a chair over to the side of her bed, being mindful to not interfere with the boundary of Feyre’s nest, for which she was grateful.

In Spring, most of the maids had been mindful of her space, but Ianthe had never shown any care to keeping Feyre’s nest intact. This was a welcome change. Maybe she should stand up to Ianthe when she gets home…?

“How are you feeling, Feyre? Not too tired, I hope.”

Feyre blinked at him, the violet of his eyes catching her gaze. “Oh, uhm, I’m fine, thank you Rhys. A short nap helped, and the food Mor brought me for lunch was so good.” She turned her attention to the tray Rhysand had set in her nest and pulled it towards her. “This looks amazing too,” Feyre said, and started eating the thick slice of lasagna and roasted vegetables. “It is amazing.”

Rhysand chuckled. “It’s one of my favorites, lasagna was always a special meal for my brothers and I growing up. It meant we had done a good job that day, good enough for my mother to spend a few hours preparing the dish, all to put a smile on our faces,” he reminisced, a wistful look on his face.

“That was very kind of her, she must have cared about the three of you a lot,” Feyre said, thinking back on her own mother, who had hardly lifted a finger for Feyre’s well-being before she passed.

“She did. She did.”

The rest of their meal was spent in a comfortable silence, with Feyre still brushing her fingers against her different nesting fabrics every few seconds.

“When did you want to return home, Feyre?” Rhysand asked after they had both finished, a serious look on his face.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re obviously nesting, I want to make sure that you still feel comfortable being away from Tamlin.”

“Oh. Normally I… don’t actually go in to heat for at least three days, I should be able to make it to the end of the week.”

Rhysand considers it before adding, “Let me know if you do feel it starting, either Mor or I can take you back to Spring immediately. And there no need to worry, I won’t add any extra time to your future stays, Feyre.”

“Thank you, Rhys,” Feyre replied with a smile.

“Now, I think I’ll leave you to sleep, I’m going to head off to bed myself,” Rhysand said as he stood, gathering all of their dishes together and heading out of the door. “Goodnight, Feyre.”

“Goodnight, Rhys.”

The door snicked shut, and Feyre stood from her spot in her nest.

Pajamas. Then she can go to bed. She rifled through the wardrobe before pulling out a pretty purple nightgown that matched the soft she was wearing, made of a smooth satin that Feyre was dying to have on her skin all night. She removed her dress and slipped her nightgown over her shoulders. The fabric felt just as lovely as she thought it would.

Feyre stumbled back to her nest, falling into the middle of it. She pulled the body pillow back to its previous position and wrapped a soft, pink blanket around herself.

Between the food warming her stomach and the soft fabrics surrounding her, Feyre fell asleep in just a few minutes, floating on a sea of clouds in her dreams.

Series taglist: @icey--stars

[thisisntthegeorgeyourelookingfor]

I smoked some jerky.

Now I wanna do some more.

[quirkwizard]

Hi I’m the one who asked about the hero themed restaurants and in the words of emperor Palpatine I say “Do it”.

I was going to write it out, but that do it sealed the deal. And I will be sticking with restaurants that match the hero's role and brand. As funny as I think it would be for Ms. Joke to own a bar just to practice her jokes at, it doesn't really work with her image.

-Edgeshot has a very traditional restaurant, specializing in hibachi and sushi rolls, call the Fold and Wrap. Their specially is a wrap that resembles Edgeshot's hero costume, headpiece and everything.

-The Pussycats runs a cat café called the Wild Cats. It used to be a cat maid cafe, but was rebranded since Pixie Bob keep putting off her duties in favor of trying to be young and cute.

-Mount Lady runs a cabaret club called Zenith. Patrons can bear various tiers of services named after mountain levels and you can choose to Gigantify any of the services or meals at any point.

-Best Jeanist has a high class restaurant called Fine Dinning where only the finest foods are served. The dress code is law and the "no shirt, no shoes, no service" policy is enforced with brutal efficiency.

-Kamui Woods has a places that specializes in all natural dishes, especially any plant based ones, called Forest Greens. Pretty much only lives through being attached to Kamui Woods' brand.

-Miruko owns a blue collar bar, like with the punching machine and mechanical bull, called the Hare's Leg. Has a very rowdy and aggressive atmosphere that Miruko herself encourages.

-Manual runs the OK Corral. It's a place that specializes in fish. It's not great, it's not terrible. It's just okay. In his younger, wilder years, had a bar, famous for his stunning shows of controlling alcohol.

-Sir Nighteye runs a kid centric arcade join called Hero's Palace. Formally an All Might establish, he took over in the hopes of protecting the laughs and smiles of children. No believe that he's the one who runs it.

-The Ingeium line has the Iida Grill, which is also a family business where a lot of the non-hero members go to work. The place is covered in memorabilia and keepsakes from the various Iida members.

-Fat Gum's is the Guttbuster. Has plenty of food based challenges and unique combinations inspired by Fat Gum's own diet, like a cheese burger pizza. The real thing would not be approved by any health board on the planet.

-Gang Orca runs a port side seafood restaurant called Bait and Tackle. Patrons can see him swimming around for photo opportunities and the occasional sea shows. You can pay extra to have a fish Gang Orca hunted himself.

-Hawks has a family friendly restaurant where everyone of any age can have fun called the Family Roost. He sometimes drops by when it's a kids birthday party and uses his feathers to cut and serve the cake. He specializes in hot wings.

[rivetingrosie4]

Rockets’ Red Glare

RDR2 | Relationship: Arthur Morgan x Female Reader (modern) | Rating: Teen+

Summary: Arthur and reader invite John, Abigail, and Jack over to their property for a little Fourth of July celebration, complete with at-home fireworks.

Tumblr masterlist | Ao3

🎆Comments always welcome! Reblogs always appreciated!🎆

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As you set a large tupperware of sliced watermelon on the long, wooden outdoor table, the tinny smoke of beef on the grill begins to fill your nostrils. You’re hoping Arthur doesn’t put too much black on the burger patties. Since you share a love of burnt ends, you aren’t worried about the brisket he’s had perfecting in the smoker for hours. But he tends to get carried away watching the flames he’d created lick up through the grill’s grate and put a char on the edges of the patties.

When you’re reaching to adjust the little spray of metallic red, white, and blue stars you’d placed in the midst of the table earlier, the familiar electric guitar opening of Creedence Clearwater Revival’s “Up Around the Bend” suddenly bursts through the air. You look over just in time to see John setting his blaring bluetooth speaker on the ground and stuffing his phone in his pocket with a grin.

“All right! Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about!” he hollers.

You smile and chuff a silent laugh as you watch him nod to the tune in his strange way with his head too low—more like ducking his head repeatedly—and nibble from a bare, freshly piping patty he’d clearly just snatched from Arthur’s grill plate.

“Now it’s a party, Morgan! You gotta get the mood set right,” he calls as he nonchalantly turns away.

“Oh I’m sorry, thought I was just puttin’ food in your belly, is all,” Arthur says from his place standing before the grill. “Ain’t ever a party without that, that’s for sure.”

Just catching Arthur’s flat half-smirk and indignant glare in John’s direction, you glance back in time to see John wave his hand.

“Just be glad your cookin’s decent enough to bring me around every time.”

“Oh yeah…” you hear Arthur mumble beneath his breath. “Ain’t I just real glad about that…”

Shaking your head, you turn back to look at Arthur, his focus having returned to the grill. A smile spreads across your mouth at the vivid memories that visit you at the sound of this song. The romance of your relationship still very new, your timid heart so full of audacious hope and longing and trepidation. Even at your age, never had you been in a relationship before, and you’d certainly never been given reason to hope by any man as kind and respectful and gorgeous and wonderful as Arthur.

Riding with him in his cherry red pickup, you’d enjoyed the winding mountain path through the lush green of poplars and evergreens until you’d arrived at the nearby town’s gathering for their Fourth of July parade. When you’d parked and stepped out of the truck, it had been this song playing over the main street speakers. And you couldn’t have helped the bright smile that grew on your face at the beauty and vibrant energy of such a quaint, small-town celebration. Little boys and girls with bucket hats riding atop their father’s shoulders, waving flags in one hand and oblivious to the drops of melting ice cream dripping onto his long-suffering head from their cones in the other. Toddlers stomping both sandaled feet in excitement, clumsily clapping their hands and pointing at the marching bands and floats that passed by. Girls in jostling pigtails getting their faces painted and little boys with tiny sunglasses soaking up the sun and munching and slurping crispy watermelon slices, holding their mother’s hand.

It was all so beautiful, you’d found yourself almost crying above your bright, laughing smile, for reasons you couldn’t put into words. You’d never seen or experienced such a homey celebration before, full of such simple feelings of community and shared happiness. Arthur had given it to you, and he’d even slipped his hand into yours to bring you closer and make you apart of it.

That day you never felt any worry about behaving as suavely as you could or being the hottest, most perfect date. Arthur’s presence had let you relax and enjoy the whole day, from beginning to end, as a friend in love with your best friend.

Now here you both are, married and shaken loose from the gang and trying for a baby of your own. Putting on an intimate little Independence Day celebration at your own home.

“John, could you pour a cup of Sprite for Jack please? Just halfway,” you hear Abigail ask from somewhere on the other side of the table.

After glancing up to see her walking towards the table, you turn to your right to find the now five-year-old Jack reaching on tiptoes with his little arm outstretched and his tongue tucked over his top lip for the big, open green liter bottle on the table with his red plastic cup in his other hand. You notice John is several feet behind him, and though he turns to look at Jack, he won’t get there in time to keep him from tipping the bottle unless he immediately runs over, which he isn’t doing.

“Oh, I can help you with that,” you say with a smile, smoothly stepping to the side and pouring the soda into Jack’s cup.

“John!” Abigail quietly rasps through gritted teeth, her tone laced with a sharp, exasperated reprimand.

“What?” he shrugs with a mouthful of hamburger patty. “I’m all the way over here!”

When you hear Abigail sigh, you avert your wide eyes from what you’re sure is to be yet another argument.

“He’s your son! Not hers!” you hear her begin as she walks towards John. “And did you even wonder why he wasn’t comfortable askin’ you for help in the first place?”

Thankfully, as you walk towards Arthur, the sounds of the argument fade to indecipherable.

You have to smile at the sight of Arthur’s focused face, heather navy blue henley unbuttoned at the collar and rolled up to the elbows, and hunter green apron. Smoothing your expression, you step to his side and reach to drape your forearm atop his tall, broad shoulder.

“Goin’ all right over here, chef?” you ask with a mock serious tone.

“Yeah—” he offers a truncated grunt, pinching and turning one of the patties with his long metal tongs, and taking another off the grill and setting it on a plate on the side. “Just about done.”

After a few moments, you can’t keep from scrunching your nose, chuckling, and letting your bright smile show. You slip an arm through his and around to his back.

“I don’t think you look silly at all; I think an apron suits you,” you say, drawing close and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Oh yeah?” he quietly mumbles in a sheepish tone.

“Look like a daddy already.”

He releases a huff of air through his smiling cheeks and rolls his eyes up and away from you.

Pressing in even closer, you kiss his earlobe and mumble quietly, “Would look even better with…only the apron.”

You notice the corner of his mouth curl as he turns and pulls his chin back to face you. “That so.”

“Mm-hm,” you nod. “Maybe you can manage that tomorrow mornin’.”

“Oh! I see!” he chuckles with a wide smile and lifted brows, causing you to giggle. “Are you tryin’ to finagle a package deal of gettin’ laid and gettin’ served breakfast, Mrs. Morgan?” he asks, squinting and letting his gaze slide over to you.

Grinning and biting your lip, you nod. “Either way, I’m gonna sex you up tonight,” you say, your voice even and sure. Then you lean in and press your lips beside his ear to whisper, “So don’t overeat.”

Turning to stand beside him and keeping your posture inconspicuous, you quickly spank his rear. He gives the tiniest jump that you notice before you walk off.

Arthur is left standing there, releasing the breath he’d secretly been holding, wagging his head to play off how affected he is by you, and contemplating that it must be a crime in some places for a person to be as sexy as you are to him.

Hours later, as the sun is lazily drooping behind the skyline of trees, you’re popping the lid off a lager for yourself with the heel of your hand against the wooden table.

“Yeah, that spot is perfect,” you call over to Arthur and John, who are arranging a couple huge tester fireworks between the grass and gravel of your driveway. “Grass ain’t even ‘sposed to be there; it’s crab grass,” you chuckle, anticipating the black marks on the ground as you lift the bottle’s lip to your mouth. “Burn it up!”

“Are y’all sure we won’t miss the county’s show if we’re busy with our own?” Abigail asks in her pleasant twang as she puts ear muffs on Jack and nestles with him on the edge of the truck bed that’s parked several dozen yards away.

“Nah, they don’t start ‘til dark thirty—half an hour after the sun goes down,” John answers as he twists the Roman candle into the gravel until it doesn’t rock or budge.

“Been a few years, huh?” you hear Arthur mumble quietly to John, and something light and feathery fills your chest at the hint of unburdened, wry camaraderie edging his tone.

“You could say that,” John chuckles in his hoarse voice.

“Just make sure you don’t get those bushy eyebrows singed off like last time,” Arthur says a little louder.

“What?!” Abigail almost shrieks.

“Your husband’s an idiot is all, nothin’ unusual,” Arthur drawls lackadaisically as the gravel shifts beneath his western work boots.

“Elaborate immediately,” you chuckle before taking another swig.

“He always lingers!” Arthur gestures vaguely towards the Roman candle. “Even after enough time passes that you think, ‘Surely, now he’ll run.’ Get the fuse goin’, and he can’t tear himself away. He’s like an addict. Like a goddamn fire glutton.” Resting his hands on his belt, he limply turns his head to look at him with a knowing pinch to his crows’ feet. “And once, a teenage John Marston lingered a few seconds too long. That was the very last time we did this.”

“Oh my God…” you whine a laugh as you cover your mouth, imagining the smoke above his eyes and the curl of the few strands of damaged hair left.

“And you’re tellin’ me he ain’t had any experience doin’ this since?” Abigail asks.

“Well plenty before, but not since,” Arthur shakes his head as he bends to reach forward and secure the second Roman candle.

“John Marston, you just better not,” she says.

“Would you all just lighten up! Jesus!” John rasps in a high tone. “Can’t even prove I’m a grown ass man around here!”

“Well here’s your chance, Marston,” Arthur says, giving his head a tip.

After fanning out a blanket over the grass a few feet to the right of the truck, you sit with your legs before you and bent at the knee. You watch as the men fuss and fidget with the fireworks for a few more minutes before deciding to light them.

The whoosh of the match, the ensuing sizzle of the fuses. With a hiss below his breath of, "Shyit," and a shout, Arthur hauls ass to the right. John tears cheek a few degrees in a different direction. With a sudden loud pop, the flare is sent way up into the sky with a glittering tail. It wiggles for a moment before erupting with a head-splitting bang that fills your ears and thumps in your chest. It shoots its sparkling embers throughout the dull twilight canvas with a clapping clatter. At the sheer volume, your shoulders shoot up, and your smiling mouth hangs agape.

“Whoo-eee!” John promptly hoots with a pitch that rings through the surrounding forests as he and Arthur emerge from their respectively chosen cover.

“Hot damn!” Arthur shouts with a growly timbre.

“God bless America!” John wheezes.

“‘At one there had a bite to it!”

After a beat of silence, you all hear the peal of a tiny scream and the tinkle of giggling laughter. You turn to see Jack clapping with a huge, elated smile.

“That was amaaazing!” he sings, his voice strangely wavy since he can hardly hear himself through the ear muffs. “More! Do more, do more!”

At the sound, all of the adults feel the tenseness in their shoulders release and feel themselves ease into their own delighted smiles.

“All right, that was just a dry run,” Arthur says with lit-up eyes and a winsome grin. “Let’s get ‘em all set up.”

With the sky darkened to a deep, inky blue and with the moon high in the sky, he and John proceed to arrange several fireworks in multiple distanced rows to keep each stage of the little show timed properly. Fiery fountains, spinning awesome blossoms, snapping firecrackers, screeching Piccolo Pete missiles, whirring Roman candles, and more. When they begin to light the fuses one by one, you huddle your knees closer to your chest.

They light off several sets, one right after the other, and a peculiarly sweet, earthy scent similar to gunsmoke reaches your nostrils. With each new eruption high into the sky, you throw your head back to watch. You scream and hoot, smiling and laughing and clapping like a little kid.

Arthur is almost caught up with lighting set after set in a timely manner to keep the show continuous. He loves the spectacular play of sparkling light, the flashes of color through the dark sky. He even enjoys the rush of excitement through his veins, the pounding in his chest, and the sudden booms and crackles in his ears. But he glances in your direction just in time to see your upward-tilted face and your stunning smile. He spares a few moments to watch you bring your chin down and look forward again as the next firework bursts and blooms, shining more light across your face. It catches in your eyes, and for a moment all Arthur sees is the twinkling glimmer of joy reflected there. And he knows there is no firework that doesn’t pale in comparison to the beauty of that smile, the joy in those radiant eyes, or how precious you are to him.

Before long, the pair are on their final set of fireworks. You watch as Arthur stoops with the lighter. He flinches but dares to stay a moment longer to ignite the last long fuses. But though Arthur darts and makes it several yards away, John remains, standing beside the projectile, bent at the waist and gazing dazedly at the dancing sparks of the hungry fuse.

It all happens so fast.

“Marston!” Arthur hollers. “Run like hell!”

But John doesn’t seem to hear him. The light of the spitting spark plays across his face in a brutal, menacing cast of orange against the black atmosphere of night.

“Get your ass outta there, you idiot!” Arthur shouts again over the sizzling sound of the fuse.

John simply peers at the spraying light.

Your heart thuds faster as panic rises in time with the fuse that speeds towards its target, and you glance back and forth between the moving sparkle and John’s hunched, shadowy form.

Arthur steps closer, hurling warnings his way. Abigail screams her own warning.

Still, John remains.

Finally, at the same moment that the projectile is lit and launched into the air, out of nowhere Arthur tackles him to the ground a few feet away. The firework bursts in a shimmering display overhead, but no one pays any mind to it. Your attention is fastened to the struggling form of John and Arthur as they shift and rise.

“…goddamn moron!” you hear Arthur yell as he shoves John in the chest a couple times.

“I’m fine, it’s fine!” is John’s airy plea.

“Wanna get yourself killed?!” Arthur growls and heaves, his voice steely and ferocious as he glares at him with a tight, wrathful stance.

After a few moments of silence in the stillness and dark of night, a snorted, bubbling laugh arises from somewhere.

Arthur and John start to spin and look around. It takes a moment for you to realize the sound of relieved, disbelieving laughter is your own. They turn to find you toppling over to the side on your blanket, holding your belly and chortling and cackling uncontrollably.

The two of them stand there for another several moments. But the sound of your laughter is involuntarily loosening the rage in each muscle of Arthur’s body, one by one. First, John starts to quietly wheeze. Then, a few mindless, incredulous huffs arise from deep in Arthur’s chest. In no time, the two of them are snickering hysterically.

Unable to find a suitable word for the ridiculousness of it all or to chide in the midst of his relief, Arthur simply wags his head and walks away. You open an arm to him as he takes a seat beside you on the blanket.

John walks over to hop up and sit on the tailgate of the truck on the other side of Jack. Abigail promptly smacks the side of his arm.

“Gave me a heart attack!” she whispers before removing Jack’s ear muffs.

You all sit gazing up at the twinkling pinpricks of light in the sky and listening to the pleasant, creaking chirp of crickets until the county’s fireworks start. When the flashes light up the sky, you can see the beautiful show in the distance just over the tops of the trees. Jack oohs and aahs, gasping and pointing out each of his favorite types of fireworks.

Sitting beside and slightly behind you, Arthur scoots in closer, wrapping you in his big arms. You snuggle into him, closing your eyes when you feel him plant sweet kisses to your cheek. After managing to press a kiss to his lips, you finally let your head rest back on his shoulder with a sigh and turn your face towards him. He immediately meets your mouth for a full and surprisingly passionate kiss, quickly deepening it and sweeping his tongue into your mouth.

From her spot on the tailgate, Abigail glances your way and has to look back at the two of you. Your throat is fully extended as you rest your head back on his shoulder. Your arm nearer Arthur is outstretched before his chest, your hand sliding up his neck into his hair. She notices the brief, glinting flash of your wedding ring. And his arm that isn’t wrapped behind you is draped over your bent knees, his hands splaying over your bare, smooth legs. Even at a distance of a dozen feet, she notices the subtle way your open mouths move together as you kiss.

Such easy affection and passion between you, she thinks to herself.

Without thinking, her eyes flit to John where he sits on the other side of Jack. Jack himself is still completely enraptured by the show overhead. But instead of watching the fireworks, John is also taking note of the two of you.

As she watches John’s face, she can’t help but contemplate all the things that have led to such warm affection becoming a stranger to their own relationship. Outcroppings of selfishness and resentment on John’s part, of resentment and anger on her own part. Years of overgrowths of misunderstanding and isolation. And somehow, they’ve both let it all happen.

Her gaze on John stutters. She glances back to find you two gently pulling away with shared smiles as you slowly press tender little kisses to each other’s lips. When you both resume watching the fireworks, she glances back at John, expecting her gaze to remain covert. But she is met by John’s eyes on her.

After a few moments, his eyes falter. But he lifts them again and intentionally holds her gaze. Without a word, he reaches over Jack and brushes a hand to her back.

[little-pup-pip]

Just curious, what requests do you have in your queue/to do currently? If you're ok with saying it that is :]

Oh boy, that's a bigger question than last time someone asked! I have over 200 waiting requests at this point!! Because of that this got very very long, so I put the rest under the cut! Like last time, this is in order of how recently I received the request, and doesn't mean I'm too busy to take new requests!!

Ibara saegusa (enstars)

Monochrome oranges cats and angels

Gloomy bear

Another rockruff (maybe)

Cult of the lamb (specifically the lamb)

Llewellyn Watts (Murdoch Mysteries)

Jake (trailer park warlock)

Cult of the lamb (pet dreaming themed)

Bear therian

Selkie

Ice bear (we bare bears)

Tubbo (maybe)

Snow leopard

Pink

Australian shepherd (pupre)

Cassie (fnaf: ruin)

Draik (neopets)

The rainbow fish

Black kitten + space

Pumpkin head (maybe, needs more research)

Alice in wonderland

Sheep

Someone's OC Avery & siblings

Gothic

Star catcher (MLP)

Masc version of my druid board

Scrooge CG (2009 film)

Beetlejuice

Superstar daycare (fnaf)

1950s + ocean

Pandas + light purple and black

Dandelions

Willy wonka CG (recent movie)

Maki Harukawa (Danganronpa)

Kidcore Halloween + pumpkin puppy Webkinz

Fruit bat

Mermaid

Pastel purple + pandas

Robocar Poli

Brown, lime green and forest green puppy

Weird Barbie CG

Shiny Vaporeon

Where the wild things are

Squid

Dylan (the magic roundabout)

Conner CG (Detroit become human)

Mitsuri kanroji (demon slayer)

Minecraft mooshrooms

Sharks or wolves (haven't decided)

Hot Wheels

Miffy

Fox

Sharks

Zombies

Vincent (dead plate)

Vintage kitty dreaming

Deadpool

Shane CG (stardew valley)

Wolf pup

Celestia and Luna (MLP)

Soft blue and yellow

Pascal (animal crossing)

Pastel blue and pink

Batman CG

Ram

Osamu dazai (bungo stray dogs)

Dylan (the quarry)

Rain/nature + white rabbits

Ox

Penguin + dinosaur

Noah (total drama island)

Vision CG (marvel)

Light blue

Bumble bees + lavender

Yellow + ducks

Bearded vulture

Barn owl

Queen barb (trolls world tour)

Oliver (vocaloid)

Light green light brown and beige

Mind (Chonny Jash/CCCC)

Cinnamoroll + emu otori (project sekai)

Yellow+ chicks and puppy stuffies

Seam CG (deltarune)

Plants vs zombies

Viktor (arcane)

Queen of trash CG (Elmo goes to grouch land)

John Constantine (Justice League Dark)

Aziraphale (good omens)

Scenecore

Musa (winx club)

Leap frog

Hyper feminine puppy

Crow + black cat

Totodile + bodies of water

Bees

Sackboy (Little Big Planet) and or My Melody

Baby crocodile

Animal crossing

Pastel kitten

Doki doki literature club

Keralis (Hermitcraft, maybe)

90s grunge

Tula tones (novi stars)

Eevee + dragons

Kitten + stars

Ratchet (rescue bot academy)

Pastel shark

Mikan Tsumiki (Danganronpa)

Mushrooms

Grey + Ross federman youtooz

Sparkly dragon

Blue and purple + puppies

Ducks + alt/Gothic lean

Cinnamoroll

Shadow (sonic)

Jellyfish

Boyfriend.xml (Friday night funkin')

Puppet (fnaf)

Golden retriever + yellow and blue

Bernese mountain dog

Strawberries

Genshin impact

Len or Miku

Toothless (httyd)

Eddworld

Donnie (rise of the tmnt)

The princess and the grilled cheese sandwich

Pastel goth princess

SpongeBob

Karako Pierot (hiveswap)

Young Michael Afton

Soft fox

Great pyrenees + farm

Ike eveland

Invader Zim + neon green

Julius Caesar (Octavian, night at the museum, waiting until March for this one)

Scorpion

Vampire squid

Golden retriever (again, lol)

Cats + playing outside

Border Collie

Tiger

Argos CG (World of Mr. Plant) 

Pochacco

Mortal Kombat

marble cross fox/forest/fantasy (I'm figuring this one out still)

Puppy + SpongeBob

characters from Project Sekai, Hoshino Ichika, Mochizuki Honami, Akiyama Mizuki and Kusanagi Nene.

Baby vulture

Frog with more fem themes

Rain world/slugcat

Dark academia/cottagecore

Border Collie

Modded smash hit rooms

Crying child (fnaf)

Agent Smith CG (the matrix)

Katamari

Enjolras (les miserable)

Rolfe DeWolfe CG (Rockafire Explosion)

Bugbo

Slime rancher

Puppet (fnaf)

CosMc's

Parado (Kamen Rider)

Tally hall

Gordon (all engines go)

Spinel (Steven universe)

Cater diamond (twisted wonderland)

Rockabilly (probably)

Felix Lee

Jing yuan CG (Hsr)

Charles Xavier CG (X-Men)

Toki wartooth (metalocalypse)

Naoto Shirogane (persona 4)

Kitoto (I don't know what he's from)

17th century dutch

Sirena von boo (monster high)

Jake (miss peregrines home for peculiar children)

Minecraft

Sees behind trees

Allay (Minecraft, I think)

Spinosaurus screenshots or products

Tecchou (Bungo Stray Dogs)

Barbara (genshin impact)

Tasmanian devil

Spamton CG (deltarune)

Spinosaurus

Grunge + lop eared bunnies

Yume-Nikki

Daxter (jak and daxter)

Madness combat for puppies

James Sunderland (silent Hill)

Shirokuma (Danganronpa)

Leo (IDW comic)

[bexorok]

Poorly written Sonic Movie 3 pitch/outline

I’ve never really written anything in a script format, but I had so many thoughts about the next movie that I had to write them out otherwise my brain would actually explode. I’m kind of bouncing around with scenes I think should be in the movie as well as character introductions. Hope people find some enjoyment out of these!

This is the first couple of scenes I wrote out. I also had a little blurb about the opening credits, but it’s kind of just what the rumored trailer for Sonic 3 reviled at cinamacon was, so there’s not much point of it. Basically, Robotnik now looks like his original game design, and that’s all you really need to know

Introduction Scene

interior, prison island

Sirens are blaring and red lights are going off. We see automated doors closing, followed by an explosion. When the smoke settles, we see Stone and Robotnik together in a walking mech, destroying all doors that close in front of them. Military robots fight back but can do nothing against him.

They enter a final room at the end of the corridor. Inside we see a capsule that’s completely sealed.

Robotnik: We've hit the jackpot, Stone! Right inside this capsule is the key to ultimate power, and finally destroying that pesky hedgehog and his friends once and for all! I will finally have the power to rule over this world, and even more!

(Insert gay pining from Stone, we all know it’s canon)

Robotnik instructs Stone to search the files for the password to enter. He scrolls through the data for a moment before he comes across something.

Stone: M-A-R-I-A … really? A 5 letter password is protecting the key to ultimate power?

Robotnik: Remember Stone, this dusty bucket of bolts is over 50 years old. They were simpler times. Password decoders weren’t even invented, and our current program probably wouldn’t run on this hunk of junk.

He pauses a moment, seemingly thinking back.

Robotnik: Maria, huh? Haven’t heard that name in a long, long time. Still, I wouldn’t have thought of my grandfather as the sentimental type.

He walks over and types in the password. The capsule opens with a cloud of smoke, and an orange light reveals a figure not unlike Sonic’s. His eyes open and glow red as the restraints around him detach.

Robotnik and Stone stare in awe as he steps out. He kneels to the ground on one knee.

Shadow: I am Shadow, the ultimate lifeform, created by doctor Gerald Robotnik. You have awakened me, which can only mean you seek the ultimate power.

Robotnik yells in exasperation: Yes! Finally, a creature who knows its master! Welcome to the team, Shadow the hedgehog

The camera zooms back, revealing prison island, going further until it shows the entire earth, zooming further to reveal space colony ARK. The rendition of “live and learn” from the original trailer plays as the logo for the movie is finally revealed, with ARK shown just underneath.

Cut to an overview of Green Hills, where we see the blur of sonic, quickly followed by tails and knuckles, all laughing and whooping. They go through the forests and mountains of Green Hills, eventually getting to the peak of a mountain top, where Sonic jumps off and is caught by tails. Knuckles follows, gliding next to them. They fly over a house, where we hear Tom shout to them.

Tom: Dinner is ready! Get here quick, before all the burgers and hotdogs are gone!

They all fly down, landing in the backyard, where Tom has the grill set up. At a table nearby, we see Maddie, Rachel, Randel, JoJo, and Ozzy sitting down. Tails quickly flies to a tree house connected to the garage.

Tails: Just have to grab something!

Knuckles steps to the side of the yard, opening what looks like a cellar door.

Knuckles: I will join you all in a moment. I must double check the emeralds status.

Tails flies back from a window in the tree house, carrying with him a gadget.

Tails: It's fine, Knux, we would have gotten an alert if anything happened to the emerald.

Knuckles: Fox, I trust nothing but my own eyes to confirm if the emerald is safe or not.

He opens the doors and goes down a dark flight of stairs.

Maddie: Let him go sweetie, you know how he gets when he’s away from the emerald too long.

Tom: Sonic, do you mind getting the plates from the kitchen?

In a flash, sonic runs inside the house and back again, setting a plate in front of each person at the table.

Tom: Thanks pal!

Maddie nudges Rachel, nodding her head.

Rachel: Alright, I’ll admit it, the weird little alien things are starting to grow on me, especially considering how much JoJo likes spending time with them. But I still don’t know if I want to move to this town.

Sonic: aw, come on, Green Hills is the best town ever! Pulse as long as we're here, it’ll be the safest town ever.

Tails: That's right! We’re patrolling every day, looking for signs of danger! And for the chaos emeralds, of course.

JoJo: Oh yeah, have you guys found any yet?

Tails: (laughs awkwardly) well, not yet. But as soon as I’m done with my tracking device, we’ll be able to use it to hunt them down!

He shows them the device in his hands. It has a radar map on it with a single, large blinking light next to the yard.

Tails: right now it can only detect the master emerald, but once we find a chaos emerald, I can use its energy frequency to find other similar frequencies.

JoJo: Wow! That’s so cool! Mom, can I help them look for the emeralds too?

Rachel: Woah, woah, woah. No way young lady, I can not have you running around the world, you’re still just a kid.

JoJo: but mom! Tails is, like, 8! I’m two whole years older than him! Why can’t I go on cool adventures?

Randal: because, you’re still a *human* kid. You can get hurt a lot more easily than these guys can.

Rachel: hold up, do you mean to tell me that that little scientist who makes bombs and guns is only 8?

Maddie: We were surprised too. You’d have no idea any of these guys were so young if you didn’t ask.

Sonic: mom! We aren’t that young! I’m 14 now, I’m basically a grown up.

Maddie: Okay, Mr. grown up. But most grown ups don’t like getting tucked into bed every night.

Sonic: MOM!

Everyone at the table laughs, and Tom comes to the table with a plate of hot dogs and burger patties. Maddie looks over at Tails, who is still tweaking with his tracker.

Maddie: Miles Prower-Wachowski, what did I say about gizmos at the dinner table?

Tails: oops, sorry mom!

He puts the radar down, where the camera zooms in on the blinking light. We then fade to the room in the cellar. An automated door with an eye scanner blocks the way, and we see Knuckles take the last few steps down the staircase. He approaches the door and puts his eye near the scanner. A red laser appears and scans his eye, confirming his identity and unlocking the door. It opens, and inside the room we see a small shrine (designed after the shrine from sonic adventure 1) and resting on it is the master emerald. Knuckles nods in content.

Knuckles: as long as I am here, no harm will come to the emerald ever again.

[kumoriyami-xiuzhen]

Hakuoki Ginsei Shinpachi Short Story

This story was originally published in B's-LOG 2020年6月号.

Hakuoki Tsukikage B’s Log 2020年6月 Shinpachi Short Story “Uzuki (卯月)” [which means the 4th month of the lunar calendar]

Translation by KumoriYami

"An eye for green leaves, The Mountain Cuckoo The First Bonito [*see endnotes]"

As I suddenly remembered these five-seven-five stanzas , I stopped the hand which was cutting vegetables to recite it.

The stimulating aroma of food filled the kitchen in the daytime.

In response to my sudden statement, Chizuru, who was dissolving miso paste in that moment next to me, was startled.

"Those sentences just now, have you heard them before?"

"I've heard it in Edo. The vibrant green leaves, the chirping cuckoos, and the leaves are also vibrant, the cuckoos are chirping, and the season for catching bonito [type of fish]—That's a haiku that celebrates spring, right?"

"That's right!

"If you're from Edo, you can't help mentioning it, because it's a symbol of spring [refers to the f! Speaking of which…"

I clenched my fist at Chizuru, who still seemed confused, and spoke.

"Chizuru! I believe we should have the first bonito now!"

".......Huh?......"

"Fortunately, I don't have any patrol work today. If not at noon, can we have it at dinner/I can't have dinner without lunch, right [not sure bout the latter sentence]?

After speaking enthusiastically about my passion for bonito.

Chizuru-chan looked at me with a troubled expression in response to my wilful words.

"Um, Well, I understand how you feel... but if you were in Edo, it might be possible, but it's hard to find bonito on the streets of Kyoto..."

I understand your feelings… but, while that would be fine in Edo, it's extremely difficult to buy bonito on the streets of Kyoto..."

"That's right..."

I forgot that Kyoto was located far inland and distant from the sea, and that there were only rivers and lakes, like Lake Biwa, and bonito cannot live in rivers…

"I think it'd be hard to find bonito, but what about something else? I'd like to do that to help you."

After accepting Chizuru-chan's proposal, we began searching separately.

"Yo, Sano! I'm trying to find a first of the season [the tl I'm referencing just says "first thing" but i modified my translation based on what what "hatsumono" is, which usually refers to the first of the season for produce, catch (as in fish), etc.], so can't you provide some sake?"

"What first of the season. We drink all year round, right?"

"Hijikata-san, can you give me for the first of the season?"

"I don't have a first of the season… right, I can give you a lecture on your lifestyle."

"Uh... you're always unromantic…"

After leaving headquarters, and wandering around the streets, I had absolutely no results. Should I just give up?

"Nagakura-san, I found a first of the season!"

The one who saved me walked like a goddess. Her hands lifted the bamboo shoots in her hands, which had been dirtied by soil. Her cute face was covered in dirt/mud.

I suddenly understood how much she had gone through, and I couldn't help but feel warmth swelling up inside my heart.

Chizuru-chan grilled the bamboo shoots she found as a first of the season.

Each time they were grilled, a fragrance wafted over. It really was a good choice.

"But, why did you say you wanted the first of the season?"

I scratched my face

With her asking that, I scratched my face.

"…Uh, that was… some people say that eating the first of the season can extend your life by 75 days. In this sort of life, when you don't know when you'll die, I hope everyone can eat this."

She seemed to understand my answer and smiled.

"...Nagakura-san, you're very kind/gentle."

"Th-That's right! Then I'll grill these first and give them to everyone! I really want to see their surprised faces!"

---end---

The haiku at the start of the story is by Yamaguchi Sodo, which was written in Edo, 1678 and reads:

目に青葉 (Me ni aoba)

山ほととぎす(yama hototogisu)

初鰹 (hatsu-gatsuo)

The printed story contains those exact lines but I copied the English translation and took the information on it from : https://matsuobashohaiku.home.blog/2021/07/06/the-signs-of-summer-1678/