#this has been an arty last few days

[deerlottie]

lottienat x reader for the fluff alphabet? 👀

forgive me i skipped a couple letters bc i didnt know how to respond 😭

a = affection; is anyone more overly affectionate than the others? when it comes to physical vs verbal, who prefers what? lottie is DEF the most affectionate!! she'll take anything - physical, verbal, it doesnt matter. nat, on the other hand, is definitely much more of a verbal type of person. she'll shyly asks how you are or whisper in your ear that she loves you ;( but she really does love to hold ur pinkyyy >___<

b = bed; what’s the sleeping situation like? are there regular sleeping arrangements - does anyone like to sleep alone? NATTY IN THE MIDDLEEEEEE!!!! she secretly loves it...she feels so comfy n cozy when you and lottie rest your heads on her shoulder/chest when sleeping :( it also helps her fall asleep faster.

c = comfort; when someone’s feeling down, how do the rest look after them? nat shows it more in actions than words. if you or lottie are feeling down, she'll bring your favorite food or just get in bed and cuddle without saying anything. lottie just really wants to help and will do anything in her power to make you two feel better. she knows sometimes you or nat don't like to talk about your feelings so she'll talk for you. just letting you know she's here for you without trying to baby you too much yk. but if you wanna be pampered she can do that!!!!!!!

d = dates; what do dates look like? who usually plans them, or are is it a group affair? usually you or lottie plan them! nat is perfectly fine with just staying at home and being with you two so going out doesnt really matter. but, if lottie really wants to take you two to the mall and steal shop for you guys, she's more than willing. even tho she'll grumble the whole time about how she could be comfy on the couch >_> and it's most definitely a group affair. if anyone's missing, it just doesn't feel right.

e = events; who drags everyone else to their family/friends’ events? lottie....if we're talking pre-crash, she ABSOLUTELY needs you and nat at a family event. she just cant handle it alone. even though it's still shitty, you two being there with her makes it even just a little better :3

f = fights; are arguments something that happen often? what are they over, and how are they resolved? usually over jealously i feel..nat knows that you both love her equally but she cant help but get insecure sometimes :( it'll just be a bad week for her and she sees you and lottie be overly affectionate and it gets to her head. slight yelling match that ends up with her or all of you crying but lottie's always so good with resolving fights :( if it's lottie starting an argument, i feel it'd last a few days until she eventually realizes how stupid it was to get angry over and bashfully comes crawling back with gifts and apologies

g = getting together; how did it all come about? were there any pre-existing relationships between them? i love the idea of you being with lottie and nat just being like "scoot over, i love yall!!" 😭 there was always this obvious tension between you three and nat would always make 'jokes' about threesomes but she was serious!!!! she's lowkey been trying to tell you but shes sick of u and lottie not taking the hint so she just blurts out that she wants to be with both of you during a hangout

h = hobbies; does anyone share any hobbies/passions? how do they include the rest of their partners in them? perhaps self indulgent...but lottie's really into photography! specifically film. she has her own darkroom in a spare bathroom and you and nat helped her set it up :3 she loves to take pictures of you and nat too :( almost half her rolls are of you two and she's made a couple of prints that she has hung up on a wall. i've posted about this before but nat is your little arty farty gf 😇 you n lottie are her biggest sources of inspo and she has dozens of paintings/sculptures that she's made for you. she loves watching you try and make something for her using any medium >_< once, you stole some of her clay and made her a cigarette tray with tits on it 😭😭 they looked more like lumps but she got the vision <3

i = in sickness and in health - when someone falls ill, who’s the carer and who’s the germaphobe? is there anyone that resists being looked after? lottie is most def the carer :3 she loves to pamper you and nat whenever youre sick like she'd genuinely do anything you ask. when nat's sick, she'll act like it's the end of the world and pretend to hate the way lottie babies her but we all know she secretly loves it...esp those tummy rubs.

j = joker; who’s got the best sense of humour? do they like to tease and banter with everyone else? natty :p shes the jokester of the group, along with van, and plays the most pranks. she knows her limits with teasing tho. she learned her lesson when she accidentally made you cry and lottie yelled at her

k = knowing; who can read their partners like a book? is there anyone who’s got their walls up, even around their partners? lottielottielottie!!! she knows what's wrong from a mile away. and of course shes the best gf ever so she knows what to do. nat definitely still has some walls up but she's working on communicating her feelings with you both :(

l = lavish; is there anyone who really likes to treat their partners/show them off? how do the rest tend to react - who revels in it, and who’s made shy by it? you love being shown off.. i feel like they'd do it the same amount?!!! lottie being like "and one lemonade for my beautiful girlfriend/boyfriend, please, waiter!" at a cafe and ur just hiding behind the menu and blushing.

m = memories - is anyone more on the sentimental side? secretly nat...catching her looking thru old photos and stroking them 😭😭 she'll act like she was just looking for a specific one or just throw the book at you while running away LMAO

n = nights; what’s the nighttime routine like when they’re all together? you all really just fall asleep when you feel like it. sometimes nat falls asleep on the couch but she'll always wake up and go back in bed :( you and lottie have more a routine of falling asleep together (she's the little spoon)

p = pda; what’s pda like with them? is there anyone who loves it, and anyone who’s less fond of it? what actions/words does it manifest as? they're all for it!!! some days nat just wants to hold your hand and that's it, but when she's feeling really needy or lovey dovey, she's all up on you!!!! lottie is much more affectionate and acts like those couples in the hall in high school....

s = sharing; is there anyone who’s particularly territorial of their partners? nat :33333 someone will make the mistake of flirting with you/lottie at a party and Will ruin their whole night and you end up having to hold nat back from punching them 😭 LOTTIE THO....when she gets jealous it's genuinely scary....she wont talk and will just stare daggers at whoever is trying to take you or nat until they leave.

t = terms of endearment; nicknames! who’s crazy on them, and who do they make cringe? what’re the go-to’s? both pretty chill on them i feel!? nat especially. the most she'll call you is babe or baby. lottie will use honey, dear, angel, and ofc baby/babe :3

v = vacations; how do holidays go? are they big exotic trips, or the occasional staycation? when nat plans the vacations, it's usually a staycation. there's really nothing more she loves than just chilling at home with you two on her side and watching a movie or show. she doesnt need to book a fancy and expensive hotel to show her love. lottie on the other hand... they're not too grand but she loves europe...France is her favorite...perhaps just an excuse to show off her french skills

x = xoxo; who checks up on their partners a lot when they’re apart? do they call, or are texts enough to make them feel close? they both text you constantly, even when you're just at the store. they dont really call that much unless it's an emergency or they just really miss your voice. nat really blows up your phone tho...esp when you're in class like she's asking about ANYTHING because she just wants to talk to you

y = yearn; who misses their partners the easiest (ie, calls them to hear their voices when all they’ve done is run to the grocery store)? ^NATTY. lottie will show how much she missed you when you get home by not letting you go until she thinks she's okay again (shes dramatic).

z = zealous; who was especially eager in their pursuit of the relationship? was anyone more reserved in their want for it? you were all pretty open and okay with letting nat in and no one had any doubts or hesitation!! it was the best decision of your lives!!!!! nat was eager to be let in tho LMAO she just really loved you guys </3

[gimmethosedaddymilkers]

More Arthur Morgan Headcannons

You guys really liked the Arthur Morgan headcannons last time (over 200 notes!) so I’m just gonna write some more out of the top of my head because why not?

Don’t forget to check out my newest 18+ NSFW excerpt from my rdr2 fanfic. It’s not for everyone, it’s an original character instead of an insert, but it’s on my page if you’re interested! 

Anyway, headcannons are under the cut! 

Arthur Morgan is a man who will beat himself up. No matter how small the issue, no matter what it was, maybe it wasn’t even his fault, but he’ll make himself believe that it was in fact his fault.

You tripped? 

His fault. He was distracting you. 

You sneezed?

Yep, his fault, he must have brought a cold to camp, and he kissed you, his fault. 

No matter what, some small, tiny little inconvenience, if he can link it back to himself, he will and he will blame himself. 

You have to convince him it isn’t his fault, and after a lot of talking eventually he will cave and say: “Well, maybe it ain’t my fault...” and then you have to do just a little bit more convincing because then he’s gonna ask repeatedly: “Can I do somethin’ to help you at least?” 

Arthur is also a man who does literally everything in his power to irritate/ rile you up. It’s hilarious to him. When nothing has happened and he isn’t busy trying to sit there and blame himself, he’s actually really loose and fun.

He loves to see you beet red in the face, and watching you get mad is funny enough he almost pissed himself once. He couldn’t remember the last time he laughed that hard. 

Hell you made him laugh so hard one time that he actually physically fell backwards on his ass, and while under normal circumstances he would have been embarrassed, he couldn’t even care that there was mud on his pants, not when he couldn’t breathe between chuckles. 

Arthur refuses to show you his Journal, he also refuses to show you what’s in his satchel. He’s easily embarrassed by the fact that he draws you all the time, and he’s afraid that he doesn’t do you justice. He feels like there’s no way in hell he could ever properly draw you out, and he doesn’t want you to see his ‘awful attempt’ at trying to show what he sees.

He knows you’re absolutely fantastic, beautiful, gorgeous, handsome, whatever you’d like to be called. He loves you to no ends, but he feels like he just can’t ever get the perfect look.

It never measures up to what he sees in his head, and he doesn’t want you to see it until he can get it just right.

You’ve seen a few sketches, on accident, you weren’t snooping, he left it open on the table next to his cot. 

He made you look absolutely stunning. Every little detail he captured was just down to the T. 

You didn’t know what to do, you decided it was best not to say anything, but the fact that Arthur saw you like that made you tear up every time you thought about it. 

Every once in a while you call Arthur “Mr. Morgan.” and he thinks that he’s upset you, and in reality he hasn’t done anything at all, you just think it’s funny to call him that rather than Arthur, or Art, or Arty, or any of the other various nicknames for him, because he’ll push out that bottom lip of his and furrow his brow as he tries to figure out what he did earlier. 

Though then you have to reassure him he didn’t do anything wrong, and then he’ll probably call you an ass before giving you a kiss.

Arthur’s favorite color, other than blue obviously, is actually red, he doesn’t know why, he hates dealing with blood, despite the fact that it’s on him more often than not, so it doesn’t make much sense to him as to why he’s so attracted to that deep maroon, but if you ask him what it is he’ll tell you both blue and red. 

Though he thinks that’s a stupid question.

His least favorite chore around camp is chopping wood. His back hurts, he rides a horse all day and he doesn’t have any back support, nothing for his lumbar, so chopping wood would, you think, crack his back, however it cracks it in the worse possible way. 

Sometimes its so bad that if he chops wood and just cracks his back the wrong way then he has to lay in his bed for a day or two, it’s too hurtful to move. 

Arthur braids your hair, he doesn’t think about it, it just happens, he gets bored and your hair is right there, and before you know it your hair is braided and the only reason it’s done so well is because he braids his horse’s tail. 

Sometimes you braid his, when he lets it grow long enough. He feels like it looks stupid, but you think it looks sweet. 

You put it up in a ponytail sometimes too, and again, he thinks it looks stupid and hates the way he looks with it, but you think he looks wonderful, and you do your best to try and convince him to keep it up like that. 

Sometimes, if you’re lucky he will.

Not only that, but Arthur sometimes cuts his hair short and grows his beard long, you’ll braid his beard and he looks like a Viking. You think it’s hot as hell. 

He does like this look better, and he will keep it for a long while, sometimes you can even convince him to grow out his hair longer too to complete the Viking look.

When he looks like that, you boost his confidence with all the compliments you give him. Though to be fair you give him a bunch of compliments anyway. 

Arthur loves sleep.

As much as he is awake and running around.

He’d sleep all day if he could, sleep all day, all night, and literally do anything he could to just sleep. Doesn’t matter where he is, how uncomfortable the spot was, no matter what, he would do his best to nap.

You love to see him nap, or sleep, it’s so attractive to see him sleep on his stomach, his hair all tousled and his arms under his head. 

He’s especially cute when he’s hardly awake and can barely speak.

“Arthur, are you awake?”

“Mhm...’m up.” 

“Are you really?” 

“Mhm.” 

“What are you doing today?”

“Hmh?” He shrugs.

He’ll look at you with half lidded eyes and a partially open mouth, trying to decipher what you’re telling him, but he’s not awake enough to fully comprehend what it is you’re trying to get him to understand. 

Sometimes you’ll see him napping against a rock or tree in camp, and sit next to him, lucky enough that he doesn’t wake up, and you’ll lean against him and take a nap there with him.

Usually by the time you wake up he’s managed to wrap his arms around you and pulled you into his lap. 

He snores too. 

Only sometimes, not all the time, but sometimes, usually on a day that he’s been running around, the days he’s been lounging around he doesn’t snore too much. 

When he does snore, it’s not too loud, but it can be annoying, but you’ve gotten so used to it that you just listen to it to fall asleep at this point.

When you try to tell him he snores he doesn’t believe you and claims that you do, but you can tell by the red in his face that he does believe you. 

[oumaheroes]

Hi so I’ve seen you answering some asks and I thought I’d send one myself. I know you don’t do much of soft Arthur and Alfred but if you could that would make my day. Maybe something with a delirious!Al and comforting!dad!Artie? I just need like a tender moment between those two, where they’re not fighting.

Thank you so much 😘😘

ALRIGHT.

You've all been asking for long enough- here's the start of a multipart mini story that has taken me longer than I'd care to admit to get going (three almost full attempts, to be exact)

Characters: England, America

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Wreckage: Part 1

The smoke was metallic: sharpened acid and modern warfare.

‘Hello!’

England pulled at the wreckage, bare hands flinching at the searing pain of handling too-hot metal. He wished he’d worn his leather gloves, wished he had thought to put them on a mere few minutes ago when the crunching whirr of broken engines and crashing trees had woken him, but they lay useless and forgotten back at his campsite.

‘Can you hear me! Allô! Pouvez-vous m’entendre!’

The plane wore allied colours. It was a British make but that didn’t mean anything these days- the pilot could belong to any of the allied official or resistance groups. All England knew was that there was to be a drop coming, they were in the middle of nowhere, and that it all had apparently gone horribly, horribly wrong.

‘English! French! Polish! Czy ktoś mnie słyszy- is anyone alive in there!’

The door to the craft was stuck shut, parts of the top hinges warped and buckled from impact. He gave up on opening it to try for the window, pounding at the thick glass with the butt of his gun in fool’s panic (that, at least, he had been sensible enough to bring). He could see someone inside through the thick black smoke, an outline of shoulders and head that seemed to be moving slightly whenever the flames behind them near the engine choked.

This was occupied French territory; the nearest village was a while away but not that far. This crash would be noticed and investigated all too soon. The least England could do was to get in there and end the pilot’s misery before whoever shot them down came looking, there was no help for them out here.

That, and to be sure that there was nothing incriminating to be found.

‘Hang on! Almost there.’ Stepping back, he scanned the forest floor wildly for something better to use and caught sight of a large stone, half buried in the ground by the roots of a tree. It had rained recently, the ground was soft, and England tore into the dirt impatiently to work it free.

‘If you can hear me, sit back!’ Raising the rock above his head, he brought it down with a crash in the lower centre part of the windshield, hopefully far enough away from the pilot’s face. A hairline crack appeared, nothing more, but it was enough. England raised the rock again, choking as the smoke whirled about him, and kept going until the glass had splintered into delicate, cobweb-like lines.

One last hit made a hole. Smoke billowed out immediately and England worked quickly before the flames grew too intense on the new oxygen supply, hacking away until the hole was big enough to push an arm through. His fingers found material, sticky with something England didn’t want to think about, and a weak hand that gripped him back.

Taking a last breath of mostly fresh air, England pushed his upper half through to get to the cockpit, groping about blind until he felt the pilot’s seat straps. The heat was ferocious already, fire just behind where the poor man was trapped, and England fought not to take a breath or retreat to the safety of the cool night air. He couldn’t keep his eyes open, couldn’t see, and the glass bit into his stomach and arms when he leant more of his weight on the frame. It was a struggle but he pushed through, fingers groping by muscle memory to where he knew the clasps were, where he’d need to unhook an arm from the straps to pull the man free.

It would have been far easier to shoot the poor bastard.

It would have been quicker, kinder, than this certainly. No matter what happened, England wouldn’t leave him to die naturally. To die that way- encased in smoke, lungs desperately straining for clean air that wouldn’t come, flames against your feet- was one he knew all too well. It was a horrible way to go, one that he wouldn’t wish on anyone, but cruel though it was to make this child suffer needlessly, the engines hadn’t exploded yet and he couldn’t risk it.

Get him out first. See what message he had to give, if he could give it. Then let him go quickly and cleanly, the knife against England’s thigh waiting and patient.

It took three return trips for air, each one making his lungs burn more and more until he felt light headed and dizzy, but eventually they were free. Pilot cleared from his seat and legs thankfully clear, England hooked his arms under the man’s armpits and heaved them backwards out of the cockpit. There wasn’t far to go, the plane had nosedived onto its side in its final crash from the now broken trees, and they rolled backwards easily onto the forest floor.

The pilot screamed shrilly as they came free and gripped tight on England’s clothes to then sob piteously in his arms.

‘It’s alright.’ England sat up as carefully as he could and gently rolled the man off him to lay on his back. ‘You’re alright, I’ve got you.’

The pilot was a mess, aviator goggles and hair under his cap blackened by soot or oil or both. There was blood all over him, smeared across his neck and front that likely came from his head- England couldn’t tell. There wasn’t the time for it, and it wouldn’t matter soon anyway.

‘Give me your name.’ he asked urgently, struggling onto weak knees to sit over him, ‘Your ID and nationality, I’m-‘

He stopped.

Later, England couldn’t quite say what it was. He hadn’t noticed in the rush what he could feel now- the itch of someone like himself close by. But there was more, perhaps something about the pilot’s body that was familiar, or something deeper than that which ran through them both like the unbroken lines of history. An indescribable connection of family that mortal language couldn’t quite explain.

Fingers clumsy with sudden, familiar, terror, England tugged at the goggles which covered the pilot’s eyes and pitched forwards breathless and horrified at what he found.

‘Oh Jesus- Alfred.’

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AN:

The historical research that has gone into this is minimal, so please be kind to any inaccuracies that you see.

[melodygatesauthor]

Chapter 2: Voices

prof!Steven Grant-Jake Lockley-Marc Spector X f!Reader

Mood Boards - Book Cover - Masterlist

Chapter Summary:

You and Steven both try desperately to put your forbidden feelings behind you, but you're both finding it extremely difficult. Steven starts worrying that he's hearing things.

Tags/Summary (these are for the ENTIRE fic):

college AU, no powers/not in MCU/no Khonshu, talk of mental illness, Marc has DID, forbidden relationship, age gap, reader is 21y/o, Boys are 38y/o, reader attends college in America but isn't necessarily American, smut, sex, masturbation, p in v, creampies galore, reader is on birth control, dubious consent due to identity issues, ANGST, romance, fluff and smut, oral sex, falling in love, reader is not race coded.

Word Count: 2.7k

You woke up the next morning feeling better than the night before. You’d resolved to forget about anything to do with Steven that didn’t involve schoolwork. He was just a history professor. Nothing more, nothing less. It was nearly ten, and Layla was already gone. You wondered how you had managed to miss her alarm, but it wouldn’t be the first time you’d slept through noises that could cause an earthquake.

Your first class wasn’t until eleven, giving you ample time to get ready for the day. When you left, and you saw the logo for Moonbean Coffee down the road, you thought about going in there for a second. You gulped, clutching your bag close to yourself. As you approached the glass doors, you noticed he wasn’t inside and let out a sigh of both relief and disappointment. A small part of you had hoped to see Steven at the counter.

When you walked inside you waved to the cashier who saw you and got started on your order. There was a poster on the wall that you decided to read over while you waited. It talked about different attractions in the area. Your eyes stopped on a local art gallery, and you couldn’t help but wonder if Steven was at all interested in art.

“Here you go!” T said.

She snapped you from your thoughts. You thanked her, paid and then took your warm drink. It was disappointing not to have your quirky walking partner today, but it was for the best; at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

As you approached the brick building, you pulled your schedule out of your bag. You’d forgotten the room number for your creative writing class. Room 301 with Professor Harrow. You’d had a class with him a couple years ago and always remembered him being nice enough. His voice was soft, and he was understanding when you missed a couple of assignments due to poor time management.

When you got to the room, there was a guy you’d had writing classes with before, Cameron, sitting next to the only open seat. You walked over and sat down next to him, giving him a friendly smile which he returned.

“Same professor, same room,” he chuckled, flashing his charming grin.

“Same seat.” You said, recalling that the two of you managed to sit in those seats the last time you were in Harrow’s class together.

Professor Harrow, or Artie as he liked to be called, walked to the front of the class with a calm smile across his face.

“Welcome class, did you all enjoy your winter break?” He asked, to which the class responded with a few lackluster ‘yeahs’.

“Good. I see some familiar faces.” He looked at you and Cameron. “And some unfamiliar ones.”

As much as you enjoyed listening to Artie’s lectures, he had a tendency to talk very slowly and lull you nearly to sleep. If not for the man on your left, you would’ve been reprimanded for falling asleep during the class. There was one thing that immediately perked you up though. You looked out to the hall through the open double doors as a familiar curly haired man walked by.

----------------------------

Steven’s morning began on an odd note. He woke up on his couch, television on a channel he didn’t frequently watch, and his alarm blaring. He didn’t remember setting an alarm. Steven groaned, sitting up and running his hands over his face. This had to be addressed, before it went much further. With a tired stumble, he made his way to the bathroom, hands on either side of the sink, eyes directly at his reflection. 

“If you’re in there, yeah, movin’ around and all, the least you can do is let me in on it.” He stared at his own reflection for a while, watching for any change, any sign of them. “Who was it? Was it you, Jake? Marc?”

Nothing. Not one sound.

“If you’re not going to talk to me, then leave me alone.”

He walked out to the living room again and started his day, getting his coffee brewing while he showered. You crossed his mind while he stood there washing himself. He felt guilty for touching himself the night before to the thought of you. It really was so wrong, and Steven normally behaved by the book.

When he’d finished, he went out to the kitchen in just his towel, grabbing a travel mug and filling it with his usual brew. He sort of wished he’d made his coffee himself yesterday. If he’d done that, he wouldn’t be trying to fight these new and confusing feelings he developed for you. He had just wanted to try the local coffee shop on his first day.

He found himself thinking about you more while he dressed himself. What was your favorite color? He was glad he didn’t know, or he might’ve tried to pick a tie to match. His cheeks were reddened by the thought of it, dressing in something that he hoped might catch your eye. He didn’t know if he could handle you looking at him again, though he knew he’d have to get over it sooner rather than later. You were his student after all. That’s all you were, just his student.

He didn’t live far from the building that his class was in, and he enjoyed the walk, even though it was chilly. When he was going by the familiar cafe that was Moonbean Coffee, he looked inside. 

There you were. 

His heart leapt and caught in his throat. If you turned around and caught him staring, it would be extremely awkward, but he needed to look, even for just one moment.

You were reading the poster on the wall, not looking in his direction at all. He remembered seeing it yesterday. Something on there made your lips quirk and he briefly wondered if you were also interested in the art gallery. He’d noticed it too when he was in there yesterday and it piqued his interest. When you turned to grab your coffee and leave, he knew his time was up and so he shuffled away quickly, not wanting you to catch him staring.

He got to the building without your noticing. He even watched you from the safety of his classroom as you walked by. You hadn’t even looked in to see if he was there. That was probably for the best; it meant you weren’t thinking about him as much as he was thinking about you and that was good. As his class ended a little while later, he continued to remind himself that you didn’t care, that you’d just casually walked by.

There was a paper he needed to make copies of, a handout for his next class on Ancient Greece, and a book he needed to borrow. With a smile on his face, and relief from the pressure of his impeding thoughts, he felt lighter as he walked toward the library.

Finally he was thinking about something other than you while he roamed the halls. He was thinking about the new show on TV he’d been waiting for. It also occurred to him that he didn’t do the crossword for the day yet. He smiled as he thought about stopping by the local diner to grab a bite and cozying up on the couch for a quiet evening in. Just him and Gus.

That is, until he looked into room 301, and you looked back, shattering all the thoughts in his mind.

You stiffened immediately. He even froze in the hall, catching your gaze. Your lips parted as you recalled the night you’d spent with your finger inside your soaking channel, wishing it were his instead. He moved away quickly, breaking your line of sight. Professor Harrow said your name, causing you to jump nearly out of your seat.

“Is there something much more interesting than this class happening in the hall?” He asked you, raising heat to your cheeks.

“U-um, no Mr. Harrow, I’m sorry it’s just…class was over five minutes ago and I have to get to my next class.” You gulped.

He squinted at the clock above the door and his lips curled into a humble smile.

“Would you look at that, it would seem I’ve become carried away once again. Well, I need that five page short story on my desk Thursday morning.” He said to the class. “Enjoy this beautiful day, folks.”

“He’s such a weirdo.” Cameron said, letting out a chuckle from behind you as you made your way to the door.

You giggled, “No kidding.”

You didn’t have another class for a couple of hours, meaning you could turn right and head to your dorm to pass the time with some TV or doing homework, but you were instead drawn to the left…where Steven had gone. 

There was only one thing in that direction you could imagine Professor Grant heading toward: the library. You should’ve turned right. You should’ve walked away right then and there, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. He was right there. He was right down the hall and you just needed to see him.

Your school had a decent selection of books, both fiction and nonfiction. It was two stories tall, one of the biggest libraries you’d ever been in. There were a couple of librarians tending to some students at the counter, and several other students in the various tables and study spaces around. The lighting was dim and relaxing, you could spend an entire day in there easily, and figured that you might do that the next time you needed a quiet place to study.

You couldn’t very well walk up to the librarians and ask them to tell you where the frazzled looking british man went when he walked in there. Instead, you listened. Steven was anything but quiet in the short time you knew him.

“Bugger, this bloody machine!”

As you’d suspected, he gave himself away too easily. You still shouldn’t have been there, chasing after your history professor like a lost puppy, but you couldn’t help yourself. You heard him smacking something when you walked by several shelves of books to see him in the printer room, fighting with the machine.

“Steven?” You said softly.

“Yeah, yeah I’m trying to get this damn-” He turned around and finally noticed that it was you talking to him. “Oh…hi.” A dopey smile spread over his lips.

“Hey.” You said, returning the awkward smile.

He shook his head out of the fog it was under and slapped his hand on his thigh in frustration.

“This bloody thing, it…I can’t get it to work. I just need twenty copies of this one…” He turned back around, crinkling the sheet in his hand as he tried to pull it out of the printer.

“Steven, stop, Steven!” You said, grabbing his hand and putting your other palm on his back.

He stopped trying to pull on the paper, like your touch had frozen his body in place. You had moved to grab his hand so quickly you hadn’t really thought about the fact that you were touching the man who you’d masturbated to the night before. His hand was soft, you thought nervously, letting go as if he’d burned you and stepping back.

“I…erm…the machine, it…doesn’t work.” He said as if all the air had been removed from his lungs.

“Let me take a look. I used to help out at my dad’s office sometimes.” You squeezed around Steven and into the small space.

All the air had all escaped his lungs. The feeling of your fingers around his hand remained like a burn across his skin, branding him. He stepped back, giving you space to work. You were gentle in the way you opened the printer, pulling out the crumpled sheet of paper. You looked at him, holding the manhandled sheet, raising your eyebrows.

“You’re going to need a new paper to make copies with.” You said to him.

“It…it was my only copy and I thought, I thought I knew how to use a little printer. Got myself through a PhD, no problem.”

He watched you go back to work, completely dumbfounded. You straightened out the sheet. He was mad at himself for staring so longingly at every curve of your body. There was a little bit of your back showing where your shirt and the waist of your pants were supposed to meet. He found his hand pressing to his chest in sheer amazement of your beauty. He’d never felt so foolish as he did in that moment.

That was, until you bent down. He hadn’t backed up nearly far enough and your rear brushed against him. He stepped back quickly when you whipped your head around, eyes full of surprise. He raised his eyebrows sheepishly and stared at the floor.

“Sorry I-erm-I didn’t realize I was so close.” He said, nearly collapsing from embarrassment.

Settle down, pendejo.

“Sorry, what?” Steven said to you.

You stood and turned around, “What?”

His blood ran cold. That couldn’t have been…

“Sorry I thought you said something.” He muttered.

“No, I didn’t. How many copies did you say you needed?” You asked, waiting expectantly.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts, “erm, twenty.”

Amazingly, the deformed sheet went through without an issue, and the printer started spitting out pages. When you turned back around, you noticed Steven’s hands clasped in front of his nether region. You trailed up to look at his eyes, following his tie that coincidentally was your favorite color. A genuine smile spread over his face.

“Thanks for your help…” His toothy grin remained as you skirted by him.

“You’re welcome. See you in the morning.” You said, leaving the library quickly so your knees wouldn’t give out from shaking so hard.

For the rest of the day, he flooded your mind. Steven was a heavy cloud, sitting inside your cranium and soaking through you, deep into your core. His smile burned into your memory like a hot iron. You’d never felt like this about anyone, so why him? There were perfectly attractive men at your school that you could date. Perhaps Cameron would be interested in going out for coffee. There was no reason to be so infatuated with the one that you weren’t allowed to have, but you couldn’t help it.

Why did he have to look at you like that, like his brain shut down the moment his eyes fell on you? Every. Single. Time. Why did he have to stand so close to you while you worked on that damn printer? Why did you go to the library after seeing him walk that way in the first place? You should’ve walked to the right, back to your dorm, when you’d left Professor Harrow’s class.

Steven was asking himself the same questions, but particularly falling on the one regarding his close proximity to you while you fixed the printer. He stayed in the printer room for a while, even after the pages had finished spitting out of it, just willing his erection to cease before he went to his next class. You had his mind racing, only thinking about you.

He was ashamed to have given the class a simple writing assignment so he could spend his time thinking about you instead. The way you smiled, how your hand felt touching his, how your bum felt against him. He cleared his throat, catching the attention of several others in the room before they returned to their work. He looked down at his glasses, and there was a delay in his reflection, as though it were running behind. It was there, for sure. He saw it.

There was a delay…they’re back.

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[vendetta-if]

hello i have to Say i didnt play the game yet im actually going through the tags and im already in love with it (specially Ash)

And i have a few questions :

What would be Luka and jackal reaction to see kotsya bonding with his cousin vendetta MC? especially if MC is like Viktor 2.0?

What is MC full name ? Is it something like : MC Viktoyevna Morozova if a girl? (basing on Alina name)

What would be jackal reaction if MC calls him uncle Arty?

I had another question but its too complicated for me to explain so im leaving it on stand by

Hope you have a good day

-sarah

Hi Sarah! 😄 Thanks for the kind words, and do let me know what you think once you've gotten around to reading my story! 💖 And hope you and everyone who's reading this have a good day!

As for your questions:

For first question, honestly Luka and Jackal would be very happy to see their son bonding with his cousin nicely, especially Luka who is a strong believer of family over everything and prioritizing family. If your Vendetta MC is like Viktor 2.0, he would just find it amusing to see how two of them interact since Kostya (Sequel MC's big brother) is also similar to Viktor in some aspects--social, charming, teasing, but more capable of ruthlessness. There would also probably be a tinge of wistfulness as he reminisces on his own brotherly relationship with Viktor a long time ago.

For second question, basically, yes. It's a bit more complicated in the sense that Viktor actually registered MC with the fake last name he adopted when he ran away and started a new life in Elysium City, and this fake last name is the one that you'll be picking in the beginning. But honestly, most of the time in the game, MC's true last name as a Morozov will be more relevant and brought up in the story--especially since Viktor's dead now and Luka has been raising them for years.

But yeah, you'll get a chance to turn off the patronymic name in the game's menu if it doesn't fit with non-Russian last name you might have given your MC. If you let it on, then the patronymic and Morozov last name would automatically be assigned after you pick your MC's gender (except for NB MC who will have an option to pick feminine surname if they want to and choosing that would automatically make their patronymic "Viktorovna" and Morozov last name to "Morozova". If not, then they would default to "Viktorovich" and "Morozov").

As for your third question, Jackal would be embarrassed and a bit flustered. No one has ever called him that and it makes him feel a bit old 😭But yeah, it also depends on whether he's still dating Luka or whether he's already engaged/married to him.

If still on dating phase, he would complain with red cheeks that it's too soon for MC to be calling him Uncle, much less a more affectionate nickname, Uncle Arty. If on engagement or married phase, he would just cough awkwardly to try his best to cover his embarrassment and ask MC to try not call him that in front of other people than family.

[stationrebuttal]

Lies, again.

Station has said in DMs with Jolee that it was worried about her and never had any intention of "turning them against the trio" just that it felt bad that the three of them were STILL mocking her after literal years.

It didnt know much about her relationship with the three of them, just that they cared for each other and a few people messed up. Everyone associated with this blog wishes no harm or distress on Sunny and her friends:- we want bictims to get closure and for Sunny to leave Station alone.

Mod 3 reads Jolee's DMs with it and she never mentioned being close with Al or that they specifically was close. Station doesn't want to make people paranoid when it has paranoia itself.

This may be a surpise, but it doesn't have that many burner blogs or sock puppets. It has maybe 2-3 URLs saved because they were previous ones and people like to steal them to upset it. Sunny and Taylor have both done this along with other people.

According to Station, there was no "harrassment" involved with Jolee. They both had a pretty normal conversation about what was going on and how they were both in the wrong. Here's my screenshots it sent me a few days ago.

There's no harrassment here, they unfriendes each other after this and the last interaction it had with her was posted on its blog.

It's "two day public breakdown" was over the fact that people kept spam emailing, texting and calling it's new phone number after it had just changed it and threatened to kill it if they saw it in public.

It having a breakdown and attempting wasn't because it got caught lying, which it didn't do, but because what Sunny is doing and supporting is actual harrassment.

We keep saying that the callout was, and always has been a harrassment campaign that could've been solved in DMs if R. Bambeck decided to be an adult that wasn't in a relatonship with a child and decied to write a callout for it.

Station isn't a petty person or someone who "gets off" on drama. It's never said it wasn't in the wrong for what it did or what happened was okay. For the most part it doesn't engage in that behavior anymore and doesn't want to think about Sunny, let alone chew her put about making a joke AMV for two movies it's never seen.

Not everyone is Station, and several people Sunny has called out or harrassed have come to us, we were the first to reach out to Jolee. Station nor Jolee have an introject or selfship with Arty. That's Mod 2.

[siryouarebeingmocked]

Someone recently claimed that the new Davies era of doctor who has no more wokism* than the show used to.

Now, maybe I've just changed in the past few decades, but from what I've heard of the 60th anniversary specials it does seem a tad more concentrated. Cherry-picking SPOILERS, sweeties.

- Donna got married offscreen. To what I can only assume is the last black cab driver in London.

- Her kid is trans. Specifically, non-binary, female presenting, says the wiki.** - In the next episode, we learn the Doctor is gay/bi when he thinks Sir Isaac Newton is hot. I'd smugly say this bit has no real relevance, but...the actual scene does carry the episode theme of accidentally changing reality. It's just the queer bit that seems tacked on. Though it does carry forward themes from 10s era. - Sir Zack himself is played by a half-Indian actor. It's not exactly hard to tell. I'm assuming they're running on Bridgerton logic. https://twitter.com/frozenaesthetic/status/1731332492282429950 - This episode is basically just Donna and the Doc exploring a weird location, and running into monsters, who happen to look like them. It would be a bottle episode, except for the large vfx budget. And yet ol' Rusty somehow managed to awkwardly wedge in an  progressive issue. - In the next episode, the villain explains how he's just exploiting the divisions that already exist in human society, including cancel culture. - no wait he's got a point. Jpg - This is ironic, given that Davies and/or his broadcasting house masters are pretty blatantly on the team that a) coined the word,  b) cancels people the most often, and c) defends the idea of Internet lynch mobs*** (***as long as they're left wing. If not, they're *ist "trolls", even if they're just complaining about the latest sacred cow.) Maybe the Davies was criticizing his own team. * Because the Toymaker was kind of racist back in the day (white dude dressed like a stereotypical Chinese dude), Davies made the new version a bit racist "as a callback to his original, problematic depiction back in 1966." - TVtropes, ref. DW Unleashed. On the other hand, the Toymaker also mocks and dresses as several other cultural archetypes. All the ones I've seen were white European ones. He just does this to everyone, apparently. - Toymaker also weaponizes the Spice Girls hit "Spice Up Your Life". No, I will not explain. Though I will note that a line about the "Yellow man in Timbuktu" was apparently drowned out in the episode. Probably for being a tad spicy. - One new UNIT character is a lady in a wheelchair. When the new Tardis - no, I will not explain - has a wheelchair ramp, she happily points it out. Which makes me wonder why the blue box would be so limited, considering it often deals with alien species. - Also, the same actress played a disabled Companion in the Big Finish audio dramas. I'm not sure why it was considered essential to do so in an entirely audio format, but there have been controversies over this sort of thing before (EG Artie on Glee, various racial voice acting controversies). - At this point, casting Ncuti Gatwa as 15 doesn't even register. Not really a blip on my radar. Black Doc? Whatevs. His sonic screwdriver has Rwandan words on it? So? I go to church with lots of Africans. Heck, I'm a black immigrant to ol' Blighty myself, just from the other side of the pond. Ncuti is, chronologically speaking, more British than I am. - Though given that he's Rwandan-Scottish, there may be some debate on the "British" part. - Wikipedia says the actor is pretty left-wing, but the actor seems good so far, so I'm willing to give him a sha-

Oh, come ON!

Maybe the original person speaking was comparing it to the Chibnall “history has always been a whitewash” era, which had a character who was a paper thin Trump satire. A tad ironic, when the whole point of bringing Davies, Tennant, and Tate back is to play on nostalgia.

*Tangent: that word was apparently voted  the most annoying words in English. Which is kind of hilarious if you know that it was originally created to self-describe certain progressives. And the "you can't even define that word!" meme was almost certainly ripped off from the right wing "what is a woman?" Meme. ** This is apparently because she's part Time Lord, through Donna. It seems a tad interesting to me that a few works featuring non binary characters happen to make them enby due to some sort of supernatural (Omniscient Reader) or sci-fi (SW Squadrons) influence which the vast majority of IRL enbies don't have. ...As far as I know.

[daughter-of-melpomene]

𝐑𝐄-𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆… 𝐌𝐘 𝐆𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐎 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐘

❝ Bruno Keeley had had a crush on Mike Chang since they’d been at football camp together in middle school. Even at the young age of thirteen, Bruno had known enough to be won over by the other boy’s absentminded charm, gorgeous smile, and amazing dance moves, even if he wasn’t quite brave enough to allow himself to admit that he was gay yet. So he’d settled for befriending the dancer, hanging out with him during downtime in between practice scrimmages and laughing together at night, long past the time when every other boy in their cabin was asleep.

And then football camp had ended, Bruno had decided that he didn’t actually like football all that much and would rather play basketball, and the two boys had lost all their reasons to speak to each other. By the time sophomore year rolled around, Bruno would look back and realize that he and Mike hadn’t said a word to each other since the last day of camp.

His crush on the dancing football player, however, remained. Despite the fact that they barely acknowledged each other in the school hallways anymore, beyond a cursory glance and a half-nod, Bruno was never really able to stop thinking about Mike’s lovely dark eyes and stunning smile. He acknowledged that there was an incredibly small chance of them actually getting together, what with him being terrified to come out to anyone and Mike in all likelihood being straight, but he still couldn’t keep himself from stealing glances at the other boy in the classes they shared and daydreaming about dancing with him under the stars.

So when Mr. Schuester forms a glee club and Mike joins with a few other football players, Bruno, who has always been a pretty decent singer, jumps at the chance to audition, seeing a chance to be closer to the boy he’s had feelings for for so long. But to his chagrin, Mike has a clear crush on sweet Goth girl Tina Cohen-Chang, even though she has a clear crush on bespectacled white rapper Artie Abrams.

Bruno wants nothing more than to just get Mike to notice him again. But with all the other drama going on in this glee club, can he break through all the noise and find the courage to speak his truth and actually tell the boy he adores how he feels? ❞

General Taglist: @hiddenqveendom, @foxesandmagic, @artemisocs, @reyofluke-ocs, @endless-oc-creations, @stanshollaand, @ginnystilinski-reblogs, @luucypevensie, @ginger-grimm, @arrthurpendragon, @fakedatings, @impales, @claryxjackson, @dancingsunflowers-ocs, @eddysocs, @lucys-chen, @ocappreciationtag. (Also tagging @manyfandomocs.)

[alexthefly]

trick or treat!!!!!!🎃

I'm so so sorry this took so long! As an apology, here's a snippet from an old WIP of mine that has since morphed into something else entirely. Still, I might use this one day...

While Virgil set upon the proffered food, Alan wandered around the room taking in its innate 'Virgilness'. Every wall was adorned with paintings of all sorts of subjects and in every conceivable style, from classic watercolour landscapes to digital abstracts, and in one corner a rather fine oil portrait of their father. Mom's small, upright piano (which Virgil had always preferred composing on) was positioned near the window, and all around the room packets of pencils, brushes, sketchbooks and other arty paraphernalia were dotted strategically so that wherever his brother happened to be when inspiration struck, he was never more than a few feet from the means to bring it to life.

"So how was space?" Virgil asked through a mouthful of sandwich.

Alan shrugged. “Spacy. How's the music going?"

His brother smirked. "Musically."

“Funny(!)”

“Did you manage to recover that astrogeologist?”

“Yeah, she was fine. Her space rover was toast though.” 

“Yeah, figured it might be. She was lucky she wasn't in it at the time." Virgil took a slurp of coffee, his eyes rolling back in contented, borderline-scandalous bliss. “Ahhh.”

Alan dramatically averted his eyes, instead returning to the piano and peering at the sheet of incomprehensible hand-drawn dots and squiggles that Virgil had been studying when he’d come in.

“Is this the piece from this evening? The twinkly one? It sounded nice.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “The twinkly one?”

“I thought it sounded twinkly. Kinda… tweedle-deedle-dee, teedle-tum. Like that.”

Silence. A blink.

“It was pretty!”

Virgil stifled a smile and went back to his coffee.

Alan scowled. “Last time I ever compliment you, Maestro.”

[ghostly-clown]

How slashers will go in a rivals to lovers (Draft)

this is very draft-y, but idk if I'll have the motivation to finish anytime soon

...

Includes: (new slasher)

Harry warden (love the murderous miner), Michael Myers, Jason voorhees, Vincent sinclair, Bo sinclair, brahms heelshire

.

Harry warden

You are investigating the mine murders

Will spend every waking second thinking about you

Wouldn't go after you but he will fight you if u cross paths

Feelings would develop as you both grow an obsession over eachother

Fights will feel less threatning as you both don't wanna hurt eachother

Tell u by leaving a bloody valentines (haha) card for you

.

Michael myers

Knew him when you where younger or your friends with Lorie, not someone he knows directly but someone he would be aware of

✨️stalking ✨️

But wherever you are he is certain to be near by

It would just become anither obsession to him and alot of mixed feelings would arise

He wants to be close to you but not kill you, which is a new feeling for him

He would just randomly show up scare you and leave

One day he's just gonna be in your house, he won't do anything but it's a little weird

He also won't leave so now ur just stuck with him

.

Jason Voorhees

Ur with a team to help try and make crystal lake an operating place again

He has an immediate attachment to you so he'll kill you last

You put up a good fight and he is surprised by how well you hide

Sort of becomes a game to him

Everytme he catches you he will bring you back to the centre of the camp and give you a minute to hide

After a while you just stop and lay down

Everything hurts and your tired

And even though you would be so easy to just kill right then and there he won't

Something is just stopping him

.

Vincent Sinclair

When you visited the wax museum you were absolutely gushing over the wax status

Going into some pretty advanced art terms

Vincent feels good seeing how a professional is so interested in his art

Have any arty thing? Hes gonna steal it (sketch books, photo albums, sculptures, etc)

He never really hated you, but he can't just go against the formula of killing he and Bo do

Gets you but he just can't do it, as much as he fears going against Bo, he hates the thought of you being dead more

He will eventually just try and help you get out of of the town

Please try and convince him to go with you

.

Bo Sinclair

CHILDHOOD RIVALS

You 2 have always been at eachothers throats since you could walk

Constantly getting into fights until you had to move away

Bo would always tells himself it was a good riddance but deep down he misses you

Then you wonder into town and he thinks the fight is on

He will push you to your limit (could never actuly kill you)

But he'll get close, eventually you stop putting up a fight and he dosnt find it as fun anymore

He leaves and comes back with some food and medication

.

Brahms Heelshire

MORE CHILDHOOD RIVALS

he was the pompous rich kid with no friends

But he took his anger out on alot of students, you were the first who pushed back, you left before he ever got to know you but that interaction stuck with him

You came to the mansion to make some extra money

He accepted you as his nanny (god i hate that word) he thought he could just kill you before his parents got back and just get another

But he got the note saying they won't be back so he's stuck with yoand he dosnt want to look after himself so..

For a month he will make this job hell, constantly hiding your stuff and knocking stuff over

You try and leave he will reveal himself and stop you

After another few months you will grow on him, as you were surprisingly nice and well feelings will just grow from there

.

If anyone wants to use these or try and complete it feel free to use (just @ me)

[boltupbitches]

Sliding in the DMs Part XVII

Life had settled down a bit for Arty and Joey over the course of a few weeks. Occasional comments were still made in passing by people they encountered - some they knew and some complete strangers. It was odd at first but both quickly learned to ignore it and go about their day.

Arty had begged Joey to take her out boating the past week and today they finally would - with some unexpected guests. When Joey mentioned in passing to Nick that he was taking his boat out, Nick invited himself and Athena along - using the excuse that it had been a while since they got to hang out together.

Arty was excited over the prospect of seeing her sister and hanging out with her.

‘As if they weren’t just together yesterday.’ Joey thought sarcastically.

When Nick showed up with his shit-eating smirk directed at him, Joey knew what kind of day it was going to be.

Arty and Nick would definitely talk shit at each other and also at him. If that wasn’t bad enough, he really didn’t want to see his brother groping his sister-in-law so unabashedly with no sense of embarrassment whatsoever. Sometimes Joey felt like the adult in the room when it came to his wife and his brother. Thank God Athena seemed sane and mellow. Another clown on the boat would have likely made him jump overboard. 

“Alright,” Joey said, “everyone got their stuff? I’m not about to drive out and come back if something is left behind.”

“All good,” Arty called from next to her sister. 

Joey turned the boat on and coasted from his private dock. 

Arty sat up front with him and enjoyed the ocean breeze on her face. It was a beautiful day to go out boating, especially after the recent rainstorms that moved through southern Florida. It was nothing new to Arty as she spent her whole life until the age of 22 living in Miami.

Once the boat was close enough to the sandbar, Joey cut the engine and turned towards his wife with a smile. “I love you,” He said as he leaned in to press a kiss to her lips, “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He eyed her bikini top and shorts combo, his eyes lingering on the sky-blue bikini she was wearing.

“You’re not so bad yourself, handsome.” She leaned up slightly to kiss him once more.

Joey turned his head to see Nick in the back of the boat with Athena perched on his lap, his arms easily wrapped around her frame as she played with his curls.

“I hope you’re not going to try anything funny, Nick. I didn’t agree to a live show like last time.” Joey teased with a smirk.

Nick raised one arm up and gave him the bird and a dirty look before he turned back to Athena who had her head resting on his shoulder. “Says the dude who had sex with his wife on a boat in Greece,” at Joey’s shocked look, Nick continued with a smirk, “You dirty dog.”

“How do you know about that?” Arty asked with a slight blush on her face, “Who told you?” 

Athena didn’t make eye contact with Arty who looked over to her, “I have my ways,” Nick said mysteriously.

“Would that source be my sister?” Arty looked pointedly at Athena.

“I was drunk!” Athena protested back, her face embarrassed that her drunk gossip with Nick was leaked, “I didn’t know he’d bring that up!”

“Nick has a big mouth. Just because he doesn’t talk a lot in front of others doesn’t mean he doesn’t talk shit at all - if anything he’s one of the biggest shit-talkers behind closed doors. Isn’t that right, Nicky?”

“Says the man that got in a fight with a bunch of asshole Eagles fans. How did that work out for you, Joey?” Nick retorted.

“Ok - ok!” Athena stood up off Nick’s lap. “We are not doing this. We are here to have a good time and hangout. You,” she pointed at a frowning Nick, “shut up and stop instigating.”

“What about him?” Nick complained, “He started it!”

“And he’s going to shut up too,” Arty interjected, “so how about both of you shut up?”

Joey grunted at her and frowned. 

Nick said nothing else and pouted at Athena, “Come sit back down with me.”

Athena giggled at his pleading expression and quickly sat back down on his lap.

Joey made a coughing/gag sound and Arty turned quickly to check on him, “You ok?”

“Yeah, just choked down some vomit at him making that face,” Joey joked.

Nick went to retort but Arty was one step ahead of him as she pulled Joey over to the cooler to get a drink.

“Dear God,” Athena mumbled at the bickering between her boyfriend and his brother. 

“Hmm?” Nick hummed in response.

“Nothing,” Athena sighed, “Just enjoying the breeze.

Hopefully, the rest of the day would be relaxing with much less bickering.

—--------------

Joey and Arty relaxed on the bow of the boat as Nick and Athena were walking on the shallow part of the sandbar further inward. 

Nick had spotted some friends and coaxed Athena towards them for introductions.

Joey wasn’t complaining as he finally got the privacy he so desperately wanted with his wife. He wasn’t interested in greeting anyone at the sandbar and just wanted to relax with Arty next to him.

“Thanks for taking me out here with you,” Arty said quietly from her spot next to him.

“Anytime,” Joey said happily. “I’m so glad we get to spend this time together.”

Arty propped herself up and smiled at him. “It’s a beautiful day today to be out here. Are you going to get in the water and walk around?”

“Later. I just want to relax for a bit. I’m still exhausted from my training session yesterday with my trainer. Today’s all about relaxation and recovery for me.”

They relaxed for a while like that, not saying anything to each other and enjoying the breeze passing over them. It was heaven.

Further inwards of the sandbar, Nick stood speaking with some former high school classmates, his arm comfortably draped over Athena as he held her close to him. He was immersed in conversation about the upcoming start to the season as Athena looked around at the number of people at the sandbar.

It was only going to get busier as they day dragged on. She glanced back towards Joey and Arty’s boat, wishing she was back on the boat and away from wondering eyes.

Several young women were eyeing them up from nearby. Athena felt exposed under their scrutiny as she leaned more into Nick’s side, hoping to make herself smaller and to get the attention off her, but when she looked around, she noticed that wasn’t working well.

Nick’s friend laughed and turned towards his other friend to say something. Nick took that moment to turn towards Athena and press a kiss to her cheek and then lowly asked her, “Are you ok? You seem tense.”

Athena shook her head and looked up into his worried eyes. “I just am uncomfortable with the amount of people staring. That’s all.”

Nick glanced around and noticed the eyes on them. A few ladies nearby actually grinned his way and waved eagerly at him, but Nick did not return the gesture. He wasn’t interested in entertaining them in any way.

Nick schooled his face to show how unimpressed he was with them before he turned back to Athena and smiled gently. “Don’t worry about them. I’m not here to entertain them. Only you.” He then pressed a kiss to her lips as he ignored the wolf whistles of his friends at his public display of affection.

He wanted to send a message that he was taken and so was Athena. He wasn’t the only one getting admiring looks from the opposite sex.

—--------

Joey and Arty had moved back towards the cockpit of the boat, now shaded by the hardtop above them.

Arty pressed kisses to his cheek as she sat down next to him. 

Joey let her as he returned her kisses and pulled her onto his lap. He didn’t even care if anyone saw them making out on the boat. He genuinely did not give a fuck. All he could think about was his beautiful wife in his arms.

Arty pressed another kiss to his lips and pulled back to grin at him, “Quite the salute you're giving me, captain.” She glanced down between them at his growing bulge, “Too bad we don’t have enough privacy for that.” She pouted at him, “If there weren’t so many people around, we could make this work.”

“I know,” Joey sighed, “Fuck me… Why did we come out here again today?” 

“To enjoy a beautiful day at the sandbar,” Arty responded nonchalantly. “And to spend some time alone.”

“We could have done that at home,” Joey sighed loudly.

“But I love being on boats with you.” Arty pouted. “Maybe if we got out into the water it’ll help with your boner.”

“Great idea. Maybe the cold water will freeze my dick off while we’re at it.” Joey said sarcastically.

“It’s 91 degrees out today, Joseph. And it’s the middle of July. You know that water isn’t freezing.” Arty laughed at his dramatics. “Come on! Just for a bit, please?” She begged with a dramatic pout.

“Hmm…” Joey pretended to think, “Fine… but only for a little bit.. And only if you wear that new lingerie set for me that you bought last week.” He smirked.

Arty raised her eyebrow in confusion at his request, “How did you know I bought myself lingerie?”

“You left it on the bed for the whole day and I recognized the boutique you bought from before. I snuck a peak.” Joey shrugged.

“Hmm…” It was Arty’s turn to pretend contemplating his request. “I guess we can make that happen… only if you come to play in the water with me on the sandbar, though. Not just stand around looking like a grouch.”

“Deal.” Joey said as he gently moved her off his lap to stand up, “The sooner we get in the water, the sooner we can get back home…” He put his sunglasses and cap on, “Then, your ass is mine.” He smirked at her.

“Oh? You just wait. I’ll be having you begging.” Arty promised with a cocky grin.

“Really?” Joey approached her.

“Absolutely. Just you wait. I got something planned for you, baby boy.” Arty stood up and hip-checked him before heading down the ladder and wading into the water towards the sandbar.

“Are you coming?” She called up to Joey as he watched her.

“Yeah, yeah.” He started down the ladder, his mind thinking about all the things he was going to due to her as soon as they got into their house later. He was intrigued about what Arty had planned, but he could wait. 

‘Could Arty?’ Joey thought with amusement as he approached his waiting wife.

[mortemtheraven]

Artemis Fowl x Reader

References: Artemis Fowl Series by Eion Colfer

Tw: Angst

Artemis Fowl is a stoic, highly intelligent, criminal mastermind who's only a teenager. But you, (Y/n) (L/n) managed to break through his icy barrier and found his weak spot which made him vulnerable to you. Artemis Fowl may control or dare I say—manipulate everything around him, but you have that genius wrapped around your little finger.

"Please, Arty? Can we just cuddle for today?" You pouted, wrapping your arms from behind him as he sits on his study table while typing quickly on his computer.

"No, (Y/n). And don't call me Arty." He's relentless.

"Art," he tensed at your special nickname for him. He remembered the day you gave that to him; Art, short for Artemis. Because everything is art and so are you. "Please?"

Artemis composed himself. "No." He felt your arms unwrapping themselves from his shoulders and strangely felt anxious.

"Fine," Artemis flinched at the coldness of your voice. It's so not like you.

He heard his bedroom door closed, leaving the room silent. Artemis sighed and stood up, turning off his computer. Why does he feel guilty? Somehow, he's convinced you've done something supernatural to make him feel this way around you. But he knows it's just you, the whole you that gives him a hard impact.

Artemis left his room and walked downstairs, finding you sitting in their massive living room. You're facing the fireplace, huddled by yourself on their leather couch. Wrapped around you is a blanket where Artemis should be, his arms making you warm instead of an old fabric.

"(Y/n)," Artemis called, and he heard you sniff as your body tensed. Oh shoot, we're you crying? His heart clenched at the thought. "Love, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, go back to whatever you were doing. I'm fine." he heard your voice break at the last word and winced. He really did screw up.

"Not until you tell me what's wrong." Artemis insisted as he sat beside you and pulled you against him.

"Not that you care anyway." You wiped your tears hastily.

"Please, enlighten me." he said and you sighed.

"It's just—these past few months, you barely acknowledge my presence. I did everything to save this relationship, because I could feel us drifting away from each other. You've been very secretive, always busy on things that you don't wanna share with me—it's like all those memories of us together...gone. Like you never even cared, as if I was never in your list of importance. Am I?" You cried, facing Artemis with glistening tears in your eyes. Your confession made Artemis feel horrible. He never actually thought that he'd make you feel this way. His precious (Y/n), not important? He can't even imagine what he would do if you were gone. All hell would break loose.

"No, no. Of course not. You're the most important part of me, (Y/n). You're my life, you know how to put up with me despite knowing my true colors. Please don't feel that way, love." Artemis said and hugged you closer, wrapping his arms tightly as if he couldn't lose you, because he couldn't.

"I apologize if I hurt you, it was unintentional. There's just some things that I couldn't share with you for your own safety, please understand." Artemis couldn't just involve you in his war against the People. They already threatened to take you away from him once.

"I'm sorry for being melodramatic." You mumbled against his chest as he pressed a kiss on the top of your head.

"Don't be, love. I'm the one who should be apologizing here. Our relationship isn't supposed to be something that has to end. I'm not gonna lose you, you're practically irreplaceable. Tell you what, how about I set aside my errands and spend the rest of the day with you?" he suggested. You looked up at him with a bright smile that immediately made his day.

"You'd do that?" Artemis kissed your forehead once more.

"Yes, and tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that..." Artemis whispered, kissing down your cheeks until he reached your pump lips. Oh how he missed the feeling of your sweet lips against his. He just realized how long he's been missing out and he swore to himself that it would never happen again.

[apureniallsource]

Niall Horan is not worried about turning 30. The singer-songwriter, who famously devoted a portion of his youth to One Direction, will be crossing that threshold later this year, and he wrestles with maturity in “Never Grow Up,” one of the best tracks on his upcoming album, The Show: “I hope we still dance like we’re falling in love/ Hope we still drink like we’re back in the pub/ Hope we grow old, but we never grow up.”

“I don’t care anymore,” he says of the impending milestone, chatting with Consequence over Zoom. “We speak about what happens from 16 to 20, and 20 to 24, but more actually happens between 25 and 30 than I thought. Your interests change, and things happen in your life — the kind of things you write about.”

According to Horan, it’s a “lovely day in London town” when we speak a few weeks prior to the release of The Show, out June 9th. He comes across as easygoing, humble, and grounded, but also seems very excited to talk about his music. The album’s two pre-release singles, “Heaven” and “Meltdown,” have provided listeners with their first window into The Show, an album that plays like a natural extension of his previous two full-length efforts.

It’s the hope of most artists that each project is their favorite to date, and the vocalist confirms that his personal anticipation for this release is high. “I feel like I’ve got my best work here,” he notes. “If you don’t back yourself, who’s going to back you?”

The Show‘s 10 tracks were developed with some of Horan’s trusted collaborators. He reveals that part of the project was written in Nashville, Tennessee — “What a town,” he says with a smile, shaking his head. He tries to make a visit to Music City at least once a year, he explains, and “Never Grow Up” was one of the songs that came from his time at Starstruck Studios, located on a block lined with songwriting houses, labels, and publishing companies.

“Never Grow Up” was co-written with Julian Bunetta, John Ryan, and Shane McAnally, the last of whom is one of Nashville’s true producing and songwriting gems. The sonic landscape of the song, and most others on The Show, is where Horan seems to be particularly comfortable, surrounded by acoustic guitar, truthful lyrics, and a reliable drum beat.

“If I’m sat still for even a minute, I’m always thinking of something to write. I write a lot of stories,” he says of his process. Narratives are always turning over in his head, both real and imagined. “I like to have an idea before I go anywhere near a studio or before I start to sit down and write something.”

While The Show slots neatly into Horan’s discography, this album feels different to him for a few reasons. For one, “There’s no heartbreak,” he confirms. That’s quite the contrast to his previous project, literally titled Heartbreak Weather, which dropped on March 13th, 2020 as the world screeched to a halt. Like many other artists, he felt inspired by the stillness that came with a global pause. “Stillness was something that actually was more thought provoking than I thought it would be,” he explains. “Reflection. My outlook, and feelings and emotions that I hadn’t really cracked into — they were a big, big part of what this album’s about.”

There hasn’t been an abundance of downtime for Horan recently, who also recently wrapped his role as a judge on Season 23 of NBC’s The Voice. Next, in support of The Show, Horan has mapped out an enormous 2024 world tour (find ticket details here), and the gears turning in his head while discussing the trek are practically visible. “My favorite thing about my career is being able to have an effect on people’s lives and create things for them to relate to,” he shares. “Hopefully we can just keep that going, and maybe gather some new people along the way.”

He describes himself as tied inherently to his artistry. When asked what goals he might have or what he might be looking forward to just as Niall the person rather than Niall the artist, he’s a bit stumped. “I just want to take it all in, because I feel like I’m so fired up. I haven’t toured and done shows in five years now, so I’m just more grateful than ever.”

For someone who has spent over a decade centered in the spotlight in a variety of ways, Horan seems to have his priorities quite clear when asked how he prefers to be seen by people. “I’ve been told if you’re a nice guy, that’s a good thing,” he jokes. “I love meeting new people and love chatting. To be told I’m a songwriter and a nice guy? I’d take both of them to the grave with me if I could.”

[pthalomars]

WHAT IS WAREHOUSE 13 . i am intrigued tell me as little or as much as u want pretty please

I'm writing an essay on this so I'm gonna just slap the intro paragraph into here:

_______________________________

Warehouse 13, a show that first aired on the SyFy network in 2009, tells a story of a secret branch of the US Government that specializes in collecting and storing dangerous and powerful artifacts. These artifacts are items that are imbued with otherworldly properties that allow them, and their users, to inflict change on the world. There have been Warehouses around since the dawn of human civilization, with each foundation taking hold in a different place on Earth. In the present day, Warehouse 13 resides just outside of the fictional city of Univille, SD. Each Warehouse has had a Caretaker, which is a human who is organically bonded to the structure. The Caretaker and the Warehouse form a mutualistic bond in which the Caretaker experiences a prolonged lifespan and a few supernatural abilities, while the Warehouse is able to expand and accommodate for the influx of artifacts that are brought in. From the beginning to the modern day, agents of the Warehouse have been gatherers. They hunt down and retrieve any artifacts that threaten the fate of the world, bring it back to the Warehouse, and keep it safely stored away in the hopes that it may never see the light of day again. This process is referred to as "snag it, bag it, and tag it". However, there are people out there who believe that artifacts should not be locked away when they have the potential to change the world.

__________________________________

The present timeline focuses on Pete Lattimer and Myka Bering, two secret service agents who were transferred from their jobs in Washington DC to the warehouse. There's other characters like their boss Artie Nielsen, the resident girl genius Claudia Donovan, the human lie detector Steve Jinks, and the aura-reading baddest bitch in the world Leena. There's exploration of found family, focus on platonic relationships, and also pete has the biggest fucking naturals ever.

There's also canon LGBTQ+ characters, and though it's not the best representation, it was still nice for me as a kid to see other characters that I could relate to.

I could go on for days about this show, it's literally my favorite series in the entire world (even more than pjo/hoo, ninjago, etc etc)

It's funny, it's heartfelt, its painful, and it was FUCKING. CANCELLED. so season 5, the last one, isn't the greatest, but s1-s4 will blow your cock and balls clean off.

[ryaartt]

This is probably more of a rant than anything, so feel free to skip until i post something more arty tomorrow.

This is probably nothing abnormal than what every other artist has felt, but even when I'm aware of that it still doesn't take away the sting. I feel every day my dreams of turning to being a full time illustrator dwindle a lot, hell, even to say part time illustrator.

Though i'm pretty new on tumblr, I primarily had been on instagram since 2017 at least. I used to do pretty well there in terms of interaction numbers, and I felt extremely confident in that one day i could make this into a job of come kind. its 2024 now, I'm 3 years out of high school, done my diploma of illustration and have a lifetime of a portfolio, and on instagram i got 3 likes, 2 of them were from myself.

While I've been doing way better on Tumblr now in comparison (in fact being here reminds me a lot of my early days as an artist), it's still hard not to worry about what my future prospects are in general.

I had quit my last retail job late last year due to very poor job security, and I've been looking for new part time work since, and drawing in between that.

At the moment, I've been posting mainly a backlog of years worth of stuff from my instagram and other accounts, but i think soon i need to probably be more smart about how I'm going to tackle the business side of the online world; I really am serious about wanting to make something of myself, and I know it's absolutely an uphill walk when doing anything creative, but i don't think I have any other option but to give it my all. In the next few days there might be a slight change in how I present my art, and in terms of newer stuff i think i need to hone done a more consistent artsyle (when I was looking in my archives i swear it looks like everything is done by different people)

That's basically the end of my rant, this was more to myself than to the general public, when it's come to how i feel about myself as an artist I've always felt like a very private person, but i think it's to the point now where I needed to get it off my chest a bit; probably why it sounds more incoherent...

Anyways... TLDR I need to plan an online buisness strategy if I wanna be serious about being an artist

[that-mad-indian-woman]

Same idiot here for information on what are like the culturally appropriate things to do for pujo in Bengal

(non Bengalis here's your guide to act native to pujo madness)

So, what IS pujo?

Following mahalaya, (if you don't know what that is, here's the infodump i did;)

Devispaksha begins. The goddess is returning home. There's a different side to this story however.

THE MYTHOLOGICAL SIDE AND WHAT THAT GREEN THING YOU SEE AT DURGA'S FEET IN EVERY PANDAL IS.

So, mahishasur was believed to be a monster. He one day decided to go into the depths of a jungle and sit for an intense tapasya. So he did. He prayed to lord brahma for months and months. He was covered in ivy and moss, Insects grew on him but he stayed firm. For months he prayed, without food or water. Brahma, impressed by his tenacity appeared before him. Mahishasur asked for the boon of immortality. Brahma granted him his wish. "You shall not be killed by any man in heaven, hell, or earth." Strengthened by his boon, Mahishasur attacked Indrapuri, The court of God Indra. He captured his throne. The gods turned to brahma for help. Brahma, on realising his mistake, went to consult with Lord Vishnu and Lord Shiva. the gods decided that as mahishasur couldn't be destroyed by any MAN, they needed to create a female source of power to end him. The gods gathered. They collected their powers and from the blinding lights, emerged the goddess of feminine power-Durga. She was bestowed with weapons; she was given strikingly beautiful features, And then, armed with a hundred hands and skilled in hundred different weapons, she went on the fight. Mahishasur, initially enthralled by her beauty, proposed to marry her; but she declared war. The battle went on for days. At the end, Durga's vahan, the lion pounced on the asur, Durga stepped on him and piercing her trishul through his heart, emerged victorious. The evil was dead. The power that laid within the flashing eyes of the goddess had won.

GOT IT. SO WHAT DO I DO DURING PUJAS?

Puja celebrations usually don't start in it's full-fledged glory till atleast the fifth day (panchami). it continues till the tenth day (Dashami).

If you live in kolkata during pujas, GO OUT. The whole city is bedazzled in lights, there are fairs through the city. Nobody sits at home; everybody is out on the roads sparkling and dressed to nines. Wear your best dresses and walk through the streets at night till the sun comes up. The most major part of pujas is pandal hopping. Thousands of pandals with budgets of crores are made at various spots in the city. These are pandals as huge as marketplaces; each with different themes. There are competitions every year between them, based on which pandal had the best durga idol, which had the best theme, which had the best structure, etc.

Pujas are the time when Kaash ful(the white flowers I clicked last year in the fourth picture) are in full bloom, there are lotuses in bloom in ponds; nature is bedecked in her best jewels.

Keeping in spirit with the goddess returning home, bengalis usually return home during pujas. it's a time to visit families, revsit old friends and have complete unabashed fun. It's time to gobble down on junk foods as much as you can. Oh and girls, on Ashtami(or the eighth day), make sure you put on your best sarees for arti and bedazzle the guys on the road;)

Despite the intense commercialization of the pujas that has happened in the last few years, it still remains an extremely core emotion for us bengalis. It's the time of homecoming, of taking a break and reconnecting to our roots every year. it's the time of visiting family, of recreating old memories, of re-living new and old romances. It's the whole world celebrating you coming home. It's the world celebrating the power that lays inside every woman- a mother, a sister, a wife.

@vellibandi @pinkpdf @dhuup