#walnut stained front door

[kingwenish]

Exterior - Traditional Exterior Image of a medium-sized, elegant, two-story concrete and fiberboard house exterior

[satan-ryoasuka]

Exterior - Traditional Exterior

Image of a medium-sized, elegant, two-story concrete and fiberboard house exterior

[mind4everinthegutter]

Exterior Fiberboard Atlanta Idea for a large craftsman-style green, three-story home with board and batten siding, a mixed-material roof, and a brown roof.

[mykneeshurt]

Divinity

Archbishop John Price x F!Reader

Warnings - explicit smut, religious themes, so much blasphemy, breath play, minors DNI, 18+

Archbishop John Price.

You’d had run ins with him before. All perfectly innocent of course. He was in town and he wanted to see you.

It was late, much later than normal for any type of meeting, especially in a Cathedral. Your city had an impressive gothic cathedral located in the centre of the cobbled streets and winding alleyways. The building its self was surrounded by beautiful grounds, a crumbling graveyard and various statues and tributes to those deemed holy enough.

Spires reached for the sky, gargoyles adorned the balconies meant to ward off evil spirits. But they couldn’t keep you out. A large circular stained glass window glistened in the moonlight as stone arches surrounded it.

You felt somewhat nervous. You weren’t too sure why.

Pushing the great wooden door it creaked open, it was a deep walnut colour with black iron details. On entering the Cathedral you took in is glory, high stone ceilings, various candles littering the walls and floors in their cast iron holders. Stained glass windows of Saints lined the walls, worn wooden pews lined up filled the hall. A red carpet led straight to the altar, this was only used when his Holiness was in town. And the red carpet led straight to him.

Straight to the Archbishop John Price.

He was sat in the Cathedra, like a king on his throne. Legs spread as his hips splayed towards the ceiling, his hand resting on the arm of the chair as he surveyed the kingdom before him. His eyes fixed onto your form immediately, watching as you slowly made your way towards him. Your dress swayed in time with your hips, capturing his eyes with the hypnotising motions.

Hands clasped behind your back you smirked as you approached the altar. He was dressed in all black, a singular gold ring on his left ring finger. Symbolising his commitment to God. You could see his chest moving slowly as he breathed, chest clearly tight with anticipation. Much like your own.

The moon illuminated his form in the dark surroundings of the Cathedral, his eyes overshadowed by his brow but with the slight blue hue still shining through. As you stood in front of him he raked his eyes up and down your form, over your curves, your breasts, legs and finally locking onto your eyes.

Biting your lip you slowly sank to your knees in front of him, hands now clasped in front of you signalling a silent prayer. Leaning forward he cupped your jaw, legs still spread as he pulled your bottom lip with his thumb. ‘I hear you’ve been quite busy little one’ he whispered as you rubbed your cheek into his palm. ‘I needed to get your attention’ you purred softly.

‘And you thought you’d do that by committing the sin of lust? By seducing my disciples of God like the succubus you are?’

You loved it when he talked to you like this, describing how you corrupted his priests, how you made them succumb to your spell, making them give in to their most carnal desires. You stared up at him through your lashes, trying to give him your best doe eyes. ‘I’ve seduced you before John. You know I get what I want.’ He chuckled under his breath, this time you raised your hand to his face. Pulling him closer. Your lips hovered over his, breath tickling the sensitive skin.

‘So give me what I want.’

Slowly he sat back, flashing a look to his lap, beckoning you to take a seat. Standing up you straddled his lap, your knees barely fitting between his muscular thighs and the wooden cathedra. Holding your hips he pulled you further into his lap, his firm cock grazed your aching core as you let out a soft whine. ‘Take it little one. Show me what you want’ he whispered into your neck, placing tender kisses between each word.

Nipping at his lip you dropped your hand to his cock, rubbing it through the fabric of his trousers. A hushed grunt exuded from his throat at the contact, subtly pushing his hips up. Desperately trying to get more friction. Giggling to yourself you kissed his neck, your breath gliding along his soft skin. ‘Tell me you want me John’ you whispered into his neck, desperation seeping through your voice.

He wrapped his hand in your hair, pulling you away from his neck. Forcing you to look at him, his clear blue eyes pooled in the rays that shone through the stained glass windows. His beard peppered with dark and white hairs, his bottom lip plump from where you had nipped it. ‘As God as my witness, I want you.’

Rolling your hips you smiled, eyes lighting up like the fiery pits of hell. ‘Then fuck me like you mean it.’

In one fluid movement he had you bent over the cathedra, dress gathered at your waist. Dropping his hand he caressed the back of your calf and onto your thigh. Fingertips gently grazing your soft skin, kissing the back of your other thigh he groaned, the vibrations tickling your now wet cunt.

Letting out a breathy moan into the wooden chair his name danced on your lips. ‘Don’t tease me John. Fuck. Me.’ Your words were harsh and commanding, but you always were when you weren’t getting what you wanted. Nipping the crease of your ass he chuckled against your skin, his beard tickling the sensitive skin. ‘Don’t rush me little one. I’m taking my time with you. I want to worship you.’

A slow whine made its way from your chest, ricochetting off the sandstone walls at his words. Tentatively he moved your panties to the side as he traced your lips with his fingers, whimpering at the sight of your glistening cunt. Kissing his ring he plunged two fingers into you, the cold metal grazed your folds as be began moving. Pumping his fingers as you came undone beneath him. ‘Fuck. I’ve missed that sound’ he whispered, ‘miss the way you hum my name. This cunt. Like God made it just for me.’

You were losing yourself at his words, ready to honour this man before his God.

‘John please’ you begged, voice hoarse with need and pure lust. Pulling his fingers out he gripped you by the waist forcing you to be flush with his cock. It took all of your energy to stand, but you managed to rest your head on his shoulder as he brought his fingers to your mouth. A silent demand to taste yourself. Opening your mouth he slowly ran his fingers along your tongue, your warm, slippery tongue. Moaning at your taste he kissed your neck as he rolled his fingers in your mouth.

Wanting to feel him inside you, you spun around in his grasp pulling him with you as you stepped back to the chair. Sitting you spread your legs gesturing for him to kneel before you. Keeping his eyes on yours he dropped to his knees, a glint present in his eyes. As he went to bury his head in your folds you placed the ball of your foot on his chest, stopping him in his tracks. Leaning forward you grasped the rosary that was hidden beneath his shirt.

Using the rosary like a collar you pulled him towards you. He crawled over you, placing his lips on yours. Coaxing you into a kiss his tongue invaded your mouth, still tasting of you. As the kiss deepened you wrapped your legs around his waist. Rolling your hips you whined into him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Without any warning you grasped his hair and pulled him away from you. He hissed as you held him forcefully in your grasp. ‘Don’t make me ask again’ you ordered. Holding his head there he smirked down at you, dropping his eyes to your lips and back to your eyes.

Playfully rolling his eyes he bit his lip as he pulled at his belt. Still hovering above you he worked his cock in his hands before slowly pushing into you. The stretch would have made the devil himself blush. He was thicker than average and it stung in the most beautiful way. Your eyes rolled back as he bottomed out, mouth agape with sweat beginning to gather on your neck.

‘God John’ you whined whilst gripping his shirt. ‘God ain’t here love, but let’s give the angels something to talk about.’

With that he began thrusting into you, your head pushed against the back of the cathedra while you gripped onto him to stay steady. He buried his head into your neck as he whispered words of affirmation with each thrust. ‘You feel so good around my cock’ he breathed, voice laced with desire and ecstasy. You were so cock drunk you were unable to find words, only various moans and whispers.

Dropping your hand to your clit you applied pressure, pushing yourself further to your climax. Eyes closed you let your mind wander, Archbishop Price fucking your pussy, Father Garrick taking your ass, all while Father Riley had his cock in your mouth while Father McTavish watched.

He gripped your hips as he upped his pace, his pubic bone adding even more pressure to your clit. ‘Don’t stop, please’ you whined, your climax edging ever closer. ‘That’s it little one ’ he cooed, cupping your jaw once more. ‘Tell me when you’re close’ you whispered, a wicked grin spreading across your lips. ‘Already am.’

With that you pulled at the rosary that was dangling between you, gripping it close to his neck, cutting off his blood supply. Humming to yourself you watched as his pupils blew wide. ‘Mmm good boy, now cum for me. I’m not letting go till you fill me’ you whispered. A choked breath escaped him as he became sloppy, desperate.

Removing your hand from your clit you ran your fingers against his lips, allowing him the honour of tasting you. He hummed in appreciation trying to savour your taste as he fought for air. With three more thrusts he came and came hard. Filling you entirely. Just as he did you released the pressure from his throat allowing a rush of air to fire through him. Dropping his head to yours he rested on your forehead, breathing heavy and fast.

‘Stick your tongue out’ he ordered. Doing as you were told you stuck it out and peered up at him with innocence in your eyes. Fake of course. In a smooth motion he pulled out making you feel empty and gathered his cum on his fingertip. Slowly he dragged it across your tongue ‘this is my body, I give it to you.’ Greedily you licked your lips and swallowed.

Just as he went to sink himself in again you stopped him, he looked confused, ‘if I cum now, I won’t get to do this again. Maybe you come to mine later and teach me more about God.’

————

Sorry this has taken so long. Life has gotten in the way. I don’t even know if I like it lmao

Taglist - @deadbranch @villainsoftheweek @glitterypirateduck @luminousbeings-crudematter

[impsandstars]

Ficlet: Cookies

Stolas stared at Blitz’s door for what felt like ages. There had been a few other residents who walked by as he awkwardly stood there and although they gave him an odd look (he had to crouch to not bump his head on the ceiling) they simply shrugged and continued on.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to knock (he always wanted to see Blitz), but he was…apprehensive. He was doing something he had never done before and that small voice in the back of his mind that he had been working on silencing was making him doubt. He knew Blitz would be nothing but supportive and caring but…what if this time was different?

His hands tightened around the soft tulle of the delicately wrapped bag and he looked down.

He had made cookies.

Not just any cookies, but horse shaped sugar cookies.

It was the first time he had ever baked and with Via's help (both with the baking and the decorating) they hadn’t turned out half bad. Well not half bad for a first try…

Stolas had wanted to make them for Blitz because he could. Because he liked the idea of doing something unexpected and getting Blitz to smile at him. A soft smile, one that assured him that he was enough, that he made Blitz just as happy as the imp made him.

He huffed and took a step back.

He couldn’t do this. Not face to face.

With his heart pounding he dropped the cookies onto the floor right in front of the door and knocked gently.

He heard movement from the other side and quickly portaled himself back to his bedroom.

Taking out his phone he opened up the messaging app and found Blitz.

Hello dear! Just wanted to let you know I left you a treat outside your door. They are cookies, in the shape of horses! I found the cutter rummaging through some old boxes and knew I had to make them for you! It was my first time baking so if you don’t want to eat them you don’t have to. I also added some walnuts for texture but they got a bit burnt. We tried a few and it didn’t seem to mess with the flavor! Most of them are lopsided though and the frosting got a bit messy on some of them…You know what they probably aren’t any good. I’m sorry for bringing them over. You can just throw then away or give them to a neighbor. Don’t worry about it at all!

Stolas hit send and sat heavily on the couch in his room, smacking his forehead lightly with how ridiculous he was being. Why would Blitz want cookies from him? Horribly misshaped monstrosities. He will probably hate them for that alone, destroying one of favorite animals with his attempts at decoration.

His placed his phone on his nightstand and made his way to the greenhouse to focus on something else.

—o—

A few hours later Stolas walked back into his room, clothes covered in soil and water stains, feeling a bit better.

He was about to make his way over to take a bath when he heard his text alert.

A chill ran down his spine but he found himself moving to pick it up.

There were 6 messages. All from Blitz.

Taking a breath he opened his phone and went back to the first few texts, time stamped about an hour ago.

Im sure ther fine Stols. getin grosherries tho. Looney got tem

I hav named tem all

looney ate 4, i hav had 7

The last three messages were images. The first one was all the horses placed onto a large piece of paper. Written next to each horse in Blitz's handwriting was a name and a little blurb about them. Stolas zoomed in and read all of them, chuckling at some of the ridiculous names. What in hell's name was a dilf?

The next picture was one of Loona biting into a cookie while flipping off the camera. He smiled wide at that too.

The last text Blitz had sent just a moment ago and seeing it made Stolas's heart go all aflutter. On the paper, beneath two cookies, Blitz had drawn a tail and horns on one and a top hat and tail feathers on the other. He had moved the horses close so it looked like they were kissing and had drawn hearts around them.

His phone pinged and a new message appeared: look ther in love

He checks ached with how wide he was smiling and he held the phone to his chest. Oh Blitzy…for someone who has scoffed at romance you sure know how to make me swoon.

Stolas was about to reply back when another message popped up.

we have eten all the kookees. They wer good

Stolas felt his cheeks warm and he smiled softly.

I’m so glad you both liked them! Maybe next time you can come over and we can make them together. ;)

iz a date

Stolas hooted happily and began to search up all the different things they could bake together, wondering idly if he should invite Via and Loona too.

[bettercallalice]

𐙚ᣟ݂﹒𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 - 𝐬. 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐦𝐚𝐧﹒

୨୧﹒﹒𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭. ۫ · ㅤ ˖ㅤㅤ۫ㅤ ˚ ۪˖𓏲﹒ being hired by saul as 'security' ﹒ 　 ⊹ 　⤷ cw: gn reader

The sun beams had shown down onto the walnut table in front of you where you noticed multiple circles imprinted on the wood from water stains.

You were sitting in the waiting room of Saul Goodman's law firm, days prior you had applied for a job position titled 'security', the responsibilities listed seemed easy to do and the pay seemed overly good for how little qualifications were needed. The duties were to drive Saul to and from, pick up things he needed, don't ask questions, and act tough. You didn't have much- nor any- experience in being a security guard but you figured it couldn't be hard to grasp.

The sound of babies screaming and a much bigger dark-skinned man's breathing was the only sound that filled the room along with the occasional phone call which was answered by Franchesca with a huff. It felt as though you'd been sitting in the worn leather chair for hours feeling the bigger man's eyes glare holes into your head, every time you'd make accidental eye contact you'd send him an uneasy smile.

The sound of Francesca's voice took you out of your trance, feeling relief wash over your body at her words.

"He will see you now, y/n."

With a nod you stood out of your chair and made your way to the door into his office, feeling eyes following your movements.

Walking into the office the noise died down with the close of the door behind you. Looking around you took in the room, the tan walls that were lined with writing, the messy papers that were strewn across Saul's desk, the empty chair.

The empty chair?

A confused look made its way onto your face as you continued looking around yet Saul was nowhere to be found.

"Mr. Goodman?" You let out, walking closer to the desk.

You heard a thud come from below the furniture, followed by a strange wince of pain.

"Are you alone?" A voice rang, it was raspy and full of worry.

You rolled your eyes and let out a huff, crossing your arms in the process, "Why?"

Saul sighed in frustration, "It's important, are you alone?"

"Yes, I'm alone Mr. Goodman." You spoke while taking a seat in the chair placed in front of his desk, waiting for his reveal.

This had to be the strangest interview yet, you weren't surprised with how unprofessional it was tho given the rumors about Saul that you've heard.

Saul let out a sigh of relief and quickly sprung up, dusting off his blazer once he caught his balance. "You can never be too sure of who is out there," He said, and an awkward chuckle followed after.

You allowed a small smile to fall onto your face as you watched him hurriedly scour through his papers. "What can I do for you?" He asked.

"I'm here to apply for the security position" Once the words left your mouth you watched as his face turned to one of amusement.

"You? Security? I wanna hire you to just sit there and look pretty" He replied, looking you up and down. You suddenly felt very vulnerable under his gaze. "Just kidding! Not really, anyway, I'm not sexist" Saul shot his hands up in a jokingly defensive matter, a wide smile present on his face as he awaited your reply.

You only let out a scoff, surprised how he truly had no filter around anyone. You'd think since his face is plastered on every billboard around town he'd have at least some professionalism.

"Yeesh, tough crowd," Saul said under his breath, taking a seat in his leather swivel chair, "What experience do you have in being security?" He asked.

You knew this question was going to be asked, but you weren't sure if you should lie or be honest. "Uh, around five years," You sounded unsure, which you were, you just hoped he didn't catch on to your lie. How would he ever know?

"And you won't ask any questions on what you may see or hear about my clientele?"

"No, Mr. Goodman,"

"Youre hired!" He stood up and extended an arm out to you.

His sentence took you by surprise, "That fast? You barely asked any questions," You stood up to meet his hand in your own with a confused look plastered on your face.

"Well, I've been known to give it up easy," Saul's arm dropped back to his side while he let out a laugh at his own joke.

"Do you take anything seriously, Mr. Goodman?" You asked, amusement lacing your tone as you stared at him with a perplexed smile.

"Do you take anything jokingly, y/n? And please, call me Saul, you're my security now not my client,"

You rolled your eyes, "Alright, Saul, when do I start?"

Saul flicked his wrist to check the watch that surrounded it, "Tomorrow, seven A.M, and wear something less revealing, I don't need to be distracted," Saul looked you up and down again with a grin.

You stared down at your outfit, which wasn't revealing in the slightest, this only caused you to roll your eyes and scoff. You couldn't lie though, his 'compliments' were flattering in their own interesting ways.

"Play nice with Huell, but not too nice," Saul pointed his finger at you.

"Huell?" You questioned.

"My other security personnel?"

The look on your face showed Saul he should go into more detail, "The big, beautiful man sitting right outside that door," His hands clasped together.

You nodded your head, "Ah, alright, well I should be going, I'm excited to work with you Saul," You said enthusiastically as you made your way to the door.

"Remember, seven A.M. sharp, sweet cheeks!" Saul said over the loud cries that now filled the room since you opened the door.

You rolled your eyes once again and turned on your heel, only letting the smile fall on your face once Saul was out of view, you knew you'd enjoy working for him and his silly antics.

୨୧﹒﹒𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 . ۫ · 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ㅤ ˖ㅤㅤ۫ㅤ ˚ ۪˖𓏲﹒ part two possibly?

[hippolotamus]

WIP Wednesday 🎩

Tagged by the delightful and talented @wikiangela @daffi-990 @jamespearce9-1-1 @loserdiaz @hoodie-buck @apothecarose @eddiebabygirldiaz @callmenewbie @gayedmundodiaz @exhuastedpigeon @thewolvesof1998 (I haven't gotten around to reading all your lovely snippets but I have no doubt they're amazing) 😘

I just finished up Secret Fic™️ and don't have much I can share that isn't spoilery. So here's a snippet from come close (let me be home) aka Bridgerton AU (prev snippet here). 87% sure I haven't shared this before, but if you've read it no you haven't.

“We have arrived, Viscount.” Eddie hooks a finger in his shirt collar, tugging at the fabric, and takes a centering breath. The miniscule gap isn’t near enough to erase the suffocating feeling created by the sight of his childhood home, just on the other side of the carriage doors. Rather, more importantly, from his mother lurking inside the looming estate.  The sky is a brilliant blue, with puffy clouds slowly drifting by. A perfect day to take Christopher out with a kite or even a stroll around the grounds. Instead, Eddie is here at his mother’s insistence. She claimed it was necessary and urgent. For whom remains to be seen, but he suspects only for her.  “Sir?” His driver calls from the front.  “Coming,” Eddie replies with a world weary sigh. He straightens his back, opens the door, and steps down to the dirt and cobblestone ground below. As he gets closer to the walnut entryway, with its gilded handles and stained glass, his only desire is to be back with his son.  Sophia, his sister and next youngest (former) Diaz, is already waiting for him as he hands off his hat to be hung in the hall. She wraps him in a loose embrace, which he easily reciprocates, planting a light kiss on his cheek.  “Hello, sister. Do I even need to ask why mother’s forced me here? I can only imagine how terrible it must be if you’ve been brought in for reinforcement.” “Whatever makes you think that?” She scoffs, holding a hand to her heart in mock surprise.  “Oh, maybe only because she loves to trot us out when the other isn’t following her plan to marry us off, or whatever other bidding she needs done.” Eddie fidgets with his shirtsleeves, glaring around the foyer. “I suppose she’s going to double her efforts from her last attempt with me since you found such a suitable match during your coming out season. And produced not one, but, likely, two perfect heirs,” he adds nodding at Sophia’s belly.  “Oh, Edmundo.” His sister shoots him a brief lighthearted scowl before she rubs at her protruding abdomen, beaming with a sense of pride and love he is all too familiar with. The type he feels every time he looks at Christopher.  “Shall we?” He guides them from the main hall to the drawing room, wanting to make sure his sister rests. Her baby won’t be arriving for another five months or so, but he knows she’ll never pause and look out for herself unless someone makes her.

no pressure tagging @disasterbuckdiaz @giddyupbuck @spotsandsocks @underwater-ninja-13 @fortheloveofbuddie @eowon @jesuisici33 @rmd-writes @vanillahigh00 @welcometololaland LOML @lizzie-bennetdarcy @watchyourbuck @monsterrae1 @malewifediaz @shortsighted-owl @stereopticons @elvensorceress @spagheddiediaz @chaosandwolves @wildlife4life @your-catfish-friend @buddierights @911onabc @the-likesofus @spaceprincessem @fionaswhvre @barbiediaz @honestlydarkprincess @pirrusstuff @steadfastsaturnsrings @weewootruck @messyhairdiaz @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @evaneds @maygrantgf @lemonzestywrites @buckbuckgoose @statueinthestone @heartshapedvows and anybody else who wants to share

[act-nat-ural]

Occupied

Chapter One: No Rest For The Wicked

(If you want to be added to the tag list lmk!)

prologue \\\ chapter 2

The REDACTED Clause; If a government employee has housing available and is willing and open, military personnel could temporarily seek refuge there if needed.

——

Well, it appears Eliza wasn’t lying. The cabin was empty. You decide to spend your first day of vacation unpacking and exploring the cabin. Unpacking only took you an hour or so, with you only needing to find a space to store your clothes and pick which bedroom you were going to stay in. You ended up deciding to stay in the master bedroom on the second floor, with a bathroom attached.

The bedroom was, for lack of better words, bare-bones. There was a bed (king-sized, yippee!), a nightstand, a dresser, and a television mounted onto the wall. You couldn’t decipher if this was Adam’s room or not, you wouldn’t be shocked if it was. The bathroom attached didn’t have any products in it, or toilet paper, but it did have a larger-than-average tub.

With nothing important left to do, it was time for exploring. A quick scan of the first floor told you that you weren’t staying in Adam’s bedroom (thank God), and he had preferred a much smaller room downstairs. You could infer this because of the posters mounted into the walls and the large, computer desk on one side of the room. You also located the kitchen, with the dining room attached. The kitchen had a pale blue tiling that matched the cabinets and carpet in the living room. The fridge was nothing fancy but it would make due. The dining room was surprisingly large considering he probably never has company over. The dining table was approximately 8 feet long with 3 chairs on each side, the wood seeming to be Walnut.

There was another bathroom on the first floor, down the hallway from Adam’s bedroom. You could tell this was the one he used because of the 5-in-1 shampoo in the shower. He didn’t have any feminine products in his cabinet (duh), so you mentally added them to your shopping list. He did, however, have a first aid kit under the sink. You shrugged it off, paying it no mind. You were confident you wouldn’t end up needing to use it.

You make your way to the living room and flop backward onto the couch. It was an ugly, plaid pattern, yet shockingly comfortable. You go over your shopping list in your head as you switch the television on. You would need to stock up on pads or tampons, as well as get groceries for dinner. You noticed earlier while going through the rooms that the outlets were a different type than in the States, so you would also need an adapter. As you close your eyes and try to make sense of your mind, the excitement of the day and jet lag catches up to you. Quietly, with the TV on in the background, you drift off to sleep.

——

The last thing you expected was to get awoken by not one, but two pairs of fists slamming on the front door. You jump up, sleep still in your eyes, and stumble to the door. You peer through the peephole and see four men in uniform, one getting held up by another and bleeding everywhere. What. The. Fuck.

“For the love of god, open the bloody door mate!” A gruff, British accent spits out.

Without thinking, you swing open the door. The men urgently push past you into the cabin, except for one.

“Where’s the dining room, love?” He tries to ask gently, but you can tell he has a sense of panic to him. He holds eye contact with you, dark brown eyes looking into yours. His hat dons the British flag, but it’s stained with blood.

Wow. What a hunk.

“It’s uh- there.” You say dumbly, pointing down the hall. All four of them disappear into the dining room, leaving you alone. You freeze for a minute, assessing the situation. Oh shit. That man is probably bleeding all over the table. You rush past the kitchen to confirm your suspicions. Yes, the man with the large wound on his side was in fact on the table, bleeding all over the place. The largest man in the room, and for sure the creepiest considering the strange mask on his face, was holding pressure to the wound end telling the man below him to ‘stop fucking moving.’

“Medkit, Garrick, where’s the goddamn medkit?” The man with the gruff voice throws his hands in the air in exasperation.

“Respectfully, captain, I'm fucking looking!” Brown-eyed hunk spits back, digging through his pack

“I, er, have one.” Both men’s heads whip around to face you. You blink back at them. “Oh right. hold on-“ You rush into the first-floor bathroom, accidentally shoulder-checking the wall on your way there. You swing open the cabinet under think. Aha! The first aid kit. Wow, you didn’t think you would need it, let alone so soon. You hand the first aid kit over to ‘Garrick’ as soon as you reenter the dining room. He gets to work on the man on the table, cutting his shirt away and disinfecting the wound.

You stand awkwardly in the corner of the room. You take this moment to thoroughly inspect their appearances. They all seem to be military men, likely special forces or the like. The man with the mask on has a deep voice and doesn’t seem to be talking much. You think you see blood on his leg but it’s hard to make out with the black on his uniform. His accent seems different from that of the others, but you think he’s still English. The man on the table has a short, buzzed mohawk. You can’t decipher what the hell he’s saying, with the accent and the cursing coming out of his mouth. You are more focused on the blood dripping from the table to the pale blue tiles on the floor. Your eyes water and you can feel the bile rise in your throat.

You turn and run into the kitchen, vomiting into the trash can. You never thought you had a phobia of blood, but you have never seen a wound of that caliber. Jesus Christ, you hope he doesn’t die here. You wipe your mouth and try to steady yourselves.

“Towels.”

Your eyes widen and you spin around, seeing ‘Ghost’, whose name you heard from Mr. Mohawk, standing in the doorway.

“…Pardon?” You blink, shivering under his intense stare.

“Where are your towels.” You point at the cabinet on the right side of the room, eyes never leaving his. He strides over there in two steps and grabs almost all the towels out of the drawer. He leaves without so much as a thank you. Wow… rude.

You compose yourself and follow him. Garrick is still stitching up the mohawked man’s wounds, working as quickly and efficiently as humanly possible.

“Excuse me, love, but where is your husband?” The man with the facial hair asks you. You look around, before pointing to yourself. He raises a brow in response. “Yes, you.”

“You have the wrong person, I’m not married.”

“No? Are you sure?” You furrow your brows.

“Yeah, I think I would know if I was married.”

“Then how do you know Adam Baker?”

[wheretheharekissesthefox]

Tav’s sex parade – Chapter 12: Mate me, mark me, make me yours (Halsin x Tav)

(Trigger warning (18+): graphic description of sex, smut, cunnilingus, biting, the feels)

Notes:

To avoid confusion: In one of my other fanfics, Halsin and Tav had named the owlbear cup Naïlo, which means 'night breeze' in the Elven language.)

Chapter 8 is mentioned.

The snowflakes twirled through the cold air of the grey day, covering the world in its first fine layer of this year's snow like powdered sugar.

Tav was sitting in the living room, composing, while Gale wrote letters to scholars, Astarion rested in reverie, and Shadowheart was at Morena's place to help her heal some clients. Gale's mother appreciated an extra pair of hands at this time of the years when the townspeople ended up with runny noses and coughs. Scratch and Naïlo were sleeping in front of the fireplace, tightly entangled. The owlbear had grown a lot and barely fit through the doorframe anymore, but he still behaved like an over-excited puppy. It was adorable and gave them 'scary dog privilege' when going on a walk in the park with him.

Tav was in the middle of figuring out what rhymes with 'apple' when there was a knock on the front door. The bard wiped her ink-stained fingers on a cloth before getting up and opening the door.

"Oak Father preserve you, my heart. How are you?"

"Halsin!" Tav fell around his neck, beaming. "I missed you. I'm alright, and you? Come in, love."

With a chuckle, the druid entered Gale's tower house and shook off his coat and boots.

"Nature's preparing for her hibernation. The snow will cover her like a warm, protective blanket soon."

"You're always so poetic," Tav smiled. "We truly must write a poetry book together. Maybe this winter? Will you stay longer this time or did you plan to travel during the winter season?"

"I'm not sure yet," Halsin answered as he was ushered into the kitchen to sit down. "It depends on how much it'll snow – and how long I can stand the city."

"I see. You can decide spontaneously," the human bard told him. She put the kettle on the stove and piled cookies from a ceramic yar onto a plate. She put it down in front of the druid. "Here, eat some. Gale baked all of our favourites."

Halsin looked at the plate and pointed at the vanilla shortbread.

"Let me guess; Gale's favourite?"

Tav nodded grinning.

The druid chuckled, studying the assortment again. He took a crescent-shaped cookie and sniffed it.

"Cinnamon, hm... Shadowheart? She strikes me as someone who likes exotic flavours."

"You're right, kudos."

Smiling softly, Halsin grabbed a pale star-shaped pastry and took a bite.

"Lemon? That's your favourite? I wouldn't have thought that. You look more like someone who likes raisins."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tav asked, pursing her lips.

Halsin chuckled and leaned his head back to look at her.

"Your welcoming, open-minded, flamboyant nature reminds me of the people in the south - even though your skin's so pale it would burn down there. When I'm in wildshape, you smell like raisins. Somehow, I can picture you between the vineyards and the olive trees."

"And the citrus trees," Tav added. Then, she sighed. "You're awfully observant. It's almost a bit scary."

When the druid looked at her confused, she sighed again, explaining: "I am from the south and did grow up next to a vineyard."

Halsin's eyes widened in surprise and Tav chuckled. She kissed his temple and muttered: "I do like raisins, but lemons are my favourite. When I was a kid, I ate them like apples."

The druid shook himself at the thought, making his lover snicker. The latter stole a lemon cookie from the plate and shoved it in her mouth. Halsin pointed at the sticky clusters, asking: "And what are those?"

"Walnut-honey cookies. Gale thought you might like them since you love honey."

Halsin blinked at her dumbly.

"Gale baked cookies for me?"

"If course! You're family after all."

"Oh."

Touched, the druid gazed at the plate and welled up a bit. He gently took one of the misshapen cookies and took a bite. He closed his eyes and moaned as the taste of flowery honey and earthy walnut exploded in his mouth.

"Good?" asked Tav, rubbing his shoulder blades.

"Mmh, definitely my favourite," sighed Halsin. "I must thank Gale properly. They are divine."

"He should have become a cook or baker instead of a wizard," Tav agreed, stealing another lemon cookie.

Halsin did the same, happily munching on the sweet treats. The bard walked over to the stove and brew tea. She filled two cups, placed them on the table, and sat down next to the wood elf. They silently enjoyed the beverage and the pastries for a while.

"What do you think was Astarion's favourite cookie?" Halsin suddenly asked. "Maybe something with exotic, expensive spices?"

"Or cherries?" Tav wondered.

"No, peaches," the vampire spawn revealed as he strode into the kitchen. "Hello, druid. Nice to see you again."

"Oak Father preserve you, Astarion. How was your rest?"

"Good, but I'm peckish now. Can I take a nibble?"

"Sure."

Astarion stared at him in surprise.

"Really?"

"Mhm," Halsin answered with a shrug.

Licking his lips, the vampire spawn moved closer, stroke a finger along the druid's thick neck before biting down. Halsin gasped, squeezing his eyes shut. He still wasn't used to the feeling of being bitten – other than Tav and Gale. Shadowheart refused to let Astarion feed from her and he respected her boundaries. The vampire spawn drew back, licked the wound clean and then his mouth. He swayed slightly, drunk on the druid's blood, again.

"Thank you, darling," Astarion slurred and kissed him sloppily before staggering out of the kitchen to lay down in front of the fireplace.

"Your blood has an interesting effect on him. I wonder why," Tav mused.

"Me too. He only gets drunk when feeding on me," Halsin muttered. "He says I taste like a bear."

That made Tav giggle.

"And what a lovely bear you are," she teased and leaned over to connect their lips. "I'll run you a bath."

"Mmh, thank you, my heart."

They kissed again before the bard left the kitchen and the druid finished the plate by himself. Then, he got up to seek out Gale in his study. The wizard was hunched over his letters, conferring with Tara.

"Oak Father preserve you, Gale. How are you?"

"Oh, hello Halsin. It's a pleasure to have you back. How was the journey?"

"Good. We'll talk about the details over dinner."

"Of course. Excuse me, I have to finish these letters first before I can start cooking."

Gale turned his attention back to his work.

"It's good to see you again, Mr. Halsin," Tara said and purred as she accepted the druid's caresses.

"It's nice to be back. Thank you for the cookies, Gale. They're delicious," Halsin said, smiling.

"Oh? I'm glad you like them," the addressed replied with a sigh of relief. "I didn't know what you prefer, but when Tav said you like honey, I remembered this recipe."

"Thank you, from the bottom of my heart," the druid told him. He didn't know how to show his gratitude or how to repay the favour, thus, he did the only thing that was able to express his feelings; he gave Gale a tender kiss. The wizard gasped in surprise, but placed a hand on Halsin's chest immediately. When they parted, they leaned their foreheads together.

"Thank you," whispered the druid. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

"Mh, I can only assume," mumbled Gale, still slightly overwhelmed by the sudden kiss.

"Halsin! The bath's ready!" yelled Tav from the bathroom.

Halsin smiled and kissed Gale again before he left the room.

"What a lovely way to show his gratitude," purred Tara, highly amused.

Gale hummed, dazed, and went back to work.

At the dinner table, Halsin told them about his journey. The former Shadow-Cursed Lands had recovered and the wildlife was returning, slowly but steadily. Soon, the area would be suitable for people again, but Halsin was torn.

"It had been my home before the Shadow Curse claimed the lands. I always dreamed of returning, but now, that I can, I'm unsure about it. It feels so different now. The energy's not the same, nature has changed, and it doesn't feel like my homelands anymore." The druid sighed melancholically. "But I'm sure the lands would serve the refugees well. They're not welcome in Baldur's Gate and are forced to live in misery. Maybe, if I'd guide them to Thaniel's Realm, they'll find new hope and a new home."

After said gloomy words, Halsin changed the topic and handed Gale a set of ceramic soup bowls that he'd bought in Mirabar. The wizard marvelled at the craftsmanship and gushed over the design; dark blue background with yellow stars, moons, and suns.

"You were in Mirabar again?" asked Tav.

Halsin nodded.

"I saw the beautiful ceramic ware last time, but didn't buy anything. Winter Solstice is near and your hospitality's always wonderful, thus, I thought I'll bring you a gift to show my appreciation."

"Thank you, Halsin, but you're not just a guest here, you're family," Gale told him, looking serious.

The druid was taken aback and averted his gaze.

"Am I? Hm... thank you. That's... an honour, truly," he mumbled, blushing slightly.

"Of course you are," Gale replied with a smile. Shadowheart, Astarion, and Tav nodded in agreement and the latter placed her hand on Halsin's.

The druid welled up a second time this day.

The conversation had lit a fire in his belly, something he'd never felt before, and it overwhelmed him. Halsin possessively placed a hand in Tav's neck as he kissed her hungrily. Even though he'd had dinner, he was starving. With a growl, he grabbed the bard's buttocks and hoisted her onto his hips. She immediately wrapped her arms and legs around him.

"What's on your mind, love? You're acting strangely," Tav panted.

Instead of answering, Halsin kissed her again. He didn't want to talk, couldn't put into words what he felt. He dropped his lover onto the bed, hastily removing her clothes before stripping himself. Tav stretched an arm towards him to caress his cheek.

"Halsin, talk to me. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Quite the opposite actually," he answered.

Before she could keep pestering him in concern, the druid bent down and started to eat her out. Tav moaned, bucked her hips up, and sunk a hand into his hair. Halsin focused on drowning in her taste and smell. He didn't want to think anymore. He just wanted to be. The bard mewled and came across his tongue, and Halsin moaned at the familiar taste. He didn't give her time to rest and entered her immediately. Tav whimpered but pulled him into a messy kiss. Halsin squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head away. It was too much, too intimate, too loving. Tav was warm and welcoming, trusting him completely. He smelled her skin, felt her breath on his cheek as she panted, her strong arms around him. Halsin drew back and looked at her. Dazed, she gazed up at him.

"Halsin, love, what's –"

The addressed pulled out, flipped her over, and pushed her head into the mattress.

"Stop talking. Please," he pleaded, desperately trying to gain control over his emotions and the scratching beast inside him.

Tav nodded silently and he grabbed her hips to pull her up onto her knees. Halsin entered her again with a groan and leaned over her. His thrusts were hard and fast, making the bard whimper and sob in ecstasy. The druid kissed her shoulder blade. The bear inside him spurred him on to mark his possession. To mate and mark what was his. Moaning, Halsin licked the bard's sweat off, grazing her rosy, freckled skin with his teeth. The beast roared and the druid growled irritated.

"Do it," Tav told him. "Bite me, Halsin. Mark me and make me yours."

The wood elf growled again, grabbed her broad shoulder to pull her closer, and listened to his natural instinct. He sunk his teeth into the nape of Tav's neck, biting down until he could taste blood. The bard gasped and groaned, but kept perfectly still. A shiver ran down the druid's spine, it felt like he was lit aflame, liquid fire running along the bones. A mating bite. Marking someone as his. His.

Mine, Halsin's brain screamed and he moaned as his climax hit him like a boulder. Colours exploded behind his closed eyelids and his ears were ringing. His legs gave out and he collapsed onto Tav who got squished into the bed under his weight. At the moment, Halsin neither noticed nor cared, his brain was still caught up in the fact that he'd marked his lover. It hadn't been a new feeling, he'd had the urge to bite for as long as he could remember, but he'd never acted on it. Halsin had never marked a lover before. It had been a big no-no, too animalistic, even for his taste. Something he'd been ashamed of and had always controlled – until now. Halsin finally unclenched his teeth and lazily tongued the bleeding wound and rolled off of Tav to let her breathe properly.

"I'm sorry," he croaked out huskily.

"Don't be," she replied, way too calmly for someone who'd just been mated and marked like an animal.

"Why aren't you freaked out by this?"

Tav just shrugged nonchalantly.

Halsin's non-bear brain started panicking.

"I- I bit you. Marked you. I left a mating bite on you!"

"I know," the bard replied, stretching languorously.

The druid stared at her in disbelief and repeated: "I left a mating bite on you."

Tav looked at him with a smile and stroke his cheek.

"I know," she said and kissed him sweetly. "I'm yours."

"You're mine," Halsin whispered, pulling her into another kiss.

The beast in him was sated, satisfied, and the druid felt as content as he hadn't in a long while. Tav was his, and now, the entire world could see it.

[rom-e-o]

I have a modern AU idea for Connie and Ebenezer. And…it’s a coffee shop AU.

Hear me out:

Ebenezer, cranky and tired investor in London. Broni suit, briefcase, antique Piaget watch, the works. The definition of overworked. Even after his redemption, this man is an exhausted philanthropist, and pretty isolated. Lonely, some may say.

Every morning before work, he stops in an area coffee shop to get the exact same order: Americano with two sugars, no cream.

One day, he pops in and notes there is a new barista there. Even more noticeable, her accent is American.

She takes his order, and they move on.

This daily routine continues, until one day:

The bell atop the door rings jauntily as the man steps into the coffee house. Compared to the brutalist, mirrored architecture of the booming financial district, the inside of the cafe is warm and cozy, with kitschy decor and deep, walnut-colored furniture.

As he approaches the resisted, a cup is placed in front of him readily.

“Here, Mr. Scrooge! All ready to go.”

He glances up to see and attractive, red headed woman beaming back at him. “I figured you’d be in at your usual time, so I made it early! Oh, don’t worry, it’s still hot.”

He blinked, unsure what to say. “That’s…incredibly kind of you to remember. Thank you, miss….”

He squints at her name tag, where entertainingly enough, she had written her name in cursive that was so antiquated in its flourish that he felt for a moment he was reading his own handwriting. “Mis Constance, is it?”

She nods and dips into a curtesy. Under the generic coffee shop apron (which was quite stained, perhaps she was clumsy?) she wore a black pencil-skirt that stopped mid-thigh, and a red, corseted silk top. She looked…slightly out of place, he thought. Like she should be working a booth at Dior or Prada, not…well, in the financial district at all.

“Well, thank you,” he says, paying with his card and exiting briskly. She waves him away politely, and despite himself, he looks over his shoulder to get a second look.

To his absolute surprise, he catches her glancing at him as well.

Both flustered, they turn away from each other and continue on.

<><><>

The new morning routine continues, with her preparing his order daily and faithfully before his arrival. They chat more and more with each encounter, their smiles growing bigger and their conversation growing bolder.

Then, one day, she slides the cup across the counter with a wink.

“One day, you’re gonna switch up your order and tease me,” she says with a laugh, and he reciprocates.

“I don’t see that happening. I’m a creature of habit, love.”

“Oh? Well, if it does, let me know.”

The sentence gave him pause. Let her know. Well, obviously he would…when she took his order.

With a wave, he exited the cafe and padded toward work. As a crosswalk known for taking ages to change between lights, he glanced down to take a drink and noticed that, in addition to his name, there appeared to be additional writing on the other side of the paper shield. Slowly, he turned it around to read the distinctions cursive handwriting.

“Thanks for always brightening my day! If you ever feel like sharing more than coffee, let me know.” The sentence was followed by a smiley face.

Below that…was a phone number.

Her phone number.

[sliebman10]

The Perfect Gift

(Happy birthday, Remus!)

“I have something to show you.” Sirius said. “C’mon.” They went upstairs and stopped in front of the closed door to the third bedroom. “Close your eyes.” Remus looked like he was going to protest, thought better of it, and complied. Sirius waved his wand, removing the invisible barrier from the doorway. He took Remus’s hand and led him into the middle of the room. Sirius put his hands on Remus’s hips, steadying him. “Ok, open.”

Remus opened his eyes. Sirius could feel his breath catch as he turned in a small circle, taking in the details of the library. Sirius had gotten rid of the overhead light and installed several lamps that bathed the room in a buttery glow. Remus raised his hand to his chin and let out a soft, “Oooh.”

Sirius stepped out from behind him so he could see his reaction. “What do you think?” Sirius asked him quietly.

Remus blinked several times and turned to him, his molten honey eyes full. “I…I don’t know what to say. I can’t believe you did this.”

“Happy birthday, darling. I love you.”

Remus pulled him close, into a tight hug. Sirius could feel him quivering against him, making a valiant effort to control his emotions. “I love you too.” Remus whispered.

They held onto each other for a long moment as Remus regained his composure. When he next met Sirius’s gaze, his eyes were clear. “Show me.” he said, to Sirius’s delight.

Sirius took his hand and led him to the shelves, with a grand sweep of his arm. “To start our tour, we have our bookshelves… walnut, built in with the finest transfiguration by yours truly. And then we have our books…magical books over here, Muggle books on the other wall.” He then led Remus to the stained glass window. “Here we have a window with stained glass panels that looks out onto the ocean.” Remus paused and gazed out the window for a moment. He took in the depiction of Moony, Padfoot and the full moon in the glass, running his fingers over them gently.. “For very important work related things, we have a desk that you can actually sit at..and a sofa for relaxing. Maybe that’s mostly for me.” Sirius concluded with a wink. He sat down on the sofa and Remus sat down next to him.

“This is…amazing. You’re amazing.” Remus said, still overcome with emotion.“Thank you.” He kissed Sirius, long and slow. Sirius pulled him closer and wrapped his arms around Remus, deepening the kiss.

Read more here.

[stay-dazed]

my nostalgia

i miss the little girl i used to be, growing through the years of the early 2000’s. someone i long to be now but the demands of young adult life and the growth of an electronic world make it near impossible. sure it can be useful, but i yearn for something more simple and real. i miss eating mac n’ cheese, my biggest safe food at the time, from a little plastic bowl almost every day.

and i miss being messy, with fingerpaint and mudpies. i miss the holes and grass stains on my jeans, and the scars on my knees. and the gap my front two front teeth left behind. i miss running into the backyard through the rickety laundry room door. i miss finding ladybugs, rolly-pollies, worms, snails, and frogs. i miss collecting books from the book fair at school, and getting mint n’ chip ice cream with my grandma after class let out. and when my grandpa would lift me in his arms so i could touch the windchimes. and being lulled to sleep by the sound of trains in the distance. i miss playing with my kitten on the floor of the entryway. and teaching my little sister how to tie her shoes.

and i can’t describe how much i miss playing pretend. searching for monsters and mysteries with my best and only friend. it made me feel almost unstoppable, being able to do things no adult could do. up in a walnut tree was our fort, and what a shame the adults just couldn’t see it.

i miss singing without inhibition, usually to journey or queen or the moody blues. it was my favorite way to stim back then, as it is today. i miss the comforting space of my aunt’s old red car, the one with those stupid crank windows that always got stuck. i miss play wrestling with my uncle, watching spongebob on that big box tv, and sitting in my car seat, thinking the moon was following us home.

most of all, i miss having all the time in the world and a carefree mind to focus on growing into myself.

maybe i focus on it a little too much, and maybe i let the bittersweet feeling settle in my chest a bit too long every time a scent or song reminds me. but i’ll be okay. now i'll get to see what beautiful and painful memories wait for me in the future.

[theretirementstory]

Bonjour et bienvenue from a cloudy Bar-sur-Aube where the temperature is only 6c. It has been windy and yesterday did it pour with rain! It was wet inside and outside of my house, I really do wish that on one dry day the roofer will arrive and fix this problem. I can’t see it being done this side of Christmas but I have been wrong before 😉.

So what have I been doing this week? Well it has been week three of radiotherapy so that’s 15 sessions “under my belt” which means there are just two more sessions to go 😁. That gives me the opportunity to plan my Christmas and New Year meals. I think I have decided on the starter, Marinated Goats Cheese with Pears and Walnuts 😋, I think a light dessert too so thought pavlova or meringue with fruit and cream. I was going to have filet mignon (pork) but am contemplating a turkey breast with sage and onion stuffing, bread sauce, roast potatoes, roasted parsnips and sprouts.

The car went to the garage as it had been recalled. I waited the 45 minutes and everything was fine. That was really good news as at the moment I am out in the car every day.

With all the rain and frost we have been having the cyclamen were getting waterlogged and I really don’t want to lose them. I moved them under the laurel bush, thinking it may be a bit drier there for them. The chrysanthemums now have brown heads on the flowers but I have left them where they are.

The other afternoon I came out of the house and running up my driveway was something brown, aaargh I thought a rat then realised it was a hedgehog, what on earth was it doing out in the daylight and should it not have been curled up sleeping for the winter? I managed to get quite close to get a photo (but not close enough to see fleas etc). The next day, about lunchtime, I was going out in the car and saw the young hedgehog again walking along the grass verge, I decided if it was still out and about when I got back I would put it into a box. Well yes it was still pootling around, did I go and get a box, no I didn’t, he looked happy enough “grubbing along the verge” then he decided to cross the road, so standing downwind of him I was the “lollipop lady” I would have jumped in front of a car if it had approached (well maybe). He limboed under a neighbours gate and proceeded down his driveway. Now I had seen this neighbour walking home from the shop so I waited to tell him he had a hedgehog in his garden, he spoke to me as if to a child who had seen it’s first hedgehog 😂😂. My next door neighbour was telling me that they had had a rat in the garden (shiver) and it had come right up to their French doors and stood on its hind legs and looked inside the window (was he winding me up?). Anyway the next he knew there was a BIG hedgehog in the garden seeing off the rat (not into my garden thank goodness) was he “pulling my leg?”

I read “online” (so it must be true) that from 1 January 2024, here in France, food waste is not to be put in your dustbin, it must be composted. Well I will put my fruit and vegetable waste into my own composter but any other waste, bread, skin off meat and fish won’t be going anywhere near my own composter, I hope they have bins in town as, if that’s what they want, I will put it in there. I have been putting the sunflower heads (minus seeds) dead flowers and my vegetable peelings into the composter, not that I expect any grubs, snails etc to be in there to turn them into compost but I can just hope.

Last Sunday I went to the Marche de Noel in Bayel. What a surprise I got when I went into the Salle there were about 30 exhibitors selling all kinds of items, artists with their paintings, authors with their books, of course the association of which the knitting workshop is part, but there were stained glass items, woodworked items and the knitted, crocheted and sewn items. Although not a lot of sales on the knitted, crocheted items a lot of the stained glass items were sold. I found out afterwards that Marlene had been there but we never saw each other. What a shame, it would have been nice to catch up.

On Monday, I got a bit of a shock, according to the newspaper there was a fire at “La Pomme d’Or”hotel/bar, a woman and her daughter were taken to hospital. The fire broke out in the early hours of Sunday morning! On Friday I read that a man in his 50’s had been charged with attempted assassination and destruction of property by dangerous means. Then yesterday I read that the towns Mayor has filed a complaint for alleged theft against his deputy. Blimey it all happens in this town!

Anie is preparing for her trip to Indonesia, I have wrapped her presents and will deliver them when she returns. Monique tested positive for Covid so has not been to see me and she messages that she hopes to visit as soon as she can.

On Friday evening I met Pauline, we went to the travelling exhibition from the Centre Pompidou in Paris which had rolled up in town. I had seen it advertised weeks before and sent the piece from the journal to inform Pauline. What an exhibition! I am not big on art and to wander around a huge place looking at works is overload for me, so this grand camion with the display was perfect, a bite sized chunk not too much to overload the senses. I wanted to take photos of the lights in the street so I drove us back to town, parked by the river and we walked to opposite her grandmas house. I got one photo then we stood talking for goodness knows how long, my feet felt rooted to the spot! I had such a lovely evening that when I got home my mind was just so active and I was on a bit of a “high”.

Music slot puts in an appearance and again it’s two different songs, same title and these two were from the same year, 1979. The title is “Angel Eyes” by ABBA and Roxy Music.

“The Trainee Solicitor” and “The Ex-Graduate” have both felt a little unwell this week, is it a cold, ‘flu or Covid??? “The Trainee Solicitor” waved goodbye to his motor vehicle it has gone to the car graveyard. Good news for “The Ex-Graduate” an interview is on the cards for this week for a “real” job, she is fed up of working this interim job now so fingers crossed.

“The Daddy” had one works Xmas “do” last night, at Sneaton Hall in Whitby. I asked what was on the menu and he had no idea! Blimey me shows where my thoughts lie all the time doesn’t it? Is it a mum thing or just the thoughts of someone who loves food 😂😂.

I had mentioned to Maud that in the New Year we will go to “La Belvedere” again and have already checked out the menu 😂😂.

The cinema in town posted their programme on social media, I noticed that Napoleon was on but not in VO so I emailed and asked if they would be showing it in the original version. They replied that they are showing the film through to 19 December hopefully with a few sessions in VO but they have to get approval for that from the films distributor. Fingers crossed folks!

Last night, I decided to stuff a few dates to put with some chocolates for my ladies at the knitting group on Friday. I also found a recipe for fudge made in the microwave, sounds easy, so I may give it a try this year.

Wow there has been a lot happening this week.

The photos are of the Chateau in Vendeuvre -sur-Barse and taken from the brochure, the painting that I found caught my eye at the exhibition.

Jusqu’à la semaine prochaine

[nancypullen]

Oops

Soooo, I’ve been making a lot of noise about getting our back porch stained.  It’s just bare wood, and my decades in the deep south make me itchy to protect it from weather, bugs, rot, etc.  Maybe it’s different up here but I doubt it.  Anyway, we were in Easton a couple of days ago so I popped into Lowe’s and bought stain.  Our house is gray, the shutters are sort of a deep charcoal, the front porch and all the window trim is white.  In Nancy Land that means that you don’t buy any of the hundred shades of brown stain - tones from light oak to mahogany or a deep walnut.  Nope, I looked at the semi-transparent grays.  I didn’t want to match the gray of the house, I knew that I needed to compliment it with a deeper tone.  I should add, that I wanted to just paint it white to match the front porch.  The mister was adamant that white was not a good idea.  I agreed that white wouldn’t last on the floor boards, but everything else would work.  He stood his ground.  I figured if I was going to give him his way with a color choice that something attached to the back of the house was my best bet.  So I picked a color called Dutch Licorice.  I chose a semi-transparent base for the color because the sample piece of wood at the store in that color and base was just right.  Not too light, not too dark, the woodgrain showed through the wash of color - perfect.   Except it’s not.  You guys....I snapped this photo when I was about halfway finished.

Yes, I know the patio looks absolutely awful.  It’s begging to be power washed.  I’ll get to it.   But look at that stain!  Yikes!  I told my sister that it looks like Darth Vader is sitting right in the middle of my carefully curated, blossom covered, white picket fenced, birdie sanctuary.  Rats.   Because I am cheap, I used what I bought.  Lowe’s won’t let me return a can of regret.  I’ll admit, it’s finished now and looks almost okay in sunlight.  I’m going to have to brighten it up with white pots of colorful flowers. I’ll provide more pics when it gets to that point.  I can count on one hand the times in my life when I’ve regretted a color choice (we’re not talking about my hair) but this one goes on the list.   I’m glad it’s on the back of the house, but I still think the squirrels are judging it.

In other news, my itty-bitty vinca are trying really hard to show off. I’ve been so concerned about them because they haven’t seemed too robust, but they’re trying.  Hopefully they’ll fill in, flower abundantly, and that row of little flowers will become a tumble of red.

Vinca was an easy, reliable work horse in my gardens in Mt. Juliet.  Maybe they don’t like it here.  I’ve dropped sunflower seeds along the porch and they’re doing great.  I can’t remember the name, but they should be about four feet tall which would be perfect for this bed.

This little clematis is thriving, and I’ve provided some twine for it to climb toward the porch.  Grow, little girl, grow!

I rescued this baby from the orphan table for $2.00.  I think she’ll make it.  She probably won’t stay there, that’s just her ICU.  She might end up potted with some friends.  We’ll see.

This fern loves its spot by the front door.

It’s early days, but I have high hopes for this spot.

I’ll add more, but it’s coming along.

Have I made you forget about that travesty of a back porch yet? I tried not to think about it as I sat at my desk today and played with some paper and paint.  This sweet kitty kept me company.

“Animals are such agreeable friends. They ask no questions, they pass no criticisms.”   - George Eliot She told me that she didn’t care one little bit about the color of that porch. Then I remembered that cats see basically in blue and gray and realized that she doesn’t appreciate anything I do around this house.  All that matters to her is the can opener. Still, I appreciated the support.

Tomorrow the mister wants to run off to D.C.  He’s got an urge to go to the Air & Space Museum and I figure I can at least get lunch out of it. Since I’ve spent the last few days spreading mulch, scrubbing and staining that porch, and hauling and cooking groceries - I need a nice lunch in a nice place.   That’s it for me tonight.  I’m off to soak my aching bones and then read myself to sleep. More tomorrow, hopefully something fun from D.C. ,certainly more exciting than mulch and stain. Sending out loads of love, wishing you peace and contentment, and hoping that you stay safe and stay well. XOXO - Nancy

[ansixilus]

What do you think my goblin and zombie characters look like? What do you associate them with?

Your goblin I envision rather like how @anonbeadraws renders Shale: a curious combination of short and lanky, with wide and pointed features, and a mouth that can smile very very widely when desired. The world seems heavily colored by summer sun and warm hearth-fire, so my mind has not decided between skin that may be bright green like young leaves, or faded green like settled dust, or a burnished brown like oiled walnut wood. Perhaps that skin takes colors from the light upon it, and is one or the other when so seen. Long-fingered, this goblin, balanced between lanky and comfortable in body, with a favor for clothes that are practical and easy-wearing. Soft boots are just as likely as sturdy sandals, an apron as likely as a tunic. I don't know whether such warm eyes as his are warm in color, but they give the feeling of it.

The zombie, time has been unkind to. Skin has dried and hardened, waxy yellow and lined with crags, almost wooden and mask-like... but not lifeless, not any more. Withered lips can still cover teeth only slightly yellowed, but a habit of hanging open the mouth shows them off regardless. Clothes might have been fine once, when a living person wore them, but time has been even less kind to them. Dirtied and stained in ways that simple cleaning cannot undo, hardened with dust and worn at every crease, fraying at edges and raggeding at seams... yet the whole effect is subtle so they are mistaken for travelers' clothes at first glance, or second. The hands are horribly torn and worn; a living thing could not use them, let alone with the ease and grace their owner does. Yet the hands are still unobvious things, and one scarce notices them except when one chooses to study them. There's black hair atop the head, which might be called a shock or a shag, depending on who named it. Although ragged and unkempt, it's the first thing the rain reaches and much cleaner than you might expect. The eyes... are shadowed, and glitter in those shadows. It feels, perhaps not forbidden, but certainly rude to try to pierce those shadows. Let the glittering darkness keep its secrets.

The home is perhaps what a home in the Shire might be, if it had no neighbors. A low door to a home mostly built into and under ground, whose roof becomes the top of the hillside behind it. The sunward side holds the front door, and a sprawling place that a fool might mistake for a lawn. A bit of lightly guided nature can be an incredible garden. The inside might seem dark if you come from human homes, but you really don't need much light to do what needs done. There are candles and lanterns and lights as may need if a room needs to be bright.

I haven't much focused on details. It looks like a dream, so details are blurry. It's a mood, it's a summer-colored place, it's a hope that can keep growing come any winter or sorrow.

[purewooddoor]

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