#what is that fecking hair

[the-sixxth-sinner]

Sailor Senshi Gerard because why not

[these-words-like-violence]

I have to confess that as much as I adore Leia and think the casting and writing is very in character, there are several moments where I would like Obi Wan to very sternly tell her that these antics are going to get them both killed.

[gojostan-doodles]

Local farmer/ florist, Amari Vaughn 🌸💐

As a human/ demon hybrid, Amari is gifted with immense physical abilities. When she was a kid, it was very common for her to accidentally break things since she didn't know her own strength. But her affinity for flowers encouraged her to learn how to be delicate with her hands. She realized early on that she wanted to be a florist one day. During her developmental years, she was discreetly monitored by her parents, who looked for other signs of her having supernatural powers. They were relieved to learn that Amari was as normal as everyone else (for the most part). Because of that, they opted out of telling her that she was half demon, thinking that it would only be a source of stress for her if she knew.

Amari grew up in the city without much trouble. She played a lot of sports when she was in school, but it didn't interest her that much. She enjoyed taking care of plants, but found it hard to pursue that kind of work in the city. It's too much of a concrete jungle, y'know? So for a while she gave up on the idea.

Amari worked at a construction company for about 2 years before deciding to go after the life she actually wanted. So she packed her things and took a bus ride to Pelican Town, moving into the farmhouse her grandfather left for her. Settling in took some time, but Amari adjusted to her new lifestyle. She felt right at home surrounded by lots of nature.

But of course, Stardew Valley is a really weird place. So it wasn't long before she encountered the junimos, and later Rasmodius. The "tea" she drank from the wizard not only gave her the ability to communicate with the junimos, but also unlocked her dormant supernatural abilities. She immediately gained a white streak in her hair, and while in a disoriented state, accidentally set herself ablaze and fecking collapsed 💀 Reasonably stunned, the wizard puts out her fire with magic. When she finally wakes up he apologizes, telling her that he'll look into what went wrong and report back to her as soon as he can.

In the meantime, Amari tried to return to her life as a farmer, only to be met with a new set of problems. She struggled with burning her own crops (and many, many other items). During full moons, she would undergo a physical transformation, forcing her to stay home since she stood out like a sore thumb (also because she didn't have any clothes that comfortably fit her in that state). So yeah, her first year really sucked 🥹 It was clear by her transformation that she was half demon, but it was later confirmed by Rasmodius. Amari was really confused and angry when faced with the reality that her parents didn't bother to tell her something so important.

Things eventually got better though. Over time she figured out that being stressed causes her to combust, so she ended up burning things less often. She made a lot of lovely friends in town too, some who turned out to be just as odd as her. It was really nice knowing she wasn't alone. And eventually she married Sebastian, so things were really great for a change!

About a year into their marriage someone new showed up to the farm, a demon named Uruz. Turns out he and a few others where tasked with searching different realms in order to find Lord Wynn. He's Amari's father, and the king of the demon realm. Uruz accidentally found Amari because her aura is the same as Wynn's (and since it was the night of a full moon, it was more intense). When Uruz learned that Amari knew nothing about her powers, he took it upon himself to stay and teach her everything she needed to know. Apprehensive at first, Amari eventually agreed after talking it over with Sebastian. She felt like she couldn't rely on her dad to tell her anything. So she decided to take this as an opportunity to learn everything, about herself and the demon realm. So currently there's a menace living on their farm that they have to keep in check 😭

Since Amari is only half demon, the abilities and traits she inherited from her dad is a mystery. So when she learns about how long demons usually live, she becomes incredibly anxious about her future. But she tries not to think about it.

[kindestofkings]

tis the damn season

robert keating x reader (she/her)

heres the requested bobby fic! reader is bobbys neighbour in dublin and they've had a situationship thats always off again on again, which ryan is v fed up with lol <3

masterlist

enjoy and also happy new year ! forgot how much I love making these so please come with some more requests, I always love getting them xxx

yourusername posted to their story!

year FIVE of working as a waitress during silly season, people need to be KINDER

yourbestfriend not all heros wear capes yourneighbour1 god bless you ↳ its been TOUGH but neighbours christmas party next week !! ↳ yourneighbour1 UGH best part of the season alsooo did I see a certain curly haired bass player make his return to the road...? ↳ feck he's home earlier than usual 😀 ↳ yourneighbour1 time to rekindle the infamous situationship??

yourusername posted to their story!

the return of the loudest next door neighbour known to man, yay 👍👍

yourneighbour1 😏😏 bobbyskeetz get rid of that sarcastic yay ryanmcmahon_15 yay my fav idiots have been reunited ! ↳ idiots? plural? why am I an idiot ryan?? ↳ ryanmcmahon_15 hmmhmm when will yee learn

bobbyskeetz

liked by yourusername and others

bobbyskeetz home.

view all other comments

joshjenkinson_ lookin so mysterious and interesting xx

inhalerfan1 he is one of us

inhalerfan2 missed the intense staring since tour has ended, thanks mr skeetz !

inhalerfan3 christmas came early

yourusername smoking kills

bobbyskeetz excuse me?? I have NEVER and WOULD never yourusername big fat liar yourbestfriend y'all are the worst, every fecking christmas ryanmcmahon_15 what she said !

yourusername

liked by yourneighbour1 and others

yourusername the kids table at the neighbours christmas party is always the place to be <3

also slayed so hard with my kris kindle present he literally cried for hours 💅

view all other comments

bobbyskeetz I cried cause you threw it at me

yourneighbour1 weakling bobbyskeetz ugh thanks tho.... I guess

ryanmcmahon_15 bobby and yn being adults when

yourbestfriend but then what would happen to their beloved situationship? yourusername guys you know this is MY comment section right?

joshjenkson_ hahah the perfect gift for him

yourneighbour2 ugh BEST PARTY EVAAAA

yourusername

liked by ryanmcmahon_15 and others

yourusername and it always leads to you and my hometown

view all other comments

yourbestfriend ah ryanmcmahon_15 shes quoting tis the damn season by THE taylor swift, what does this mean?

ryanmcmahon_1 gasp not the sad tones..

bobbyskeetz confused we're from the same hometown...?

yourusername you uncultured swine its a lyric 😭

bobbyskeetzswife

liked by inhalerfan1 and others

bobbyskeetzswife OH MY GOD I JUST MET BOBBY, IM FREAKING OUT

view all other comments

inhalerfan1 no way what the hell !! where?

bobbyskeetzswife literally in Dingle, Kerry 😭😭 he said hes with the lads but they ran out of drink so he was forced to go to the shops 😭 😭 inhalerfan1 omg hahahah I can't believe they just played the 3Arena

inhalerfan2 no way wonder why they're in dingle, such a random Irish town...

inhalerfan3 that girl that they all follow is in Kerry aswell with grace (eli's girlfriend) bobbyskeetzswife is that yourusername? I wonder who she is, bobby is always interacting with her inhalerfan2 huh wonder has he got a girlfriend

graciebrns

liked by elijahhewson and others

graciebrns wholesome few days before what I've been told, will be the best party I'll ever attend

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elijahhewson promise its not an oversell

joshjenkinson_ agreed yourusername throws a phenomenal party yourusername ah flattered lads thank you

bobbyskeetz the million hikes will be worth it

yourusername you said you loved going on hikes bobbyskeetz course I do love 😔 inhalerfan2 love ?? gathering evidence

inhalerfan1 wholesome band trip bless

yourneighbour1 woohoo almost time to partyyyy

ryanmcmahon_15 how did one row of houses produce so many party animals?

yourusername party animals okay old man bobbyskeetz just cause you can't ever keep up ryan yourneighbour1 its how we were raised 😤

yourusername

liked by bobbyskeetz and others

yourusername hot people have birthdays on nye 💅

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bobbyskeetz so feckin hot

yourusername baby stapppppp that

yourbestfriend was the BEST time ever

elijahhewson class night it was, graciebrns whats the verdict?

graciebrns best. night. ever. yourusername I love you thanks for having me <33 yourusername you kidding me? thank you for coming !!

inhalerfan1 oh hello inhaler spotted ..

inhalerfan2 not bobby on the decks

bobbyskeetz

liked by yourusername and others

bobbyskeetz happy birthday gorgeous, love cleaning up bottles with you on new years day x

view all other comments

yourusername ahhhh the taylor reference 😭

yourusername my favourite nosey neighbour <3

ryanmcmahon_15 I have never been so invested in two idiots getting together properly

yourbestfriend so insufferable its taken like 13 years for them not to be idiots yourusername and what about you two being idiots.. bobbyskeetz whats your favourite book trope again love? yourusername FRIENDS TO LOVERS BABY, take notes ryanmcmahon_15 yourbestfriend

inhalerfan1 sad sad day for the bobby girlies 💔

bobbyskeetzswife noooooooooo

finished xx

[irishmammonagenda]

Catholic MC Gets Sent Into Hell?! Not Clickbait! (part one)

introduction, part one, part two, part three warnings: light swearing, religious theme(s), GN (though implied AFAB mc, they/them pronouns used.) It's implied that MC knows prayers in irish,idk how to word that but😭😭 (i'm new to writing so i dont think i'm too good at characterisation yet)

A strangled scream rips itself from their throat as they lurch downwards into what can only be described as an abyss, the plastic river rock bottle and their phone almost rip themselves from their blazer, MC grips onto them for dear life, the only familiar things in this vacuum of darkness.

The fear almost paralyzes them, and through their years of catholic conditioning, MC does the only thing they can think to do, they pray. Muttering out a prayer to the Patron Saint of Protection, Archangel Michael, MC finds theirself falling onto cold, tiled ground in some bastardisation of wonderland.

They almost sigh in relief, if not for the group of people they catch in their peripherals, on their knees MC looks around, pulling their school skirt further down, it unrolls slightly from where it was rolled at the waist. MC lends wide eyes to the 8 men around the....court room...? They're met with a range of reactions. A man with hair red as blood stands, his arms extended out at his sides in some sort of attempt to be welcoming, to his right is a stoic, though calmly smiling man with green ombre-esque hair. Arguably the most unsettling of the two.

Nevertheless, MC looks to the 6 others in the room, their instincts going haywire, a blond with eyes so green they could be neon, a beautiful man-not that the rest weren't-with hair that reminded MC of the rose coloured shloer they'd get to drink at Christmas.

A man with...indigo? hair...MC was never good with colours, but it didn't matter as he was more focused on his gameboy and glaring at the tan white haired man who looked like the epitome of chaos than them. MC could live with that. They could also live with not having seen the ginger inhale a cake whole, but that was by far the least strange thing that had happened. Then they set their eyes upon the last man of the group, standing to the left hand side of the red-haired brown skinned man, a brunet, or would it be more fitting to say noirette? MC didn't know, either way his hair was black as night, with the slightest hint of silver....or was it grey? Either way, he meets their gaze with his crimson eyes. MC's breath hitches. Falling, only to land in an emo pinterest board looking courtroom with a bunch of men, all of which with strange hair and eyes? They needed to leave.

The man with scarlet hair begins to talk, "Hello MC and welcome to the Devil-"

"Our father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy na-" MC begins to mutter, their eyes shut tight. The tension in the room grows thicker, they can no longer hear the game on the indigo haired man's gameboy, he must've shut it off.

"Lucifer....What's the human doing?" Scarlethead man asks hesitantly, the name spurs MC on, their prayer ups an octave, "By kingdom come, thy will be done-"

"-Praying. It looks like, Diavolo." A sadistic sounding voice responds, offence dripping in this 'Lucifer's' tone.

"-on earth as it is in heaven-"

"-Oh."

MC drowns out the squabble that begins between these...demons. They pray over and over again, the fighting only continues as they get started into the ten Hail Marys.

"Sé do bheatha a Mhuire, atá-"

A new voice joins in. "Ohh?~ What's with the strange words? That doesn't sound like latin."

A sigh can be heard afterwards, "Neither was the praying in English, Asmo. Besides, humans pray in all of their languages now."

"Really?"

"Feck."

Now that gets MC to stop praying and to look up in surprise at the sound of the voice, "Of course demons can be Irish. Of fucking course." They mutter before meeting several pairs of eyes and immediately lowering their head and muttering once more.

"Satan! You visited humans way more t-than us! D-do something!" MC doesn't hear the chain of responses, only picking up, 'worthless otaku like me!' and 'i'm not a human whisperer!'

The name Satan though....

"Saint Michael the Archangel! Defend us in battle!-"

"-Michael?" The strict tone says aloud. Tension was growing thicker.

"-Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil!-"

"-now thats just mean!"

"-Yeah! Human who do ye think yer messin' with?-"

"-May God rebuke him we humbly pray!-"

"My Lord, would you like me to fetch Simeon?"

"That would be a good idea!" The scarlet haired demon, the 'Lord' says, there's laughter? in his voice though.

"-And do thou, O Prince of the Heavenly Host!-"

Silence takes over the room. Until it doesn't.

"Hmm?~ Wasn't that Lucifer's role?"

"W-whaa?! Don't bring that up! He l-looks like he's about to rage quit during a campaign!"

"Diavolo. How long will Barbatos be in fetching Simeon." That annoyed, stern voice asks, although it's less of a question and more of an order. That must be Lucifer.

"-bY the Power of GOd, cast into hell SataN! And all-"

Snickering can be heard.

"L plus Ratio plus ROFL!"

"Shut up Levi." A voice hisses.

"-other eVIL Spirits who pROwl around the wORLD seeking the ruin of souls!"

"Uhhh...*munch* why's the human glowing?"

...

"nevermind."

[katsigian]

𝙒𝙄𝙋 𝙒𝙃𝙀𝙉𝙀𝙑𝙀𝙍⭒─────────────

Wahoo yippee I have something to show finally and it's all modding stuff right now. Thank you for the tags @morganlefaye79 and @pozerjacket❗️

I'm giving Valen, my main OC, his own custom hairstyle. I'm modeling a wolfcut for him in Blender right now and it's coming along good-ish. Which means that there's some fixing to do, like those short chunks that have to be moved and I have to give him a bunch of longer chunks curling around his neck, but overall I'm about 50% done (also nevermind the blonde, that's just so it's easier for me to see individual hair cards. He still very much is a brunette)

I fecking love wolfcuts and I've wanted one for Valen for ages so I finally put my head down and learned how to make it in Blender instead of hoping for one to be released one day 🌚

And secondly, I'm working on giving all of my OCs their own custom eye colours. Valen's are the first to be done and they're perfect; light, warm golden like honey. In certain lights, they look like they emit a glow

I'm also giving him his tapetum lucidum; modding this version in hasn't been as easy as painting and texturing his golden eyes, but they're coming along nicely. I'm testing out eye masks to see if I can give them reflectivity since his daywalker eyes don't emit their own light, they reflect light. That's still very, very much a WIP

And that's that! I'll tag some moots below the cut

As always, there's no pressure to share what you're working on if you'd rather not ♡ and I'm sorry if I tagged you and you're currently not working on anything, feel free to throw rocks at me. Let me know if you'd rather not be tagged! Or if you'd like to be tagged!

@rindemption @noirapocalypto @kharonion @calibvrn @wistereia @strafethesesinners @westealtoys @envergothash @enverflymm @mercymaker @daedricshrine @seeliefae @estevnys @dameayliins @alphanight-vp @hibernationsuit @swanfey @balverine2077 @baldurians @bhaalbabe @nokstella @quickhacked @thedeadthree @florbelles @humberg @leota-nexus @leopardmuffinxo @shellibisshe @peaches-n-screem @minastirithe @vanoefucks @hazellblogs @feykiller @duskfey @elvenbeard @wilxfyre @vincentmatthews @timaeusterrored @biofsauron @cherryrockpops @genocidalfetus @nightcxty @tellings @glitchinginthegarden @ravensgard @adelaidedrubman

[nimium-amatrix-ingenii-sui]

Here is your answer then, humblest of mortals

The reader may believe a goddess came bearing a message for the king or believe it was only the effect of the smoke from the braziers. The acolyte can offer no corroboration. From the slightly bored expression on her face, I gathered that she saw only the king lying on the floor, not Moira bending over him, the pattern on her shawl changing in the dim and uneven light. "Eugenides," said Moira, and I heard for the first time what the Oracle's voice only echoed. "Tell me again why you pester the Great Goddess?" [...] She crouched beside him and pushed his hair to one side, tucking it behind his ear so that she might whisper softly into it. "Here is your answer then, humblest of mortals. You will fall, as your kind always fall, when your god lets you go." She patted him on the shoulder. "Now you know what many men do not." ~Megan Whalen Turner, Return of the Thief

Me, tackling yet another scene where the complicated lighting situation is explicitly described: There better not be any fecking complicated lighting in there

But the temple scene has been living rent-free in my head ever since I first read RotT, and after the tentative lifting of the most recent bout of art block (also known as Too Much Stuff Going On), I thought it was a good idea to tackle it at last. Although I cannot reccommend taking on illustration ideas clearly above one's skill level when one is also lacking the time and motivation to do it justice, sometimes a half-assed exorcism is better than none. Or, in this case, a half-assed invocation. I guess. Please do not ask me about the perspective or proportions. Let's blame it all on the coleus smoke, OK?

[sparklyeyedhimbo]

Share your thoughts on My Personal Weatherman with the class, please

okay kaya this ask has been sitting with me now for 1 1/2 weeks and every time i look at it i go 🫠 what are my thoughts about my personal weatherman?

Did i enjoy watching it? yes! it was a nice watch <- here you can re-read my live blog of it. Did i enjoy these two fecking idiots miscommunication for weeks/months?.. i am still pulling my hairs out thinking about it..but it had it charms. Was they way these two fell for each other very cute and also very them? 100% still can't get over the under cooked carrot chewing sounds Made it me crave more JBL..like the taiwanese shows did? ..........not really, JBL and me we sadly don't vibe much and i am very angry about it at myself ;_____;

Would i watch it again? maybe i give my personal weatherman my old scoring thingy *even tho i prolly have to readjust these stars i gave over there what the fuck*

MY PERSONAL WEATHERMAN "IF THEY HAD TALKED, THEY COULD HAVE FUCKED WAY MORE OFTEN" ★★★★★☆☆☆☆☆

[graysparrowao3]

hahaha, well I’m trash so I’ll bite on the Rugan x Aradin fic! Tell me more! How do these two assholes even meet??

As you wish, my friend! At the bar in The Blushing Mermaid! It goes a little like this...

“Another day in paradise.” Rugan muttered.

The barkeep placed the refilled tankard on the bar and pocketed the waiting coin. The evening crowd was beginning to arrive, but he had his usual spot and the regulars allowed him a respectful distance.

“You’ll be back on the horse in no time.”

“Always am.” Rugan nodded, “Just need a quiet night to nurse a pint. Or few.”

“Good luck with that.” The keep muttered under their breath looking pointedly over Rugan’s shoulder, and the Zhent followed their gaze with curiosity. A young adventurer, holding himself with a loud arrogance of inexperience, was scouring the room for an empty seat. Rugan prayed that he wouldn’t spy the vacant stool beside him, but who was he kidding, the Gods never liked him that much.

“Bloody feckin’ mages and their bloody feckin’ contracts.” Aradin settled noisily onto the barstool. He missed the barkeep share a tired look with the man beside him. He pulled a coin from the pouch at his side and tapped it impatiently on the finished wood.

“You ever come across an offer to find the Nightsong,” Aradin announced as though anyone had asked, “do yourself a favour – don’t.”

The older man exhaled, mourning the peaceful night that was quickly evaporating.

“Could’ve told you that one.” He took a slow drink.

“No need to share with the rest of us.” Aradin muttered, as his own drink was set down and he pulled it toward him. “Still ain’t seen a damn coin from that lyin’ wandshite.”

“Lesson learned, lad.” Rugan mused.

“Feck off,” Aradin muttered, “don’t need humourin’ from the likes of you.”

“Oh, aye?” Rugan raised an amused eyebrow, “what kind’s that, then?”

“Adventurers past their prime.” Aradin nodded, a poor attempt at a backhanded compliment, “Livin’ out your sad old age, drownin’ sorrows in a tavern, wishin’ you were still out there.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Rugan replied with a knowing smile, unfazed by goading, "nowt wrong with a drink after a dishonest day's work." He caught the eye of the keep again as they poured a drink for another customer; ‘course the lad didn’t know he was Zhent. If he had a brain, he'd be dangerous, Rugan wryly thought. He was aware of Aradin’s intrigued eyes, curious by his answer. The young adventurer looked over the man beside him, letting his eyes rest a little too long the weathered features and the fair hair that had been gathered back to reveal the undercut. His face with its lines and creases. And those eyes. Gods, were they blue.

“Not a man of many words, I take it?” Aradin said, not subtle in his sudden interest.

“Knowing when to speak can be as much as skill as knowing what to say.” Rugan gestured with his cup, “Or per’aps I’m just preoccupied.”

“Have it your way.” Aradin huffed and turned back to his drink. He finished it far too quickly, gasping only once for air as he greedily drained the tankard and ordered another, wiping sticky liquid from his mouth with the back of a hand. Rugan noticed the glossy, far-away look in the younger man’s eyes that revealed he never intended to enjoy the ale; drinking was a means to an end. It was a look he recognized.

“Steady on, lad.” Rugan offered, “The night is young.”

[itismissswann]

@mvrtogg || continued from here

Murtogg was oddly not out of breath when he had pulled Elizabeth to safety. He wasn't aware she was upset with him, due to the adrenaline in his nerves and rum he consumed. He was however highly worried about their safety, the huge bulking pirate was probably going to be out looking to murder him and that frightened the drunken former marine to bits. He wasn't as good as hiding his worry now that he was drunk. He worried a lot more since he became a pirate. Having gone though a lot of bad things in his life now. The road to becoming a pirate was rough. He was glad she didn't go through anything he had to endure. Namely the floggings from Captain Barbossa. That and the abuse. That was why he drank.

Stumbling around scared, he turned to Elizabeth and finally answered her. "No? I dunno. Wot you mean, like this? Y'mean drinking? Then yes!" he spat at her, not in angry but rather scared annoyance. She didn't know half of what happened to him since they last saw each-other, but he wouldn't tell her about it. Unless she asked. His eyes darted and tried to focus, that's when she spoke again. He misheard her completely before grinning some. "Sleep with you in yer quarters? Thought you'd never ask Miss Swann." A long pause hung in the air and he vcould feel her glaring holes in him. That's not what she said or meant, you fecking idiot.

Murtogg heard the ruckus still, now becoming a bit closer. He was functional enough to have some of his wits about him but not all of them. He was still tipsy as hell. "Please lead the way, so I don't get gutted and murdered." he uttered, now the worry in his voice clear.

"don't get your hopes too high, Mr Murtogg" Elizabeth replied while offering one of her amused smiles. "You better not take advantage of my hospitality." The remainder of the trip continued in silence. Their footsteps echoing into the dark of the night. She had walked these streets many times before, she knew them just the same as if they were etched in her head with a sharp knife, scored in deep like some strange work of art. These were the streets she decided to call home. The entire walk her senses were on high alert. Every color brighter, every noise louder, every stranger a cause to make her heart beat more fiercely still, but eventually they made it to her humble home in one piece. Elizabeth opened the door, a silver beam of moonlight spilling into the room through the window. It entered in pristine silence, igniting every corner. It was not enough to devour the darkness that had been residing in that room, yet it was enough for her eyes to bathe in it and momentarily expand her perception of her surroundings. "Please do come in." Elizabeth spoke, gesturing he could enter. When he was inside, she pulled the door shut and locked it. Soon after she made way to her nightstand to lit a candle. It flickered in that vulnerable way fire does, the warmth comforting and gently warming her features in the cold of the moonlight. The room contained a descend sized bed, neatly made, two chairs, a couch, washstand a desk without any mirror and a small table. It wasn't anything like her previous home, but it was a decent room for sure. Her eyes went to the couch and back to his. "I take it you can make yourself comfortable on the couch?" Elizabeth asked and sat down on the edge of the bed to remove her boots. After she informed him she was going to get him some change of clothes, she left to the room next door. When Elizabeth returned to the bedroom, she had changed into her nightgown and Mr. Murtogg was already vast asleep on the couch. She took in his features with passive curiosity. For a moment she stood there, the silence as pure as a wintry blanket. He look so much more peaceful now. His hair the brown of aged mahogany, rich and deep. Each strand reflected the strengthening candlelight. It was hard not to look at him, for she was mesmerized by his honest appearance. Carefully she tucked a strand of hair behind his ear after laying the spare clothes on the table. "What has the world done to you." Elizabeth wondered aloud and went to bed herself. In the soft white-gold light of the new day, the hues of her room moved from impressionist pastels to brilliant pop art. Slowly she opened her eyes, astonished to find a man laying beside her, his bare back facing towards her. Her fingers trailed a path over his scars. She had seen scars like this before, but these scars didn't belong to Will, they belonged to another man. "Who did this to you?" Elizabeth questioned in a hushed voice.

[harlequinromancing]

Bergamot and Beans Ch1

AstarionxTav, Coffee/Tea Shop AU - set post endgame. First meetings, falling in love, eventual smut. (And a little angst!) No warnings apply.

WIP - subscribe on Ao3 or follow for more.

-

“You’re late,” Alfira said, removing her apron and levelling a disappointed look at Maeve.

“I know, I know!” Maeve huffed, throwing her satchel behind the counter and pulling an apron on. “I done got stuck talking to Master Sinclair, didn’t I? Y’know how he drones on in the evenings.”

Alfira strode away from the counter and picked up her lute, beginning to tune it.

“Maeve, you know I have no idea what any of these people are like, right?”

“I tell you about them all the time!” Maeve turned to Alfira with an exasperated look, pinning her wild red hair out of her face.

“Yes, but you know how you drone on.”

“Oh, shut it, you make me listen to every bloody detail of your life,’ she said, haphazardly clipping on her name tag.

“That’s because it’s far more interesting than boring old monks in a stuffy library… Oh. Wow…’ Alfira trailed off, looking over Maeve’s shoulder. She cleared her throat and continued. “You have customers, by the way.”

“Feck, sorry, okay, what can I–” Maeve turned to face the men behind the counter, plastering on a smile, and found herself momentarily dumbstruck by a strikingly beautiful elf. “…get you, gentlemen?” She hoped she had managed to brush it off as being flustered.

The more harried human of the pair spoke first, asking for a strong cup of coffee with a frightening amount of sugar. Maeve raised her eyebrows at his request - she pitied whoever had to spend time with this man after he consumed it.

“Sure thing, and what about yourself, sir?” Maeve said, turning back to the elf, stealing a moment to properly look at him. He was gorgeous, all perfect lines, and soft-looking hair. He reminded her of one of the marble statues she had studied years ago - the seductively handsome devils playing at being angels.

“Coffee isn’t really my drink.” He sounded almost bored, leaning against the counter, but there was a soft smile playing on his lips as he looked at Maeve. His red eyes seemed to stare straight into her, and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear self-consciously. “Surely there’s something more… appetising?”

Well here at Bergamot and Beans we're known for our wide selection of teas! 23 flavours and counting,” Maeve said instinctively, gesturing to the shelves behind her.

Hell’s inferno, she thought, what a tosser I sound like.

“Elkazaran Breakfast’s the most popular,” she supplied, when he raised his eyebrows.

“Sure, why not?” he said, and looked almost… disappointed.

“Great, have a seat and I’ll get those ready. A copper each, thanks.”

They dropped the coins on the counter and Maeve turned away to prepare the drinks as Alfira started playing her set, the opening bars to Somebody’s Girl filling the shop.

When they were ready, she set them down in front of the two men, the human man thanking her far more graciously than a simple coffee delivery warranted. That, and his amusing order, earned the two of them what would be her only genuine smile of the night.

‘Enjoy! Let me know if you need anything else,’ she said, unintentionally directing it towards the pretty elf.

“Thank you, Eveaw,” he said with a smile, and far more warmth than she normally received from customers. She lingered for just a second, to savour the feeling, until two women walked in and signalled the start of the evening rush.

Maeve was already halfway back to the counter when she twigged to what he said. She looked down at her chest and read the name tag there: ‘MAEVE’.

It was upside down.

She muttered out a curse and tore it off, throwing it under the counter as she greeted the two women.

Several more people came in after, and by the time she had a break in service to come check on them, the men had already left. The coffee cup had been drained completely, but the lukewarm tea was almost entirely untouched.

-

Several hours later, Maeve pulled her hood closer around her face as she turned down a dark alleyway.

She stepped down a set of stairs to a basement door, and palmed a silver coin to a dwarven man sitting in front of it.

“Good to see you again, Morrigan,” he said in a low voice, opening the door for her. “You’ve got a nice crowd in there. Good luck tonight.”

“Thanks Darmund. Shan’t be needing it, if it’s anything like last week.”

Darmund laughed quietly, clapping her on the back as she passed through the door. The sound grew as she ventured deeper into the building, down another flight of stairs and through the twisting halls, until she emerged into a large, dark room filled with people and a smoky haze.

Lakrissa found her quickly, taking her cloak from her and ushering her to the edge of the ring.

“I like the new hair colour,” she said, twirling a lock of it around her finger, “the brown suits you.” She looked down at her fingertips, noticing the residue it had left there, and wiped it off on Maeve’s shoulder.

“Thanks. It’s only temporary. I figure now I’m making a wee name for myself, it might serve to be less recognisable down here.”

“Smart thinking. Now you're just another copper-a-dozen half-elf."

"Thanks," Maeve said dryly. "How's looking in the ring then?"

"Well, it sounds like you might finally have a challenge on your hands again, there’s a new fighter in your class with some real buzz. Betting’s against you, so you stand to profit if you win.”

Maeve tucked in the ends of her wrist wraps, flexing her hands to test the fit and watching her opponent do the same.

She looks strong, but slow, she thought.

Maeve was right - once she got in the ring and dodged a few pot shots, she was practically dancing around the other woman, teasing her and trying to goad her into a mistake.

One lapse and I’ll have her. It was almost too easy.

But then, through the haze over the other woman’s shoulder, Maeve spotted a flash of white hair across the room. Her eyes followed it, mind wandering to her interaction earlier that day.

There’s no way he’d be down here.

“Get your head in the game, Morrigan!” Lakrissa shouted from behind her. Maeve realised her distraction a moment too late as a fist connected with her jaw, hard .

-

Three evenings passed before Maeve saw the two men again at Bergamot and Beans.

“Not a fan of the Elkazaran Breakfast were you?” Maeve asked when they approached her.

“...What? Oh, uh, no, it was fine,” the elf said, taken aback. He wasn’t the first to be surprised by her sharp memory. “But nevertheless, I think I’m in the mood for something different today.”

“Of course, what tickles your fancy?” Maeve said with far more enthusiasm than required. She cringed internally as she listened to herself.

“You know what? Surprise me.”

His eyes travelled down to the side of her face, clearly catching the purpling bruise on her jaw. Maeve quickly turned her attention to the other man.

“And for yourself? Strong and sweet again?”

He was looking a jot less harried than the last time he was in, but still had an unmistakable air of disarray about him. Typical wizard.

“You remembered!” he said, brightening visibly. “Yes please.”

As they walked away, Maeve caught the beginning of their conversation.

“See Astarion, this is what a little loyalty gets you…”

Astarion. Maeve mouthed the name silently, filing it away for later. A pretty name for a pretty man.

This time, she double checked her name tag before delivering their drinks. Just as she had hoped, Astarion thanked her with extra emphasis on her proper name, so she risked a wink at him and earned a slight smirk back.

Returning to the counter, she kept an eye on the elf, watching for a reaction. He sipped his tea, looked decidedly unfazed, and continued his conversation with his very animated friend. Maeve didn’t see him touch the cup again.

Bugger.

--

Two nights later, right at the end of the evening, the bell above the door tinkled.

Maeve looked up from the book she’d been engrossed in for the last half hour to see Astarion again. But he was alone this time.

“The lemon green was a bust too then?” she asked, fatigue dulling her usual chipper work-voice.

“Not my favourite,” Astarion said with a chuckle, and she was struck again with that curiously intent stare of his.

“Keen to try something else then? A little more floral perhaps?”

“Dealer’s choice,” he said, waving his hands in her direction.

Maeve gestured for him to take a seat as he dropped a copper on the counter, and she turned to survey the shelves of tea.

She heard his footsteps a few seconds later than she anticipated, like he had lingered. Probably looking at my arse, she thought – he wouldn’t be the first.

Her fingers trailed across the jars of tea before settling on the jasmine. White flowers for white hair.

Maeve brewed two pots of it and when she turned to take one over to him, she jumped, surprised to see him sitting at the counter just a few seats down.

He appeared to be engrossed in a sheet of paper in front of him, a pair of gold reading glasses perched on his nose, but Maeve caught him smirk when she startled. 

“Thank you, Maeve,” he said when she set the pot down, a hint of ritual to his speech.

“Yer welcome, Astarion,” she said, holding back a wee grin.

He paused in his movements, looking up at her with narrow eyes, like he might say something. But he breathed out a little ‘huh’ and his face softened again, his eyes still on her.

“You’ll want to pour that quick, it’s a delicate wee brew, the jasmine.”

“Well, don’t let me keep you from yours then,” he said.

“Of course,” Maeve said, and tapped her fingertips on the counter. “Enjoy.”

She returned to her own seat, pouring out a small cup and inhaling the sweet smell of it, watching him over the rim of her cup as she pretended to drink.

When Astarion tasted the brew, he made a face that could only mean “Meh.”

Maeve chuckled into her tea, and he looked over at her.

“Big fan of that one, are ye?” she asked.

“I’m starting to think tea’s not the drink for me either.”

“Don’t be silly, love. Just have to find the right one, don’t we?”

“Three down, twenty more to go,” he said, nodding at the shelves of tea. 

“Hopefully it doesn’t take that many. I’ll have to go looking for some more options then!” she laughed.

“Gods forbid,” Astarion said, looking back at her with a slight smile. Maeve held his gaze for a moment, and when his eyes travelled back to her yellowing bruise, she looked back down at her book. 

They sat in relative silence for several minutes, Astarion taking one sip for every 10 of hers, until Maeve slammed her book closed.

“What a feckin’ idiot!” she muttered, taking another drink of tea to calm her down. She noticed Astarion looking over at her. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It couldn’t have come at a better time, actually. This report was threatening to put me to sleep for the first time in my life.”

Maeve snorted indelicately into her tea, and luckily he spared her a remark.

“What are you reading then? Who’s the fecking idiot ?” he asked, mimicking her accent with surprising skill.

“Elminster Aumar’s Extended History of Faerun - you’d think the bloody man had never left Baldur’s Gate, what with how much he’s made up. Doesn’t know a feckin’ thing about The Whalebones…” Maeve stopped herself before getting too far down that path. Alfira could pretend to listen tomorrow. 

“Gods below, what convinced you to pick up that drivel?”

“Some silly bint working at Sundries. Gods, don’t get me started on her either.”

Astarion huffed a small laugh, looking away from her.

Maeve lifted the lid off her teapot, making a small noise of disappointment when she saw it was empty. Astarion slid his over without a word. 

“You’re sure?” she asked.

“You’ll enjoy it far more than I will.”

Maeve poured herself a cup, took a sip, and made a face.

“And you expected me to like that one?” Astarion teased.

“Been in there too long, it’s turned bitter now,” she said, and glanced up at the clock. “... d’ya want to try something else? On me.”

“How could I turn down such a tempting offer?” he asked, leaning forward to place his chin on his hands.

“This time I am gonna make you choose something though,” she said, leaning across the counter towards him. “Sweet or spicy?” 

“Well, I do like spicy food,” he said conspiratorially.

“I thought you might.”

Maeve prepared a single pot and set it on the counter between them.

“This one,” she said, holding out the open jar of tea to him, “is a divisive one. Technically a tisane, because it contains no tea leaves - but try telling the average punter that. Dark chocolate, chilli, and dates are what you’ll be smelling there.”

Astarion took a deep inhale of the scent, pulling a face that at least tried to appear receptive.

“Well it certainly sounds interesting if nothing else,” he said, and slid his cup over.

“That it is,” she said, making no move to pour. “And it needs a few minutes to really develop those flavours. So while we wait… Tell me, Astarion, what brings you in tonight? I suspect it’s not tea.”

“Well, Maeve . You remember Gale.”

“The wizard you been coming here with?” she asked, leaning against the counter towards him.

“The very same. He was terribly busy and insisted I come down so you wouldn’t forget about us. Something about maintaining our ‘customer loyalty’… Honestly I stopped listening after that. But… I suppose there are worse ways to spend an evening.”

“I suppose there are,” she said, letting a wry smile settle on her face. “And he doesn’t need to worry. Hard to forget someone who drinks coffee strong enough to kill me nan… Or a face like yours.”

Astarion huffed a small laugh, shaking his head. “Does that one usually work for you?”

“More often than not,” she admitted, laughing as well. “Probably not as well as it does for you.”

He fixed her with a stare, his face unreadable. “You are perceptive, aren’t you?”

“My stock-in-trade.”

He held her eye for a long moment.

“Interesting.”

Maeve scoffed. “Ah, I’ve been called worse I suppose.”

Guessing that enough time had likely passed, she poured out a cup for each of them, and took a drink, enjoying the slight tingle of the chilli. He watched her the whole time, without reaching for his own.

“Go on then, it’s perfectly safe now.”

He took a sip, and this time he tilted his head and raised his eyebrows. 

“That one’s not bad, actually.”

“Aha!” Maeve exclaimed, slapping the counter. “We’re making progress! I’ll mark that one down in the maybe column.”

“You’re keeping score,” he said, levelling a playful look at her.

“Can you blame me? You’re a repeat customer even though I’ve not served you a single thing you’ve more than tolerated. How could I pass up an invitation like that? I will find something that you like,” she said, stabbing a finger down on the counter in emphasis.

“So you like a challenge, then?”

“It’s not even necessarily liking them … I just cannot abstain from them, no matter how hard I try.”

“I imagine that gets you into a fair bit of trouble.” 

“You’ve no idea.”

“I may have some.” 

Maeve narrowed her eyes, thoughts briefly flitting back to that flash of white she saw…

“Do you now? Surely not with the company you keep. How much trouble can you really get into when you’re with a wizard all the time?”

“He’d surprise you,” Astarion chuckled. “But I don’t spend all my waking hours with him. I still have time for… trouble .”

“And what kind of trouble is that?” Maeve asked, dropping her voice lower and leaning in towards him.

“Well,” he said, mirroring her actions, “there’s the usual excesses; drinking… debauchery… sex.”

He enunciated the last word clearly, staring into her eyes as he brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, his fingers trailing along the edge of her jaw. 

Maeve held his stare, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of an outward reaction, despite the momentary stutter of her heartbeat. He was clearly a practised hand at making people shiver.

“Does that one usually work for you?”

Astarion dipped his head, his shoulders shaking slightly as he stifled a laugh.

“It does, actually,” he said, looking back up at her. “And frankly, that gets rather boring. I quite like a challenge myself, as it turns out.”

“Well, Astarion, if you’ll indulge me in mine…” she trailed off, gesturing between them in invitation.

“Of course, Maeve. So what trouble are you getting yourself into, hmm?”

“Oh, nothing special. Burglary, larceny, affray.”

Astarion nodded his head seriously. He was hearing sarcasm that wasn’t there, just as she’d hoped. 

Maeve glanced up at the clock again, and stood up straight - she should have closed up about ten minutes ago.

“Alright, I should probably lock up now. Unless you’d like to finish that?” she asked, nodding towards his abandoned cup.

“No no, don’t let me monopolise your time any further,” he said, rising to his feet and letting her lead him to the entrance. “Will you be alright getting home? There are some dangerous people lurking around the Gate, especially at this time of night.” His hand came up, as if to examine the bruise on her face, but then he seemed to think better of it.

“I’ll be quite alright, thank you dear,” she said, lingering at the open door, waiting. “Goodnight, Astarion.”

“Goodnight Maeve.”

He started away, and she locked the door behind him. She lent back on the closed door for a moment, quickly replaying the evening in her mind. 

He’d certainly lived up to the little spark of interest that ignited when she first saw him. 

Maeve strode back over to the counter, throwing her apron at it and necking the leftover tea, before tidying everything away and heading upstairs to her apartment. 

-

Hope you've enjoyed the first chapter! Subscribe on Ao3 or follow for more.

[pbaintthetb]

Invincible s2e8

spoilers ahead

angstrom's anger with being "just some guy" makes perfect sense but also for him to be just some guy to mark

oliver crying :-( he so little, does he even know what's going on?

I really thought mark was going to circumvent levy's expectations and instead of going for him drag his family out of there but now mark is in a whole new dimension

DINOSAURS???

okay so like oliver's ages and develops wayyy quicker than mark so like... are his powers gonna come through?

too many memories

Yellow and black suit? damn damn dang very ominous- and the tone and the lines, feels eviller than s2e1 evil mark although

heh it was the walking dead dimension

go debbie!?!

debbie joins up sometimes too? firstly damn but scondly debbie's character aside- Nolan lets her?

"Not me, I raised the boy who defied his father and saved this planet" YES you tell him Debbie!

feck Debbie's arm

mad max world? and why he shirtless

oh jeez louise mark

"You have no idea what I've been through! How much I am holding. back!" -> again, gret line but JEEZ LOUISE mark

mark omg no pls stop you're beating him to death lease noo (and other than I feel you may regret this even though yo've been heading for a snap, if you do this you also can't get home)

holy fucking shit

I thought you were stronger.

the rationalisation, that's not gonna help you sleep any better at night Mark

oh, ok the evolution of mark's desert rambles are fantastic

oh so they are mark's guardians- interesting there is no Rex then,

was half way through a thought about eve's new look when robot took his helmet off and REX? (or is it just rudy aged and with his hair styled to look like rex, sounds like rex though (and i know they have the same vocal chords but like it soudns like rex but also the tech reads robot)

it is rex??????????

debbie hugging mark :-(

bad guys, good guys... indeed mark, how do you tell, and if breaking an arm is bad what is beating someone to death. Mark and Cecil have different... views

You weren't there.

dang there is a kate prime

guyyyyyyys ladies look perhaps it is sexist but maybe just take it as a win that you won't be posessed today and don't argue about it

just noticed the episode title llol adhfakdjfalskdfj

"I wanna do what you do! I want to be just like you." -> "You will be son." feels uh more like a threat than a promise now, the looming cliff over head oH GOD. Dont like the music though

Amber!!! :-((((((

I love the Debbie and Mark roof scenes

also yeah, thought mark was gonna quit college after the amber scene and he probably does need the break- but also the "why would i do any of that" please mark please don't do a dick grayson, have a life outside of heroics

Allen time

anyway overall really really incredible episode, but of course, end of season sadness cos now long time, but it was great and I shall have thoguhts for a while

[stephanie-strange]

@alucard-and-dracula-askblog

Alucard shoves past people in the crowded streets of New York, chased closely by vampire hunters he'd only heard horror stories about. He had just been at a party hosted by the Belmont family to celebrate some sort of big achievement, he had forgotten what by the time they started doing flaming shots. It wasn't long after he had left the party, his suit stained and tie used to keep his hair out of his face like a headband, when Blade and his vampire hunting friends found him. He hadn't even believed they were real until he was being hunted by them himself. He had hoped that if he was surrounded by innocent humans they'd back off, but he was wrong, and now he had to try and get out of the crowd before someone else was killed for the mistake of being too close to where he was standing. "I should have stayed in Japan!" He whines as he runs, completely unarmed and prefering how nobody knew who he was in Japan, possibly because he wore a wig and actual disguise as apposed to looking like himself all the time but that was a problem sober him could solve tomorrow

“Blade is out again.” Wong shouts from the kitchen.

“VISHANTI-damnit!” Steph huffs and stomps out the door, Cloak following behind her.

She opens her third eye and follows the magical trail of the half vampire.

“Alrighty fecker. I’m not in the mood to dance today. So get the hell out of my city before I curse your ass.” She shouts landing between Blade and the blonde Vampire.

She summons a spectral axe.

“I promise you don’t want to feck with me today Blade.”

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Twenty-Nine (Part 4)

He drives me to the station so that I don’t miss my train since we’re running late, and walks me all the way to the entrance. His eyes flicker over my face as though he needs to memorise every feature. “I’ll see you on Monday morning.” He says.

“Yeah,” I say, “The train’ll have me back for half ten.”

“I can collect you from here if you want me to.”

I shrug, “only if it’s not an inconvenience or anything.”

“No, it definitely wouldn’t be,” He tucks a strand of my hair, still damp from the shower, behind my ear and his chest rises with a sharp breath, “Have a nice time, won’t you?”

“You too.” I turn to walk away but he yanks me back to him again and angles his head to kiss me. Not a light, casual one, but deep, longing, intense, and his arms wind around my back and lock me close to him. “It’s just for the weekend,” I laugh, “I’m coming back in forty eight hours, you’d swear I was off to war.”

“I know,” he brushes his nose against mine, “I’m sorry, I just feel-” He draws back, “It’s fine, I’ll be right here on Monday to pick you up.”

“Alright, weirdo,” I tease, and peck his cheek. “I’ll see you,” I turn into the station and walk away. 

I fear the clouds the whole way from the bakery to the estate. They roll in ominous, black and laden with rain, and somewhere in the distance is a rumble of thunder. 

“Oh God, please, no, not again,” I mutter to myself. These storms don’t seem to let up lately.

A man slopes past with his hands in his pockets, “That for me?” He says. 

I look down at the pink and white cake in my hands. Happy 55th Birthday Marian! Is piped in the centre in purple looping cursive.

I roll my eyes, “Yeah.” 

Then I see our neighbour Jerry. “Looks like rain,” He says to me. 

“It does yeah.”

He peers at the cake, “Mammy’s birthday, is it?”

“‘tis.”

“Fifty-Five, jaysus. Tell her Jerry from next door said she still looks nineteen.”

I snort, “Will do.” and he walks away and I consider telling her that Jerry from next door clearly fancies the arse off her just to kick off a preposterous neighbourhood rumour.

She’s hoovering the sitting room carpet when I get in, and the air is choked with the smell of pine disinfectant. “Jesus,” I wheeze, “doing a bit of a clean are you?”

“Evie,” she looks up and shuts the hoover off, “There you are.”

“Here I am,” I say, and she looks quizzically at the cake. “Your birthday,” I explain, “I went and got you a cake from Meylers Bakery.”

“Oh, feck it, alright,” She says, “c’mere, put it down in the kitchen there sure there’s dust flying around everywhere here. G’wan out there now.”

I go into the kitchen where the whole place is gleaming, and even the laminate countertops seem more reflective than usual. I place it down and carefully peel off the plastic lid, and she shuffles in after me as I’m trying to transfer it onto one of the nice cake stands she displays in the dresser. 

“Ah, you put my age on there!” she protests, “Now Joanne Meyler is going to know how old I am.”

“Does it matter if Joanne Meyler knows that?”

“Fifty five, Jesus Christ,” she takes a sheet of kitchen roll and begins to scoop cake crumbs from the surface onto her hand, “When did I get so bloody old?”

“You’re not old, mammy. The fifties are the new thirties.”

She throws her eyes to heaven, “Yeah, right.”

“Jerry next door said you look nineteen.”

“Jerry next door is bloody soft in the head.”

“Oh alright.”

She looks at the cake again, “I’m depressed.”

I snort with laughter, “You aren’t, for God’s sake, would you shut up. It’s your birthday, c’mere,” I put my arms around her, “Happy birthday mammy.”

“Look at my skin,” she says, tilting her cheek to me, “You see it’s gone like crepe paper.”

“It’s not. You’ve no wrinkles at all,” but she waves me away. “I have a present for you as well,” I say, and root a gift box out of my bag. 

“Ah, what’s this now?” She says as she peers at the branding, “What are you doing shopping in that place? That’s too expensive.”

“Stop it mam, just accept it.”

She takes it from me and pulls out a bottle of perfume. She stares at it for several long seconds, and then says, “Jo Malone?”

“Yeah, Jo Malone.”

“Is that real?”

“Yeah of course.”

“Where did you get the money for that?”

I laugh, “No need to be so suspicious. I work. Or at least I was working. I got a big payment for a mural I did on Temple Bar last month.”

She leans her arm against the counter like she needs to brace herself a bit, “That’s very fancy now altogether.”

“It is, do you remember that time we went shopping together for Christmas and we smelled all of the perfumes at the Jo Malone counter?”

She nods, “I do, yeah.”

“And you liked this one, and I said to myself that one day I’d buy you a bottle.”

Her eyes flick to mine, “And you bought this? You did go asking your fancy boyfriend for a loan of money or something?”

“Feck sake, no! I bought it for you with my own money.”

“It’s too much.”

“It isn’t.”

I swear that her chin trembles a little bit before she decides that she’s not allowed to be emotional, “well thank you,” She says, “That’s lovely now, I’ll wear that out and the other women will be saying I’m gone very posh.”

I reach into the kitchen press and pull out a couple of side plates and then retrieve a cake knife from the drawer. “Are you doing something with the girls later on?”

“Not today,” she says. “During the week we’ll go to a restaurant, I think. There’s a new one after opening in town, some Asian street-something-or-other.”

“Sounds nice,” I cut into the cake and pull out a thin slice for her, because she’s always watching her weight. “And where’s dad?”

“Ach!” She coughs out, “Away.”

“Away?”

“He went out there this morning and he’s not been back since.”

I look at her. “Does he know it’s your birthday?”

“Well he should do.”

“Did he say happy birthday at any point?”

She hesitates, “Well he ought to know, I’d say he’s just off on a small job, or down the pub with the lads.”

I frown, “Mam, did he not get you anything?”

“When you’re married thirty two years these kinds of things don’t make a difference anymore.”

“Well they should. If Jude forgot my birthday I’d be bloody furious. Not even flowers?”

“Ah, what’s the point? Flowers would only wilt,” She pulls a plate of cake towards her and perches at the counter. I hand her a fork, “If you’re going to go mad at every little thing you’d be driven demented. It’s better just to get on with it.”

“Hm,” I take a forkful from the corner of my slice. “I don’t really think that’s the right way of looking at it. You’re worthy of celebration, and you’re worthy of your husband’s time. It’s not too much to expect him to prioritise you.”

She doesn’t know what to say to something like this, so she just says, “yeah,” and then changes the subject. “Your granny was saying you’ve gone very grown up.”

“After seeing me at the Christening?”

“She says you’re the image of me.”

“Well I am the image of you. I feel like there’s nothing at all of dad in me,” I smirk, “Do you ever think she was annoyed about it?”

She lets out a low laugh, “I don’t know about that, would you say? I was glad to hear it because I always thought as much. You’re all made up of Crowley genes, you’ve no Kilbride in you at all.” I can tell she’s pleased about this. She and granny Kilbride have never quite seen eye to eye, with granny always not-so-secretly thinking that she was somehow beneath her son. 

“Do you have any pictures of yourself when you were my age?” I query, “I’ve only ever seen the ones where you’re a bit older, like, the ones where I’m a baby and you’ve got that mad permed hair and shoulder pads.”

“Well, excuse me, ‘twas the style at the time,” She says.

“I’m just curious to see how alike we are, it’s easier to compare when you’re looking at you when you were younger.” 

“Right, hang on there, I’ll get out the photos,” she wipes her hands on her trousers, goes into the other room to search and comes back with a box in her hands with a label that reads 1980 – 1985. She lays it on the counter next to our empty plates and peels the lid open. It’s like uncovering a tomb of secrets, and I’m briefly seized with excitement and anticipation as she pulls out a little pile from one side of it and hands it to me, “have a look through there, see if you can find anything decent.”

“Why haven’t you ever gotten these down for me? I didn’t know you had so many photos from the eighties.”

“Sure what did you think I was doing? Just sitting around at home? I had a life before you were born, missy.” She peers at me, “And before you ask, we had cameras then too, back in the dinosaur ages.”

I start to look through them, and there she is, my mother younger than I’ve ever seen her. I can see it. She’s like me in every way. The gangly frame, the startlingly pale skin, those bright green eyes peering out from under the sheets of straight brown hair that flank her face. She looks deliriously happy in some of the photos, wearing cuffed denim jeans and covered in paint as she drags a thick paintbrush up the wall of someone’s living room. There are a heap of photos from this particular day. It looks like she’s helping a friend to move, and there’s a photo of her grinning with two other girls next to a giant skip piled high with broken furniture.

“That’s Dublin,” I realise. “George’s Street.”

“Back when those big houses only cost thirty thousand pounds, imagine. Now they go for near a million I’d say.”

“Mad, the girl who bought it, is she still there?”

“Gina was her name, and I don’t know, love, I’m not in touch with her anymore.”

This makes me feel a bit sad. Gina looks fun. “How did you know her?”

“All of those girls and I worked for Aer Lingus back in the day, God, the fun we used to have, we used to just go out into the town and get up to all sorts. Those days Dublin was different, but we made the absolute most of it,” she leans back nostalgically, “The stories I have from that time… sure the funniest things used to be happening to us.” 

“I had no idea you were working for Aer Lingus! You never said.”

“Well I didn’t do it for very long,” She swipes a photo off the top of her own pile and passes it to me, and I laugh with delight as I look at it. It’s her and Gina and a third girl dressed in deep green suits and white gloves. Their berets, embroidered with golden harps sit jauntily on their heads, and they smile, proudly, broadly, as they pose on the tarmac in front of an aeroplane. 

“Why did you give it up? God, I’d say air hostessing was so glamorous back then.”

“The early 80s, yes it certainly was. We were so excited to be there, they treated us like royalty and all the other girls were so jealous,” she sighs, “and I gave it up because I got married, and flitting around the world on a plane wasn’t the kind of thing that a wife ought to be doing. I decided to come home to Tullamore and set up a life with your father, and then I suppose the rest is history.”

“And the other women, your friends, where are they now?”

“Well Stella, the blonde girl there, she met a Belgian man and they moved to a place called Liege after a while. She had great French anyway, but he was some handsome fella, we all had our eye on him at one stage. Marc was his name. Gina travelled the world for a long time. I remember around the time that your father and I moved into this house she was still sending me postcards from far flung places, Mongolia, I remember that one. Zambia, Bolivia, and then I suppose we lost touch. When you have children things change and everyone goes their separate ways,” She takes the photo from me and thumbs it affectionately, “But we enjoyed it while it lasted.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Well,” she looks away thoughtfully, “I suppose I do at times, but I was making a sensible choice. I knew I’d marry and have a big family one day, so I thought that I should get going while I had met someone I thought I could have those things with. I was twenty three. That was a normal age to get married back then, although it seems so young these days. Obviously the plan to have a litter of kids didn’t work out as I thought, but we eventually got you, after eleven years of prayers,” She reaches out and tugs on my cheek, “I suppose if I’d my time back I might have done things a bit differently or waited a bit longer, before settling back in Tullamore, but I don’t regret you.”

She regrets my father though. I frown, “You know, that makes me pretty sad.”

“Ah, no, it isn’t sad, it’s just life. We didn’t have it back then in the same way that girls your age do now. This was a different country, there were more rules upon us, more things to be frightened of. Sure you can do whatever you want, can’t you? Look at you, working away and being an artist for real money. I think that’s something to be very proud of. I could never have done something like that because it just wasn’t the done thing, especially for a girl from a working class background. I would have been laughed out of town for trying something a bit different. You could be a nurse or a teacher or a secretary, and that was it. Otherwise you’d be at home with the children.”

“Yeah.”

“But you’ve gone and become a real artist now, and look at you, buying Jo Malone perfumes on money from commissions,” She shakes her head disbelievingly, “Who would have thought that was possible? I was telling the girls about all the cards and things you were doing up there in that art shop you worked for-”

Beginning // Prev // Next

[orcdaddy]

I really liked this shot because the *danger* present is so palpable, heavy in the air, so ready to fire off in Billy at the tiniest stimuli, and I feel it’s made worse by the two-finger push by Steve, too unassertive to establish any sort of leg up in this power dynamic, yet paradoxically just an aggressive enough motion to rile Billy’s pugnacity.

Everyone in Stranger Things is a great actor, you can tell they FEEL the characters, the hair-trigger temper of Billy ready to snap, Steve’s bravado hiding the fear of a young adult way out of his depth on dealing with legitimately dangerous people, the fear of the kids in the room because they’re just fecking kids. I think that’s what makes a good power dynamic in season 2, is that if Will and the gang were older, say, adults, Billy wouldn’t have been as big a threat as he was. But the imbalance between little normal-life suburban kids and one fucked-up young adult in his physical prime made the stakes much higher, especially since Billy literally had nothing to lose, just a psychopathic dude ready to burn himself out any day now.

[annika-thelostlove]

Battery Life \\ a Simon Feck x fem!reader

[Knight and Day (2010 film)]

A\N: I have been stuck on this fic for months 😭 I'm posting it as it is, and so there will be sooooo many mistakes I'm so sorry. This one just came out of the blue, but I hope you still enjoy some Simon Feck love ❤️

Summary: Simon is a genius, and youre nothing special. But he's kind enough to let you sleep in his bed while he plays video games. How dare you fall in love with him!

Warnings: angst (my usual brand I'm sorry) misunderstanding, lack of communication, mutual pinning, low self-esteem, depression, minor dubious consent kiss, happy ending!

Word count: 3374

You're not sure when it begun, youve been spending months on his sofa watching him play games, eating his food from his pantry, laying under his sheets when he let's you take a nap on his futon when you're tired. Hours of time to think to yourself what the hell is really going on, but you couldn't pinpoint the moment when you knew that you loved him.

Six months ago you only knew Simon as the kid-genius that goes to the same school as you. He was always busy, getting offered scholarships, skipping classes that he's already passed, getting featured on tech magazines, for him to ever know that you existed. He's an 18 year old engineering genius, they said. He's been offered a full ride through MIT or Yale or something like that. Or so you've heard.

You also heard a recent rumor that he lives by himself. They've given him his own apartment after turning 18. Its closer to his soon-to-be campus.

Simon is just too busy to notice anyone, too busy to make friends. You think you have that in common.

Except that you skip school not for extra education like Simon, but because you can't get out of bed. Sometimes you feel too empty.

Or when you have no lunch in your bag. Youre too embarrassed. Or if you haven't showered in a while. Just feels too ashamed.

People tend to ignore you, it's fine with you. To you everything in life is temporary. You're now in your final foster home until you're 18. They've been the best family so far, it been four years with them.

They really care about you. They probably even love you. But you still find it hard to really let them know when there's something wrong with you. You feel like you're a burden, they would disagree with that. But they just don't understand.

So for the whole of highschool you don't cross paths with the star pupil of the school Simon Feck. Apart from catching glances at him sometimes from down the hall. He's so tall, its hard to miss. Always talking to a teacher, he doesn't seem to have friends. Just like you.

You have never had one moment with him until graduation year.

Thinking back, you think he might have looked handsome asking you if you were okay standing in the cold. In truth, at that moment you were thinking that he looked nerdy in his glasses and striped shirt, and he was someone who definitely hasn't learned how to shave properly yet, with that tuft of hair on his chin.

"Are you waiting for someone?" his first words to you.

Youve been standing by the school building, pretending to be waiting to be picked up. But the truth was, you just didn't want to go home yet. One of your little sisters was taken back by her biological mother just the day before. It was just too hard to be there without her.

"Uh, I'm.. not really…" feet awkwardly shuffling. "-are you doing anything now?" You quickly change the subject. Simon's expression changes to a look of surprise.

"Now? Im just, gonna go home."

"Do you play video games?"

"Yes…do you play?"

"No, oh." You sadly respond. He swayed side to side, It took him a few more moments of hesitant contemplation to finally say. "Did you..want to- play?"

"Yes" you say without hesitation.

"Oh, like like, at my house?"

"Yes"

"Okay, um, my car is just around the side here." He points at the direction. "Well, you don't have to get in my car. If, if that seem inappropriate I-"

"Let's go. I don't care about any of that"

You follow eachother closely. He's neck is flushed, unsure where his situation is going. Once he gets you in his passenger seat he gets in and pauses.

"So, my name is Simon"

"I know"

He turns red all of a sudden. "Oh" he asks for your name, and you tell him. He repeats it to himself under his breath. Memorizing it.

—-

That had been months ago now. That first evening in his apartment you quietly watched him play his game untill you drifted into a deep sleep that you haven't had in so long. His sofa was cosy, and a few hours later you woke up to vision of Simon still playing his game beside you. But now there was blanket draped over your body that smelled like fabric softener, a little bit of moth ball and a third soft musk that you later on recognize to be Simon's distinct smell. It comforts you.

You've overstayed, and had to get home at 6pm.

Simon and you had never discussed about it. But it went on just like that everyday after school from then on. Watching Simon play, falling asleep, eating his snacks, sometimes crawling into his bed. He never touched you, he just let you exist in his space. Always asked if you liked the food. Never asked you if you needed anything else. He always just gave without needing to ask. Like giving blankets, the soda he now buys because you liked them, or the extra cable wire he bought so your phone can charge. Even though his own devices are incompatible to it. He must have bought it just for you.

You feel something, this burning in your chest. He loves you. Maybe. You don't know. You've never been in love before. You've never had anyone really love you before. So how can you recognize it?

But then every time you step into his space, he starts the hot water for tea, and passes you the comfiest pillow on the couch, you talk about anything and everything, you make him laugh, sometimes he make you laugh too, you listen to his tech rambling, despite not understanding. And you think that maybe this must be what love is like.

Maybe we're only friends. A friend you would dream about being together like this forever.

But that couldn't be right, he never speaks to you at school. Even now. Never looks towards you when youre in the same room, (you know since you look at him every chance you get). So whatever hope you have of Simon liking you back, it vanishes at the logic.

_____

Then it began, falling asleep on his shoulder, youve sat so close to him lately. You curled into his side like you were meant to fit there.

Simon still says nothing, he accepts it like he normaly does, it irks you that he feels nothing. Some days you just want to provoke him.

What are you to him?

A piece of decor in his room?

A friend?

Someone more?

He had become your gravity, you orbit around him as he exists like the sun. But you, you feel like a tiny rock just drifting through his universe, pulled by his gravity, and burning up once you got to close.

How can two people be so different? How can one be so brilliant, bright and important? Full of purpose and direction? While you drift along this life, aimless, and empty.

Where will you be after all of this? When Simon will eventually be in bright shiny places on day, where will you be?

_________

One late evening you wake to laying on top of him on his sofa, he fell asleep, his game is shut down and controller on the floor, he must have not wanted to disturb your sleep even though he's finished his game. He's been tired lately, they've been pushing him with some new battery project he's developing. You wish you could help him get more rest. You wish you had anything to really give him.

While you stared at the unique shape of his nose and lips, his eyes fluttered open. Seeing you so close, you felt his heart speed up, those few seconds you weren't ever sure who did it first, but one second you were lost in his green eyes, the next you were kissing him.

_______

Suddenly pulling away, you're panicked after you realize he's staying completely still beneath you. His eyes staring blankly at his ceiling. Shame floods through your body.

"I'm so sorry" you both say at once. But it's him that continues. "That shouldn't have happened, it was a mistake" mistake? He thought it was a mistake. You quickly try to patch up your rejection, with whatever came out of your mouth next.

"Yes, I- we shouldn't have done that, I don't know what came over me. Hah, I- it was a mistake, sorry Simon"

"No, no, I'm sorry too." He winced.

_____

Then the moment was promptly ignored. Never talked about it again. You felt lost about it all. It was helpless to keep loving someone who would never love someone like you.

You tried to go on a date or two trying to shake off that the memory with Simon. But you quickly stopped all of that just after two dates. Why did it feel like betrayal? When before each date all Simon ever said to you from finding out were, 'thats fine'. His eyes not once leaving the TV screen.

"Simon this guy asked me on a date, i- i wont be here that evening"

"That sounds fine, have fun"

Or

"Simon I think I'll give him a chance"

"Sure fine" each blow to the heart pushes you more towards giving up.

Youre not even together. So you dont know why it hurts so much. It was impossible for you to even think about dating someone else now. So you just suck it up and endure it.

It was okay for a while, right until he started talking about other girls.

It came out of nowhere you think. But one week after another, there were issues and stories with a new girl each week, someone from his scholarship program. Someone from an expo. A guest speaker he admired. All of them he expressed how beautiful women can be, and that he can't seem to believe it sometimes. He would look over to you with gleam in his eyes. It felt like punishment, there was no way you could compete with that. They were all in his league, they were intelligent and strong and have bright futures. You have none of those things, you're entire existence brings down his bright one.

You remind yourself that after graduation, this should all be over. Just a few more weeks of unrequited love, and it can end.

It's better this way anyway, you think. You know you aren't meant for him.

One day Simon is going to invent something that would change the world, and then he will fly to somewhere like the white house, and they'll give him a bigger apartment, and his own lab, and they'll take him to countries like in Europe and talk to presidents, and he'll be so far away from you.

And you might just stay here and maybe get a job at the supermarket, and then you might stay there for a few years just to sort out a few things. Then maybe you'll move up in management at a nicer workplace, you're not quite sure of your plan is yet. Your two worlds are so different.

You smile sadly to yourself, and think of how happy your Simon is going to be. How proud you are to even know him. You can't really help it, but each night your tears slide down your cheek to your pillow thinking about him. His clear soothing voice, his delicate hands, his clueless similes. His hand on your shoulder, his stripped shirts and multiple sets of cargo pants. His scent on his shoulder, his lips on yours just that one time. You love him. And you don't know how to make it stop.

But that is all it can ever go. He doesnt want you, he deserves much more. So you kept to yourself, close to your heart. That's the only place it can belong.

_______

Then the night came, new years eve. There were fireworks out on the Street of his apartment. You watched it through his open window, the countdown in the last 6 seconds, at first you counted down, but his green eyes locked to yours so briefly, you think he looked nervous. You didn't even realize it struck midnight. In that next second his lips were on yours. A quick peck. All it was.

He pulled away and you stood there frozen. This was not fair. This hurts too much. You can't stand to be here any longer with the love you can never have. Your ears ring from your rage.

"What was that Simon"

"A-a-a new year's kiss."

"Yes, but i- you can't do that, it's not- DONT do this to me simon"

"Im sorry, I didn't mean anything i- i thought- I'm so dumb- i should have asked-"

So it doesn't mean anything to him?

"Yes, you should have. Do you have any idea what youve just- Nevermind. I'm, I'm going home" rush you snatch your things off his table and the floor

"Hey, where are you going? Do your ur parents expect you home?"

"No, I. I just can't do this anymore"

"What?"

"I'm too, I'm just too confused by you okay?"

"What what do you mean? Confused how? You cant mean you- you have- "

"What simon?" You wish By some miracle he says your confession.

"...do you have feelings for me?" There it is.

"...but you were so clear that you would never get feelings for me! You said! Well, no, you never said anything" His face full of shock

You can't respond, your breath just comes out in hard puffs.

"You never told me! I thought, well. You IGNORE me at school- " he laughs in disbelief, and ruffles his own hair.

"What? Its you that ignore me simon! Youre the one repulsed by me!

"What!? I'm not repulsed by you! Youre the one who made sure that what we have was so secret! You barely talk to me at school"

"I was not! You did that! You had your older smart friends, and Yale acceptances, and your stupid expensive sneakers! And you all looked at me, like I'm stupid, im the school idiot–" You don't understand why your the only one so mad and about to breakdown, while Simon just looked like he figured out the correct formula to something.

"Hey, You are not an idiot–"

"i AM. im STUPID, the dumbest girl you'll ever get to know. Im the one who has gotten myself, into this situation. And someone like me could never get to your level, into your circle. I can NEVER be a guest speaker for science, or get a Scholarship, i will never be an expert at anything like the girls you like so much!" You don't realize it hurt this much till you said it all.

"What do you have to do with them? I-i mean-"

"You think i dont know that? That i have nothing to do with them? And i'm here just holding my breath, knowing that youre about to pick another girl to fall madly in love with, KNOWING that im not on the fucking list of choices. but simon you dont even have the guts to ask one of them out!"

You silence Simon, and you think you've really hurt him this time. But he just looks disappointed and confused by the whole argument and sighs, he begins to speak so gently. "You- what are you- that's not true, i know my weakness, okay? I haven't gotten the courage yet to tell the girl I like that I want to be with her. Im- that's not fair, when you're the one who gives up on all your dates. Its like you date just to waste their time you know?. You don't even know what youre looking for. Your whole shtick is to never do anything with yor life, and to never ever be happy. You're just DETERMINED. Just so bent on wasting time! Like you waste MY time!"

"Ohh, I- " he's angry, really angry. You didn't anticipate how deep you cut him. How deep he would cut you. Tears begin to blur your vision.

"Oh, i- im sorry." He hides behind his palms now, and shaking them in front of him. "I just can't believe this right now, i- i just have a few days left to work on the battery…I knew doing this with you can't be good for me" He fists his hair and mumbles the hurtful words. He's moving quickly cleaning up around his apartment

You are not good for him. Of course, you knew this. You've always known that. But it hurt to confirm it.

"Yeah-" you hold your breath "I know" you voice breaks on the last word. "I know I'm not, in sorry."

"Hey, no, that's not what i-"

"I think, we should stop this thing that we're doing. Goodbye Simon." There was no time to look back, you ran out of his apartment.

—---

You stop coming over. You want him to finish his work in peace, soon he'll be in Yale, then get a fancy job somewhere far away, and you'll still be here in this town.

You cry every night, you're sure one day you'll run out of the pain. But now it's every night you just miss holding him.

—--

2 months later

You're phone doesn't even ring. There's just a voice message there from a strange number. On the rare occasion you have credit to hear your voice messages, this was one of them. You put the phone to your ear and hear the voice you've been missing. Two days after your fight, Simon disappeared without a trace. Worried sick you report him missing, but the police cleared the report saying Simon is safe but doesn't want to be found. It was just more secretive stuff you know are a part of Simon's world. It made you feel like Simon was some secret agent, it brought a little smile on your face.

But now after 2 months and nothing, you lost hope that he thought of you at all.

"You have one, new message"

"Hello? This is Simon. Are you there? Please tell me you're getting this message. God..They look my phone away, so I couldn't get to you. Its - its just the CIA. Don't worry im, I'm safe. I mean, maybe youre not actually even worried about me. Well, but. Um. But then I built a phone? Um for me to say something..important. I need to say this."

"I think get it, ive been thinking about it, that maybe you thought I never cared about you, because im an IDIOT. Just, whatever you think...and I cant even believe you might think this…its just not true. You are worth so much, you are the most important person to me, to my life. You keep me going, you calm me, you inspire me. You are NOT and idiot. I just- that i just have an unusually large brain compared to others!"

You could hear him cringing through the phone after saying that, and you let out a short laugh.

"P-Please I don't know if you've just moved on from me, but i-i. I have to let you know. I think- I think, I mean, I KNOW I actually love you. I mean, I do. I love you. Ive felt this way for a long time. And, and, I want to take you on a date, and we can call each other nicknames. And..kiss, and hold hands. I just miss you, so much. Um, so if you maybe feel the same, I hope you um, respond to this message. My encrypted email is ***@mail.co um okay. Email me, please. I love you."

His voice shook through the entire message, like the same way he would ask favors from a stranger. A nervous wreck.

Tears were streaming down your face. His voice was like home.

You dial back the mystery number.

One hour later, the CIA was at your door. You catch Simon's bashful face toeing in behind them. More tears spring to your eyes, but this time there are happy ones.

----------

A/N: you didn't even use the email. Just called the CIA and got into trouble 😃