#wish i could be springy like hi.

[ediewentmissing]

Hiii!! Could you write an angst/fluff eddie fic based on a bad habit of mine? 😬 I have this habit of using things like using the bathroom or eating as a reward for finishing a task 🥴 I won’t use the bathroom even if I have to go bad until I finish an assignment or something. I’d love to know how he would react to reader doing that 🫶

this is such an adorable thought. i wish i could’ve done this better but i have a shit ton of work to do so i had to smash this out in 10 minutes 😭 so sorry for the lack of quality here but hope it’s up to standard ❤️

you’re scribbling away at your desk, filling out an important stack of sheets for mr. higgins to review tomorrow. your wrist aches from writing and your stomach is growling at you for not feeding it.

you look over at your alarm clock on your bedside table. 1 PM. shit. you haven’t eaten anything since yesterday night’s dinner. you look back at the incomplete papers miserably and continue jotting.

“hey, sweets!” eddie bursts through your bedroom door. he flashes you a smile and stands in front of you, rocking excitedly back and forth on his feet, hiding something behind his back.

you giggle at him, “what have u got hidden back there?”

“well, y’know that vinyl at camelot that you were obsessing about?”

“appetite for destruction?” you ask, “yeah, i remember. why?”

he pulls the shiny new vinyl from behind him, waving it in both hands, “i brought it!”

“eddie! i told you not to!” you laugh as he hands it over, “it was expensive!”

“hm, well i may or may not have done a massive deal with one of the tiger’s basketball players and earned a fuck-ton of cash,” he smiles, “so how ‘bout we get up and dance…” he wiggles his brows, “and relax for a bit, yeah?” he holds out his hands to lift u up from the seat at your desk.

“yeah, that sounds good,” you wave his hands away, “but i’ve gotta get this done. maybe later, ‘kay?”

“later?” he frowns, “you’ve never said later to music before, babe. what’s up? have you miraculously decided that music isn’t good enough for you anymore?” he crosses his arms.

“no, music is life, and as much as i love the idea of jamming out, i have to get this done. shoo, shoo,” you wave a hand at him, but of course he doesn’t plan on going anywhere.

“what are you doing that so important, huh?” he questions, leaning over your shoulder to take a look at the important work in question. “wait, wait, wait,” he says confused, “weren’t you doing this this morning, like, before i left?”

you nod timidly, and his mouth opens to protest, but you speak quickly, “yes, but it’s really important! it needs to be done, eds!”

“okay! okay!” he puts his hands up, mock surrendering, “well have you taken a break since you started?”

“uh…” you hesitate.

“have you eaten?” he asks, concerned. you don’t say anything. “right, that’s it,” he claps his hands together and hauls you up from your seat, “i’m going to make you a signature gourmet eddie munson special. extra special for an extra special lady, yeah?” he smiles as he drags you down the hallway to the living area.

“now sit,” he says, promptly pushing your shoulders down so you sit on the springy sofa in front of the tv. he turns it on. “watch,” he points to the tv, “relax,” he pulls your feet up to rest on the coffee table, “got it?”

you nod, closing your eyes and lolling your head back on the couch, finally relaxing. “mhmm… i can’t feel my butt.”

“probably because you’ve been sitting on that same fucking chair all day,” he chuckles from the kitchen. you can hear food bubbling.

after a couple minutes he comes back with a bowl, setting it down beside your feet, “there ya go, babe.”

you pick it up and giggle, “is your ‘signature gourmet eddie munson special’ really spaghetti?”

“ah, ah, ah,” he tuts, “canned spaghetti,” he says, as if it makes it even more special.

you’re about to eat it before you stop the forkful of spaghetti from entering your mouth. “hang on. since when did we have canned spaghetti?”

“dunno,” he shrugs, “found it at the back of the cupboard.”

“at the back of the cupboard?” you repeat, “pass me the can.” he gives you a confused look before darting to the kitchen to grab the empty can from the counter.

he passes it to you and you read it aloud, “use by the fifteenth of april, 1984… eddie your supposedly ‘gourmet food’ is expired by three years.”

[xalandrix]

WIP snip time!!

thanks for the tag, @maesterchill!

in late June i got completely derailed from my other projects by the continuation of Harry Potter's Bedroom Tips for Snake Animagi. i've written over 30k for it, and i truly believe it's some of my best work. i wish i could tell you when it will be done, but that's just not how my brain works, unfortunately!

anyway, here's a short and slightly spicy snip from chapter 2:

Another consequence of his indulgence is that he now appreciates a number of details pertaining to the blowjob that he was too overwhelmed to notice the first time. Such as: the greedy excitement in Potter's eyes as he took Draco's cock into his throat. The silky tingle of his magic flowing from his fingertips, cool and gentle and slippery-smooth. The eagerness of his inhuman tongue exploring his knot, rubbing, squeezing, savouring. The texture of his thick and unruly hair, soft and springy under his palm. His deep, delicious moan when Draco came, which had fallen upon deaf ears as his world imploded.

That moan haunts him, flays him open, makes him feel possessed. There was no reason for Potter to moan like that unless he was enjoying it, enjoying the pulse of his cock, enjoying a thick, throbbing length thrusting deep into his throat. He wouldn’t have done it to stroke Draco's ego, that's for sure. The thought of Potter loving his cock like that makes him dizzy, and he shoves it desperately away whenever it tries to creep back into his consciousness.

It must be that Potter just loves cock in general, not Draco's specifically. He has to believe that or he'll lose his mind completely. Certainly Potter wouldn’t have got that good at giving head if he didn't love cock. All signs point to him having taken a lot of dicks down his throat, which is alarming, upsetting, and much hotter than Draco is prepared to deal with.

tagging all of my lovely alpha/beta readers: @starquestingfordrarry @sleepstxtic @rainstormradish @hoko-onchi-writes @apricitydays-lazynights

tagging @enparallel @annanother-thing tooooo

[meetinginsamarra]

mayprompts2024 #3, familiar

Read part one (using the prompt "box") here

+++++

The Perfect Place - Part Two

Sherlock should have listened to John’s expertly recited explanations about the important boxspring bed features like the firmness of the mattress, the springiness of the boxsprings, the delightful cooling effect of premium silk coverings and what must have been a million more obviously vital-for-buying-a-bed things that had to be considered.

Sherlock briefly wondered how John was able to remember such a boatload of utterly boring nonsensical dull facts. Could it be that John had a similar construction in his brain like Sherlock’s mind palace?

(John had not, of course. As a former student of medicine, he was pretty well used to memorize tons of facts with questionable usefulness in a short amount of time in order to pass his exams.)

But then Sherlock focused on watching John Watson’s body language change while he advertised the bed and it was utterly fascinating. Sherlock was absolutely pleased with himself to find out that all the deductions he had made about John Watson over the past two days when he had stalked him had been correct.

Now, Sherlock saw John Watson transform into the man who was familiar with walking the battlefields, was no stranger to keeping calm in the face of volence and was accustomed to dangerous situations and people.

The immediate danger of getting fired if he did not sell this bed had already changed John’s posture into standing more erect and he was safely using his bad leg whithout the walking cane that leant forgotten against the counter. John’s eyes had become bright and alert, losing their dull sheen of desperation and boredom and when he pointed with his hand at various parts of the bed it had become steady and showed no signs of its previously intermittent tremor.

When Sherlock had first laid his eyes upon John, he had immediately deduced the man’s history. Doctor, soldier, invalided home. Once an acclaimed hero and saver-of-lives, now a depressed suicidal reject with no perspective in life.

How could this Bernie person have hired John as a shop assistant and been convinced that this was a good idea? It was blaringly obvious that John did not belong into this place and would be a terrible salesman on top. Was Bernie blind?

Forcing John to work here was like confining a majestic Bengal tiger in a cage and watch him pacing to and fro, going slowly mad and starting to gnaw on his leg while banging his head repeatedly against the iron bars. Maybe Bernie was just cruel on purpose.

(Bernie was not. Either. But he had been smoking weed before the job interview with John and found his supposedly customer-friendly smile charming. When the psychedelic effects had worn off, Bernie realized what mistake he had made but it had been too late and he had to stick to employing John for the four-week trial period.)

“… and that’s basically all there is to know about the ‘Royal Metropolis Deluxe’ boxspring bed,” John ended his advertising monologue. “What do you think?”

“Awesome.” Sherlock breathed, thrown back into reality. (Meaning John, not the bed.)

“I’m very glad to hear this,” replied John. (Wishing the client had said that about him instead of the stupid bed.)

+++++

Sorry, that's all I could manage today. Possibly typos in there but it's late and I am very tired. The Bed Shop AU will continue tomorrow!

tagging some people (tagging on desktop seems to work) (I hope) @calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @peanitbear @raina-at @lisbeth-kk

[mamawasatesttube]

fluffy soft sentence starters!!! “Never. Never will I stop loving you.”?

Lightning cracks open the sky, a brilliant flash brighter than daybreak. Rain drums against the windowpanes and rolls in sheets down the glass; the Kansas sky is a stormy grey as far as the eye can see. The trees around the farmhouse whip back and forth, bending in the wind, and from the distance comes the low, ominous crackaboom of thunder.

Gotham doesn't really get storms like the Midwest. It makes sense, for a place called Tornado Alley, but it's still a sight to behold. Tim doesn't think he's ever quite understood what Kon means, about the sky out here making everything else feel small, until the first time he saw the magnificent dread of a late summer storm.

Today's, according to all three of Tim's weather apps, has them under tornado watch, but Kon doesn't seem overly concerned. He's halfway to dozing off, his head pillowed on Tim's thigh and Krypto curled up on his legs in lieu of a blanket. He looks cozy.

He's not feeling his best today, though. He hasn't said anything, but Tim knows how to read him. He's been too quiet, and too many of his smiles have been forced.

He scrunches his fingers idly through Kon's soft, springy curls, smiling slightly when Kon hums in appreciation and presses his head a little further into his hand. Krypto does the same thing when he's getting ear scritches.

After a few moments, Kon breaks the silence with a heavy sigh. His fingers curl against Tim's knee.

"Sorry," he mumbles, his voice a little rough from disuse. "For being so... boring today. I know I said we could play Zelda together, 'n' all, and then I've been just... sitting here."

Tim sighs fondly. When will he get it? "I don't mind just sitting here with you. Technically, 'Twilight Princess' is a single-player game. If I really wanted, I could just play it myself, you know."

A flicker of a smile tugs at Kon's lips. "Wouldn't be as funny, though."

"Yeah, no," Tim agrees, stroking his hair back from his forehead. "It wouldn't."

Admittedly, few things are funnier than each of them taking half of the controller for a single-player game and then hoping for the best. Tim prefers to have the joystick for movement control, but that leaves Kon in charge of the camera, except for when Tim overrides him with the target lock-on button. It never really gets them far in a game before they die, but it is really funny.

Thunder crackles and booms outside again. Krypto's ears twitch. Kon heaves another deep, world-weary sigh. His hand reaches up to find Tim's, and he intertwines their fingers, tucking their joined hands under his chin.

"Sometimes, when I get like this," he admits, "I start wondering when you'll get sick of me. Not if, but when. It's so..." He lets out a frustrated breath and bows his head, his lips brushing Tim's knuckles. The stubble on his jaw is a little scratchy against Tim's skin. "I know it's not fair to think of you like that. But my stupid brain doesn't listen to me. It just keeps asking when? when? when?"

Sometimes, Tim wishes he had a time machine just to go back a few years and punt Tana Moon into the ocean. Knockout, too, superstrength and all that or not. And to scream at everybody, his younger self included, for not noticing the kinds of relationships Kon, naive and innocent and so very starved for affection, got groomed into twice over.

In the present, Tim rests his other hand atop Kon's curly head, caressing his thumb over the shaved fuzz behind his ear. "Easy answer," he says. "Never. I will never stop loving you. So tell your brain to suck on that."

That gets a soft, breathy huff of laughter out of Kon. Tim mentally fist-pumps at his success, not bothering to hide his smile. He likes when Kon laughs.

Abruptly, he rolls over in Tim's lap, dislodging Krypto, who lifts his head with a disdainful look in reprimand before he settles himself back down. Kon buries his face in Tim's stomach, sliding his arms around his hips, and lets out a breath.

"Love you too, Rob." His voice is endearingly muffled by Tim's shirt. "...And thanks. For getting it."

"Hey, you always get me," Tim points out, rubbing a small circle into his shoulder. "So, anytime, clone boy. You wanna go take a nap?"

Kon shakes his head. His nose presses into Tim's waist. "Just wanna stay like this a few minutes." He sighs again. "...Then we can make some hot choccy and maybe game after. S'good hot choccy weather."

"Yeah," Tim agrees, resting his hand on his Kon's shoulder. "That sounds good to me."

Thunder rumbles outside again; rain splashes hard against the glass. Inside, though, he feels warm.

[eevylynn]

WIP Wednesday

I was tagged by @violetfairydust and @endwersed like 2 weeks ago, but I had a lot of art due, so my writing wips were the last thing on my mind, lol

This is from a wholesome little unnamed one shot that I've been working on with a meet cute between Single Parent!Stiles and Single Parent!Derek at the park.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

This summer was going to be a rough one, Stiles could tell already.

It was the first week of summer break, and it just so happened to fall on Stiles’ week with his daughter.

Planning for a day at the park as a parent never failed to surprise Stiles in how complicated it was. As a kid, he never would have guessed how much went into it.

Packing everything into his folding wagon, he went through his mental checklist: towel, change of clothes, water bottles, lunch, popsicles, sunscreen, and a folding chair (because he’d long since learned the hard way that most parks simply don’t have enough benches).

“I want to pull the wagon, daddy!” Emma insisted in that adorable little voice of hers.

“I think it might be a little heavy. How about we pull it together?” Stiles suggested.

She happily replied, “Okay, daddy!”

Together, they pulled the wagon across the parking lot and towards the playground.

To beat the heat, Stiles figured he’d bring Emma to the new park that had just been built while he was gone. They had demolished the creepy, abandoned building Beacon Hills claimed as a community center and the rickety playground equipment Stiles used to risk his life playing on when he was a kid. In its place was a large, colorful playground themed around the preserve’s wilderness with the different sized play structures making the playground as a whole look like a fun version of Robinson Crusoe’s campsite, complete with fake logs and tree stumps fashioned into a balancing obstacle course and statues of cute woodland creatures for the kids to climb on. The whole area was on that nice springy rubber base that many kids’ playgrounds seemed to have now.

Right next to it was an open splash pad that allowed kids to run between the two as they wished. It was just large enough to not feel cramped with all of the kids playing, but small enough that Stiles could sit anywhere around it and not feel like he’s a world away from her if she’s on the other side of the splash pad.

Between the two, creating a nice triangle of active play areas, was a large, old tree with a huge, handicapped accessible treehouse with a maze of zig zagging ramps the kids loved to race up and down on. Near the top, was a hammock between several large limbs created from industrial strength cables and ropes.

Today, however, the path they would normally use to get directly to the splash pad was blocked by a brightly colored mobile library.

“Daddy, can we get a book?” Emma asked, letting go of the wagon and running in front of Stiles to excitedly jump up and down while pointing.

“Em, didn’t you just get some books from the library last week?” He said patiently. “Your mom said you even packed them in your bag to bring to my house.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t this library!” she replied with the most dramatic eye roll. “This is in a bus!”

Looking at the mobile library, Beacon County Library logo printed on its side in a bright blue, Stiles thought back to when he was a kid and how he would have felt about it before giving an answer. Being honest with himself, Stiles acknowledged that this would have been the greatest thing ever when he was little, too.

“Fine,” Stiles conceded with a sigh. “We’ll go after we find a spot for our stuff, but I’m only agreeing to ONE book for you. One!” he reiterated with a finger up to nail his point down.

Emma cheered.

He shook his head and smiled at her before turning to pull the wagon between the playground structures to take the slightly longer way to the splash pad.

Stiles had thought that showing up to the park around ten in the morning was a great idea, and that it wouldn’t be packed, that there wouldn’t be as many people.

He was wrong.

Every single bench in the shade was occupied. There were half a dozen different colored umbrellas lining the edge of the splash pad, and Stiles was hoping to get a seat at one of the benches with a view of the playground and treehouse as well, so he could have a set spot for all of their belongings while Emma played.

Well, at least Stiles was in the habit of bringing his chair as a just in case.

He looked around for a spot of shade he could sneak into. Unfortunately, at this time of day, the treehouse tree did not leave shade on the splash pad side of it. If he set up in its current shady spot, Stiles would only be able to see part of the playground and almost none of the splash pad.

That’s no good.

Maybe Stiles could set up near one of the umbrellas, close enough for his chair and the cooler to be under the shade, but not all up in someone else’s business.

Most of the umbrellas seemed to have a whole group of people’s worth of stuff. Multiple parents huddled under the bench with several bags spread on the ground around them.

Except one.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Low pressure tagging: @renmackree, @dear-massacre, @hedwig221b, @triskhellion, and anyone else that wants to

[vi-trying-to-survive]

Hey, I know you have finals right now (wishing you the best on those, I know you’ve got this!!) but I just thought I would make a request before I forgot about it lol. Obviously, it’s a Stephen Strange x female reader fic because I love him <3 Maybe one where it’s almost Christmas time but that’s not necessarily important I just love the winter lol. But the main part of the story is that they are playing Mario Kart extremely early in the morning (aka they still have their pajamas on, which is the best way to play Mario Kart) and both of them are competitive but in a friendly and loving way?? And some super cute and fluffy ending that I’ll let you decide because I can’t think of one and I trust you entirely :) anyways, hope all is well and that you do well on your exams!!!

Stephen Strange x f!Reader

Summary: Stephen and Y/N keeping up with Christmas traditions (basically what it says in the request :) )

Warnings: None, just fluff :))))))

A/N: Hope you guys like it !! I'm sorry I've basically been MIA also though, but I'm trying to write more now :')))) Also if you have any ideas or think I could improve my writing in anyway do let me know :)

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(Y/N) groaned as the sunshine streamed through the windows, caressing her face, willing her to wake up, as she tried to fight it, stuffing her face into the fluffy pillows, but eventually failing and flipping over, granted there was not much effort to it. Blinking her eyes, she rubbed slightly with the base of her palm, trying to get rid of the sleep that had formed as they focused on the room that surrounded her, the blurred edges becoming sharper and more visible. She yawned deeply, stretching her arms out a little, before leaning back into the mattress, soft and springy, sinking into the warm embrace of the man that held her comfortably, somehow still in deep sleep, inhaling the familiar scent of pine wood and spice that always stuck to him. Feeling him stir a little at her movements, she was quick to lace her fingers in his dark locks, gently brushing through any tangles, slowly lulling back to sleep. Turning her body to face his she couldn't help but admire him, so at peace when he slept, the lines along his face relaxed and almost non-existent, lips parted ever so slightly, as his chest rose up and down calmly. She found herself smiling affectionately at the sight of him, knowing that it had always been hard for the man to relax, first neurosurgery then the mystic arts and now a protector of the multiverse, he never seemed to be able to give himself a break, at least until her was asleep, it was like seeing an entirely new side of Stephen so relaxed and nonchalant. She wished that he would give himself that more often, for his own sake, but he never listened, always putting the world before himself, honourable but relatively self-destructive, so she figured the least she could do was let him sleep in for another hour or so, and it wasn't like they had any pressing matters to attend to.

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

"Honey, hurry up already or I'm going to start it without you", she called tauntingly, waving the multi-coloured controllers in the air, not needing to turn around to imagine the exasperated look on his face.

"Oh my- Would you stop I am getting food for you and me", he frowned, tapping his foot impatiently, almost spilling the milk over the edge of the bowl. He was usually against cereal, claiming that it's not a food for an adult, but there were exceptions. Capping the carton swiftly, he balanced the two matching bowls and mugs unsystematically in his arms, nearly letting everything fall over in his hurry to reach her.

She could only grin in delight as she started counting backwards, "Three, two-", knowing how much it annoyed him, which was only confirmed by groan as he got closer to her spot on the couch.

"Okay, stop", he huffed out, freeing his arms as he placed the food on the coffee table, plopping down and grabbing his controller out of her hold, "I'm here".

"Just in time", she teased, waggling her finger at him in a disappointed manner, before shovelling a spoon-full of the probably unhealthy sugary cereal into her mouth, savouring the tooth-rotting taste and adjusting her grip around the controller.

He rolled his eyes, running a hand through his dark locks as he leaned back onto the plush velvet pillows that were splayed along the seat, "Yeah, yeah, just start the game and then we'll see who's talking".

"If you say so ?", she sang out, confidently hitting start, unable to help the way her smile grew wider as the familiar music rang out, almost bursting in excitement.

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

He bit his lip hard, unable to feel it as his heart raced with adrenaline, whispering under his breath, "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon", his fingers flying along the controls, gaze fixated on the bright colours on the screen, before it all went blank and revealed the scoreboard. He fell face-flat onto the fluffy pillow, partly hoping to suffocate himself so he wouldn't be able to feel the embarrassment that he did now. How was it that he Stephen Strange, neurosurgeon and master of the mystic arts, was unable to ever beat his fiancé at Mario Cart.

"Ahahahaha, YES", jumping up and down on the couch cushions, she caused him to shake around with her, as she waved her arms in air, performing a terrible victory dance, exclaiming, "I am triumphant once again". On another day, he probably would've made fun of her for it but at the time he was wallowing in too much self pity for that.

He sat up, swiping a palm across his face contorted in confusion, "I never understand, you always win at the last second".

"It's called being the queen of Mario Cart", she smirked, giving him an affectionate poke on the arm, to which she got no response but a pout from the sorcerer, which was pretty uncharacteristic from the man who always needed the last word.

She shook her head, chuckling as she moved closer to him bumping her shoulder against his and letting her head drop onto his shoulder, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck, "Awwwww, are you upset". She placed a soft kiss on his skin, the heat radiating off him warming up her lips, hoping to get an answer, and yet he still kept to his pact of silence.

"You are such a big baby", she huffed crossing her arms, slinking down onto the side of the armrest, glaring at him.

A sudden thought came to her mind and she grinned maliciously at him, which he took no notice of, "If you won't talk to me I guess I just have to use extreme measures", before raising her fingers to his sides, tickling aggressively, breaking his stoic manner as he burst into laughter. She moved closer to him, to get a better angle at tickling, causing tears to brim at his eyes and her to giggle along with him.

"Okay, fine you win, just stop", he managed to admit defeatedly even with his hard laughter, raising his arms in the air, like waving a white flag at her, pulling her into his lap, still smiling, "I love you". He rested his hands gently on her waist, fiddling with the hem of her sweater, humming softly as her fingers twirled around the strands of hair on the back of his neck, watching her lovingly , before pressing her closer to him, joining their lips for a sweet kiss.

Pulling away, she nestled herself comfortably in his hold, enjoying his warmth, whispering "I love you too", as she pecked his cheek affectionately.

[sircesimblr]

Manon: Because, dear Rachel, Mr. Orbin Les, as a child, brought home every animal in need he found on the streets. From dogs, to cats, to birds and even a rattlesnake once, he found them and they found him, and then, because his family home already was overcrowded with the four sisters this gentleman has, and an aging old grandpa as well, his troubled parents decided e-ve-ry-time, that little Orbin could not keep them, but had to bring them to the animal shelter instead. From then on, he visited the shelter, played there, grew up there. Whenever he needed to escape the busy hustle-bustle at home, he went to the poor little animals to give them some love. And they gave it back.

Orbin: That's right. I've found I can think a lot clearer when I'm holding an animal. I am very much at ease with them.

Manon: Now, this, Rachel, is a man after my own heart. And I am sure yours as well. I have my poor, sweet, abandoned little nibbles, and he has his little furries, springies and barkies that are just as much in need of love as my children. Now he only needs some human love himself.

Orbin: I feel very grateful for how my life is now. It is full, and happy. A woman like Rachel would be very, very...

Manon: Come now, Mr. Les, you are fretting about it. Day and night. About that one thing missing. And it had to be your sister, putting you on the spot, to connect with our sweet Rachel, before you'd be too old and rusty. You would've spent your life convincing yourself more and more that only animals can give you love. Because that's what you are best at. Fret and choose what you already know.

Orbin: Well... yes... that is... a tendency... But I truly feel happy at heart, Miss de La Haye. It's just... things happen to go wrong. Sometimes.

Manon: You spent a great deal of your life in the animal shelter and when your education called for it, you thought you'd best become a veterinarian, like Rachel! You applied to the same college she is in, and failed after the first year! A few years later, you tried again, and failed again! You gave up! Because you were always cuddling animals, at the cost of your own prospects!

Orbin: Still, that got me the job I have now, and am very good at. Honeycomb Valley's Animal Shelter does not only run most efficient on its subsidies, it also has been awarded year after year as the best and happiest and healthiest...

Manon: It is, but you...

Stam: Cut it out, Miss. Shouldn't you promote the guy? He's a man after your own heart you said. This isn't a very sensitive way to go about it, is it?

Manon: These are things Rachel should know.

Stam: And she will. She's perceptive, and caring. She will understand and she will see he is happy. And I have a feeling he will be even more happy, seeing her succeed at those studies he failed at himself.

Manon: Well, I don't know. I, myself... I... My goodness, you gentlemen really are NOT from Praaven. How! how can you be so considerate? You are gentlemen! You should not care! Prospects are everything. Achievements! Reaching something before anyone else does. Earn the love of a lady!

Orbin: By being honest, and interested. It is all I wish to do for Rachel right now.

Orbin: So, hi, Rachel, I am Orbin. We may have a lot in common and it would be really nice to get to know each other. It doesn't have to be a date yet, either. Just come by at the shelter some time, I will recognize you and I'm sure you will recognize me. We'll each pick up a cat and we could talk. I'd love to see you around. Bye!

Klaus-Ove: Hey Orbs, are you alright? That was a little short - and tough?

Orbin: Yes, I'm fine. Thanks, guys. Thank you too, Miss de La Haye. It's all on Rachel anyways.

Manon: ... Again, my humble apologies... I got carried away. You don't know how it is, for a spinster woman in Praaven. It really isn't all sunshine and dewy mornings.

Stam: I think we get the idea...

Manon: Yes, I'm sure you do. You considerate bunch of friendly ... oh, I could just as well call you my nibbles too! My lovely modern grown up nibbles, please, next one, do stand up and don't fear my ramblings. Miss Rachel, I present to you: Mister Stam Hardenes, who, in my opinion is the most rounded package you can get, and also, as it seems, already bubbling with love for your lovely little self!

(meet him tonight, and Klaus-Ove tomorrow, in the next episodes of this little AU ministory!)

(prev)

[batfoonery]

I’m sad tonight so have a stupid little headcannon of mine about how I think Damian grows up

Firstly, he cannot grow up this is Illegal that’s my spunky little guy!

But if he must (and I suppose he must)

Personally I don’t agree with DC’s tendency to make him Big n Bulky like Bruce.

Assuming Talia really did handpick certain traits, she probably would have leaned towards traits better for being an assassin. Like a more slender frame. Probably not as slender as Tim. If we chart it with Bruce n Jay being the Bulkiest and Tim being the most slim (but still very strong!) and Dick as the midpoint (aerodynamic but wider chest + shoulders) then I’d put him between Jay and Dick, but certainly a bit closer to the latter than the former.

I also am of the opinion that he’s the second most springy (flexible) after Dick.

So, I know with ballerinas the reason they have to start young is bc they have to start forming the flexible pathways (I’m not wording that right but the actual term eludes me rn) bc when you reach adolescence your joints start hardening into their final full adult spots and pathways. I’m assuming that the same applies to gymnasts.

Damian would’ve been a prime age for this development of sproingy joints. Tim and Jay were already teens, so although they have the ability to be damned good acrobats, they can’t develop the same range of motion that D & d have.

And yes, this would require developing the motions. But Damian likely already had learned techniques that required a particular level of flexibility in the LoA, and then when Dick was Batman (and in charge of training) I think he would have leaned towards more acrobatic skills. Both bc it’s useful and bc he needed a way to wear the kid out so he’d stop trying to escape and maybe take a nap for once. Getting bouncy kids (well. Not bouncy, but certainly Energized) to settle down by wearing them out by tricking them into doing cross wheels across the lawn is a classic older-sibling-stuck-babysitting tactic.

Overall this means his muscle tone would probably build in a way similar to Dick as well. Not totally the same! Part of our ability to build muscle is genetic—some of us are better at putting it in certain places than others

So where Dick’s generalized shape is like an upside-down triangle (or, if the artist is choosing to be particularly annoying about the poor guy’s rear then an unfortunate wasp figure—please that poor man’s back…. Shapely but reasonable is that really too much to ask for?) I think Damian’s thighs will be Thick like Bruce’s, making him somewhat of an hourglass (ass not as defined as Dick’s though) although the narrowest part of his waist will still only be slightly curved in (so not as severe as the description ‘hourglass’ typically invokes).

Height? No clue. Smaller than Bruce but not by much I’m guessing. Tall but not too tall and somewhat slender would probably help with assassin-ing in Talia’s eyes.

Although personally I think it would be really funny if he was second smallest (Tim reigning shorty supreme of course).

Features? No clue! Honestly kids can inherit so many potential features, who knows! I like when artists give him darker skin and Talia’s nose. But I’m biased bc I wish my skin was darker (I’m half Mexican half white and wow the pale is Blinding so unfortunately I am aware just how pale mixed children can be) and Talia is like. The hottest person in DC for me. I also like the green eyes bc it makes sense for him to have been exposed to the Lazarus pit, although I’m open to them having been a different color at birth for Angst purposes.

I just think there’s so many recessive traits that could pop up as he gets older. Or maybe he starts out being Bruce’s mini-me and then magically shifts into Talia’s boy. But I like the thought of him having something unexpected like one singular dimple on his left cheek—inherited from Martha and the Kane lineage but skipped Bruce (however Kate has the same dimple). Or maybe the droop of his eyelids recalls memories of Talia’s mother (not that Ra’s ever shared this info other than maybe once in passing when he first saw the baby).

That’s it that’s all! Agree, don’t agree, I don’t really mind either way. I just think it’s fun to think about sometimes.

[poly-lights]

PART 2 TO MY II PREDICTIONS/WISHES/QUESTIONS (technically) SINCE YALL ACTUALLY KINDA LIKED THOSE?? and i have more!

please note btw that most, if not all, of this is not gonna happen bc they can't pack EVERYTHING into a 30 minute or so episode and not gonna lie some of these are my fixation talking and me being delusional. it's good to theorize though!!

lots of bias. let's get into it

i told my gf this BUT it'd be cool if there was a scene of trees changing, to represent seasons passing because it has to have been a year at most right

more lightbulb using her electrokinesis scenes plspls?????? like. she can just casually DO THAT....maybe have her use it for evil/J IM KIDDING. don't have her kill anyone

............................yet

another knife and suitcase scene, elaborating on the "making your presence known", how suitcase took it a different way, just a conversation if that makes sense

yknow. what was that roboarm in the gemory cave. and is it Still working after lightbulb powered it on.

unrelated but still.more so a question have we or will we ever get the full roommate list drop?? unless they're gonna wait for when s2 is done to not spoil anything

baseball and lightbulb friendship scene :] team captain style!

i think it's gonna release on OR near the anniversary, if the iii finale is so soon early into 2024 it gives slight time

can we get parent lore drop??? like hello?????? they cant just said what they said in iii ep 14 and never expand on it, so i have a heavy feeling its gonna get mentioned in s2 if not ep 15 specifically

im just hoping for lb centric, even if her lore doesn't match up well with the slams. pls im so autism abt her at this point its anything BUT funny

now here's some iii 18 predictions!! for fun :] and also me just rambling abt it (spoilers for iii 17!!!!)

those who left to the hotel come back for jury voting!! more importantly fan and pb please💥

bot and springy and gonna be near each other again next episode. springy may still try to pull some shit with bot, and, assuming so, if TEST TUBE IS BY BOT'S SIDE......

springy made that suitcase bot, so clearly he knows about season 2

we may just get ii 14 tt again. which i am HOPING for. idk i love seeing test tube ENRAGED for the people she cares about she's so fun and unique bc MAN that girl is angry. she's holding grudges against Two People

also. fan meeting bot? he is going to have such a big and hopefully impactful reaction!! pls he has his patterns and the sudden changes make him uncomfortable they need to mention this

if he knows about season 2......could he make, or has he made, toys of the other final four? again im just gripping at straws for an iis2 final four appearance

think abt it though. it's the iii finale. you think they won't do something big? considering mephone knows he has to go back? springy could easily torment him w that considering the whole "facing your past" theming

also walkie talkie is Totally associated with meeple. ik we've all figured that out but i just had to say something. very heavily focused on using electronics to better the future? implying robots taking over others positions?

also??? past contestants coming back SEEING the toys?? maybe. Maybe.

the entire episode could also just be a discussion and play on the ethics of ai and how it's affecting the writing industry by putting people out of jobs due to its advancement and im reading way too much into it but hey im putting my hard hat on and channeling my inner matpat for this stupid show about objects with limbs (/pos btw)

also. are they gonna leave floor behind??? or will they scoop him into a terrarium, then plant him into inanimate island?

can he teleport that far?? how far is paradise?????????? ae drop the map pls/silly

ALSO ALSO. WHAT ARE THE INANI-MATES?? IS N/A THE LAST OF THEIR KIND??????? i doubt it but STILL everyone else in that group died

hey. why is the background of the recap song the background used when the gemories formed the silhouette of cobs. hey now.

[thedeathlysallows]

Ch.12: Mars

            “She’s what?!”

            The secretary- what’s her name again? Gianna? Is that the one we’re on?- shakes so violently she drops whatever stack of papers she had been clutching to her chest when she approached me.

            “She’s gone.” Gianna won’t meet my eyes. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened. I was just asked to tell you-”

            “Who told you to tell me?!”

            “R-Roseanna. She said to let you know she was leaving.”

            “Fuck!” I slam my fist into the stone wall, bits of dust falling to the floor. “She walked out the front fucking door?”

            “Y-yes.”

            Kit rolls her eyes. “Christ, Felix, you’re scaring the poor girl.” She swiftly gathers the scattered papers and puts them back in Gianna’s hands. “Here. Go back to your desk and don’t worry about this. You aren’t in trouble. Felix is just a drama queen.”

            Gianna looks like she’s about to argue, but scurries out the door when I throw another punch. This time at Demetri.

            “You helped her,” I yell.

            Demetri’s eyes darken. “You would accuse me of helping Roseanna escape when we both know damn well Aro has been keeping a close eye on her. Especially after you showed a complete lack of self-control by changing her in the first place.”

            “The same lack of self-control you showed when you kidnapped Kit?”

            Kit snaps her fingers, glaring between me and her husband. “Both of you stop. You’re being idiots. There’s no need for any of this.”

            “I disagree. Clearly, the two of you aren’t to be trusted. You’re the only two who even knew she was down there. Who else could it have been?” I look over at Kit and see the answer in her eyes, but she doesn’t dare say it. “No… she wouldn’t…”

            Kit sighs. “We all know how she gets when she wants something, Felix. Anne’s seen her opportunity for revenge against The Society and she’ll use Roseanna to get it. My advice? Just let it happen. Roseanna will come back after it’s done.”

            I narrow my eyes at the small girl, but she doesn’t shirk from my gaze. “You sound so certain. What are you not telling me?”

            “What I told her,” a lilting soprano voice calls out. Anne appears not a moment later, red hair falling down her back in shiny, springy curls. She smiles kindly if a little sadly. “Felix, Roseanna needs to do this. I freed her so she can fulfill her destiny. The Society needs to fall and she needs to be the one to bring it to its knees. I’ve seen it. Fire never lies.”

            My reputation may be that of a dumb brute amongst lesser vampires, but I know when to keep my mouth shut.

            Anne tilts her head and regards me with her eerily deep eyes. “She was never meant to be one of us so soon. You’ve altered her future in a dangerous way, Felix… yet… there’s not a path where she doesn’t return to you.”

            Of course she’ll return to me, I want to say. I’ll make her return. I’ll play cat and mouse forever if I fucking have to because she’s mine.

            But instead of actually saying any of that I simply incline my head. “Yes, of course.”

            “You have my permission to go after her if you so desire.” Anne checks her nails before adding, “Aro, I’m sure, would also appreciate an update on my brother and his family.”

            Her eyes briefly glisten with unshed tears before she sniffs and walks away. Presumably back to the tower. None of us know exactly how deep the fracture between Anne and Carlisle went after Edward came to us wishing for death.

            “Speaking of brothers,” Kit says. “Tell mine he’s an idiot and an asshole for not inviting me. He was invited to ours.”

            “That was before, Catherine.” Demetri’s voice is quiet as he speaks. “Too much has changed in less than a year.”

            Kit nods. “Right.”

            The somber mood change leaves me feeling antsy and awkward. Despite my annoyances with her, I do in fact consider Kit a friend. Maybe even a little sister. I don’t like how her former family treats her after defecting to the Volturi for Demetri, but I also know better than to bring it up. Demetri is her rock, her comfort, not me. Quite frankly I don’t want to be either. Roseanna and her mood swings are more than enough.

            “I’ll send your regards,” I tell her. “Try not to destroy the castle while I’m gone.”

            Her lips quirk up in a dejected smile. “I’ll try. Good luck, Felix.”

Poison Ivy

            The contacts are irritating and make me want to claw my eyes out, but I resist the urge, and ignore the glares from Edward and Alice while mom chatters relentlessly at me. Phil and dad both give me pitiful looks, dad going to for as to switch my water with champagne while mom isn’t looking.

            “You’ve gotten so pretty since the last time I saw you,” mom says as she twirls a strand of my hair around her finger.

            “She’s always been pretty,” dad interjects. “You just forget between visits.”

            Mom pouts. “No, this is something else. Have you had work done, sweetie?”

            “Oh my god, mom!” I shove her hand away, careful to reign in my strength so I don’t actually hurt her and walk off to the other side of the table setup. I notice Mike Newton and his friend Eric eyeing me from their table and groan internally. I hadn’t meant to show up and cause a scene, but it was just one problem after another on the way here. I had to stop and feed I don’t even know how many times, surely leaving a pile of bodies in my wake. Then, I had to get a dress, but every shop I went to only seemed to carry the most expensive, ostentatious dresses imaginable. The one I managed to find was on the tamer side of things, but still way too much for a wedding in Forks of all places. With the split up the thigh and the off the shoulder sleeves and the color I’m sure to be a topic of gossip for a month minimum.

            Did you see Sherriff Swan’s daughter? No, the older one. In the red dress? At her own sister’s wedding of all things! And the glitter on it!

            But…

            At least I won’t be around for that.

            And dad will be okay. He only cares about gossip when it’s beneficial to work.

            I’m broken from my thoughts by Edward and Bella walking up to me. Bella gives me an awkward smile, but Edward is stone faced.

            “I heard Alice threw all this together,” I say. “She did a good job.”

            Bella nods. “Yeah, it’s nice.”

            “Mom’s speech was… something else.”

            She laughs and lets out a breath. “I wanted to die.”

            “I’m glad it happened to you and not me.”

            Edward scoffs. “I’m sure Felix isn’t the marrying type.”

            “Excuse me?” I feel white hot rage surge through my veins. Even with being locked in a fucking dungeon for months by the very man we’re talking about, I still feel protective. Of him. Of our bond. Of all of it.

            And the newborn mood swings aren’t helpful either.

            Bella looks up at Edward. “Not here. Not in front of everyone.” She gives me a pleading look, her doe eyes so familiar.

            “Lead the way,” I tell them.

            We walk a short distance into the trees, away from prying human eyes and ears. Maybe the other vampires in attendance can hear us, but I’m not worried about it. Let them.

            “Alice saw you,” Edward says as if that’s some damning accusation.

            “Oh, Alice saw me? Oh no! How horrible! Get the fuck off your high horse,” I tell him. “I’ve get no clue what you’re being so nasty about. I came here to watch my little sister get married, maybe hook up with a cute guy, and I’m gone. I’ve got more important things to do than worry about what you think of me, Cullen.”

            Bella shakes her head in confusion. “So you aren’t part of the Volturi? You aren’t with Felix?”

            “No and no.” The half lie tastes acrid in my mouth, but I swallow it down. “I’ll even beat the two of you to the punch: Felix did turn me into a vampire, but he locked me in a dungeon for months after. Does that sound like I’m beloved by him or any of the others?”

            I don’t bring up Anne (or even Kit who I barely know). It feels like a weird betrayal to mention either of them. I don’t take time to examine the feeling, pressing it down until it’s buried beneath my rage.

            “But my how poison ivy lies,” a deep voice rumbles in the trees.     

            Felix steps forward, anger evident on his face.

            Something inside me settles at his sudden appearance and all I can think about is slamming my lips against his.

            Bella looks briefly terrified. “Maybe now isn’t the best time to give you a surprise.”

            She glances up at Edward who grimaces.

            Felix ignores both of them. Eyes never straying from me. I see the lust flashing in them as he takes in the low cut of my dress and my exposed thigh.

Mars

"You thought you could get away, hmm?" I grip her waist, pulling her closer to my body. "Haven't you learned by now that we belong together? You're mine."

"Last I checked, Rosie was a person. Doesn't she get a say?" A tall man with brown skin steps into our little meeting area, nodding at Bella and Edward to leave.

They do so gratefully. Likely ready to warn the other vampires in attendance.

Roseanna's eyes widen and she shoves me away. "Paul? What are you doing here? I thought you and the Cullens..." She trails off thoughtfully, a smile growing on her face. "Never mind. It's nice to see you."

Paul observes Roseanna warily. "Yeah, you too, babe."

Babe?

Babe.

Oh.

I'll kill him.

Here and now, I'll fucking do it.

Roseanna moves as if to embrace him and I find myself wrapping a hand around her wrist to keep her in place. "Don't fucking touch him."

Paul scoffs at me. "Dude, I don't know who you think you are, but you must not know Rosie very well if-"

"Don't call her that." I shove my way between the two of them, more than happy to end this little reunion.

"Or what?"

"Or it will be the last thing you do."

Paul puffs his chest out. "Tough guy, huh? I bet you were some loser jacking off in his mom's basement before some vamp stuck his fangs in you."

"Watch how you speak to me, boy."

Roseanna groans behind me. "Oh my God, I attract the worst men. Stop it! Both of you! If you ruin my sister's wedding I'll never hear the end of it from my mom."

"Your human sister's wedding," I point out. Caius will not be happy when I report the news to Anne.

"You say that like I have anything to do with her species status."

Paul takes a step back and looks between the two of us. There must be more than one brain cell between his ears because he says, "Woah, are you two together or something?"

"Yes," I say.

"No," Roseanna says at the same time. She sighs, shoulders sagging. "It's complicated."

Complicated?

I don’t find it very complicated that we belong to one another fully and completely. I don’t find it complicated that I would burn the world to the ground if she ever thought of leaving my side. In fact, from where I stand, this Paul character is the only complicated thing.

I look down at Roseanna. “I don’t find it very complicated.”

“Can we not do this here-“

“You’re the one who ran off, my lovely poison ivy. You’re the one adding any sort of complications.” I drop a hand to her waist and pull her close, watching the way her throat bobs as she swallows. Her eyes darken with lust and I know I could take her right here if I wanted.

“Felix…” Roseanna tries to move my hand. “Not here. Not now.”

“Then where? When? If you keep running, I’ll simply keep chasing. How have you not learned your fucking lesson, you stupid, stupid girl?”

Paul emits a low growl that seems quite pathetic to me. “Don’t talk to her like that.”

Roseanna’s eyes snap to him and she bares her teeth. “Don’t forget your place in my life. You don’t get to play white knight after you fucking ditched me in a phone call for Jacob’s sister. My life isn’t yours to worry about anymore.”

“Well maybe if someone worried you wouldn’t be…” Paul gestures to her body and I find myself holding her tighter. “…that.”

Roseanna laughs humorlessly. “Say it, Paul. Say what I am.”

“A bloodsucker. One of them.” He inclines his head towards the Cullen family.

“Oh, Paul, I’m not one of them. I’m worse. And you and your little friends just made my shit list, so run and tell Sam about how evil and bad I am now. I’ll be sure to let the Cullens know the same.”

Paul scoffs. “You’ve always been a fucking bitch, Roseanna. Someone tries to help you and you bite their hand off. I should’ve dumped you sooner.”

He leaves after that and I watch him go, tugging at the bond between Roseanna and I to gauge her feelings. She’s distraught. Utterly and completely overwhelmed with despair.

“I can kill him,” I tell her.

Roseanna nods. “I know. But leave it. The party’s over and I’m leaving anyway.”

“I should kill him. No one should ever speak to you like that.”

A small snort escapes her. “Then you’d hate to know what my mother asked me.”

“Most likely. These people here don’t treat you well.”

“My dad is great.”

I look down at her as she moves through the trees to the edge of the driveway. Bella and Edward are making their departure, people cheering and clapping for the happy couple. Roseanna watches them sadly.

“I know I’ve done it to myself,” she says after a moment. “I’ve made all of them hate me.”

“No.”

She rolls her eyes and sighs, leaning against me as I approach her. It feels right to hold her in my arms. It feels like she belongs.

“I did. Felix, we both know what an abrasive asshole I can be. Of course I made them hate me. But… it’s okay, I think. It’s… a relief to know the only thing I have here is my dad, and I can keep him safest by staying away. As long as he’s okay, I’m okay.”

I consider her words while reminiscing on our first meeting. When we met I wanted nothing more than to break her, bend her to my will. It never occurred to me until now that she was broken long before we met.

[ervona]

I was tagged by @nuwanders @wispstalk @profanetools @ghoulsbeard @aphoticfairy whew!!! thank you :D

now tagging @scuttling-void @morgiah @trinimac @libertineangel @kagrenacs + anyone who wants to, tried to see who already did it!

this tag game is about writing excerpts and I'll be taking them from my tes fest 23 fics, since they're new and I like how they turned out

A line from your fic that makes you laugh

“You tell me, with the way you went up, I suppose you’re a trained acrobat.” At least he had put away the knife, though the suspicion was going to be a harder bargain, no thanks to his own conduct. “I am an ordinary mortal, so springy for I was born in springtime.” (Day 4)

I hadn't put grown up Tredayn to paper before so I hoped to deliver his personality, and a bit of his parents' memorable characteristics. being bad at hiding his intentions and hitting you with such a dumb line somewhat nervously is perfect. also since the brothers are from Morrowind they must carry the burden of the game mechanic jokes. the following line about his birthday isn't as funny to me, it's moreso where the comedic tension between them falls. it's sad at that point

A line from your fic that makes you sad

The sky would take on each color of bruise soon enough, and having had her meal of scrib jerky she could only sit in silence with the offerings, wringing her hands with faint scratches left on them until it was time to conduct the ritual, perhaps on her own. There was no sorrow in that, for it made her holy bond even more special. (Day 2)

I tend to write characters who are very social, but faced with bouts and longer periods of soul-draining loneliness... Aranea is relatively comfortable up on her mountain compared to them, still the story here is a deep well of loneliness surrounded by joy and celebration. Aranea is beloved by her community but she could not truly be part of it. she never had much of a community around her as a sorceress before becoming a priestess, and she literally sees herself as too far gone now and more suited to stay a hermit dedicated to only Azura

A line from your fic you're proud of

Ancient bones distorted as in a dream were stuck in the glacial gullet of Hsaarik; less ancient ones lay half-buried in the snowdrift. Deep below the lights of the city, falling prey to something sharp was far too easy, but the fog of breath held no fear. She took the hand offered to her aglow in purpureal light and her step became lighter still, they could skip across the water like stones. (Day 1)

my first published tesfest entry, my beloved. I'm very fond of this bit because I have trouble visualizing and describing things, but it's still very lush to me, it conjures up such a magical feeling and makes me happy. it simply conveys the warmth between them in the eerie cold

A line for your fic you think could have been better

The king was dead. He was not the first Nordic tyrant to burn, though he was one of the few living–or unliving–men to receive such a simplified Dunmeri funeral. His killer wasn’t quite living either, but one was ash scattered over the sea, and the other was just floating face-down among the ice floes; a twist on the usual Morndas. (Day 4)

the goal here was as usual double meaning because he was already un/dead before being killed and it's me messing with how language around vampires has been used in the series. so the killer is another vampire, a Dunmer, burning an already dead man... a simple funeral without anything else it should contain. it reads so awkwardly and I don't hate it as much anymore but I wish it was a bit more refined...

A line from your fic that makes you want to punch a character

She nibbled on a wickwheat biscuit as Uncle seemed to continue what he’d been talking about, his newly established netch ranch, the fine leather it brought, and she bit her tongue in frustration. Him and his blood-stained netch leather and the yoke that pulled lives and souls asunder.  (Day 7)

the secret sauce here that genuinely makes me angry was my own exasperation at many people around me. it just works like a charm!

A line from your fic that makes you go 'aww'

She hiccuped, and more than ever looked a mirror image of the bearling he found in the snow so long ago as if yesterday. A century could pass and she remained his baby, and he remained sworn to all ancestors and itinerant spirits to care for her. And she was shaking with worry, each tear reflecting a star. He wanted to cry with her too, even if it stained his spectacles. (Day 3)

beloved by readers, and so true. this whole story is full of moments that qualified so close here, so I picked out one. Llether is adorable, Merry even more so, and their relationship means so much to me :')

A line from your fic that's full of symbolism

Father ate rather delicately to not stain his bead-woven beard and mustache, and his younger brother followed the lead, though prior stabbing his cooked ornada without grace. The knife he sliced with, dueling the carapace, was as her cutlery gilt and engraved to go along with the ebony plating. Overhead the chandelier of green glass hung as a sword pointed at them, a thousand shimmering blades. (Day 7)

sword of dadmocles real. you have a sort of chain action going from Vedam to Orvas to Ilmeni and even as she doesn't describe her own eating habits, she is not perfectly self aware but she's also not right when portraying them in her mind as being in different worlds... the air of violence between them is at its highest in this moment though clearly restrained and some being less restrained than others. whew

A line from your fic that contains an Easter egg

She strode on the lookout for fish, drinking in the horizon that would at some point give way to the nascent sun.  In that direction, a once mighty craft cracked in twain on long since melted ice, since then picked clean by beasts and priests. They’d searched it up and down already, finding what they sought and the years had gone by until it was of little interest but a grim omen.  (Day 1)

they're north of Winterhold, east of it lies the Pride of Tel Vos which unfortunately was shipwrecked even in the au. I deliberated long on how to introduce Brand-Shei and whether to introduce Hidrya Olen. ended up going with neither, because I didn't get how and when she claimed the journal but she probably got on the ship to flee from the war. Brand-Shei is not identified beyond this and some clues at this point he's uncertain of himself on all terms. calling him by either of his known names didn't feel right for me, for him or for Merry here

A line from your fic that's shocking

One ought to know that a nix-hound was no match for a kagouti, such a spindly thing in comparison. But when a pack of nixes descended together, they could best the mightiest kagouti and leave nothing but bones. All creatures wished to survive, and some of them even wove secret arts through intricate magics to further lengthen their lives, but that didn’t necessarily keep them safe from harm. The tower would outlive its maker, and in turn make good use of him. (Day 5)

local mer harvested for his daedric armor. to be frank I find a lot of this tepid acceptance around Divayth Fyr to be annoying, and the insistence that nothing could have possibly killed him, so he's still alive. how about four of him unionizing against him, like it's hard... really the point of this story's introduction is for one to recognize a character with a big reputation then witness him casually killed off

A line from your fic you want to talk about more

“Hear me now, not because you are of my blood, but if it flows from out of a good heart,” she finally whispered back to him, not through the fire, through the very air itself. “Do not fear to wander, if your cause is just. Perhaps you could do right by what I gave my life for.” (Day 6)

Ervona Ules :) that's who I named myself after, I had adopted little Mavus at that point. the whole conversation between them is very telling of both characters but this refered to our primary source on Ervona, her student Melar Sadus. she was an interesting noble mer who fought against injustice and met a tragic end from it, Mavus is someone who may bring her legacy back. but will he? she definitely inspired him to grow beyond his comfort zone and listening to what his mother and mentor tell him. this is the heart of the prompt to me and I wanted to write it ever since I put Bound in a Bouquet out here, the older Mavus you see there is a product of the events in this story and of course Morrowind that happens in between. you'll see more...

[fierypen37]

Prompt: Dany meets Night Watch Jon.

A Dragon or Three

Once, as Mance Rayder bore down on the Wall with the greatest army the north had ever seen, Jon had wished for a dragon or three. Now he watched from atop the Wall as a black dragon descended from the clouds like a god. The wind ran its icy fingers through his hair, a few strands flying loose from its tie to whip in his eyes. He was afraid to blink and miss seeing a living dragon dive from the perfect blue of the sky. Gorgeous beast. The powerful stroke of wings as large as ship sails, gleaming black. Here and there the sun caught a crimson streak. He squinted. A pale speck on the beast’s back. Daenerys Stormborn herself.

“Lord Commander, what would you like me to say to the Queen’s man?” Satin’s sweet voice broke his trance. The awe raising his soaring heart crashed down to the mundanities of running a castle. Far below, it was a seething anthill. Men running to and fro in preparation for Daenerys, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and her entourage.

“About what, Satin?” Jon asked, clenching and unclenching his fist around Longclaw’s hilt. Satin raked a hand through his springy curls and gestured to the mess below. Far beyond, he could see the queen’s men approaching from the kingsroad.

“About . . . this! Where are we going to house and feed all these people?” Satin asked. A knife thin smile touched his lips.

“We’ll figure that out. Come, let’s go down. There is much to do,” Jon said. Together they entered the winch-drawn cage and began the long descent down. Jon craned his head to watch the dragon’s descent. From the tail of his eye, he watched Satin’s eyes widen in tandem as the dragon grew closer. Bigger than an aurouch. Bigger than a mammoth. Bigger than the giants he’d seen north of the Wall. The dragon roared. The sound rattled in Jon’s ears, made the fine hairs on his body stand on end. A savage smile touched his lips. Any who heard that sound would tremble. Perhaps even a dead army.

Once again on solid ground, Jon sent Satin scurrying off on half a dozen errands. He settled his black cloak around his shoulders, the fine sable fur tickling the side of his neck. In deference to royalty, he dressed in his finest blacks. It was her laugh that greeted him first. A bright burst of sound. She was smaller than he’d pictured, the crown of her head coming to his collarbone. Windblown braids and cheeks pinked with cold, the curve of her smile struck him straight in the gut. A sharp, golden-eyed look from one of her women prompted the introduction.

“Queen Daenerys Stormborn of the Seven Kingdoms, may I present the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, Jon Snow,” she said in a voice smoothed by some singing accent. Jon sank to one knee in the snow. He heard muted thuds as all of the brothers in earshot made their deference.

“The Wall is yours, Your Grace,” Jon said, charmed by the scuffed toes of her boots. Well-worn and oiled, it was obvious she preferred them to silk slippers. This one. This one could save them all—if she would only believe him.

“Rise, Jon Snow,” Daenerys said. Jon met her gaze, startled by how fucking beautiful she was. Too beautiful to be fully mortal.

“We have a feast prepared in the keep,” Jon said, offering his arm. Satin appeared at his elbow, breathless, and fell in with the queen’s entourage. A glance over his shoulder found among them squat man with black device on a grey-green field that he couldn’t place. A Reed? What was a Reed of Greywater Watch doing at the Wall? Queen Daenerys stole his attention by threading her arm through his elbow.

“We have much to discuss,” she said.       

[batrachised]

How do you feel about the Ford Family?

This question brought to mind the Conan plays video games series, where he rates each video game at the end by saying on a scale of 1 to 166 where 1 is average and 166 is average and 17 is really good, he'd give it a 44XXIV or some equally nonsensical rating. If A is for A plus, and F is for failure, I'd rate most of the Fords an E in that they exist.

Most especially, Owen Ford merely existed to me; his function in the plot was Leslie's new husband haha. Same with Kenneth. He had "captain of the football team in high school" vibes, and to be fair, that's who he was intended to be. Rilla was the popular girl who lives in a bubble only to get slammed with the reality of WWI. Persis always fascinated me because her name is really cool, but I don't think we ever really learn much about her either.

Leslie though...Leslie almost seemed like someone out of a noir film. The first description we get of her IS something out of a movie:

The girl was tall and wore a dress of pale blue print. She walked with a certain springiness of step and erectness of bearing. She and her geese came out of the gate at the foot of the hill as Anne and Gilbert passed. She stood with her hand on the fastening of the gate, and looked steadily at them, with an expression that hardly attained to interest, but did not descend to curiosity. It seemed to Anne, for a fleeting moment, that there was even a veiled hint of hostility in it. But it was the girl's beauty which made Anne give a little gasp—a beauty so marked that it must have attracted attention anywhere. She was hatless, but heavy braids of burnished hair, the hue of ripe wheat, were twisted about her head like a coronet; her eyes were blue and star-like; her figure, in its plain print gown, was magnificent; and her lips were as crimson as the bunch of blood-red poppies she wore at her belt.

Beautiful and hostile--that summarizes Leslie Ford. I've talked about her before, and my take on her is that she isn't a good friend, but she is a good character. Leslie Ford is hard to judge because she's like a skittish wounded animal in a trap who's willing to gnaw off its own leg to escape. She's rude to Anne, including the scene where she tells Anne that since Anne's baby died, now they can truly be friends (!!) even if the narrative presents it as acceptable. She is by far the most interesting member of the Ford family (although, to be fair, she also receives the most attention from the story). She's standoffish, hostile, cruel, and above all, heartbroken. Most of Leslie Ford's actions are explained by the fact that she is heartbroken. Not due to a lost love, like Miss Lavender, but due to traumatic events that would be impossible to forget--such as seeing her 8 year old brother be crushed by a wagon wheel.

To be honest, I always wished for another glimpse at Leslie's life after AHOD. I know we get snippets of her living her best life in Japan and so forth, but I wonder at the radical flip her life did in a matter of weeks. How could you react to something like that? After so many soul destroying things happen to you, would you be able to accept something good? What was that transition like for her? Did she wake up in the middle of the night years later, dully thinking she needed to check on Dick only to realize? I love LMM because of her happy endings, and I'm delighted Leslie got hers, but she's such a rich character that I kind of wanted more. I don't think the things that happened to her are the type you're able to forget, even if everything gets resolved. Personally I'd have trust issues for the rest of my life haha (Esp. after the twist with her husband, I would literally be doubting my entire world forever lmao). I also just realized she's Rilla's future mother in law, which is an interesting intersection of personalities.

So, to the point, most of them are decent but Leslie is a cut above the rest. Of all the characters in Anne, she probably has one of the darkest storylines, from watching her baby brother die a violent death to a coerced marriage. It's interesting to me that Kenneth doesn't seem to have been affected by his mother's traumatic background at all although we do get so little of his perspective, and it reminds me of the Blythe children appear not to know that Gilbert and Anne ever disliked each other or that Anne was neglected as a child (see: Di Blythe being shocked in Ingleside about Anne saying she was very hungry as a child, or TBAQ in which the kids are astonished at their parents referring to old spats).

[dreamerofasgard]

Hopes for The Thunderbird & The Dragon

Chapter 1 - House of Ambition

Year 1 Part 1/4 I will try to keep each year to 3-5 parts. Once again if you wish to be tagged leave me a comment or DM me.🐍

Warnings: First-year prick attitude Draco. (self-explanatory) First-year Pansy Parkison (I know some people don't like her) Blood status.

Word count: 1.8k

Prologue

After the grand tour of Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall, and Headmaster Dumbledore took your family and the four students to his office for a private sorting hat ceremony. You remembered that the first years normally got sorted on the first night in front of the entire school but due to you being a transfer, you got a private one.

“Now if Ms. Whitlock, if you would kindly take a seat we can get you sorted into your house,” Dumbledore said as he pulled up a chair for you to sit down. As you sit on the dark brown chair you see your mother take hold of your father's hand in excitement which makes you smile a bit as Professor McGonagall puts the Sorting Hat on your head.

" Ah, a transfer from our friends at Ilvermorny eh?" the sorting hat said as it took a moment to think, "You could be like your mother and make Ravenclaw proud you surely have the thirst for knowledge," it said as your mother smiled brightly at you along with Robert Hilliard the prefect for Ravenclaw "Or perhaps you would do best in Slytherin. Their cunning ambition to achieve great things knows no bounds." As the Sorting hat said this you thought it over, you were always an ambitious child and did help your cousins make a band despite their reluctance.

"Ah, I see. Slytherin!" the hat said as Professor McGonagall took the hat offer waving her wand to have your plain Hogwarts uniform transfigured into Slytherin robes. "Congratulations Ms. Whitlock," she said as Gemma Farley and your parents approached you as you stood up.

"I shall show you to our common room and help you get settled, that is if you'll allow Professors," she said looking at Dumbledore and McGonagall.

"I think that's a good idea, Ms. Farley. I believe we will have Ms. Whitlock rooming with Ms. Parkison and Ms. Greengrass" Dumbledore said as he dismissed the three boys from the other houses.

"I'm so proud of you sweetie," your parents said as they brought you in for a group hug before handing back your wand to you before following Gemma to the Slytherin Common room.

Your wand, thirteen inches, maple wood, phoenix feather core, slightly springy. Despite living most of your life in America your mother insisted on getting your wand from Ollivander's in Diagon Alley. When you first picked your wand from the box it made the room almost shake. Mr. Ollivander said that it was a sign of great potential and one's power that goes beyond the wand, whatever that meant you had no idea.

As you made your way to your common room Lux walked next to you careful not to bump into other students who were staring at you, the new kid. You weren't bothered that much by their stares after all you had just arrived during the second week of classes. As you continued onward on the Grand Staircase, Gemma came to a stop allowing other students to make their way to different classes when a girl your age wearing Slytherin robes walked up to her.

"Gemma, I was told by the Bloody Barron that Daph and I would be getting our third roommate today, do you know what time that will happen?" said the girl with a short brown haircut.

"Word does travel fast when you have ghosts in Hogwarts," said Gemma as she motioned for you to step forward, "This Is Y/n Whitlock a transfer student from Ivermorny. She just arrived a few hours ago and got sorted into our house. Please show her to your room while I fill in her parents on a few matters," she said before walking over to your parents.

"So you are the new girl," Pansy said as her eyes lit up, "my name is Pansy Parkison one of your roommates, a pleasure to meet you," she said as she reached out her hand to shake. After shaking hands Pansy led you down the last set of many stairs to the dungeons just outside the Slytherin common room.

"Has McGonagall or Gemma told you the password to get in?" Pansy asked curiously. "I don't think they did," you said trying to remember if McGonagall, Dumbledore, or Gemma said anything about a password.

"I thought so," said a disappointed Pansy as she before walking up to the wall and said "Thestral" Once the word was spoken a snake for the floor curved up and made an archway that revealed a door. "Welcome to your new home," Pansy said as she took your hand and walked carefully down the spiral staircase that oddly enough had a small water fountain at the bottom of it.

"Oh wow" was all you could manage to say as you looked at the Slytherin common room. The stonework was incredible and the windows looking out into the bottom of the Black Lake were gorgeous. The rugs all over the stone floor gave the cool interior a home feel as the fireplace and couches looked so welcoming. You walked further in and saw the skylights of stained glass on the ceiling before looking around more and seeing all the display cases, tapestries, and living portraits. The common room was full of greens and grays giving it a cold look but you didn't mind much. You were under the Black Lake so the structural integrity was more important than if the common room was extremely homie.

Pansy chuckled as she walked up beside you. "It's quite amazing isn't it?" she looks around the room with you as your eyes land on the statue of Salazar Slytherin. "That's one of the founders Sal-"

"Salazar Slytherin, known for his determination and ambitious nature. Valued keeping magic to pureblooded families and left Hogwarts after a disagreement with the other founders about muggle-borns" you said as you looked up at the statue as you recount the history McGonagall told you during the tour. "Sorry that I cut you off Pansy."

"No no, it's fine. I'm just surprised you know some of the history" she said as she took your hand again and started walking towards one of the dorms on the girls' side. "Well, Professor McGonagall did give a detailed history of the castle during the tour with my parents. This place is full of so much history and stories of past adventures, it would be a shame not to explore and learn its secrets" you said as you picked up Lux as Pansy opened the dorm to your dorm room.

"You do have a point, " Pansy says as she walks into the dorm room "Welcome to our room!" she says happily as a girl with Blonde hair looks up from her desk surprised. "Daphne say hello to our new roommate."

"You must be Y/n Whitlock. The Bloody Baron told us that you were most likely going to be rooming with us." Daphne said as she walked over to you. "I'm Daphne Greengrass, we will be in most of the same classes along with Pansy," she says as she shakes your free hand. "And who is this sweet one?"

"This is Lux, my mom gave me her before we left," you say as Lux mews cutely as all three of you smile at the kneazle.

"I believe we should help get you unpacked," said Gemma from the doorway with your trunks and owl as she smiled at the sight of the three girls getting along.

*about 15-30 minutes later*

"I believe that's all of it," you say as you take your owl Ripley out of her cage to let her walk around the room a bit before dinner.

"So what is all this muggle stuff, I thought you were a pureblood," Pansy asked as she went through your stack of records both confused and curious.

"Well, my family has a deep love of music and that extends to the no-mugis aka muggles' music. We are a pureblood family though in America we try to see the no-magis or muggles as just people. My family does know the inherent "value" of blood purity but when it comes to certain things like music" you say as you get up and start flipping through your vinyls.

"I guess when you come from America the stance on muggles is different. My parents, however," Pansy says as she picks up an album by The Rolling Stones, "Don't care for anything Muggle-related, Can we put this one on?" she says holding the record out to you.

"Oh this is a good one and one of my father's favorites," you say putting the record on and adjusting the volume so it's not too loud. Daphne smiled softly as the room was filled with music she never heard before.

After an hour or two of sharing your favorite albums with the girls, it was just about time for dinner. As the three of you made your way to the Great Hall you let Ripley find her way to the Owlery by following the other owls flying overhead. As you made your way into the Great Hall you followed Pansy and Daphne and sat down with four other boys.

“And who are you I don’t remember you from the sorting ceremony,” said the blonde boy with grey eyes as he looked at you confused why you were sitting with his friends.

“I’m Y/n Whitlock, I just transferred from Ilvermorny and got sorted this morning. And you are,” you say as you look at the blonde as well as the three other boys.

“Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. These two are Crabbe and Goyle,” the two boys boys across from him nodded as Draco continued, “The quite one is Blaise Zabini” as Blaise looked up and smiled softly at you. “So Whitlock are you by chance related to Frederick Whitlock the new Chief Auror?” He said as he sounded a little excited. Everyone looked at you waiting for your response as being a pureblood meant that your family had wealth and some sway in the ministry but having your parents in important positions meant if anyone messed with you there would be consequences.

“That’s my dad yeah, he just got the promotion last week as well as my mum becoming the Head of the Department for the Control of Magical Creatures,” you said as you started to put some food on your plate as you smiled proudly at your parents’ achievements.

“My father was telling me about you folks, apparently your father is one of the best Aurors since Aesop Sharp and Theseus Scamander. Your father will be giving Mad Eye Moody some competition,” Draco said as the tone shifted from slightly uncomfortable to welcoming, “And your mum is practically set up to be the next Newt Scamander my father heard.”

“That’s my parents for ya. Always dreaming big and aiming for the stars,” you smiled before you started eating as the rest of dinner the group filled you in on what you missed the first week of classes as well as telling you about the Gryffindor trio that was the bane of Draco’s existence.

[severussnapedamagedlove]

Dinner and Diatribes - Feyd Story Update

Free the Animal is updated with another sparking chapter called Dinner and Diatribes after the beloved Hozier song.

Please read my newest chapter!

Below will be a sneak peak ;)

A formal meal was announced later that day. I’d been lounging around after being measured for new garments when the message came through.  It addressed me directly. I was given instructions to dress formal.

As royal consort, decorum is paramount. As is your attendance.

Oh was it?

Was I a slave bent to his will?

Well, yes, but he’d made me a lady. A lady of House Harkonnen. I did not have to do as a mere slip of paper demanded.

When Vishti arrived later to help me dress, I sent them away.

They did not like it.

“No, my lady. Na-Barons will be very angry.”

“If I am a lady, I’ll start acting like one,” I declared. “Now go. Don’t be here when he comes looking. He’ll kill you.”

They held the pink robe dress meant for the dinner. “It is easy. Not take long.” Dark wrinkled hands ran along the front. “So pretty.”

“Vishti, leave. Now”

There was dismay in their eyes, but they bowed in their exit.

I was done with the whole charade! He won. The punishment was too much for me to withstand.

His game was won. I showed my limit, the limit he tried so hard to find. Now it was time for it to end.

Either my attendance does not matter so it is forgotten about, or he can release me from this prison as he wished.

But I was not an animal to be paraded around his hoity advisers and nobility as if some amusement for their entertainment. Dressed up in their garments as if I was a monster, same skin as they. It was an insult to who I was. It insulted every piece inside me.

Feyd was welcome to kill me now. I was not attending his pathetic pandering party.

I waited. Patiently.

Well, as patiently as I could pretend to be.

The time it took for the dinner to start was agony. It was wasted. My life could have ended and spared me the torture of the wait. Everything was torture. This planet, this place, this na-Baron.

If only I had been picked for slaughter as the other survivors had. I waited and waited. One by one, they were picked for demise while I remained trapped inside a prison. I listened to their screams. I heard the deaths in all squishy foul sounds they made.

One I saw with my very own eyes.

It was the last prisoner housed in the cell with me. A young mechanic, about fifteen or so. He had springy black curls with a pair of sharp grey eyes. We huddled together in those cold, dirty dungeons. The meager portions we were given split between us, evenly. I once vomited my portion, and he gave me his.

I’d not known him on the planet. Only in imprisonment had we met, but he became all I had at a time where I valued connections.

I lost him last of all. Before I was left alone to withstand the torture of wait in those dank dungeons.

The red river that ran from below the cell door that day still haunts me. I see it, some nights, in dreams.

Guards took him in the night. I’d tried to push them off, but they knocked me back. It was so hard that my vision went dark a moment and my head throbbed.

His sudden scream - the moment the door closed. It is etched in my mind.

I relive it - moments when I feel weak and weary. I remember what it means to die under Harkonnen rule.

Why I was forced to live with the names of fourteen people now deceased while I carried on with the memory of their brutal deaths fueled me forward in my mission. I was the last. Death was meant to me. Too soon, just the same as the ones who were stolen, killed for selfish reasons, or no reason at all.

A roar boomed down the hall. Thundering boots descended.

The doors of my chamber were wretched back so hard they hit the walls behind them. 

Feyd stormed into the room. “You’re late.”

“I’m not going,” I said flatly

“I do not dine without my full house and my full house has a lady.”

“I’m not a real lady! None of this is real. I am a liar, a fake. This punishment has bested me. I lose. I am punished. I give up.” “Punishment?” Feyd spat. “You do not know the meaning of the word punishment!” He screamed it now. The very room filled with darkness. Glasses rattled. Impending violence surged through the air. Just as I wanted.