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philodendronleaves · 10 months

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Cordyline fruticosa

The Cordyline fruticosa plants are most beautiful eye-catching evergreen perennial plants with broad leaves. Plant foliage varies in different colors such as red, pink, yellow, white & other streaks.

Good Luck plant

These cordyline fruticosa plants are commonly called Hawaiian ti plant, good luck plant, ti plant, palm lily, cabbage palm, and miracle plant belonging to Asparagaceae. This plant is often believed to bring good luck to the home.

Hawaiian ti plant

This cordyline plant variety prized & beloved especially for its colorful, long-lasting foliage with attractive stripes. The name Hawaiian ti plant name due to the reason that this croton plant believed to bring positiveness, creation, and blessing during those times in Hawaiian culture.

Ti- plant Varieties

This croton plant variety range from about 100+ plants. Among those the most popular varieties such as Cordyline congesta, cordyline rumba, cordyline kiwi, black magic, australis purpurea, Lemon-lime, miss andrea, red Ruby, celestial queen, & Hybrid ti.

Cordyline congesta

This croton plant variety has attractive dark-colored foliage with smooth, glossy broad leaves. It is fast growing plant with a woody stem.

Benefits

The placement of ti -plant croton plant is believed to bring good luck, peace and positivity to home.

Cordyline Ti plants are pests & diseases resistant plants.

The most beautiful feature of this plant is the colorful foliage & air-purifier.

Cordyline fruticosa-ti plant crotons

Blog Completed By: Santhionlineplants

#t is fast growing plant with a woody stem.#ti plant congesta #Cordyline rumba #The most attractive ornamental plant grows like dracaena plants with wide long leaves. The foliage color seems to be dark green with pink s #croton plant #Andrea #This Hawaiian ti plant has a wide range of creamy yellow stripes which make the environment look eye-catching. This ti plant placement can #hawaiian ti plant #Care & Maintenance #Soil #This cordyline ti plant loves to grow in a wide range of fertile soil preferably acidic pH. Soil may be sandy loam #clay #or coco peat potting mix.#soil #Watering #This good luck plant requires regular intervals of watering during the summer season. Minimize watering the cordyline plants during the win #watering for ti plant #Sunlight #Sunlight requirement for this variety is direct sunlight of 4-5 hours with partial shade. Too much light may fade some variegated cordyline #sunlight #Propagation #This croton variety propagated through the methods such as Tip cuttings #Stem cuttings & Air-layering.#Tip Cuttings #From mature plants take the tip cuttings. Take tip cuttings from 3-4 cm of the plant. And plant the cutting in potting mix or soil.#Stem Cuttings #Take 3-4’ cuttings from the matured plant just below the node of the plant and place the plant in the prepared potting mix.#stem cuttings #Placement #The placement of this plant in both indoor & outdoor environments.

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philodendronplant · 10 months

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Cordyline fruticosa

The Cordyline fruticosa plants are most beautiful eye-catching evergreen perennial plants with broad leaves. Plant foliage varies in different colors such as red, pink, yellow, white & other streaks.

Good Luck plant

Hawaiian ti plant

Ti- plant Varieties

Cordyline congesta

This croton plant variety has attractive dark-colored foliage with smooth, glossy broad leaves. It is fast growing plant with a woody stem

Fertilizer

Application of any organic fertilizer or well-decomposed manure around the plants helps to grow this croton plant bushy clump & wide in appearance.

Benefits

The placement of ti -plant croton plant is believed to bring good luck, peace and positivity to home.

Cordyline Ti plants are pests & diseases resistant plants.

The most beautiful feature of this plant is the colorful foliage & air-purifier.

#Cordyline congesta #This croton plant variety has attractive dark-colored foliage with smooth #glossy broad leaves. It is fast growing plant with a woody stem.#ti plant congesta #Cordyline rumba #The most attractive ornamental plant grows like dracaena plants with wide long leaves. The foliage color seems to be dark green with pink s #croton plant #Andrea #This Hawaiian ti plant has a wide range of creamy yellow stripes which make the environment look eye-catching. This ti plant placement can #hawaiian ti plant #Care & Maintenance #Soil #This cordyline ti plant loves to grow in a wide range of fertile soil preferably acidic pH. Soil may be sandy loam #clay #or coco peat potting mix.#soil #Watering #This good luck plant requires regular intervals of watering during the summer season. Minimize watering the cordyline plants during the win #watering for ti plant #Sunlight #Sunlight requirement for this variety is direct sunlight of 4-5 hours with partial shade. Too much light may fade some variegated cordyline #sunlight #Propagation #This croton variety propagated through the methods such as Tip cuttings #Stem cuttings & Air-layering.#Tip Cuttings #From mature plants take the tip cuttings. Take tip cuttings from 3-4 cm of the plant. And plant the cutting in potting mix or soil.#Stem Cuttings #Take 3-4’ cuttings from the matured plant just below the node of the plant and place the plant in the prepared potting mix.#stem cuttings

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yeyinde · 1 year

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WICKER PYRE | Dragon!Price x Reader

All things considered, you should have expected it. You know better than to make deals with dragons.

WARNINGS: 18+ | light smut—no descriptions of anatomy used for the reader; possessive undertones; dragon trickery; blink and you'll miss it Celtic Dragon mythology and folklore WORD COUNT: 1,5K NOTES: They tempted me with hellfire and pretty imagery, so. Here we are.

It smells of biochar, pyrolysis. The incendiary heat sparks to life around you; a thick, impenetrable wall of stifling warmth, and you blink through the haze, the heat mirage, that swims in front of your eyes, trying to clear the clouds from your vision.

It's hot.

Hellfire. Inferno. Absolute.

Paradoxically, it edges into dry heat—wildfires: burning forests, charred logs, crumbling charcoal, ashes—but your skin is drenched in sweat; sticky, tacky. Hot springs. Lavascape.

You're drowning in Phlegethon, hands clawing at molten skin to stay afloat.

"Shush, shush—"

It's a wheezing rasp. A rumble that rebounds against the carverous, limestone walls and echoes in your ears. The vibrations of it rattle through your chest and dislodge the panic from between your ribs.

"Easy, now."

Despite the smoked-cured softness of the voice above you, around you, in you, it booms through your marrow; the sudden shift of the plates. A tectonic shockwave that bludgeons into you.

"Can't—" you start, words a desperate, aching whine. "Can't—John—it's so hot—!"

His answer is a grunt; a rolling, monstrous sound that shivers across your skin. It's easy, with his front pressed against your back, his words hissed into your crown, to forget that he isn't a man. That his body is made of the valleys: carved from chiselled andesite, graphite, and limestone. Coursing through his veins is ichor and brimstone, fed from the burning pyre inside his chest that blooms tuffs of smoke, and reeks of ash.

He quiets you with another low pur, and feeds the tips of his steel claws into your flesh, anchoring you tight to his body.

And then you hear the fire-painted voice speak from between his nicotine fangs: "I know."

And you suppose he would.

Molten blood. Igneous skin. His voice is Pyroclastic: tephra falling from his heaving chest.

With the exception of his pointed, angular claws, his hands almost look human. Almost.

But when they grip your hips tight, the skin of his palms feels too thick. Too velveteen. Like the soft underbelly of a reptile.

Those claws hold you steady as he slides the full, burning length of himself into you. The blunt press of his cock splitting you apart, and the rasp of his knuckles, rough with blackened osteoderms protruding from his thick skin, makes you shiver. It feels like sandpaper when it prickles over your flesh.

You try to gasp but the oxygen in the room is swallowed by the flames. Try to move but his weight on your body is a plutonic ash bed. A prison.

Jewels and gems nip at your skin when you ramble to find purchase on the treasure trove of his nest, to find something to hold onto while your body is slowly consumed by the unrelenting heat of him stretching you into a shape you do not recognise.

"Tryna run?" He mocks. "Thought you could handle it, mm? Wasn't that our deal? Do you know what happens to little humans who try to break their promises?"

You want to bite back something scathing, something dripping in venom and cruelty, but the words are ground into peat salt when he presses the full weight of himself onto you, using the momentum to snap his hips harder, faster, than he was before.

(You swear, swear, you feel the white-hot tip of him digging harshly into your sternum.)

But he's merciful—to a degree—and his hand lifts, drops in front of your nose, claws gleaming in the flames that surround his den, his prison, his home.

You take in the sight of his heat-scorched skin—a chromosphere of living magma: blistering red dusted with fine ash. It's pretty. Stunning. You're mesmerised by the ripples of fire running in thick rivulets beneath his carbonised pelt, and you know, then, why he's so sought after. Respected. Feared.

(Who would try and run afoul around a man, a being, a beast, who has hellfire burning in his veins?)

The brief respite splinters when he shifts forward, pushing himself as deep into your body as he can possibly go, and the world around you lists sharply on its axis when he pulses, branding you from the inside out, turning your body into a magma chamber that only fits him—

You can't breathe—haven't been able to since you rocked up to the smouldering cavern on the side of a mountain, and demanded he make a deal with you. It's hard to acclimate to the carbon-rich air that thrums around you like a thick curtain of plasma, threatening to consume you whole.

"Easy, now, pretty thing," he purrs again and the deep rumble that spills from his expansive chest seems to glue to each bone in your body, reverberating deep within your liquifying marrow.

His elbow falls, chin presses into your crown. He breathes you in, and the world around you shudders, and ripples like the glimmering sea of a heat haze. An optical illusion. A mirage. But one that flexes around you like water; moulding to your body, and filling in all the crevasses and canyons until the plasmic air clings to your skin.

Smoke billows with his exhale. You scent charred tobacco leaves, brimstone, crushed granite, and burning rock—sharp and acrid. The smell sticks to the back of your throat and colours your lungs in a fine layer of rock dust.

The world around you shakes when he growls into your crown, nose pressed tight to your sweat-slicked skin.

It feels like an earthquake rattling inside of you, shaking loose the paper-thin threads of sanity that keep you still beneath his bulk.

"Ah, John—"

His forearm slides closer to your gasping mouth, and you scent guncotton on his skin. Thick. Heady. It makes your head swim, and a fever bloom in your veins.

"There," he huffs into your hair, and the plume of his voice heats the world around you by several degrees. "Now you have something to hold on to, love."

His voice is pinched with something that sounds mockingly cruel, mordant, but there's a softness in the way he holds you close; a tenderness that biles the roughness of his hands, the sharp drag of his claws against your flesh.

"Now," he continues, hand tightening on your skin hard enough to bruise your tremulous bones. "Be good, and let me fuck you."

With that, he snaps forward until he's once buried to the hilt. Fangs prickle across your shoulder blade when he lowers his maw to your skin. Each heavy exhale through his nose leaves a scorching mark over your flesh until it's blistered and raw.

He sets a brutal pace, and each time he sinks in deep, you feel something inside of you splinter, break. It's unlike anything, anything, you'd ever felt before—a liquid pleasure and pain that melts together into burning heat. It feels like euphoria and punishment in the same breath: an equilibrium of salvation and condemnation.

Each growl that leaves his heaving chest shakes the cobwebs from between your ribs, and fills them with ash and smoke. It seeps into your bloodstream, poisoning you with each harsh stroke.

(You forgot that he was poisonous—)

But it's too late.

Lost in the delirious cloud of heat, ozone, and John, all you can do is wrap your tiny hands around the thick of his forearm, nails barely leaving a mark on his thick pelt, and cling to him as he takes what you offered with greedy claws, and gluttonous eyes, pounding you into his bed of furs, and stolen gems and gold. Treasure toppled to the ceiling of the cavern they warned you to stay away from. The precious clutch of a monster who protects his wares with fire and madness. Raining wrath and fury, white-hot rage and red-hot desperation, down on anyone who dares to get close.

It's too much, too much, but you knew what you were getting into when you tried to barter with him.

("Let's make a deal—"

And he'd said, "you must be desperate. Don't you know what I am—"

His noctilucent eyes burned in the dark.

Mocking. Cruel. Hungry.)

All you can do now is hope, somehow, that you make out in a single piece. That all your vibrating atoms stay whole; intact. That you don't lose yourself inside the madness of heat, and burning fire.

That you'll make it out, alive.

—if, of course, he lets you go—

But those hopes are dashed when his molten tongue flickers out, laving a burning path across your neck.

"You'll look so good in all my gold," he snarls, a thundershock right into your core.

And then he sinks his fangs into your neck.

You should have known from the start when he looked at you with hunger, rapacious greed in his keen, sharp eyes that you were not leaving his den again.

(The most precious piece in his hoard.)

Your body is a wicker pyre made to be burned. From the charred ashes, something new will rise. A phoenix trapped in the paws of a beast who likes pretty, shiny things, and will never let go.

(And really, what else did you expect when you decided to tempt a dragon?)

#captain price x reader #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #i hate tagging stuff #ughhhhhh #dragon!Price #COD Monster AU #john price #captain john price #captain price

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harryssyndrome · 1 month

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From The Set 🎬 (pt.1)

Pairing: Timothée Chalamet x Reader

Faceclaim: Selena Gomez

A/N: for this social media au story, the movie release year has changed. Instead of 2020, it’s 2018. All the other mentioned events took place after it.

liked by yourmumsusername, tchalamet, florencepugh, taylorswift and 675,486,271 others

yourname so excited for y’all to finally see it! We had a lot of fun making it! 🗽

Tagged tchalamet

View all 693,283 comments

ynismybae finally!! 😮‍💨 I’ve been waiting for this for so long.

yourmumsusername so proud of you my babygirl 💜

tchalamet the fun begins with you

⤷ let’s meet in the middle. We look like fun when we’re together🤭

taylorswift so proud of you y/n/n! thx tchalamet for making my bestie smile.

florencepugh letssss goooo 💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻

chalametism this scene!!!💋💋

username omg Tay Tay commented 🥹

⤷ the supportive besties. My favvvv

username shipping their friendship 🫶🏻

liked by pauline.chalamet, yourname, florencepugh and 921,754,286 others

tchalamet A Rainy Day in New York is out in cinemas <3

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chalametism the emphasis on this scene 🤭

chalamet_world am I the only one thinking they are flirting?

(liked by 63 others)

pauline.chalamet you were so good yourname 👏🏻

⤷ don’t you think you’re forgetting someone? pauline.chalamet

yourname thank you so much 🫶🏻

(liked by pauline.chalamet, tchalamet)

pauline.chalamet uhhh I don’t think so 🧐

⤷ seriously? Oh let me do the honors and remind you, the male protagonist?

⤷ idk what you’re talking about. I didn’t notice anyone else. 👀 reserved for yourname

⤷ I hate you pauline💔 tho I can agree on one thing - my eyes are too reserved for yourname

(liked by yourname)

yourname 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 pauline.chalamet

florencepugh MY GURLLLL! 💗

username timmy IS flirting indeed🫣

username the Chalamet siblings. 😂

liked by taylorswift, tchalamet, pauline.chalamet, gigihadid, zendaya, jbalvin and 573,592,626 others

yourname “I can’t get enough” is now streaming on all the streaming platforms!!! ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ thx jbalvin , tainy and itsbennyblanco for having me on board🫶🏻

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tchalamet I can’t get enough of your love 💗

chalametism here we go again with the flirting!

Timhalchal I ship them already 😍

chaalamets me too but they aren’t dating are they?😩

taylorswift it’s on repeat-peat-peat-peat!🥰

Zendaya LOVE IT 😍

⤷ love you girls sm🤍 zendaya 🫶🏻 taylorswift

tchalamet what about me?🥺

yourname love you 3000 pauline.chalamet 💗

(liked by pauline.chalamet)

pauline.chalamet ilyt 😘 p.s. please reply to my baby brother because I can’t tolerate his cranky face😒 loved it when u ignored him tho. #donttellhim 🤫

tchalamet I hate you both.

⤷ you love us Timothée chalamet stop being a baby🙄

ynandtimmy please date each other already 🙏🏻

Username I live for this interactions lol

Username was he really making cranky face?

Username idk bro 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

liked by 4,683,855 other

E!new Fans are heartbroken as heartthrob actor Timothée Chalamet has found himself a match. We wonder who the unknown girl is?

The fans are speculating that this unknown lover could be singer/ songwriter and actress y/n y/l/n. The co-stars are being found flirting and having playful interaction in the comments of their recent post.

Tagged tchalamet, yourname

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Username damn right, i was broke but now im also heartbroken 😭

Username i think it’s them

Chalametism the “YNTimmy” era begins😌

Username they are so cute together

Username what if they are just friends?

Username3 Alexa play “That should Be Me” by JB 🥺

⤷ but it’s not confirmed.

⤷ either way he’s not mine so… yeah *sobbing* 🥲

liked by username, username and other 2,683 others

ynexpress_ YN VIA INSTAGRAM STORY!! - “Throwback”

do you think yourname is hinting something 🤔

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ynsbaby i think she will be performing her new single!

chalametism could Timmy come to Coachella to support her?

Username did she invite him?

Username this could be pr 🙄

⤷ TREAT PEOPLE WITH KINDNESS OR ELSE!

⤷ Will kill y’all haters with kindness

Username the haters gonna hate, hate, hate😩

⤷ Y/N just shake it off queen!!!😌

(liked by 104 others)

halchalamet only the true fans will support them no matter what 🤍

(liked by 874 others)

Location: Coachella

liked by timhalchal, timmylaurie, username, username and 5,076 others

chalametism MY MAN IS SPOTTED!!! 🚨 oh boy he looks so good 🥰

Tagged tchalamet

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littletimmyytim I can’t believe I am standing in the same floor as him. So stoked!!!!

Username who does he look up close

⤷ even more beautiful ☀️

timidicted omg he’s swaying to the beats

Username his cap says “just friends?” 😱😱😱

⤷ NO WAAAAYYYYYY🤯

⤷ He’s playing with us!!! Wear your clown noses people 😤

(liked by 43 others)

⤷ He’s teasing something from the article?

liked by ynandtimmy, chalametism, ynsbaby, username, username, timotheeandall and 7,502 others

cantgetenoughofyn YN ON THE STAGE!!! Ahhhh! We clowned right now Let’s Taki Taki!!!💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻

Tagged yourname, tchalamet

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chalametism Timmy was hyping since the moment she surprised the fans on stage!! 😳

ynandtimmy some people around him reported that he shouted “THATS MY GIRL!” as yourname joined on stage!!!!!��🤯

username “just friends” my foot. I won’t be fooled again.

⤷ and he is wearing “Just Friends?” Cap!

Username just say the word that they are dating 🥺

timmyytim he’s here to support her!! He’s going to be an amazing boyfriend 🤭

Username so can I finally ship them???

Username3 Alexa play ‘Jealousy, Jealousy’ by Olivia Rodrigo

⤷ you again?

⤷ yeah, with a diff song 🫥

liked by ynexpress_, timmylaurie, chalametism, ynandtimmy, florencepugh, yourchildhoodfriend and 6,088 others

e!news So is it safe to say It’s confirmed? ‘The King’ star is spotted kissing singer & actress y/n y/l/n at Coachella after her performance. Link in bio for more.

Tagged tchalamet, yourname

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chalametism I KNEW IT!!!!

Username how can you know it’s them? The face is blur

⤷ SON JUST DON’T *captain America voice*😤

yourchildhoodfriend is this how I am supposed to get to know my childhood bffs love story 🤷🏻‍♀️ yourname girl is this how you keep your friendship?😂

⤷ not yourchildhoodfriend commenting like a fan. She didn’t even knew 😂😂😂

ynexpress_ the IT couple 😘

ynandtimmy they are so cute!! I just saw a fan taken video of yourname running towards Timmy and when he saw her in view, he welcomed her in his embrace. He was smiling like a idiot 𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི

Username okayyyy I don’t need to ask anyone of you. I SHIP THEM 🫶🏻🫶🏻

Username3 Alexa play ‘jealousy, jealousy’ by Olivia Rodrigo

⤷ you here again?

⤷ yeah with the same song besides no one has blocked me yet 😩

taytayynn I think she knew it all too well!!

Username so happy for them🤍

Username did you guys notice that florencepugh liked this post 🤯🤯

Username now what would they do??? Reveal themselves?

⤷ Idk maybe it’s a love story baby just say “yes” would be nice 😊

A/N: thank you for reading this au!! I hope you guys enjoyed. It’s been a long long time since I posted one of these but I’m super happy with it!

It’s going to be a multi-part social media au so stay tuned for the upcoming parts!

Likes and reblog are appreciated 💗

Tag-list and requests for open 💌

#timothee chalamet x you #timothee chalamet social media #social media #timothee chalamet social media au #timothée chalamet #timothee x you #timothee x reader #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet imagines #timotheechalamet #timothée chalamet fic #timothée chamalet

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azzibuckets · 15 days

Text

For the Love of the Game [Pazzi | Part 3/10]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: paige and azzi find themselves in a very sticky situation, with only one way to get out

a/n: none of this stuff is accurate to the time line in real life but who cares

word count: 1.4k

masterlist w/ all parts

“Two weeks in and you’re already causing problems.”

Azzi shrunk under the critical stare of Geno Auriemma. Although Geno was a physically stout man whom she would’ve towered over had they been standing, he was still extremely formidable in his legacy as a basketball coach. This was the seven-peat titled NCAA coach of the year, who’d guided UConn to eleven nattys and USA to three olympic gold medals, and he was glaring at her.

“I’m sorry, sir, but-,”

“And you,” Geno interrupted, fixing his reproachful frown on Paige. “You’re going to be captain this year, and this is how you lead the team?” The blonde shifted uncomfortably in her seat, glancing haughtily at Azzi. “Frankly, I’m very disappointed in you. The fact that multiple of your teammates had to inform me about your behavior is very concerning.” Paige hunched her shoulders and stared at her feet, looking like a puppy who’d gotten kicked to the side of the road.

Geno focused his attention back on Azzi. “Cursing at your teammates? You signed the player contract, Fudd. We don’t tolerate foul language or bullying of any kind. Do you know what the punishment is?”

Azzi’s mouth went dry. “I don’t know, sir, but I promise I can explain.”

Geno’s eyebrows dipped down, and his mouth was pulled into a firm line. “The punishment is suspension from all non-NCAA pre-season team activities. This includes next month’s tour in Europe, since we’re only playing exhibition games.”

Everything went blank. Azzi’s heart raced, disbelief coursing through her veins. She’d only been at Storrs for two weeks, and she was about to get kicked out of the European tour that she had been looking forward to so much. What would this mean for her? She’d miss out on team bonding, and even more importantly, wouldn’t be able to debut for UConn with the other freshmen. She’d be behind, and all her teammates would hate her, and the sports news outlets would go crazy with gossip over her suspension and-

Paige’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts. “Geno,” she said solemnly, “I have to tell you something.”

Azzi gaped at the blonde. Was Paige about to play the hero by admitting that she was the one who had started all the arguments?

“Azzi and I are dating.”

Okay, that was very much NOT what she had been expecting to come out of Paige’s mouth. She shifted in her seat, about to speak out in horror because the mere thought of dating Paige made her want to throw up, when she felt the other girl lay a palm on her knee.

Geno looked between the two of them, surprise evident in his eyes. “You two? Dating?”

“Yeah,” Paige shrugged. “We uh, wanted to keep it on the down low. So that we wouldn’t distract the team. So we decided to act like we didn’t like each other, but we might’ve taken it a little too far.” Paige chuckled, and Azzi had to restrain from rolling her eyes. Even she could tell that Paige’s laugh was forced.

Geno opened his mouth to respond when his phone rang. He looked down and grunted. “Give me one second,” he said before picking up the phone and slipping out of the room.

As soon as the door closed, Azzi swatted Paige’s hand that was still on her lap. “What the hell was that?” She hissed. “I don’t know what kinda weird kinky stuff you’re into, but dragging me into this is not cool.”

Paige’s eyes narrowed. “Just trust me, okay? I might be an asshole, but not enough to get you kicked off our trip to Europe. Just follow my lead.”

Azzi was about to protest, not understanding how telling Geno they were dating could save her ass, but he stepped back in before she could. Paige squinted at her, as if to make sure she was in on the plan. Azzi was completely and utterly confused. But she didn’t know what else to do, and she really wanted to go to Europe. So she decided to go along with Paige’s schemes, at least for now.

Their coach interlaced his fingers, resting his chin on them. “So what you’re telling me is that you two are in a relationship? A romantic relationship?”

Paige nodded, a little bit too enthusiastically, before taking Azzi’s hand in hers. She tried not think about how soft and warm Azzi’s hands were. “Yeah. I promise you that Azzi didn’t mean anything. She just gets a little bit too into her role sometimes, you know?” Paige smiled fondly at her, and it seemed so genuine that Azzi herself was almost convinced that they were dating.

“I promise, though, that there’s no bad blood between us. None at all.” She squeezed Azzi’s hand, signaling that it was her turn to shine.

“For sure!” Azzi’s voice came out high pitched and squeaky. Feeling Paige’s hard side eye, she cleared her throat and tried again. “There’s nothing but love here. Right, sweet cheeks?”

Paige winced, and Azzi realized that that might not have been as smooth as she’d thought. But the blonde forced back a smile, coming to her rescue. “Geno,” she said pleadingly. “Do you have to suspend Azzi?”

Geno took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes with a sigh. “I’m having a hard time believing that you two are dating.” Both girls nervously waited with their breaths bated. “But,” he continued, “since you guys apparently are, I now have a request for you. My daughter Paula is doing a little video series on the team this year as part of her assignment for her film class. She’s been wondering how to approach the personal life segment, but now you two just opened a wonderful opportunity for her!”

Paige and Azzi exchanged looks. This was not what they thought they were getting themselves into.

“If you could help Paula with her assignment, by you know, showing the dynamic between you two and how that can translate to chemistry on the court,” Geno paused, studying them over the rim of his glasses, “I could possibly see about giving Azzi a lighter punishment. Like cleanup after practices. Nothing as severe as suspension from the Europe tour.”

“Send Paula our numbers,” Paige said immediately.

Geno’s face brightened, and he looked at them with a pleased smile. “Great! I expect both of you to keep your relationship professional during practices and games, but other than that, you have no objections from me.” He sat back in his chair with his arms crossed. “Have a good day, girls,” he dismissed.

The two basketball players hurried to leave. Once outside and walking down the corridor, Paige turned to Azzi. “Sweet cheeks, really?”

Azzi blushed furiously. “Stop,” she complained. “I didn’t know what else to say.”

“Okay, honey buns,” Paige smirked, elbowing her gently in the side.

They fell into silence as they walked. “So what do we do now?” Azzi finally asked. “Pretend to date?”

The taller girl furrowed her eyebrows. “I guess. But just to make it clear, I don’t have feelings for you. I’m doing this because we can’t start off our season without one of our players, especially one as…promising as you. It’s for the team’s better if you’re in Europe - it’s for the love of the game.” She stared straight ahead as she spoke, avoiding eye contact with Azzi.

“Okayyyy,” Azzi trailed. “What’re we gonna tell the rest of the team?”

“They can’t know,” Paige responded quickly. “Did you see how all the stuff we said to each other got back to Geno? We’re gonna have to pretend in front of the team too.”

Azzi halted in her steps, realizing the full extent of what they were about to do. “You realize this means that we’ll have to act like a couple basically all the time right? We’re always with the team.”

The corner of Paige’s lips turned up. “What?” she asked. “You scared you’re gonna fall in love with me?” When she saw the look on Azzi’s face, she said in a more serious tone, “Don’t worry. We can always break up after Geno’s kid finishes her assignment. I think the issue is making everyone believe we’re dating after…you know.”

Azzi nodded, deep in thought. “We can say that in the meeting with Geno, he forced us to spend time together and we just kinda grew on each other.”

Paige made a noise in agreement. “It’ll be kinda hard, though,” she said. “Not being mean to you.”

“Shut the fuck up. And for the record, I’m straight. I will absolutely not fall in love with you.”

“We’ll see about that, sweet cheeks.”

#paige bueckers #uconnwbb #azzi fudd #wbb #wcbb #pazzi

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vera27 · 6 months

Text

Black and white and colored. I've included a little fic below. It's my first attempt at tomarry or harrymort.

Temporus Secare

Summary: When Harry accidentally travels to the past, he takes up the alias Henry Dursley, parading as a squib employed at an enchanted machinery shop. There he keeps himself out of trouble and stays in the shadows, all while working on a device that will take him home. Sometimes he struggles with the pureblood patrons but Harry is quick to apologize and nothing comes of it in the end. A year into his struggle, and he's completed the necklace. But when an unexpected visitor appears, someone that's been watching from the shadows, Harry has no choice other than to fight and irrevocably change the future.

The peat and dirt below Harry chilled his knee, bringing frost to his skin. All of this…. His chest heaved, fatigue from the day baring down on him in chains. Laboured breaths fogged the air. He felt hopeless, desolate.

Happiness was elusive. A thing that could never be tangible, leaving it to slip through his fingers. He’d had it back home, back years—decades—into the future. Picturing nights at the Burrow or evenings at Grimmauld place surrounded by Ron, Hermione, the Weasleys came easily and accompanied by infinite warmth. Yet now, all that happiness—love and family—was gone.

All of this…. Harry’s fist tightened. He ground his shoe down. The tissue beneath gave until he felt the harsh grind of bone. The man under him grunted, his eyes glinting dangerously in the dark of night.

‘You already have me at your mercy, Dursley. I did not take you for a man of violence,’ the other said.

Black hair that mirrored the surrounding night, pale skin, and eyes akin to blood reflected. On his face, flaunted smug satisfaction. Harry felt anger rise, noxious and acidic. The man beneath was human—enough to make his hand twitch with the killing curse—and yet not. A wax doll with no heart. A monster that had split his soul thrice. He wanted to purge this vile man. Rid the world of him, if only to prevent what was to come. But killing him wouldn’t accomplish anything. It couldn’t bring Harry back home, and Voldemort would rise again.

Harry looked away. On his neck, the iridescent gemstone dimmed to a dull grey. The luminosity, the pathway, lost. Above, the moonlight shone red like Voldemort’s eyes. He shut away the sight, taking in the dead silence of winter’s end.

All of this…for nothing.

It wasn’t supposed to go this way.

Harry had planned everything, had his movements down to a bulleted list that would make Hermione proud. There were rules. Stay quiet. Don’t involve yourself in raids, attacks, murders. Anything brash, Gryffindor, could change the timeline irrevocably. Past that, find a way home. And he did. Not through Albus Dumbledore, not through the Ministry and the unspeakables, but through the author of an informative research parchment on time travel and time rifts.

Evan Nerian Prewett had been integral in the development of the Temporus Secare. A time turner of sort. One that, rather than turning time backward, created a rift to an exact point in the future. A fickle device that could posit multiple realities but only allowed passage to one through a series of rituals, star alignments, and lunar cycles.And there was but one future that Harry was interested in.

‘An interesting necklace. Prewett holds a rather brilliant mind. A pity he’s been diagnosed with a terminal ailment,’ Voldemort continued.

Something sick roiled in Harry’s stomach. Prewett lying on the bed at St. Mungo’s, there to stay as his illness progressed, flashed in his mind. The man had little more than weeks left, but he’d poured all the effort he could into helping Harry get here.

Harry ground his heel into Voldemort’s shoulder. ‘Shut it,’ Harry hissed, still not meeting the other’s eyes.

‘Touchy,’ Voldemort said.

What a bastard. But Harry didn’t snap back. Silence sunk back in as he scrambled to think. Options. Plans. He could play it by ear. It wasn’t far from the usual, after all. They’d ended up improvising time and time again, as things had tended to go awry. This wasn’t any different. Harry took a calming breath. He could Obliviate him and—

‘I’m guessing that rather dull colour it has transitioned to isn’t what you’re looking for,’ Voldemort continued.

Harry bit his lip.

‘Thought not,’ he said.

Harry could hear the sly smile in his tone. Resentment prompted him. He dug his wand into Voldemort’s chest, sneering down.

‘One more word and I’ll split you sternum to hip,’ Harry spat.

‘Promises, promises. However, if you were going to kill me, I imagine you’d have done it earlier,’ Voldemort smiled, cruel and manic.

‘Who’d have thought the quiet, bumbling clerk at Le Voile was such a cold-hearted sadist? So clumsy in the store, but here you’ve bested me. Did you have fun hiding in plain sight? Did you enjoy acting as if you were nothing but a worthless squib, catering to the most arrogant of purebloods?’

His wand dug into the other’s chest, the tip sparking noxious green flecks across clothing.

Harry didn’t hate working for Le Voile. It was a tiny establishment, quaint and filled with magic. The owner—a Soul Seer—had taken up the obscure business of attaching the departed souls of familiars to mechanical bodies. The work performed was worth it. But there was some truth to what Voldemort said. Harry hated working the counters, being subjected to scrutiny day in and day out. He’d tuck his magic tight to his chest, smothering his power so it couldn’t stretch, breathe. Dimming it day after day. But the small shop checked off his list. A business that didn’t exist in the future, that wasn’t in Knockturn Alley, and that was niche enough that few customers stopped in.

‘The fire in your eyes speaks for itself. But you certainly fooled Malfoy. Grovelling with your head to the floor, murmuring apologies in that obedient tone. A talented actor. I wonder, is Henry Dursley even your real name?’

Harry flinched at the accusation.

‘Such an accomplished liar. Possibly even better than I, but the cracks are there. Bowing like you’ve been cowed since birth, but you fight like you have been fighting all your life. I do love that undaunted bravery. However, I must say the sight of your submission was quite...enticing. How I’d love to see it, you, kneeling between my knees.’ Voldemort smirk turned salacious.

Harry reeled back. His stomach turned and twisted. What the fuck?

‘D-do you ever shut up, you psycho?’ Harry cursed his stutter, cheeks both pinking and paling at the thought.

Voldemort laughed. It was loud, not nearly as high and shrill as he knew from before. Harry blinked, stunned. Then, as fast as a snake, Voldemort struck.

A red curse spelled from his wand. Rouge rolled over Harry’s skin. He felt his muscles tense. Immobile from the stunner, Voldemort flipped them round. His tall, lean body loomed over Harry. The expression on his face was obscured by the night’s shadow. Light from the moon lay hidden behind clouds.

Harry cursed and writhed but was bound from inside his mind.

A hand, much too cold to be human, hovered over his brow, touching his scar and sliding to his cheek. Dabbling in dark magic had already made its mark. Red eyes glinted in the dark of his face. They looked hungry, ravenous. Harry would’ve shivered if not for the binds that held him.

‘You’re an enigma, Henry,’ Voldemort said almost playfully. ‘To others, you seem to be nothing but a pebble in a river of gold, but I can see it. I’ve known since the moment your eyes met mine. Your value, your power. It calls out to me as if an old friend. I feel it’s warmth, it’s raw strength, and I know you can’t be anything further from ordinary.’

His thumb trailed down Harry’s face and to the hollow of his neck. Sharp nails cut against the buttons of Harry’s shirt, tearing it open and allowing in the cold. Gooseflesh rose on his skin, either from the winter air or Voldemort’s icy touch. Harry couldn’t tell. But the hand continued on its path, sloping over his collar and to his chest. Trepidation filled him with a terror he’d never felt.

What was Voldemort doing? Why was his hand on Harry’s chest?

Its slow drag came to a pause above his heart. On his core.

Harry’s body resisted the cold of Voldemort’s touch. It felt stomach-churning, disgusting, yet at the same time, Harry felt oversensitive, vulnerable to its lazy movements. But then, something sparked. A magic unlike his own reached through the tips of those fingers to Harry’s core and caught fire.

The air escaped his lungs, everything coming into picture. Colours flared to life, bright and vibrant. Sounds heightened, sharp and full. Harry could feel the trickle of sweat drip down his nape. He could hear the ragged breaths of Voldemort above him. Senses heightened to overstimulation. It was too much and too little at the same time. Pain and pleasure. A wholeness to Harry’s soul that he didn’t know he was missing settled in. His finger twitched.

The stunning spell was coming loose.

Voldemort moaned to the sensation. Above Harry, the man’s eyes were blown in arousal. Harry’s breathing caught. The moon shone through the clouds, illuminating them. Red painted Voldemort’s face in a flush, melting waxy features to something much too human.

Harry shivered, trying to move, but was still bound by magic.

Voldemort laughed again. This time low and deep, a strange sort of mania rolling with every hitched chuckle. He leaned into Harry’s space; face much too close for comfort. Hot breaths ghosted Harry’s cheek. The hand on his chest rose to his nape. Fingers toyed with the chain of the artefact, teasing it forward.

‘What a precious thing. One that I almost let slip by,’ Voldemort whispered.

Then tugged.

The chain snapped. Links broke. Golden rings rained down in the dark. Voldemort rose from him. He held the item—Harry’s only way home—and inspected it. Would he take it, steal it away? No. Harry wouldn’t let him. This was something much too dangerous to let fall into Voldemort’s hands.

‘Ut te ad mundum,’ he read the words carved into metal.

To take you to your world. The golden bands around the greyed gem glinted. Harry’s heart pounded. His wrist twitched. The magic binding on him loosened further.

Voldemort took one look at Harry, rose his wand. But not towards him, and spelled.

‘Deletrius.’

His yew wand pointed to the device. The Temporus Secare shown one last flaxen gleam before it turned to dust, the gem falling inert to the ground.

Harry howled. A raw scream tore from his chest as magic flared from his core. A scorching wind rose and tossed Voldemort off him. He stood. Voldemort grunted from the burns on his hands. Harry towered over him once more. His wand aimed at the other’s chest, heel digging into his clavicle.

‘Why? Why did you destroy it!?’ Harry demanded.

Voldemort smiled, that manic expression still on his face despite his palms—red and blistered from burns.

‘I won’t let something of such value slip past my grasp,’ Voldemort said.

Harry stared at him in confusion. Valuable? He’d destroyed the device. It wasn’t a vanishing charm or a displacement spell.

‘What are you talking about? You destroyed the necklace. You aren’t making any sense,’ Harry said.

‘Yes. A steep price. But it’s worth nothing in compare to you.’

His brows furrowed. He observed the blood red that tracked his every move, twitch, and the dark glint of his eyes that seemed to look with… with....

The burned, blistered hand snaked out to grab his ankle. Fingernails dug into his flesh.

‘ “You.” You’re referring to me?’ Harry said in a breathy voice, like it had been punched out of him.

‘Yes,’ Voldemort said, his voice sibilant as if speaking parseltongue. ‘I’m drawn to you. I won’t let you go.’

Harry’s heart dropped. His hopes trickled away—sand between his fingers. Eyes that darkened with obsession bore into him.

‘My magic sings to yours. My soul longs for you.’ Such horrible promise lingered in the air. ‘Your mine as much as I’m yours.’

And Harry knew he was never going home.

#harry potter #harry james potter #tomarry #harrymort #tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #tmr #fanart #fanfic #writing #myart

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el-tur-el · 3 months

Text

like a heathen clung to the homily.

Pairing: Harper Geraldus x F!Tav

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content. 18+, Minors DNI.

Word Count: 1,102. Read it on AO3.

Little bit of a schedule swap - Rolan piece should be up on Sunday. Have this in the meantime, the brain bees said 'must write sad wet cat man'. (This is not the fic I have planned that involves edging, that will be coming later.)

Warmth. Patchouli and some kind of flower that she doesn’t know the name of, essential oils pooling in little slicks on the surface of the water. She sees herself in them, iridescent and raw, constantly changing shape. Home can be whatever you make it; she learned that during her time fighting the Illithid threat, when it came in the form of purple robes, of quietly murmured prayers. Of the flash of a silver sword, the peek of fangs from between pouty lips. The most elegant horns she had ever seen. The smell of peat moss and petrichor. Brimstone and something sweet.

It looks a little different now. A solid torso, a wiry frame; his back pressed against her stomach, his head tilted against her shoulder. His eyes are closed, and she can’t help but think that it was all worth it. For this. Just this. To be able to hold him, to be able to contort herself into the shape of his home.

She loves him, she loves him, she loves him.

She presses her lips to the crown of his head, and he smiles, slow and lazy. Sweet in that sort of way that makes her heart seize up behind her sternum. He deserves the world - she only wishes a human being could be capable of offering up something of that magnitude. She would move mountains. She would write sonnets. She’d kiss every freckle, trace the constellations mapped out on his skin, document them all to memory.

What a beautiful, fragile thing a heart is. What a privilege to be able to cradle one in your hands.

“I love you.” She murmurs against the soft black of his hair, slick with sweat and water and oils that were far, far too expensive. Indulgence breeds complacency, but he’s worth it. “Can I take care of you, sweetheart?”

“Yes.” He rasps, all wet-eyed wonder, thick and tempting, pools of honey.

Her palm splays out flat between his pectorals, soapy and damp, and she drags it down the dip and curve of his stomach, his flanks. Past his navel and southward, to somewhere warmer. Yielding. Her fingers loosely wrap around his cock, and she swears she will take him apart piece by piece with the reverence he deserves.

He lets out a shuddering breath, tilting his head to press his lips against the soft column of her throat. Such a pretty thing, soft and pliable against her. Malleable like clay, something to shape with her hands, make and unmake. She moves, slow, and he whines against her skin. She could bottle that sound. Drink it down every night. Headier than wine. Sweeter than mead.

“So good for me.” She breathes out, praise and prayer all in one. “Just like that, sweetheart. Look at you.”

His hips shift against her grip, the water in the tub sloshing with the movement. She’ll have to wipe up the floors later, but she cares little; another act of tenderness, another reminder of a love that she never once thought she’d be blessed with.

“Tav.”

“I’ve got you, lovely.” She moves at an achingly slow pace. There’s no rush anymore. Not now, not here, in this space she’s made for him. In the yawning canyon of tenderness that she’s so carefully crafted. A house of worship. A church, an altar, a prayer. Communion.

He’s always been a restless thing, and this time is no different; squirming against her, pushing up into her hand. Needy. Wanton. Debauched. She studies his face, the furrow of his brow, the bow of his lips. Memorizes it, pockets it for later. Savors every little detail, every whine, every moan.

“Does that feel good, Geraldus?” Something about this man, this bright and beautiful and brilliant man, has put her in a state of perpetual motion. The movement of her lips wrapping around every syllable, the innate need to be touching him at all times. Frenetic and frenzied in her need to prove devotion.

“Y-Yes, Tav, Gods.” His voice cracks, trembles. A low heat pools in her stomach. “I want - I -”

“Anything.” She whispers, and she means it.

“I want you, please.”

And really, truly, who is she to say no to that.

She’s silently grateful that she splurged on the ornate tub for their home, nearly the size of a pool; one of the few things she’d allowed herself to be selfish about. He gently disentangles himself from her grasp, turning over so he’s facing her, his cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink. He presses his lips to hers like it’s the first time. Does this every time. Still so soft and unsure of himself, even now.

Her hands come to his shoulder blades, and she sighs into the tentative press of his mouth as he pushes into her. She feels weightless, here, underneath him, the heat of the water around them. He traces a fingertip between the valley of her breasts, down to her hip bone. Exploratory. Cartography. Venturing landscapes made of flesh and breath. Two fingers slowly press against her clit as he ruts into her - shallow, languid.

It is not heat and fire and fury. It is home.

“I love you.” He sighs, his forehead pressing against hers.

Even now, with him settled against her, she is sick with yearning. It’s cloying and syrupy and saccharine, the way she loves him. Her friends regularly rib her about it. But she doesn’t care.

Happy. For the first time in a very, very long time.

His breathing grows ragged, his noises a little breathier, a little higher. Her muscles tense, anticipation thrumming under the surface of paper-thin skin, bursting at the seams. To watch him unspool like embroidery thread, to hold the weight of him against her as he falls apart.

“I’ve got you.” She breathes out again. “Let go for me, sweet thing.”

He shakes against her, a thin, high whimper spilling past his lips. His fingers press against her clit a little more firmly, still so eager to please even as he dissolves into little more than broken sounds before her. She keens, heat rushing through her veins, spilling forth. Her head tilts back and her eyes flutter shut, caught between the here and not, weightless.

They settle against one another, arms wrapping around skin spattered with rivulets of water, his face tucked into the crook of her neck.

Would that she were a church, so that she may bless and keep him always.

The silk swallows her up that evening. The thought haunts her, rattles about her mind.

Milk and honey. A crown of thistle and thorn. Royalty. Deity. Lover.

#geraldus x tav #bg3 geraldus #geraldus bg3 #harper geraldus #harper geraldus x tav #bg3 smut #bg3 x reader #bg3 fanfiction #bg3

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bird-inacage · 1 year

Photo

A Sky Gifset | Sky’s Beautiful Eyes (A Brief Essay)

Inspired by “Someone said P’Peat’s eyes are a brown colour, and I think P’Peat’s eyes are like crystal. Because every time the light hits your eyes, they’ll glow.” - Fort Thitipong

So this is where Sky’s eyes look the most like crystal, sort of glassy and translucent, bright and reflective in the morning light.

THE famous doe-eyed expression. There’s something about Sky’s eyes that really draw you in. I just thought they looked so pretty here, wide-eyed, inquisitive and gentle.

This is where his eyes looks the lightest, almost amber-brown, and certainly glowing (as Fort tells us).

The distinction between the third and fourth gifs is pretty incredible - they almost look like two different people. Sky’s eyes are a warm molten chocolate, filled with this newfound assuredness and optimism.

Thank you @fortpeat for making me aware of this little comment. I haven’t been able to get it out of my head ever since!

#LITA #love in the air #love in the air series #prapaisky #paisky #sky #prapai x sky #sky x prapai #peat wasuthorn #fort thitipong #he's so goddamn beautiful #i could look at you all day child #i practically do #sky's eyes appreciation post

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nrdmssgs · 1 year

Text

John Price meeting civilian reader scenario (part 2)

Part 1

Masterlist

The alarm sets off so early the next morning, you feel, like you've just closed your eyes a few minutes ago. You drag yourself out from a comfort of your warm blanket and head to the bathroom.

As you are standing there before the mirror, brushing your teeth, you remember, that yesterday you invited a man you've only known a few hours for today's walk. Sounds unsafe, but then again that smile, that deep voice and muffled croaky chuckles...

Someone may call you reckless, but you call it a risk worth taking. Plus, if you never come back from that walk with him - that means, that your vacation never actually ends. So there are bright sides to even the worst possible outcomes.

In half an hour, you step out of your cabin fully prepared. Deep inside, you are ready to go on your hike alone, if the guy doesn't show up.

But Price already waits for you, leaning on the bench where you chatted yesterday. He looks at you with a smirk.

"How do you look so alive It's not even 5 am now!" - you whine, jealous of his fresh look despite the early hour.

Instead of answering, he hands you his thermos. You open and sniff it. The aroma is faintly reminiscent of coffee...

"Careful. Just a sip." - he says quietly.

You take a tiny sip and cover your mouth with your hand to keep from spitting out the contents. This drink really remotely resembles coffee. Coffee, if mixed with earth, pieces of peat and liquid fire. You cough so hard that your body trembles and tears come to your eyes. "What the bloody... thing is it? Biohazard home brew?"

He tries to hold back his laughter, but he can't. "Sorry, I thought I brewed it softer than usual today." he smiles as he takes the thermos from you and wipes a tear from your cheek.

Moving out on the road, you still occasionally cough. He is genuinely remorseful, though he can't help but smile when you turn away.

You reach the trail just as fog begins to descend from the hills covered with fir trees. The first rays of the sun break through the branches. You take out your camera and turn it on.

"Ok, now I'll go a few steps ahead, and you will be in charge of navigation" - you give him a printed map of your route.

"Add an external observation to that, and I might as well charge you for my services..." - he murmurs under his breath, as you proceed to film your walk.

He inadvertently approaches you several times and almost overtakes you. You have to catch him by the sleeve of his jacket and gently pull him back so that he doesn't get into the frame.

"Sorry, John, I just want those videos to be only about nature. When we come back, I'll show you how good it looks, I promise" - you whisper.

He doesn't mind, though. Fresh and calm morning nature, crisp air, the view he gets, following you from behind... No, he doesn't mind at all.

He likes to silently follow you, occasionally directing you by the shoulder on the cross paths.

This feels like a perfect combination of something he's good at (taking care and guiding) and something he craves (to have a rest).

He even regrets that time has flown by so quickly when you return.

You show him your YouTube channel with silent walking videos, and he is absolutely delighted.

"So there is a right side of this bloody circus after all! I thought it was just an endless chaotic party being translated there." He sighs in relief and turns on your next video.

You wonder what exactly he means by "a right side" of YouTube, but decide to leave him in peace as he's browsing through your vids.

When you are out of sight, he discreetly pulls out his reading glasses, puts them on and writes your channels name down in a little notebook. Then he thinks for a couple of seconds and writes its address down too.

Yes, this whole "...tube.com/channel/UClD8....." stuff. Just to be sure, you know?

After this vacation, your channel has seen a huge increase in viewing statistics.

Price revisits your videos in any free minute.

Others in the Task Force 141 notice that their captain has begun to spend more time at the computer, although they couldn’t even drag him there by force before.

"So when I make time to find and share something funny with your ingrate asses - I'm to be yelled at, but when the captain rewatches a walk down some road in a random forest for several hours - this is not a problem for you?" - Soap grunts at dinner.

No one answers him, because your vids became kind of meditation sessions to a half of the team, since Price shared them with others.

Price leaves awkwardly formal commentaries under every your video.

Like "Dear content creator, I want to send my sincere gratitude for your taking the time to make this video. I genuinely appreciate your enthusiasm for sharing this walk of yours with us all. Thank you again for your dedication."

Gaz can't stand such a level of cringe and shows Price, that there is an "about the channel" info section out there, with your email in it. Just in case, Price wanted to... express his gratitude to you more privately.

"I never asked for it!" - snarls Price, but ends up emailing you as soon as Gaz is out of his sight.

#cod #cod modern warfare #cod x reader #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod mv2 #john price x reader #john price x you #captain john price #price x reader #captain price #price mw2 #john price #captain price imagine #captain price x reader #captain price x you #price imagine #john price fanfic #john price mw2

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bonefall · 4 months

Note

"Edward" by American murder songs for Batear and Houndstar, specifically her immediately knowing it was him who did the murder and trying to get him to say where the body is. It almost sounds like the stars themselves bearring down on him to get him to admit it in the end

It's sorta funny to see the typical "secret murder in forest" thing that happens a lot in warriors, but the leader immediately knows who did it

Oh shoot your brain

Context: Batear's Murder, Houndstar's Summary

youtube

Tell not thorn nor lie Speak to me o murder child Trouble's in your eye Speak to me o murder child You bite the hand that feeds and crow So count here naked in the snow Tell not thorn nor lie Speak to me o murder child

-Houndstar

After the spring you shall find him After the snow leaves the hill After the spring you shall find him 'Til then there's no grave to fill

-Batear, in his exile, still ghoulishly proud of himself knowing that they cannot even find Palefoot until the spring thaw makes the bog's peat soft and malleable again... and they'll never learn where to look, anyway.

Yeah that's a fantastic song for them

#better bones au #fennelposting #bone babble #song talk #BB!Houndstar #BB!Batear

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novankenn · 2 months

Text

20 Weeks after... The Day after... Everyone is Irish

(Post that Started it All / Post that followed after)

Weiss was nervous as Joan her now steady girlfriend lead her towards the entrance to a fairly massive two story stone and timber home. She knew it was only a formality considering Joan had already announced their relationship to her family... no Weiss was mostly okay... it was Pyrrha and Jaune she was concerned for.

Pyrrha: JAUNE! Stop!

Jaune: I'm sorry! Did I hurt you? Are you okay?

Pyrrha: Jaune please, I'm okay, you're just doing it again... you're hovering and you don;t need to... I'm okay. We'll be okay.

Weiss looked over her shoulder and watched as Jaune hovered about the showing Pyrrha Nikos. While Jaune had announced his own relationship to his family... they had yet to find out about the bundle of joy that was on its way. Though with how much Pyrrha was showing Wiess and Joan figured that maybe there was more than one bundle on the way.

Joan: Ready, Snow-Angel?

Weiss blushed, as she always did when Joan used that pet name. Unable to control her voice she just nodded. The door was yanked open just as Joan raised her hand to knock...

Joan: MA!

Moma Arc: About time the four of ye got here! Get you arses inside, it's a bit chilly out here... and YOU!

Jaune: MA?

Moma Arc: You best be ready, 'cause you knows the rules young man!

Pyrrha: Jaune what is she...

Moma Arc moves past Weiss and Joan to get beside Pyrrha and gently takes her hand to assist her towards the door.

Pyrrha: Oh hello!

Moma Arc: You just come along deary, and welcome to the family.

Pyrrha: Um... Jaune?

Jaune: You see Pyr... um... it's like this... um we're having a baby and no Arc...

Moma Arc: nor McMurray is ever born to thee unwed... so little missus... welcome to the family.

Pyrrha: I... I...

Moma Arc: Girls! You know the drill!

Arc Sisters: Aye!

Pyrrha was shocked to see the homely and welcoming interior of the mansion D'Arc... but not as much as her seeing the sea of at least two dozen girls with various lengths and shades of blond hair.

Jaune: God damn it! Their all here.!

Moma Arc: You dang right they is! Girls!

Pyrrha was lead to a love seat and took a the free space next to Weiss. Joan no where to be seen, with Jaune also vanishing.

Pyrrha: Weiss are you okay?

Weiss: I'm scared... Pyrrha... terrified.

The pair of young ladies were startled when the drums, penny whistles, fiddles and hand clapping started.

Weiss / Pyrrha : ...

ARC Family: Step we gaily, on we go Heel for heel and toe for toe Arm in arm and row on row All for Marie's wedding

Step we gaily, on we go Heel for heel and toe for toe Arm in arm and row on row All for Marie's wedding

Pyrrha and Weiss began to blush as a pair of the Arc family, two adorable young girls no more than maybe seven or eight came skipping through the room carrying bouquets of Lavendar and Heather over to Pyrrha and Weiss...

Weiss / Pyrrha: Ah? Thank you?

ARC Family: Over hillways up and down Myrtle green and bracken brown Past the shielings through the town All for sake of Marie

Step we gaily, on we go Heel for heel and toe for toe Arm in arm and row on row All for Marie's wedding

Pyrrha / Weiss: ...

Joan and Jaune reemerged from amid the gathered Arc clan, both in formal suits with kilts... causing both Weiss and Pyrrha to blush even more at the fine figures their significant others cut.

ARC Family: Red her cheeks as rowans are Bright her eyes as any star Fairest of them all by far Is our darling Marie

Step we gaily, on we go Heel for heel and toe for toe Arm in arm and row on row All for Marie's wedding

Pyrrha / Weiss: EEP!

Two of each of the sea of blonds helped them from the love seat while pushing Joan and Jaune into the now empty seat.

ARC Family: Oh plenty herring, plenty meal Plenty peat to fill her creel Plenty bonny bairns as well That's the toast for Marie

Step we gaily, on we go Heel for heel and toe for toe Arm in arm and row on row All for Marie's wedding

Jaune: They are so going to be pissed at us...

Joan: At you, Jaune. Pissed at you.

Jaune: I'm not...

Joan: You know the rules... we were born together... we get married together...

Jaune: I know... I know...

ARC Family: Step we gaily, on we go Heel for heel and toe for toe Arm in arm and row on row All for Marie's wedding

Step we gaily, on we go Heel for heel and toe for toe Arm in arm and row on row All for Marie's wedding

Jaune / Joan: ... so beautiful...

(Images generated by perchance ai text-to-image)

ARC Family: Step we gaily, on we go Heel for heel and toe for toe Arm in arm and row on row All for Marie's wedding

Step we gaily, on we go Heel for heel and toe for toe Arm in arm and row on row All for Marie's wedding

Joan is placed next to Weiss, while Jaune is paired with Pyrrha. The quartet quickly finding themselves gently being shuffled along into the backyard...

ARC Family: Step we gaily, on we go Heel for heel and toe for toe Arm in arm and row on row All for Marie's wedding

youtube

/==/ SO NOW it is confirmed... I've totally lost it! /==/

#rwby #jaune arc #pyrrha nikos #joan arc #weiss schnee #google translate #the Arc family #ai generated illustrations #youtube #Youtube

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