#tawny you’re awesome

[lilcatastrophe]

I was just going to comment on your post but this got too long and I figured this would work too.

You could do one of those challenges where you take a character and draw them in multiple art styles. Orrrrr the 'give me 5 characters to make fanart of' thingy.

Or you could do one of those wardrobe/personality memes. For example, Keith in the personality/clothing of all of the other vld characters. Or different hairstyles. (Plus Lance's reaction to Keith's hair somehow getting worse and everyone else not even noticing.) Or different kinds of jackets! You can do a lot of stuff with that kind of thing. Wait if you do hair can you do the crimped style thing?? Or this:

It's so perfect for him!! (Is it just me or does her hair look REALLY soft?)

Orrrrrrrr.....

GASP

!!! Give him a proper mullet!

Oops sorry I got carried away. (Wait but the outfit thing would be so fun too!)

STOP EVERTHING. Picture this. Keith. In. LADY GAGA'S OUTFITS. THE COLORFUL ONES.

I'm not laughing, you're laughing.... (But picture Keith in this)

I can top that wait.

Thank you for your time.

OH MY GOD THIS IS AMAZING you’re the best haha :D i love all of these ideas so much. i was thinking of just the 6 fanart thing but this is so much more interesting (though i will def do that at some point) the hair styles would be so interesting to do on some characters (keith with the crimped hair ? you got it man. 100%)

oh i could probably do the lady gaga outfits as a sort of small series of the various characters in them or something similar. her outfits seem wild it’ll be so fun. oh man i’ve gone from a brain fart to so much inspiration i might explode thank you thank you thank you <333

#silentwillowwhisperer #tawny you’re awesome #thank you #also these made me laugh #so thanks for that too haha #kay talks ★ #asks #long post #!!! #moots

[scottpilgrim-kgl]

>> SCOTT PILGRIM’S KILLING GAME LIFE : PROLOGUE

Word Count: 2,856

…

19 people—other than Scott Pilgrim—exactly how Gideon described it.

Other than the mandatory attire, there were cocktail drinks being handed out by butlers left and right. Of course, Wallace Wells and his friend, the Other Scott, as people called him, had run off to chase down just about every butler he could find to get more drinks once the ones they were currently drinking had run out. Scott’s gaze ran from one person to the other, naming off each of them in his head.

Kim Pine, Stephen Stills, and Young Neil were all back up against one of the walls, idly talking to each other. Knives Chau was snagging food from the small buffet and pushing it into her mouth while having a conversation with Ramona Flowers. Envy Adams—oh God, why did she have to be here—was trying to coax Todd Ingram into dancing with her, but he was too busy trying to find wherever Wallace was running off to. Julie Powers, with no one to shit–talk to, sat alone on the living room couch, taking gentle sips of her cocktail. Scott’s younger sister, Stacey Pilgrim, had just walked over to Kim, Stephen, and Neil to join their conversation. Lucas Wilson and Joel Macmillan were sneaking off into the backyard—most likely to get high off of whatever weed they managed to smuggle in. Jimmy Monet was also near the buffet, glaring enviously at Wallace as Other Scott followed him around the first floor. The rest of the five previous evil exes—Roxie Ritcher, Lucas Lee, Matthew Patel, and the Katayanagi twins—were all talking to each other on the other end of the living room.

Why did Gideon Graves invite him—Scott—in the first place? Didn’t he hate him? Or at least he’s supposed to hate him. But now that the League is disbanded, he wasn’t sure anymore. But what if this was just some elaborate plan to—

“Maybe you should stop overthinking and enjoy the party while you’re here, guy.”

Scott whipped his head around, eyes meeting the source of the sudden voice. “Wallace? When did you get over here?”

“I saw you just staring off into space from across the room.” His roommate explained, cheeks flushed, gently rocking from one foot to the other, and another drink in hand. It was safe to say that he’d already gotten drunk. “You gotta stop worrying! Who cares if it was hosted by Gideon? He’s throwing this awesome party for us… so… like… enjoy it. And if he comes out and tries to kill you or… something… then you’re allowed to tell me ‘I told you so’.”

Scott furrowed his brows, the corners of his lips angling in a similar fashion. After some silent contemplating, he decided that he should probably listen to Wallace. “I guess… maybe you’re right.” He sighed in defeat.

“I’m always right.” Wallace gave Scott a gentle shoulder pat. “Now, do you wanna raid the upstairs with me while Gideon isn’t here?”

“I’ll only go to make sure you don’t throw up on his shit.” Scott mumbled, hand already being grabbed as he was weaved through the first floor.

“I can control my stomach a lot better than you can, Pilgrim.” Wallace explains as the two of them reach the bottom of the staircase. As the first step was taken up the stairs, another step was taken down, from the top of them.

“Sorry, guys, upstairs is off limits for now!” The man himself, Gideon Graves, descended the staircase, fumbling his staff in his hand.

“Boooooo, we were totally gonna raid your stuff.” Wallace called, stepping aside to let the other raven–haired man through. Scott also took a step to the side, but kept his lips sealed as he did. Despite the quietness that came from the tawny–haired male, the daggers he glared were deafening. The music came to a stop—as if on command—and 18 other heads turned towards the stairs.

“Sorry it took me so long to get down here, I had to do a couple of last minute preparations.” Gideon explained, passing the two and entering the crowd.

“Preparations for what?” Scott asks, however his question was not met with an answer, which just let his suspicions grow. The other’s sudden appearance even got Crash and Joel to come back inside—albeit eyes red. Now, with everyone’s attention, Gideon ordered for everyone to gather in the family room, and that he had a special announcement to make before the party “really started to get going”. Just more red flags that began to show up in Scott’s field of vision. How was no one else seeing this? Or at least mentioning it, if they are? And people tell Scott that he’s the oblivious one. Or maybe he’s just reading too much into it, like Wallace said… he sighed, taking a seat on the wide couch right next to the aforementioned raven–haired male. Gideon stood before them all, right below the television that hung up on the wall. People crowded into the living room, trying not to knock over the expensive prized possessions Gideon had displayed on just about every flat surface.

“I just wanted to start off by thanking you all for showing up!” The other raven–haired male in glasses began. “There were a few others I sent invites to, but I guess they didn’t make it. A shame, really, but we’ll just have lots of fun without them!”

Scott gave Wallace a worried glance out of the corner of his eye. Wallace notices this and returns with a look of tiredness. Scott sees this as the other silently telling him to stop worrying, and glances back forward without a response.

“I never really… decided on an ending time for this party…” Gideon continued, fumbling with his cane. “When do you guys think it should end? In a few hours… midnight… tomorrow morning?”

The crowd was quiet, but they shared confused glances, as if some of them were genuinely contemplating an answer to the question.

“Or how about…” He quickly fished into one of his suit pockets, and pulled out a small remote. “Never?” His thumb landed on one of the buttons and pressed it down against the plastic remote, and sudden rumbling could be heard from outside. That’s when everyone else’s faces dropped. Everyone else’s… besides Wallace. He wasn’t buying any of this.

“What?” Piped up Lucas Lee, brows furrowing over brown eyes.

“I KNEW IT!” Shouted Scott, angrily leaping off of the sofa, which turned everyone’s shocked and confused gazes towards him.

Gideon’s eyebrow arched upwards. “You knew what?”

“You’re—” The ginger stuttered, immediately losing his confidence, “you gathered us—me—here… for… something!”

“Yeah, he gathered us here for a party.” Wallace spoke, condescendingly.

“Oh, no, he’s right!” Gideon hummed. “About my true intentions, that is. You really thought that I just gathered you all here for a party? Maybe Scott is the smarter one afterall.”

That’s when Wallace’s face finally dropped. “Okay, I’m with Lucas on this one. What?”

“Y’know how parties have games?” The other explained. “Well, I’ve always wanted to host a murder mystery!” Gideon snapped a finger, and a handful of butlers flooded into the living room and handed each house guest a small tablet with the three-G logo they all knew too well engraved on the back of them. “These G-Pads—G-Handbooks—whatever you want to call them, will be a major helping hand!”

“That’s a stupid name for them.” Kim called out, green-hazel eyes narrowed into an unamused glare.

“Oh?” The party’s host turns his attention towards the girl in the suit with the red bob. “Would you like to be our first example of why we follow the rules on those tablets? And keep your mouth shut when your host is trying to speak?”

Kim snorted out a chuckle. “You wouldn’t actually hurt us just for some party game.”

Gideon glared back, pressing another button on the remote in his hand without even giving it a glance. That was when a small portion of the back wall opened, and a mechanical claw flew out of it. The claw latched onto Kim’s arm, tightened its grip, and yanked her off of the couch and placed her next to Gideon. With the wind practically knocked out of her, the redhead tried to pull out of the claw’s grasp, but failed. Another claw emerged from the wall, this one holding a long blade. The claw pressed the blade up against Kim’s arm.

“I wouldn’t?” Gideon threatened. “Keep talking then, and see where that gets you.”

The redhead parted her lips to say one more snappy remark, but decided that it wasn’t the smartest option, and opted to stay silent, and pieced her lips back together. The claw let go of her arm, and she stomped back over to take her spot on the couch, gently rubbing at the spot on her arm that started to form a bruise.

“And before you guys look for an escape route, the button I pressed just a couple of minutes ago unleashed a giant dome around the entire property! You can take a look for yourselves!” It was almost like it was instinct, everyone got up all at once and rushed outside. Calmly, the game’s host followed them all.

He was right about the dome. It surrounded the entire property of the mansion, which luckily still included the yard around the building itself, so they had places to roam, but it was still quite cramped. The front courtyard was still accessible, and the roundabout with the fountain in the center, but beyond that was past the walls of the dome. Scott secretly hoped that the pool was still inside the dome… from the looks of it, it was a really nice one that he wanted to take a swim in sooner or later…

No, what on earth was he talking about? He just learned that he was trapped here inside of this dome with all of his friends—and Gideon Graves. The pool didn’t matter, unless it was going to help them all escape. He needed to find a way out of here, and fast.

“The only true way you guys are able to escape is if you kill one of the other House Guests and get away with it! I suggest you all start getting settled in and look around, because you’ll be here… forever, basically!” Gideon piped up, as if he was reading Scott’s mind. He probably was, too, Scott thought angrily.

“Your dinner’s at 6:30 PM, meet in the dining hall when the time comes! And read through the manual in the handbook. It’ll tell you everything you need to know about this place! Your first killing motive will be presented tomorrow morning! I’ll wake you all up bright and early for that! But you have most of the rest of the evening to explore, by most means. Certain areas will be locked for obvious reasons, though.” And with that, he had walked off. There was a thick cloud of silence that hung over everyone’s heads for about 40 seconds. A mixture of feelings arose amongst the crowd. Disbelief, shock, and fear were the most prominent.

“This—… This isn’t real. Right? Gideon’s just… playing a prank. An early April Fool’s prank. Yeah. Totally.” Stephen Stills anxiously broke the cloud of silence, face already covered in sweat, crossing his arms uncomfortably over his chest.

“Two months early? Would he really be that dedicated?” Wallace commented back, tone still lighthearted despite the situation they’re in.

“Wallace, this isn’t the time for your one liners.” Ramona Flowers said, gaze landing on the slender dark haired man. “Our lives are at stake here.”

“Please. You really believe that this is real? Yeah, Gideon’s a douchebag but he wouldn’t go this far.” Wallace argues back.

“I think we should at least listen to what he said… about investigating.” Scott interrupted the two before a proper argument could break out. “Why don’t we break each other up into groups and take different areas… and then… regroup for dinner and tell each other what we found?”

The group fell silent for another moment.

“Let’s… read the handbook first though, yeah? It might have some important information we’d need for investigating.” Stephen suggests afterwards. “Maybe there’s a map or something? Then we can settle on where everyone should look.”

They all agreed, some silently, others muttering “okay’s” and “right’s”. They all opened up the handbooks, finding the button on the sides of them and holding it down until the handbooks lit up. The same logo that was engraved on the back of them was shown on the screen once they were turned on.

“Oh, yeah, there’s a map, Stephen was right.” Neil mumbled, clicking on the tab and opening it, as everyone did the same once they had also found it.

“The fourth floor is… locked? Why?” Scott questioned.

“It’s probably where all of Gideon’s personal stuff is, like… his bedroom and stuff.” Todd replied, quietly, mostly glancing over towards Wallace in search of a praising reply for the minimum effort he put into answering Scott’s question. With no response, he glanced back down at the tablet, brows furrowed in annoyance.

“Oh, yeah, that makes sense.” Instead, Scott just responded back, then began to separate everyone into scouting groups. “Okay so… me, Wallace, Stephen, Neil, and…—” Scott paused, eyes casting towards whoever was left. After a few beats of quiet, someone volunteered.

“I’ll—uh… I’ll go.”

It was Matthew Patel, awkwardly picking at his fingernails with a flickering gaze. He wasn’t really sure where this sudden confidence came from either, but this was good right? He wanted to help.

“And Matthew. Sure. We’ll all investigate the… first floor.” The tawny–haired male gave a slow nod. “Kim, Ramona, Envy, Julie, Knives, and Stacey. You’re on the second floor. Todd, Lucas, Ken and Kyle, and Roxie, third floor. And that leaves Crash, Joel, Other Scott, and Jimmy to investigate the… surprisingly big basement, and the outside of the mansion. Front and back.”

“And who made you leader, Pilgrim?” Envy spat, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Do you see anyone else trying to lead?” Stephen spoke back, irritation slipping into his voice, and hands shoving into his pant pockets.

“Yeah, Envy, I agree with them, for once. Let’s just go investigate. Maybe we’ll find a way out, without the guys, too.” Julie tried to coax the tall redhead, the last part coming out in a mutter.

Stephen was about to snap back another scolding statement, but he found his words entangled and knotted up in his throat, unable to come out. He clamped his jaw shut, settling for giving the brunette a disappointed, annoyed stare, letting his words untangle. Now that he was able to properly speak, he parted his lips once more. “We’re all stuck here together, Julie. So we’ll find a way out together.”

“We’ll see about that.” She said, avoiding eye contact, and silently gesturing for the other people she was assigned with to follow her.

The first floor group had only just noticed that not only the second floor group, but the other groups had already departed while they were talking. “Oh, okay. Everyone’s gone.” Scott informed the others, as if they weren’t there, also seeing that everyone else was gone.

“First floor, you said?” Matthew asked in confirmation. “The floors are pretty big, should we split up? Three of us take one side, two of us take the other?”

At that, Neil shuffled closer to Stephen, and grabbed his hand. Stephen flashed him a smile, and squeezed his hand in return. However, knowing that Wallace and Scott probably wouldn’t want Matthew to tag along with them, the scruffy brunette took this chance to try and befriend the former Evil Ex, at least. “You can come with Neil and me, Matt.” He offered, beckoning him over.

“It looks like the Dining room, Kitchen, Laundry room, and a bathroom are off to the left, and the Living room, two more bathrooms, two of our bedrooms, and a Study room off to the right…” Neil says, still staring down at the map in his handbook.

“Scott and I will take the right, you guys take the left.” Wallace says, giving his roommate a soft pat on the shoulder. “Come on, Scotty, I’ll prove to you that this is all fake.” The jet–haired male said, his calm and cool composure still shining through, standing out against everyone else’s panicked states. He then walked off, back into the house.

Scott gave Wallace a cold glare as he walked off. How was he still so relaxed about this? This could be entirely serious, and he wasn’t taking it that way at—...

He paused. As his glare lingered, his eyes made a mishap and slipped down Wallace’s body as he walked away. Watching him walk in that dress just furthered his glare as his eyes flickered back up. This wasn’t the time to think about that. Their lives were at stake here, and they had to find a way out of here. Scott let out a breathy scoff as he followed the other back into the mansion.

#>> ⏳ #scott pilgrim’s killing game life #scott pilgrim #scott pilgrim takes off #scott pilgrim vs the world #scott pilgrim the anime

[queermentaldisaster]

I know you’re working on your shifter au (so excited btw it sounds awesome!) I just want your thoughts on

Deathshead Moth Ghost

Tawny Owl Ghost

Ahhh!!! Sorry this is so late!!! But I can see both of these fitting him! Can you imagine Tawny Owl!Ghost and Red Fox!Soap running around in their shifted forms!?

And Deaths-Head Moth!Ghost shifted and sleeping on Soap's snout!? AHHHHH I'M IN LOVE!

I still do think black panther was the best choice for him, for a variety of reasons that I will not get into here.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #call of duty mw2 #ghostsoap #ghoap #ghost mw2 #soapghost #soap mw2 #answered ask #anon answered #asks #anon ask #thanks anon! #shifter!au

[rftwfic]

A sneak peek into my immortal/reincarnation sterek fic, as voted on in the poll I did last week.

-

Stiles starts seeing the wolf out of the corner of his eye, like a hallucination. It’s in the woods at the edge of the school parking lot, in the bushes outside his bedroom window at night, behind every tree in the Preserve. Stiles is positive at least half of the instances are just his mind playing tricks on him, a combination of paranoia, Adderall, and sleepless nights either gaming or studying magic tomes leant to him by Deaton.

Besides, the wolf looks exactly like the drawing Deaton showed them: massive, black, and with glowing red eyes. It’s not worth telling the pack about, so Stiles keeps it to himself. 

-

Stiles goes back to Derek’s house to help him plant aster, lilac, and sage in his backyard with the hopes of attracting local bees. When the sun becomes unbearable they take a break inside the house and Derek makes them a pitcher of lemonade. While he’s puttering around the kitchen Stiles wanders through uninhabited rooms, fingers lightly trailing along desks and bookshelves piled high with treasure. Derek has traveled to more than just Europe, as is evident by the hand-crafted Chinese teapots on his shelves and the Persian rugs on his walls. When Stiles asks him about this he reveals that his main source of income is from writing history books, and he often travels to the places he’s writing about to better understand the cultural context of what he’s writing. When Stiles meanders innocently through his office he finds stacks of hand-written notes on the uses of public fountains in Turkey, as well as a few old books in Turkish and Greek.

Stiles asks him about this when they sit down in the kitchen to drink their lemonade, and finds out that Derek knows an awful lot about ancient ways of staying cool in hot climates, with lots of particular opinions about the proper construction of courtyards. Stiles stops him halfway through his insistence on the importance of purposely directed airflow to say, “you’re a huge nerd.”

Derek freezes, the hands he was using to demonstrate what he means lingering in the air. 

Stiles straightens in his chair, clearing his throat. “Not, um, not that that’s a bad thing. I mean, I spend most of my free time studying the occult, so…”

Derek lowers his hands. He glances out the window, where the afternoon sun is highlighting their newly planted flowers. “I have a book on the history of the occult in France if you’d like to borrow it.”

“Yeah,” Stiles’ smile bunches up his cheeks, still rosy from the sun and the heat. “That would be awesome.” 

-

Stiles is almost positive the wolf isn’t real until it saves him from a harpy. 

A small flock of them had taken residence in the Preserve, no doubt lured in by the beacon of Stiles’ growing power, and the pack had made it their mission to drive them away before anyone got hurt.

Stiles had walked through any and all protests and had joined the pack in the woods armed with his bat and a few handy spells, but sometime during the fight he had gotten separated from the others. He can still hear Isaac’s growls and Erica’s snarls, but they’re too far away to be seen through the trees.

Stiles takes another swing at the harpy, his forearm burning from where it had grabbed him earlier, where its talons had scored into his flesh when he managed to pull away. It dips quickly out of the way, its tawny wing a hair's breadth away from connecting with Stiles’ bat. It flies up again, preparing itself to loop back down with greater momentum.

Stiles readies his bat, shoulders tensed to swing at the monster’s outstretched talons, when he feels a rush of air at the back of his head. He ducks just in time, and another harpy barely misses sinking its claws into Stiles’ scalp. It grabs at his hair instead, wings flapping furiously above him as it yanks him around. He manages to swing blindly up and connect with its chest, knocking it off and loosening its grip so he can pull away.

He ends up crouched on the ground, his free hand clutching his aching head, his weapon hand uselessly hanging at his side. He looks up, and it’s too late to raise his bat to protect himself, to do anything more than flinch back in surprise as the first harpy descends upon him, its human mouth twisted open in a shriek. 

Stiles braces himself for pain, but then a shadow passes over him, something large and snarling leaping at the harpy, plucking it out of the air. When it lands on soft paws it viciously shakes its head back and forth, snapping the harpy’s neck before dropping its mangled body onto the ground. 

For a moment Stiles thinks it must be Scott. What other full-shift werewolf does he know? But then the wolf turns around and he gets a closer look.

Stiles knows the pattern of Scott’s coat, the lighter colored patches around his eyebrows, underbelly, and paws. This wolf is solid black, and much, much larger than Scott. It levels Stiles with glowing red eyes for just a moment before leaping away again, snatching the second harpy out of the air and wringing its neck like the first. By the time it drops to the ground, lifeless, Stiles is back on his feet and has his bat held out in front of him in a defensive position.

The wolf stands a few feet away and doesn’t try to approach. It looks Stiles up and down, assessing, and huffs at whatever conclusion it makes. Clearly Stiles is an idiot. His heart is beating in his throat, his breaths come in ragged pants, and he knows he should be running for his life right now, but he can’t seem to get his feet to move. Instead, he stares death in the face, and death stares back, and seems to find him wanting.

Stiles doesn’t relax his position when the wolf turns and walks away, doesn’t lower his arms until it’s far out of sight. Perhaps it’s waiting for something, as if Stiles’ powers aren’t strong enough for him yet. Either way, it knows where he is now, where to find him when he’s ripe for the picking. Stiles thinks of the legends Deaton told them, of the destruction wrought by the wolf when it arrived only to find the spark already snuffed out, and wonders if this is for the best.

#derek x stiles #sterek #teen wolf #derek hale #stiles stilinski

[silentwillowwhisperer]

BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD! (right back atcha tawny !) you don’t have to send it to any one else if you don’t wanna, you’re just very awesome so this is for you :]

This made me want to screech 'no tagbacks' like we did when we were five and played aggressive games of tag.

But thank youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu.

#kay tag #asks <3 #thanks for the ask! #tawny post

[sammy-the-haze]

My name is Clark S. I am a bird-watching enthusiast from the United States. Been birding since I was maybe nine years old and now I'm thirty. There are so many awesome birds: rock doves, tawny frogmouths, snowy egrets, scops owls... But above all else, my first love was ducks. According to Jente Ottenburghs's article, Multispecies Hybridization of Birds, mallards have been known to interbreed with at least 40 other species. Imagine that! Even more birds to adore! I learned to draw by drawing ducks at the lake next to my childhood home. I had my first kiss by that lake. I find no greater joy than when I take my stepson to feed ducks at the park. For me, ducks represent the most human emotion of all— love.

hi clark, first off, I am absolutely enamored with you and if you’d like to message me off anon so we can discuss birds (ducks, or otherwise) and your passion for them, you’re very welcome to it.

I do not trust ducks. I may even have something of a phobia of them. That being said, I find your love for them incredibly charming and will try my best to channel it in my writing.

I will not be including that ducks are so damn horny and prone to interbreeding.

#i also specifically LOVE doves if you want to talk more about them #sorry if the public response is weird #its because the message you sent is an anon and I cant respond to it directly

[secret-diary-of-an-fa]

Secret Diary’s Colour Wheel of Doom Returns!

Awhile ago, I wrote a blog in which I attempted to describe obscure colours in a way that would allow you to picture them. I’d originally written as a personal reference for colour-words I might want to use in fiction and only posted it because it was funny. It proved unexpectedly popular, so here’s the follow-up, containing even more weird and wonderful hues, described in the most aggressively anti-beautiful fashion possible by me, a curmudgeon on the internet.

Eburnean Ivory white- the colour bone. Also the colour I went that time I got on one of those spinny fairground rides and realised it went backwards. I wasn’t ready for that. I really wasn’t ready for that.

Smaragdine Have you ever wished there was an inexplicably ugly word for emerald green that sounds both like the name of an evil dragon in a Tolkien knock-off and a sneeze? Well, wish no more, because Smaragine is a real word and not just the incoherent nonsense it sounds like upon first hearing.

Carnelian Mature, reddish brown. The kind of red you might glimpse as you pass by the open door of a really posh club. As you see it, your eyes begin to well up with sorrow and rage. You’ll never had a red this nice, because you weren’t born into the fancy, over-privileged elites with their upmarket dyes and paints. You have to make do with cheap, knock-off reds, like oxblood and russet. You poor bastard.

Pervenche A deep blue with just a hint of purple in it. For people who want the thrill of purple without the associated risks.

Atrovirens A dark, stoic teal that leans more towards green than blue. A dependable sort of colour; a colour you can rely on. If Atrovirens was accused of committing a series of grizzly murders, the public’s reaction would be along the lines “but it can’t have! It always seemed like such a staid, responsible colour!” But don’t be fooled. Atrovirens has an edge. It takes its name from the Latin word for a particularly triangular conifer, and aptly so, because beneath its patient exterior lies the wild unpredictability of nature itself. Nice colour to paint your bathroom, though.

Fulvous A tawny orange colour reminiscent of a small, winter bird’s plumage. A nature lover’s colour that isn’t just yet another shade of fucking green.

Amaranth A lovely, purplish pink. The exact colour of a Blackpool sunset on a really nice day. Well, as nice as it’s possible for a day to be in the town where Britain’s penal system deposits all its convicted paedophiles and crack-heads (no, really: upon release from prison, a disproportionate number of paedos are sent to halfway houses in Blackpool, a seaside town that attracts a lot of vacation-ing families with small children. My country is really stupid). It’s almost as though the sunsets there are trying to make up for the people.

Zaffre A darker, broodier variant of sapphire. You can tell it’s just edgy sapphire by the way it’s fucking spelled. Seriously, what kind of pretentious colour starts with a Z? I bloody ask you.

Sinoper Also called ‘Sinople’, Sinoper isn’t just an awesome colour, it’s also fun to say (in either of its variations). One day I hope to find an excuse to name a town in a fantasy story Sinople, but until that day it will remain a deep, yet not fully saturated red with just a dash of orange. It reminds me a little of cinnamon, which may have prejudiced me in favour of Sinoper, because I fucking love cinnamon.

Nattier A slate blue popularised by a late 16- early-1700s rococo artist of the same name. You know those ugly, greysih-blue dresses posh people incorrectly thought were good in the Early Modern Period? Well, this is that colour, so if you want to describe a mental spinster attending the court of George II, it’s reasonable to assume that this is what she was wearing.

Watchet Another blue! A very light blue, like the sky. Or like a frostbitten corpse, if you’re feeling macabre. Don’t ask why I know what a frostbitten corpse looks like. Let’s just say my day-trip to the Houses of Parliament was eventful and leave it at that.

Banan It will always be hilarious to me that the specific yellow word to describe a ripe banana is just ‘banan’. Like, whoever came up with that wasn’t even trying. I can just imagine the conversation: someone said “Quick! We need a word for banana yellow, stat!” and the inventor just went “Banan!” After a long pause in which everyone in the room just stared at him, realising all he’d done was knock the ‘a’ off the end of ‘banana’, they all started to applaud and cry at the beautiful simplicity of it and it didn’t occur to anyone what an unbelievably stupid word it was until at least a decade later, by which time it was too late.

Verditer Similar to Celadon (see the original Colour Wheel of Doom post) in that it’s a sort of deco green with a hint of cyan in it. However, it’s a darker, deeper shade and looks like a slightly purer green at first glance. I like to think of it as the anti-Smaragdine, in that it’s a really beautiful word for green instead of a needlessly hideous, janky-to-say one. That said, if Verditer and Smaragdine had a fight, Smaragdine would definitely win, ‘cause it’s well hard. Verditer spends all its time eating soft cheeses, seducing impressionable maidens and ordering silk stockings off of eBay.

Argent A shining, silver white, argent is the colour of a noble knight’s delicate and ornate armour right before someone more practically dressed kicks him in the balls and skewers him with a big, fuck-off lance.

Catalina A twilight blue colour that also sounds like the name of a high-class stripper. So, a win-win sort of colour, really.

And that’s all I’ve got for now. Stay tuned for blogs about other, completely unrelated shit.

#Colours #hue #hues #colour #rainbow #obscure colour words #weird colours #art #writing

[one-more-offbeat-anthem]

Hi! Congrats on the milestone, 200 is awesome! :D Also I've heard you're doing prompts. So. How about - hm. It'd be an AU-(I hope you're okay with that) Dean & Cas work in an office & Cas has a massive crush on Dean but he's too shy (naturally) and then Dean starts talking about this "girl" with dark hair and blue eyes and how smitten he is and poor Cas, yes? (what does he know he be the girl Dean be talkin' about)

ahhh thank you :) I am a fan of AUs but I’ve never written an office one so this drabble should be fun!!!

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

Castiel Novak has been working at Roman Motors as an account for two years, and in that time, he’s learned a couple of things: he doesn’t really like being an accountant, suit jackets are pointless, the coffee in the break room is terrible after ten am, and he has a massive crush on Dean Winchester. 

Dean’s an engineer--he mainly works on engine design--but he also serves as the liaison between accounts and his own department, which means Castiel sees him at least once a week, sometimes twice, and they’ve gotten up a real rapport in that time.

It’s mainly because of Dean--he’s a tease, always wears plaid button-downs with the sleeves rolled up and boots instead of dress shoes, and likes to throw quips, jokes, little asides at Castiel. Last year, he referred to Castiel as his “devastatingly handsome friend” in conversation, and Castiel thought about it for a week.

(Actually, that’s a lie. He’s still thinking about it.)

The annual company founder’s ball is next week, and it’s all anyone will talk about, including Dean, who intercepted Castiel with a stack of paperwork in the break room this morning.

“You’re going, right?” Dean asks, running a hand through his short, tawny hair. It takes a lot of Castiel’s self-control to pry himself away from Dean’s gaze and focus on pouring his coffee.

Castiel shrugs. “Maybe.”

“C’mon, Cas,” Dean says (that’s another one of his things, the nickname), “It’ll be fun, and didn’t you skip last year’s? I wanna see you in a suit.”

“I’m wearing a suit right now.” Castiel takes a sip of his coffee. Terrible, as per usual.

“I mean a suit-suit, not this baggy shit. I,” Dean practically preens, “Look great in a suit.”

“Are you going to bring a date?” Castiel asks. A lot of people like to--he’s heard some interesting stories about post-ball hook-ups. 

“Dunno yet,” Dean replies, “Haven’t asked ‘em.”

********

For the rest of the week, founder’s ball talk only intensifies. Castiel, against his better judgement, buys himself a ticket, and then spends an evening roaming around Goodwill trying to find a vaguely interesting suit jacket.

In between, he has several more conversations with Dean that make him feel like a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of someone’s spoon, and Dean tells him more about the mystery girl he’s planning on asking to the ball.

“Dark hair,” Dean tells him one morning, while standing at Castiel’s desk, waiting for Cas to sign something for him. “Messy. But it looks good. And the eyes--the bluest blue you’ve ever seen in your life.”

Cas swallows and hands him the paper. “Sounds nice.”

Dean grins at him and heads off.

The next day, he runs into Dean in the bathroom. Dean leans against the sink while Castiel washes his hand. “And they’re really kind,” Dean says, “Quiet, but kind. Thoughtful.”

Castiel nods, dries his hand, and leaves.

The other facts come to him--Dean’s dream girl likes cats and has two, has never read a science fiction novel, loves nature documentaries, has two older brothers, and...

And isn’t Castiel.

The night of the ball, he finds himself standing in front of his bathroom mirror at his apartment, adjusting his jacket--navy blue with slightly shiny lapels, it had seemed nice at the store--and his best-fitting slacks. He attempts to flatten his dark hair in vain, and then gives up. Castiel makes sure his cats have enough water in their dishes and heads out.

When Castiel gets to the venue, he can already tell that he isn’t going to like this. He doesn’t go out much, he doesn’t drink to excess, and it’s loud and dark. 

He’s contemplating just turning around and leaving when he feels a hand on his shoulder and turns around. It’s Dean, and he looks...well, Castiel doesn’t always swear, but damn. Dean looks great.

“Cas! You actually came!” Dean looks weirdly thrilled to see Castiel. 

“Yeah,” Castiel says, “So did you.” It’s a dumb answer, but he feels awfully tongue-tied.

“Duh. Look, Cas, lemme buy you a drink. You look way too good to be drink-less.” And then Dean grabs Cas by his elbow and drags him to the open bar. 

They spend some indeterminate time standing against one of the wall and talking--Dean’s got straight whiskey, and Castiel has an old fashioned. 

“Aren’t you going to dance?” Dean asks, draining the last of his whiskey.

“It’s...not really my thing,” Castiel replies.

“Is there somewhere else you’d rather be?”

Castiel looks at the floor, drags a finger through the condensation on his glass. “I go on walks at night sometimes, stargaze, look at the city.”

“Then let’s go do that,” Dean says.

“Then let’s--” Castiel pulls his gaze back up meet Dean’s. “What?”

“Let’s go. You don’t wanna be here? Let’s do something else.” Dean snags a server and plucks Castiel’s glass out of his hand, putting both their drink glasses on the tray.

“What about the girl you were going to ask to the ball?” Castiel asks, tilting his head questioningly.

“The girl?” For some reason, Dean starts laughing. He doubles over and eventually collects himself, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes. “Damn, Cas, I haven’t laughed that hard in years. Not a girl.”

“A guy?” Castiel can feel his eyebrows shoot up.

“Tell me, Cas,” Dean has him by the elbow again, is leading him back out of the venue, “What guy do you know that’s shy but nice, has dark hair and blue eyes, has two cats--and the cats’ names are Lily and Marigold?” 

“I--” Castiel stops short, right outside, still under the awning. “What?”

“C’mon, Cas,” Dean says, moving his hand down hold Castiel’s, interlacing their fingers. “Let’s go on that walk.”

#long post #my writing #destiel #deancas #THANK YOU FRIEND #offbeatwrites

[divagonzo]

Like a Muggle

A/N: This is inspired (and a roughly written one-shot in my side-verse) by @headcanonsandmore aka Dadcanons and their musing of Ron being an awesome father to his kids.

Rated T for innuendo and some snogging but also veiled references to physical violence and social mortification. 98% Ace Safe. This will eventually end up on Ao3 and maybe FF.net

For now, though, it’s all for the Tumblr crowds.

Edit: Now on Ao3.

Give me my demarcation line damn it!

Ron opened the window to admit the unexpected owl. He was working in the Wheeze's office, trying to balance the books and was instead accosted by a nondescript brown owl. "Letter from Neville?" Ron unwrapped the twine from the owl's leg. "Need a rasher or a kip?" The owl hooted what sounded like a No. "It's from Neville. Does he need a reply?" Yet another hooting no.

"Wanna run on back then since Neville doesn't need anything else?" Ron reached out and let the owl come to him, stroking his head feathers gently before the owl took off again. He unrolled the length of parchment, using the readers on top of his head to scan the letter. Disappointment welled in his heart at first before pride shined. He had to go tell Hermione this straightaway, sod the books for an hour. He grabbed his dark blue cloak for the short walk to the Ministry. Taking the floo was too much hassle for a brisk fall morning. "George, I gotta run to the ministry. Back in a few." "Bring me back those shipping contract papers that Percy has for us, wouldya? Save a plonker the trip." Ron threw up a rude gesture while taking the twenty minute walk to the front of the Ministry. He needed the break anyway from the numbers swirling around his head this morning.

Through the toilets and through security, even with the bailiff who knew who he was and still checked him, in the lift down six floors to the Magical Law Enforcement offices, through the rows of desks for the bureaucracy known as the Ministry to Hermione's personal secretary Miranda Blunt. "Ah, Mr. Weasley. You're not on her agenda today so I assume it's important for her to see you immediately? Well she's using the Floo with her Italian counterpart on business so it will be a few." Ron smiled, knowing how important Miranda actually was to Hermione. Everyone thought she was just her secretary but only a chosen few - Harry, Hermione, Hemera, and Ron knew that Miranda was also her personal bodyguard at the office, after the few times anyone tried to breach the security of the department to get to her. "Tea, Mr. Weasley?" "Please." "Three sugars, spot of milk?" "I'd almost think you're related to Hermione with that mind of yours." "Nah, it's only for the important stuff. Husband's tea is important knowledge. And it's also a way for you to know it's really me." Ron gave her a lopsided smile while Miranda slipped into the secure office, returning a couple of minutes later with a small tray of tea and a couple packets of biscuits. "Your wife didn't know if you were peckish or not." "You spoil a bloke, you know that?" Ron tore the packet open and inhaled the contents. He'd missed breakfast this morning on account of other pleasant activities then fell back asleep, only waking fifteen minutes before he was due at the shop. Miranda went back to her seat and used the contraption Hermione got her last year, called a typewriter. They'd explained it to Ron that it was like writing on parchment but easier to read for those who had trouble reading so many varied scrips from people. Hermione had even gifted one to Arthur and he spent countless hours using it writing to his kids and grandkids. The door opened up a couple of minutes later and Hermione stood there, making a motion for Ron to come into her office. Ron followed her in and then he kicked the door shut and gave her a enthusiastic greeting, one that she never complained about before pulling back from his lips, her cheeks flushed and her eyes closed. "You rarely come to the office on a Wednesday so what gives?" "I got a letter from Neville this morning and thought you probably should hear it from me than from him if he sent you a letter, too." "Letter?" Hermione pulled her glasses up to the bridge of her nose, a faint imitation of McGonagall and scanned the parchment twice. "Detention! Two weeks! Rose Lavender Weasley, of all the people! Hexing two another students!" She looked at Ron and saw him smirking slightly. "You prat. There's a page two, isn't there?" "Of course there is," Ron handed it over and watched her frown turn to a grimace and eventually into a smile. "She takes after you, she does." Hermione looked up from the parchment and smiled. "You were always so good on speaking up for me and occasionally fighting my battles when I didn't realize there was one going on." Hermione went back to her desk and opened a drawer, pulling out a cup, pointed her wand at it and re-heated the black coffee, and took a long sip. "You must have zero nerves in your mouth," Ron muttered from his seat across the desk. "You get used to it," Hermione pulled out a length of parchment along with her eagle owl quill and inkpot. "Anything you want to add into the letter I will send off straightaway?" "Nah, she should hear from you first anyway," Ron knew he'd write a letter later today and send it off tomorrow morning so Rose would know how proud her dad was for her standing up for others. Hermione went to work writing and in short order, finished it and cleaned up the parchment with her quill. "I considered a howler but I refuse to do that to our child for any reason. I hated getting them when people thought I was toying around with guys during the Tri-wizard tournament. Besides, Neville has everything under control so I'm not upset too much over it." Ron recalled punching a certain git in the nose and smiled. "Who'd have thought that what started as bullying would turn into a trip for three of the bullies to the hospital ward with Hannah and two weeks detention for Rosie for hexing two students bullying Hugo and his friends, and blackening the eyes of the other two when they disarmed her. I don't think her having a broken hand for punching the boy in the nose was too far for her." "And Neville did say the boys pulled their wands first and she was disarmed." "I'm glad I taught her there's no shame in fighting unfairly when it's overwhelming odds." "I do hope there's no ongoing reprisals." Hermione looked at Ron and saw him shaking his head. "Nah, if I know any better, I'm sure the sods in question were told off privately to leave Hugo alone if they knew what was best for them." Hermione let out a stifled laugh. "What kind of idiot takes on a Rose when almost all of her cousins are present these terms? The only one who isn't' there is Teddy, Right?" Ron nodded. Hermione smiled slightly. "Sixth years and she's a third year, Ron." "She's as tall as many of the boys there, Hermione. It doesn't surprise me in the least. And if there are any further problems, Victorie would probably step in and put them in their rightful place, I reckon." Hermione picked up the parchment and scanned it one last time. "I think we do need to send a howler tomorrow." "Really? Why?" "One of the gits is Zacharias Smith's son and he said that “the only reason you weren’t expelled for this is because of your parents.”

Ron's eyes lit up. "Thinking what I'm thinking?" "I am."

Yet another demarcation line!

Rose tromped into breakfast, exhausted. She's been in detention with Professor Sinestra until one in the morning helping her sort maps and other useless rubbish. Hugo was the one who loved Astronomy and the stars. Only thing she wanted was to race around the Quidditch pitch and now she was banned for a fortnight, for standing up for those who needed protecting. It was so bloody unfair! James and Fred said she was brilliant for what she did and so did Molly and Scorpius. Al, being Al, laughed quietly when she said why she'd gotten detention. She looked up from her seat at the table, her friends with her in commiseration, and saw Zeb sitting across the way, scowling at her with two black eyes and a brace around his left wrist. Madame Abbot Longbottom said it was a small price for him to pay for being a bully on first years - that everyone in the school would know his shame. Owls swooped in, each dropping parcels for those who were present in the Great Hall. She glanced up and saw a tawny brown owl carrying a red envelope in it's talons. She felt the utter dread in the pit of her stomach.

Her parents sent her a howler. She knew she'd stepped in dragon dung if they were mad enough to send a howler. She felt the shame on her face and neck, a reminder to her that her Dad was the same way. She saw Professor Longbottom surreptitiously pull his wand from his robes, ready to silence it into oblivion if it got out of hand.

One last glance across the way and she saw Zeb Smith smirking, knowing how much trouble she was about to get into.

She took it in a shaking hand and tore the top off, hearing her Mum's tsking loudly. "Fuck," she said under her breath.

"Rose Lavender Granger, detention? Of all the things to get in trouble for, and you chose this," Hermione's voice droned loudly. She was shocked. Mom wasn’t yelling, well, no more than seemed usual. "We are so proud of you for standing up for the younger students. Who picks on first years minding their own business? What prat thinks so poorly of themselves that they'd berate first years for playing in the hallways between classes? " "Who tries to hex firsties?" Ron's voice interrupted. "Rude!" 

“Yes, it was very rude and you were right to intervene.” Hermione’s voice carried across the hall.

"We spoke with your head of house," Ron's voice bellowed, "and agree that the punishment fits the circumstances. Two weeks detention is adequate to us." "Sometimes the consequences are a fair price to pay." Hermione said.  "Serve your detentions knowing that we are proud of you for standing up for others who need protecting from bullies." "Love, Dad - " - and Mum." Rose released the breath she'd been holding entirely too long and looked across the way. Zeb was no longer at the table and neither were his three friends she'd put in the hospital wing fighting them like a Muggle.

#Dragon's Fics #Hpfic #Romione #Rose Weasley Granger #Ron Weasley #Hermione Granger #Hugo Granger-Weasley #OCs #Neville Longbottom #This ties into my fics from Romione FicFest #where Rose is a quidditch prodigy #and eventually has issues with Mum #But for this one things are still swimmingly good #tw: #tw: off page mentions of physical violence #tw: bullying references

[winter-fox-queen]

No Cheap Thrill

Thank you to @autumnleaves1991-blog for this awesome prompt, Writer Wednesdays are lovely!  Also, thanks to @hnt-escape for encouraging me to try.  The title is from one of my favorite Suzanne Vega songs, which uses poker playing as a clever theme.  “It’ll cost you, cost you maybe more than you can pay...”

Summary:  You are a thief trying to steal a prize off a steam ship during a themed poker weekend, but a certain Statesman Agent has other plans...

Some making out, the reader is in a dress and seems fairly feminine.  No names used so can be a reader insert.  Not re-read...I wrote it yesterday, got stuck, so I changed it a bit.  

I was not best pleased with the reflection the mirror showed me.  I looked like an extra from a Maverick movie, down to my lace covered cleavage and corset top.  The skirt was full, the sapphire and black colors of my clothes, down to the jet beading decorating on the sleeves screamed expensive and highly inaccurate 1800’s costume.  At least the full skirt hid my revolver (pearl handled, must stay in costume, right?) and some assorted odds and ends.

I was on a steam ship, a steam ship with a themed poker tournament – the prize was a diamond. The diamond wasn’t the real prize. The box, with its flash drive full of dirty little secrets was.  And that was what I wanted.  Not that I’d turn down the diamond.

Tonight was just practice. The main event would be tomorrow…but before the sun rose I intended to be far, far away from here.  I went into the parlor.  

I don’t want you to think I am easily distracted.  But the second I entered the room I made my first mistake.  I let my eyes longer for far too long on a man.  

Everyone there was in costume…but he was the only one here who carried it off.  Black cowboy hat, black frockcoat, tall black boots.  His vest was tawny colored, with a hit of copper in the brocade, and saved the outfit from being too cold.  Something about him hit me in the chest.  And, stupid as I was, I let myself forget who I really was.

He noticed me staring at him and he smirked at me, tipped his hat.  He looked so damned smug – he knew he looked good, blast him.  The voice of self preservation in my head told me to ignore him.

Instead, I did my best sashay over to the gaming tables, took a seat.

I looked up.  He was still looking at me, his gaze more speculative now.  I tilted my head towards the other empty chair, and smiled.

He put down his drink and accepted my invitation.  Settling into his chair he said, “I’m Jack Daniels, what’s your name, darlin’?”

“Darling works.  You have to earn more.”  I said, as the dealer started to lay out the cards.

He grinned, sensing a challenge.  “Well, then. Let’s  play.”

He had a casual way of playing.  I hoped he would be horrible at cards, careless.  He played with the ease of someone who’d been playing all his life.

Then I made my second mistake.

I got invested.

It was a combination of things.  The way he smiled at me, his eyes lazy as they worked down my cleavage and back up. I felt the weight of his gaze like a caress, on the back of my neck, tracing my collarbone…Those dark eyes made me feel like I was melting from the inside out.  It as also the way his large hands held the cards. The way they flipped chips into the pile in the middle of the table.  Oddly graceful.  I never thought I’d ever be jealous of a stack of cardboard, but there you are.

I also liked the way his eyes crinkled, the way he praised me when I had a better hand.  It was so damned good natured.

Sexy without being sleezy. He had a sweetness to him, but also an edge.  Sometimes I would look at him and think his gaze was more sharp than it should be, but he covered it up with that good ol boy act of his.  And I found myself wanting to believe that he really did think I was that attractive.

Finally, it was just us.

“You gonna call, darlin?”

I stared at my hand. A full house.  Not much beats a full house, and I could get my money back, maybe a little of my dignity.  Jack had twisted me around his fingers and then led me to my destruction.  “I don’t…I don’t have anything left.”

He gave me another one of those looks, the kind I could feel burning my skin.  “I wouldn’t say that.”  I blushed like a virgin.

“Still.”

“Your earrings.  Toss those in.”

I took them out and threw them in.

He looked at his cards. I held my breath.  

He dropped his cards with a flourish.  Aces and eights.  

A full house, like mine.

But mine was king high. “You won.”  I said softly.

He stood up, took the earrings off the pile.  “Nice meeting you, darling.”  And left. Someone asked about the pot sitting in the middle of the table.  “Let her have it,” he said, as he worked through the crowd.  

I wanted to get up and rush after him.  But I stayed, tipped the dealer, made arrangements for my winnings.  Use the opportunity to follow the chips back to the saferoom, scope out what I could.

I took off my choker, and placed it with my chips.  “Do you mind locking this up, too?”  It had a nice sapphire on it, but wasn’t really worth much, but the banker smiled and did as I asked.  

Jack had accidentally made the next step of my plan easy.  I walked back towards my stateroom.  The necklace had a tiny sensor and camera installed.  I could pull up a lot of data on my phone, data that would…

A hand grabbed me by my upper arm, and I was pushed back against a wall.

“Jack.”  I was ashamed how relived I sounded.  Perhaps I shouldn’t have been…we were alone in a side corridor, and unlikely to be disturbed.  His eyes looked far more dangerous than warm.  His arms caged me on either side.  Something told me it would not be wise to run.

“Good evening darlin’. Did you get a good look in the saferoom yet?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

He grinned at me, mirthless. “You’re a beautiful woman with a rather unfortunate hobby.  Do you really think I don’t know who you are? We were told someone would come for the diamond…”

I looked him in the eyes and cupped his face gently.  “I’m not here for the diamond.”

“Then why are you here?”

I pulled him a little closer.  “Why don’t you tell me, Mr. Daniels?  Maybe I’m here to distract you.”

He reached into his pocket. I felt a tug on my ear, his fingers traced their way down my neck.  I realized he’d put one of the earrings back into my ears, his touch like a ghost’s.  

“Consider me distracted.” He whispered, kissing the other side of my neck, firm enough that his moustache didn’t tickle.  I felt an ache, deep and longing, start to build.  His hand rested on my waist, his other hand coming up to replace the other earring.  

“We can do this one of two ways, sweet thing,” he drawled softly on my ear, then kissed along my jaw line, just stopping short of my lips.  I kept staring at his lips, wondering what they’d feel like on mine. Part of me felt angry, yelling in the back of my head for acting like this, lust struck over some cowboy.

“Does one of them involve you kissing me?”

He grinned a little, “It could.  Let’s see…” And he kissed me.  Gentle at first, then deeper.  I fisted his jacket labels in my hands.  

He pulled away, took my chin in one of his hands, and looked me in the eyes.  “Don’t make me do what I’ll have to, if you go back for the diamond.” He paused, and then, soft, heartfelt. “Please.”

My jaw dropped a little, and I said, moved to honesty, “The flash drive…it’s got…”

“There is no flash drive.” He said softly, dropping his hand away.

I felt the blood drain out of my face.  “The whole thing was a trap.”  I said, dully.  

“My friends picked up three other like minded souls already.  A couple more less savory characters are due in tomorrow.  I’ve read your file.  You ain’t like them, darlin.  Not yet.”

“I’m a thief.  I said with a spark of – alright, yes, misplaced – pride.  

He leaned against the wall next to me.  “And a damned good one, stealing things back for people who can’t get them back otherwise, stealing blackmail back…you’ve never actively hurt anyone.”  He paused.  “Yet.”

“Yet.”  I said softly.  

He leaned in close.  “I have a proposition for you, pretty thing.”

I hugged myself.  “What?”

His lips were so close to my ear I could feel the heat of his breath.  “Ever hear of the Statesmen?”

#agent whiskey #jack daniels x you #jack daniels x female reader #writer wednesday #fan fic

[ophelialoveshandsomemen]

Hiya Honeybee...

  Werebear!Dean x femReader

 A/N’s. This is my contribution to the awesome @deanwanddamons 1st blogversary and 2K followers challenge. My quote was Gone with the Wind’s - “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.” Well, here goes nothing!

Extra author’s note. I had to reblog this again “cuz I did the tagging in the author’s notes wrong...sigh...I hate tumblr sometimes...

Summary. For a little context, Dean, instead of dying in the finale, is bit by a were-bear( think Beorn the Shapeshifter from The Hobbit.) And he decides to move to southern Yukon. He’s not so much dangerous as peculiar I guess, and a bit understandably awkward around crowds. The only specifics for Reader is: female, likes living in the woods, likes honey, and is relatively capable of long walks. That’s it. Oh and cooking/baking. So if you ain’t good at that, pretend you are for the sake of the oneshot. ;)

 Warnings are as follows. Dean is a bear. Dean is a woodcutter. One f-bomb. One damn. A lot of fluff. A lot of cozy things mentioned. One kiss... plus another one! There is no weird bestiality/exophilia stuff going on, despite the title. 

****************************************************************************************

 Dean remembers the day he met her. The sun shone down thru the trees like a blasting fireball, the birds were a chirpin' like mad and there were a lot of bees. Probably a bajillion more than he's ever seen in these parts at one time. In hindsight, the bees were definitely all her fault. That's why he calls her his Honeybee...

 He was walking towards the glade of trees on the edge of his property where he sources the wood for his carvings. As he neared his destination, he heard soft, hummed notes traversing the wind from a tiny, dandelion wrought meadow just to his right. He stopped and turned his head. Through the rows of birch and juniper trees, he caught sight of a beautiful, barefoot woman happily constructing a straw bee skep. In the middle of a field of bee hives and bee skeps. She hummed oldies as she concentrated on her task, sunlight gleaming off her gorgeous hair. A shiver had coursed through his spine, giving Dean the impression that he was trespassing on a moment not meant for him. Then the woman lifted her head, her eyes  captured his and she'd smiled. The rest as they say, was history.

******************************************************************************************

 She remembers the day Dean told her of his past. They'd gotten close over the course of about 7 months. Then, one night as they walked hand in hand under the aurora borealis in the dead of winter, she'd held her breath, pulled him in by the nape of his neck and thoroughly kissed him. Cold noses, frosted eyelashes, bulky wool toques and all. The next morning, he'd knocked on her door, a thermos of hot coffee in hand and a slightly worried frown gracing his features.

"We need to talk." He whispered.

   Sitting down in front of the lit fireplace on a pile of old wool and flannel blankets, he'd told her everything. His rough childhood, life as a monster hunter, a passing comment was made towards stopping an apocalypse or ten. And how, on his very last hunt, he'd been bit by a fucking were-bear. Something neither he nor his brother even knew existed. That was why he'd moved to the Yukon, not a lot of people to be bothered by him. Lots of wilderness to hide in when he feels the need to shift into a bear. She'd sat there, unsure how to respond, confusion and tears marring her eyes. When he finished, she wiped her face clean with the long, cotton sleeves of her shirt. She lifted her eyes to level with his.

'Dean isn't lying to me.' The thought was at the forefront of her mind.

 Eventually, after some thinking and a bit of hugging, she'd asked Dean for a little time and space. She needed to get her thoughts and feelings together. Go over all he'd told her. Dean seemed hurt, but he left before she could properly clarify her need.

  ******************************************************************************

 Two days later, she made up her mind. Dean wasn't dangerous, merely uncomfortable around large amounts of people. Dean would never hurt her, he himself told her he's basically a domestic bear. So, she decided to keep him. To love him. To cherish him. And she knew just what to do to let him know.

*********************************************************************************

 The moose and the fish burgers were staying warm in the cast iron dutch oven by the fire, the lingonberry and blueberry pie resting on the stone floor beside it and finishing the party was the hot mulled cider in the cowboy coffee pot swinging over the flames. VHS copies of old time movies lay strewn in front of the antique tv nestled away in the corner. Now all she needed was her man. To whom she owed a tiny explanation.

******************************************************************************

 The walk to Dean's cabin is spiked by the chill in the air, only marginally softened by the meagre warmth from the setting sun. She isn't sure if it helps or hinders her rapid beating heart.

******************************************************************************

 Dean isn't too difficult to find. Especially since he's in bear form, all sandy brown with sun-kissed tips. Staring at the setting sun.

  "Dean." She calls out.

  He gently turns towards her.

" I made supper. Want some?"

 The tall, tawny bear lumbered over to her. He sat down before her, more like a dog than a 13 ft bear, and lifted his head. She saw that this truly is Dean, for even if the rest of his appearances changed, his eyes remain the same.

  " I want you to." She whispered. Then added a smile, just for Dean.

  He nods, and walks into the cabin.

 She's left confused for a minute. Before seeing Dean in human form saunter from the cabin's front porch all bundled up and ready to go.

   She can't help herself anymore and throws all caution to the wind...and herself in Dean's arms. The kiss that immediately follows may be taking a little longer than appropriate, but she knows that neither one of them minds in the slightest.

  ******************************************************************************

"I am so sorry if I hurt you. With the way that I reacted to your revelation. I just needed some time to think, that's all! Please, forgive me." She sighs and buries her nose in his coat, gripping his shoulders for dear life and clinging to his woodsy scent.

  " I don't think I can live without my heart." She croaks out , barely above a whisper.

 Dean tightens his hold on her. His nose snuffling her honey-scented hair, he gently replies. " Course I forgive you Honeybee. 'Cuz I can't live without mine either."

She makes a noise which is something between a sob, a breathless laugh and a thank-you all at once.

  And promptly starts coughing after she inhales one of Dean's bear hairs.

Dean chuckles for a moment or two. " You all good there Honeybee? Can't have you passing out on me!"

"Well it feels like I inhaled a fur ball so I might need a minute!" He sombres up.

  "Sorry 'bout all the hair you're gonna have to deal with." He grins. "Especially since you're stuck with me now!"

She snorts. Then sweetly kisses his nose.

"Frankly, my dear," she hovers over his lips," I don't give a damn."

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester lives in the woods #werebear!dean #deanwanddamons2kcelebration

[girlwithacrown]

Wolfstar Archeology

So I did some digging

There is this super awesome fanfic “Not Ever” and I wanted to read some more of the same author, but it is an orphan account on AO3, so I did some small digging and found out that the account was actually hacked and everything was orphaned, there is a LadyFaceElena Masterlist.

As far as I understood, after the hack they published under the name angryspaceravenclaw, nowadays the account’s fics are also orphaned and the tumblr angry-space-ravenclaw is empty, but there is also a Wolfstar fics published under angryspaceravenclaw and LadyFaceElena: Masterlist 1 and Masterlist 2 (all pairings)

some Wolstar fics published under LadyFaceElena:

Loved In Spite of Ourselves (LONG, 170k, not complete)

"It began with four boys, and one compartment." Spanning across time, through the first war, and into the second.   The years were both kind and cruel for ones called Marauders, and for ones who came after.  But they knew friendship, and sorrow, and love, and joy.  And sometimes it was only things things which allowed them to survive--if that's all they could do.  Survive.

Artists and Moonlight (series, 20k, not complete)

Remus Lupin isn't sure what to make of his new flatshare situation.   He's a quiet student with a past, who doesn't date and is determined to keep it that way.  Then he meets his artist flatmate, Sirius Black and his entire world is turned upside down.

There Were Strangers Watching (6k, complete)

Sirius is determined that Remus have some fun before they begin University, so using the money his uncle left him in the will, he drags Remus off to Las Vegas.  Determined to have fun, the boys explore the city, have a few drinks, and wake up...married?  It would all be fun and games if Remus Lupin hadn't been madly in love with Sirius Black for almost five long years.

Tumblr Trash (series, 35k, not complete)

Padfoot and Moony meet over mutual follows on Tumblr.  Remus, the blind student, hires Sirius, the fallen Aristocrat, to be a reader for his classes.  They fall in love in separate ways, and fall apart.  Then fall together.  Their love is almost as ridiculous as they are.

WolfStar (series, 45k, not complete)

Two worlds collide.  Deaf artist Sirius Black works at his best mate's cafe.  Remus Lupin is an epileptic student from France who is just looking to get by unnoticed.  But the artist sees something he wants in the shy boy, and makes it his mission to see what makes Remus tick.

Fiery-Coloured World (3k, complete)

Sirius knew it would be minutes, moments, seconds before his heart told him he was in love and there was no going back from the emotional tidal wave that was Remus bloody Lupin.

Finally Found My Hallelujah (15k, complete)

Remus Lupin had always been good at sorting out dates and special occasions for people, which is why his best friend and Quidditch star, James Potter, talked him into wedding planning once they left Hogwarts. He lived a solitary, but happy life.  That is, until King Slytherin, Sirius Black, strolls into his office and asks for help planning his arranged marriage.  Remus Lupin is nothing if not a professional, but it's not easy when the groom-to-be was the man Remus had been fantasising about since fifth year.

Remember Me (5k, complete)

Remus Lupin was having an Ordinary Tuesday.  That is, until a strange boy grabs him and offers him money to play the boyfriend.  Remus thinks it will all be fine, until he's pulled into Number 12 Grimmauld place, and finds himself swept away by Sirius O. Black.

Forever (20k, complete)

Sirius Black--CoDA, outcast, family disappointment, and fairly famous  YouTuber who runs a sign language channel SiriuslySigns with his best mate, James.  Remus Lupin-- vegan hipster who dropped out of University and lives with his best mate Peter, and together run HowlingMoon's DIY, barmy science experiments, and ukulele tutorials channel.  When Sirius becomes enamoured with Moony's singing, he dedicates a sign tutorial in hopes he'll be noticed.  This leads to exchanging of shout-outs and videos, and what Sirius hopes, is a little something more.

Far Away the Stars (36k, complete)

“Oh hell, what a pair we make,” Remus said, and Sirius threw his head back and laughed.“Truest statement I’ve heard in a long time.”  Sirius bowed his head.  “I don’t care about people easily.  But you’re like a fucking tidal wave, Moony.  You just short of showed up and swept me away and I gave up trying to fight it.”Remus fought back the urge to grab him and pull him down and just have him right there because they hadn’t got that far yet.  “And here I thought you just didn’t like me.  Who knew?”

Aging Gracelessly (13k, complete) 

Remus is being dragged into the modern century by his son in the form of a brand-new smartphone.  He means to text Teddy, and ends up accidentally meeting, and sharing his plight with another person in the same boat as him.  Though Remus thinks it's just a passing moment, little does he know what wheels have been set in motion.

Forever is Definitely Punk Rock (9k, complete)

When Remus Lupin met Sirius Black for the first time, he very nearly killed him.  Now, it wasn’t entirely his fault, something he would maintain for the rest of his life, and Sirius being as dramatic as he was would often remind the taller, tawny-haired man of his very harrowing near-death experience at the front bumper of his car.

#Wolfstar archaeology #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #i did some digging

[kawaii-kozume]

Ocean Eyes

Rated G. Soldezangelo. 4261 Words.

"Hey, Harley? Have you seen Graham?" Leo Valdez was currently undertaking the worst task in the shelter: Cleaning the cages. He swore he latched the cat carrier that contained their most wily of their cats but now that he was ready to put the cat back, the carrier was open and said cat was nowhere in sight.

"I saw him chasing something in the back room. Why?" The younger boy turned to Leo, holding a stack of newspapers he was going to hand off to Leo.

“Uhh, he’s not in the back room. I was just in there.” Nyssa twisted her body around Leo and something floated above his head. He glanced up and saw a container of cat food floating above him.

“So, Graham’s missing again.” Leo stated. He loved being able to work with his siblings, but sometimes they seemed to have low awareness of what’s going on. “I’ll head out to find him.”

“He can’t have gone far. Take some flyers.” Nyssa called back from further up the line of cages.

"Oh, yeah!” Leo said. He threw on his jacket and popped into the back room to pick up pre-printed Have you seen this cat? flyers. Honestly, Graham just needed to find a home already. Leo's been told he's been there for forever. He would absolutely volunteer for him, but his mother would kill him if he brought another cat home. It was already difficult enough to remember the three they already had. He walked into the coffee shop next door and asked the patrons if they’d seen a sandy bengal/manx cat on the streets. They shook their heads and Leo moved on. He finally found someone who'd seen the cat. It was a girl with red hair, around his age standing at a flower booth.

“That looks like the little guy I saw down by the pier. He wasn’t on it though, just hanging out at the start of it.” She said. She watched him not unkindly. Leo’s eyes widened. Why the hell was this cat like this? He’s been found by the shoreline so much Leo needs to make a note to just start looking there.

"Awesome! Thank you so much!" Leo called already sprinting off towards the beginning of the beach. He chucked his shoes off to the side and started wandering around asking people about Graham.

"He was down that way a little."

"Oh yeah! He chased after a seagull a couple minutes ago. Down that way."

"A young man around your age picked him up and started walking with him. He's blond and was walking with another man." An older man said. Leo was stunned. Who would pick up a random cat?

"Which direction did they start walking?" Leo asked. The man pointed north.

"Thank you." Leo was off trying to find these people, which in hindsight, Leo probably should have asked for more details on the two. He was starting to lose hope with the sun beating down on him when he saw a tawny tail flick out from under someone's arm. Leo walked up and tapped the stranger's shoulder.

"Hi there, sorry to bother you, but I think you found my cat." He started. "I can take him back to the shelter now and be out of your hair."

Leo was prepared to receive a cat, apologize and leave, grumbling to the same cat as he walked back across the beach to his shoes and back to the shelter. Leo was very much unprepared for the stranger to turn around, cradling Graham like a baby. He was also unprepared for how attractive the stranger was. He had bright blue eyes and freckles splattered across his nose and cheeks. His smile was warm and open. Leo nearly took a step back.

"Hi, sorry for scooping him up. I was a little worried about him being so close to the water." The stranger said.

"Oh, um, it's okay." Leo just wanted to grab the cat and leave. This was getting awkward for him.

"He's cute. You said he's a shelter?" Another person walked up to their conversation. This must've been the other one the man mentioned.

"Uh, yeah." Oh gods . Leo thought. The new man was also really attractive. His dark eyes glittered with a hint of mischief and Leo wanted to run away from anything that could happen. He had his dark hair in a low ponytail to stay out of his face from the wind off the waves. Leo watched as the dark haired man held up a popsicle to the blond and the blond took it without letting go of the cat.

“What’s his name?”

“The cat’s?” Leo asked. The blond smiled around his popsicle and reached up to take it out of his mouth.

“Well, I think Neeks was asking me for yours, but the cat’s will do too.” He said. Leo felt his cheeks heat up. Was Blondie flirting with him?

“The cat’s name is Graham Cracker, or Graham for short.” Leo flipped on his charm with a smile. “I’m Leo.”

“Nice to meet you, Leo. I’m Will. This is my boyfriend, Nico.” Will held the cat out to Nico who accepted him with barely hidden excitement. Leo had an internal panic. He flirted with a taken man? Oh gods, it’s just his luck. How in the world was it fair that they were both so stupidly nice looking and they look even better next to each other? To be fair to them, he wouldn't remember them in the morning so really is it so bad?

“And it’s a pleasure to meet you, Graham.” Nico cooed at the cat. Will glanced over and watched with fondness. Leo decided it was time to move along and get back to the shelter, mostly to escape this awkward situation.

“Well, um, I gotta get back to the shelter.” Leo held out a hand towards Nico for the cat. Nico looked up with a small frown. His glittering eyes dulled for a moment as he handed the cat over to Leo.

“Hey, our friends are having a party here tonight. Would you wanna, come hang out?” Will asked. Nico leaned into him and watched Leo with interest.

“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t do parties, really.” Graham squirmed in Leo’s arms, trying to escape again.

“No pressure, but the offer stands.” Will and Nico walked off, continuing along the shoreline as Leo turned around to go the other way.

“You are one difficult, little cat. Why’d you have to go for the most attractive people on the beach?” Leo scolded the cat affectionately the entire way back to the shelter. He tried to focus on helping customers and his siblings, but he couldn’t shake the invite out of his head. Maybe he’d go, just to say he tried.

***

The sun was setting on the horizon as Leo locked up the shelter. Harley and Nyssa had begun walking home but not before Harley gave Leo a tight hug and Nyssa turned on location sharing for both hers and Leo's phone.

"I'll be okay, promise, mi hermana. And I'll be home before 2." Leo had reassured his sister before they left. He pulled his windbreaker closer to him as he got closer to the sea. He saw the party before he got close enough to be noticed.

There was a fairly large group of people hanging around a lit bonfire. Some were a short distance away passing a volleyball back and forth, some were passing drinks around and some had set up a folding table for beer pong. Leo looked around, trying to see if his acquaintances were already there, but he couldn't see them. Before he could leave though, a familiar redhead came up to him.

"Oh hey! You're the cat guy, right? Did you find him?" She asked. Leo reached into his pocket for his wire before answering.

"Yeah! Thanks for pointing me towards the beach. Some people held onto him before I could get him." Leo explained. His hands worked on twisting the cool wire and he waited for the woman to move on to someone else.

"Are you here for the party? I didn't know we had mutual friends." She gave a soft chuckle. Well, shit, now what does Leo say?

"Oh, um," Before Leo was able to make a fool of himself, someone let their hand fall on his shoulder.

"Hey, Rachel. This is Leo. He's new around our scene. Neeks and I ran into him today and invited him." Will had appeared next to Leo like a saving angel. Rachel's smile grew at Leo.

"Awesome! Well, I'm headed off to find Annabeth." She nodded to Leo and then turned around, heading towards the group with the volleyball.

"Sorry we're late. Getting this one to come out is like pulling teeth, even if it's a party with our friends." Will shot a look to Nico, who rolled his eyes and scanned the crowd.

"There's a lot of people here." Leo stated.

"Yeah, our friend group is more like an extended family. Makes holidays hectic, but fun as hell. Hang with us and we'll introduce you to people as we go." Will said. Nico had made his way to one of the coolers and lifted a bottle towards Will and Leo.

"You want a drink?" Will asked.

"Um, how bout an ice?" Leo replied.

Will nodded then moved his hands around, catching Leo's attention. He must've looked confused because when Will turned back to Leo, he let out a warm laugh.

"Sign language. It's easier in large groups like this, and if anyone goes nonverbal, or has hearing problems, I can still communicate with them." Will explained. He started walking further into the party area as Leo followed.

"Goes nonverbal?" Leo asked. He had an idea what Will meant but he wanted to make sure before assuming. Nico got back with three open bottles and handed them off to the other two.

"Well, a good portion of our group is neurodivergent. It's not a bad thing, just means we adapt how we interact sometimes. Sometimes when we get overwhelmed, our brains don't form sentences well or we have problems verbalizing, sign language kind of cuts out having to put sound out." Will explained. It made sense to Leo. Sometimes Harley would go through a shut down and it sounded like what Will was saying.

"Plus he's premed so he's better off learning sign language anyways." Nico added. Will looked away, pink coming up to his cheeks.

"Dude, you're premed? Good shit, you gotta be like, super smart." Leo blurted. He regained composure after seeing Nico's expression. It was an amused one that used the unsettling, mischievous eyes.

"Yeah, it's- I mean, it's not a big deal. I'm just trying to do what I can." Will was intentionally downplaying the situation and Leo let him.

"C'mon, I wanna watch Percy wipe the floor with Jason." Nico said, grabbing Leo's wrist. He started walking towards the game of beach volleyball. More people had shown up and apparently someone brought a portable net.

Leo glanced back to see Will talking to someone else. He did look over at Leo and Nico, though. There was something in his gaze that Leo couldn't explain. Maybe longing? But that was dumb, why didn't he just come with Nico if he wanted to be with him? Nico stopped in front of him and sat down in the sand next to Rachel and two other girls, one blond and one brunette.

"Hey guys, how are the teams split and who's winning?" Nico asked. Leo, deciding not to worry about introductions right now, let his gaze move to the court. There were three guys and a girl all hovering around the middle of the net. They seemed to be negotiating rules.

"Jason and Thalia versus Percy and Frank." The blond replied. Nico perked up when the blond mentioned Frank. Leo watched him turn to scan the crowd.

"Frank's here? Is Hazel?" He asked, obviously excited to talk to Hazel.

"Yeah, I think she's around somewhere." The brunette answered.

"Nice." Nico murmured to himself.

"So, you gonna introduce us to your friend?" The brunette asked, eyeing Leo. Leo tried to look friendly and smiled at her.

"Ah, this is Leo. Will and I met him earlier today. He's tagging along tonight." Nico explained. "Leo, this is Annabeth and Piper."

The blond, Annabeth, smiled back at Leo, but it didn't quite meet her eyes.

"Nice to meet you." She said. Leo noticed the other girl was looking away from him. Annabeth elbowed her. She turned to face Leo and gave him a wobbly smile.

"Sorry about her, she gets really emotional over her friends." Annabeth said. "She loves getting new friends as a result."

"Oh, awesome! I also love getting new friends." Leo felt like it was best to not explain that each friend was a new one to him.

"Oh! They're starting!" Annabeth said. "Good luck, Percy!"

"Go Thals!!" Piper shouted. Leo took a sip of his drink.

"Who are you rooting for?" Leo asked. He watched who he assumed was Percy toss the volleyball up and hit it over the net to start the game.

"Percy and Frank. Always do." Nico replied. "Percy's a good friend of mine and Frank is Hazel's boyfriend."

Nico talked as if Leo was supposed to know who Hazel was but he was sure he'd never met a Hazel in his life. Unless these people were his friends? But if they were friends then why didn't Nyssa or his mom mention them? He wouldn't have had friends. If he did, they'd have left by now.

"Who's-?" Before Leo could finish talking, another girl with dark skin and eyes that glittered with mischief sat down next to him.

"Hey, Neeks." She said. Neeks seemed to be a nickname for Nico but only people he was really close with. Nico reached around Leo and tapped the bottle she was holding with his.

"I was wondering where you were." Now Leo wasn't usually an easily irritated person, but this was the third person at this party who showed up and Nico hadn't offered him and introduction. So Leo decided to do it himself.

"Hi there, the name's Leo. And what precious name fits a precious lady like you?" He asked. He did pretty well if he said so himself. It must have worked because the girl ducked her head as if she were shy.

"Hi Leo, I'm Hazel. I'm Nico's sister." She said with a lilt in her voice as if she was laughing. Leo froze. Man, he freezes a lot around this group. He glanced at Nico who was giving him a borderline dangerous look.

"Oh damn, I'm sorry. I didn't-" Leo started to apologize.

"No, don't worry about it. How would you have known?" She said. "This is our first time meeting, after all." She seemed sad with that fact.

"Yeah, of course. I'm gonna, um," Leo fumbled, trying to find the right words that didn't make it sound like he was moving in on Will. "I'm gonna go see where Will went."

Leo got up without checking to see how Nico took it. He walked around the bonfire in search of the blond, taking sips of his drink while he did. He hadn't had much to eat today so he felt a pleasant hum in his arms as he finally found Will, chatting with a couple of people.

"Hey, Will. Wondered where you'd gotten to." Leo said, resting a hand on Will's shoulder to steady himself.

"Oh, hey, Leo." Will wrapped an arm around Leo's waist to help him stay steady. "Leo, this is Grover and Juniper. They're some childhood friends of mine."

Leo smiled and nodded at them but was hyper aware of the heat coming off of Will's arm against his back. What would Nico think? Is this normal for Will? To prop up strangers he just met? What if after tonight they never talk to him again?

"Hey, Sunshine, heads up." Nico's voice came from somewhere on Will's left and at the same time, Leo wriggled out of Will's clutches. He felt bad about everything and was debating on going home. But when he got the nerve to look at Nico, the other looked away with an expression so haunting, Leo wished he could sleep right now so he'd forget it.

Nico looked like a man who'd been through a lot and lost something extremely important to him. And he was looking at Leo with that expression. Leo spent a couple more minutes standing with Will, Grover, Juniper and Nico but he was starting to get itchy. Not physically but mentally. Like, he was so close to remembering something important. It was the same feeling when he remembered his own name the first time. Then when he remembered his siblings. But this seemed much more intense. He knew he must have been frowning but he wandered away from the group, walking through couples by the fire, past the table where the ping pong balls were landing in the sand more and more as the night went on and past the interim volleyball court where he watched Jason spike the ball into the sand on the other side. There was something, comforting about all of this. Like this was a safe haven for him. But he couldn't place why.

He glanced back to Nico and Will. Something about them was inviting from the start. Since he tapped on Will's shoulder, he'd started feeling this sense of security. Nico turned back and locked eyes with him. Leo gasped softly, concerned he was really overstepping. He considered running as Nico excused himself and made his way over to Leo who's heels were being lapped at by the water. Leo turned around to face outward towards the moonlit horizon.

"You're starting to remember something, aren't you?" Nico asked, soft enough he couldn't wake an owl. Leo's head whipped to look at him.

"You- I- We- Uh, wait." Leo stuttered. He took a breath to organize his thoughts as best he could.

"You do know me. How? And why didn't you say anything sooner?" Leo asked, starting to become upset. If Nico knew him, why didn't he say something? Or Will for that matter? Wait, what if the reason was that Leo himself had dated one of them before the accident.

"We don't say anything because we all decided it would be best for you to not have to feel pressured into a relationship you have no recollection of. We want you to have the best healing process possible." Nico told the ocean. He had yet to look at Leo.

"So you know then? About the accident, about my memory, about everything?" Leo asked. Nico took a shaky breath.

"Everyone here knows about the accident. This was your family before the explosion." Nico said. Leo shook his head then fell back into the sand. The water continued to lap over his feet.

"I want to know everything. About you. About our friends. About our situation." Leo sighed. He hated this. He hated knowing but not quite knowing. He knew Nico was special. But so was Will. And he didn't understand.

Nico flopped down next to him and continued to stare out at the sea. "Well, after you woke up and didn't recognize your mother, she told Will and I. We came rushing to you as soon as possible. When we walked in, you didn't recognize us either. The doctors told us you had short term memory loss but they said it could be possible that you recover. Something about the neurons being resilient and reforming. But until then, you'd wake up each day and not remember anything." Leo tried not to watch the tear running down Nico's cheek.

"The first day, we were there as soon as you woke up. But five people hovering over you freaked you out. So the next day, Will and I met you at the shelter and explained who we were to you."

"And who is that?" Leo asked, almost afraid of the answer. Nico got a pained look on his face.

"I don't want to tell you. It's difficult, alright? Maybe by the end of the night." Nico didn't look at Leo. In his peripheral, Leo registered that Will was walking over to the two.

"Anyways, in doing so, we kind of scared you away. You got skittish when you saw us that day. That's when we decided not to mention it." Nico continued. Will had sat on the other side of Leo.

"But, we still wanted to see you. So we had to get creative about it. First two weeks, we came in and pretended to be looking at adopting a cat. Graham Cracker, specifically. Which isn't a lie, we love Graham, but he serves a different purpose now. The next couple weeks we'd see you on your lunch break and invite you to hang out that night. Always our friends are having a party, join us kind of invite." Will and Nico were trading off explaining and Leo was taking it all in.

"So we learned you liked being invited out more and more. Then you remembered Harley and Nyssa. Our hope grew. We hatched a plan with Harley. Every morning, Harley would leave Graham's cage open. He'd escape and we would 'find' him and keep him safe until you showed up." Nico smiled at Leo now.

"Then, we'd invite you to the nightly party." Will finished.

"So, wait, you guys do this nightly?" Leo asked, looking back at the group.

"Well, yeah. Everybody wants to hang out with you, but they don't wanna scare you. So we have nightly parties, we get you down here, and there's a rotation of who gets most of your attention. Like Nico's probably said: This is your family."

Leo sat in silence for a while and the other two just sat with him. Everyone knowing him and being his friend would explain why he felt so content with them all. He still wasn't sure about Will and Nico. He knew they weren't like the others but he couldn't let himself believe that it was like that .

"So say I believe you, what do I do now?" He asked eventually. Will sat up from where he was laying in the sand.

"That depends, what do you want to do now?" He asked. Leo looked out to the ocean. The cold water sounded like it could shock his system and help.

"I wanna go for a swim." Leo said before getting up and shedding his windbreaker, shirt then his shorts until he was down to his boxers. He ran into the surf, ignoring Nico's calls. He was right, the water was freezing. And it did shock his system until all he could think about was the cold. He felt someone come up behind him and he turned around, coming face to face with Nico.

"Th-this water is f-f-freezing. C'mon." Nico's teeth clacked together and all in one moment, Leo remembered what it was like to kiss him. His lips, soft from overuse of chapstick and his dark eyes hiding behind closed eyelids. Leo knew he probably shouldn't have given in, but in that one moment, he wanted nothing more than to feel those feelings again. He grabbed the back of Nico's neck and pressed his lips to Nico's, startling the other man. But kissing for them was as easy as breathing. Nico sighed and Leo felt like he was closer to being whole than he had all day. When they pulled apart, Nico had a soft smile on his face.

"Will's gonna be jealous I was first tonight. You've kissed me first every night for the last two weeks." Nico whispered, barely audible over the waves. "C'mon, you're gonna get hypothermia."

Leo, for his part, was a bit overwhelmed. Did Nico say first?

"Did you say first?" Leo asked as Nico dragged him out of the water by his wrist. Will was standing by the shoreline with two towels. How he knew Leo was going to do this was beyond Leo, but he was prepared.

"Yeah, first. Leo, you're our boyfriend. We don't like to tell you unless you instigate or say something first." Nico said. Leo allowed Will to wrap the towel around his shoulders. He looked up at the blond and grinned.

"How did I manage to score not one, but two incredibly sexy boyfriends?" Neither answered but Leo didn't need an answer, really. He just wanted to try and fluster them.

"So, can I kiss you now?" He asked Will. Will seemed shocked but before he could say yes, Leo was already leaning up, pressed against him and meeting his lips. It was quick and soft, but enough that Leo remembered a garage with a guitar in it. He laughed.

"You're a musician. Premed and a musician. Is there anything you can't do?" Leo laughed. His smile faded though as he fully processed their relationship.

"How many times have I not come back to you two?" Leo asked, afraid to hear the answer. Will pulled him forward and held him to his chest. Nico leaned on Leo's back and let Will speak. His voice rumbled through Leo's head as he said the best words in Leo's life.

"Every single day since the accident, you've always come home to us. And we'll continue to fight for you to remember it."

#pjo #soldezangelo #sam writes

[talkativelock]

Hey Awesome Taco! I'm gonna be completely real here, I didn't send asks for a bit because I was still suffering and I thought I'd get back to it when I'm better, but I'm still not better so who knows, pal. Anyway, I read Guardians of the Galaxy as Guardians of Ga'hoole for some reason and tried so hard to remember the raccoon in that movie about owls, haha. Can I ask what Dory's favorite bear is? And your favorite owl? Mine are the Andean bear and the spectacled owl. Have a great day!

Hello my awesome friend~ I’m sorry that you’re struggling. I hope things get better soon. I believe in you!

Dory says he loves all bears, then I got a short list of bear hot takes, and then he said that if I’m forcing him to choose a bear he chooses black bear. I, similarly, love basically all owls but one of my favorites is the long-eared owl because they have adorably goofy faces and another is the spotted owl because their wings are so beautiful. I also love myself a classic tawny owl...

I once met a blind elf owl at a zoo on a school field trip. She was beautiful and had a really good temperament and she let us carefully pet her (pretty rare for an owl!) while her keeper held her. She was trained to play special games for exercise because she was blind. I wanted to take her home even tho it’s illegal to have a pet owl.

Stay safe, my dearest and most awesome friend. I love you~

#lock talks back #awesome is as awesome does #i found this funny owl gif i hope it brings you a smile #look how cute!!! #Anonymous

[siriuslyblack12]

chapter 6

Remus woke with a start, his alarm ringing loudly through the room. The sound brought him abruptly from a deep sleep, his mind not quite conscious as he saw a text notification.

 Pads: morning handsome ;))

 Moons: morning

 Pads: can I walk you to school?

 Images from the day before flashed through his mind and he briefly thought he was dreaming. It wasn’t the memory of Sirius’s lips on his own that delighted him the most, though of course that did, rather the emotion and beating of his heart. He was truly happy; having to pinch himself to contain it.

 Moons: are you outside my house??

 Pads: …

Pads: ofc

 Smiling to himself, he rolled over into the sheets and groaned softly, bones crackling as he stretched. It took him a fair few minutes to work up the energy to get out of bed, another few to get in the shower and brush his teeth followed by another few to pick an outfit – though it was still the quickest he’d ever gotten ready. He couldn’t help but be excited.

 Remus hurried down the stairs, his arms still searching for the holes in his sweatshirt, distracted by every buzz of his phone. His dad would have already left for work, leaving his mother alone in the living room. Throwing his bag over his shoulder, he tried his best to sneak past her rather unsuccessfully.

 “Where are you going in such a hurry, darling? Not even saying goodbye.”

 Remus winced and turned to his mother, “I’m sorry, I’m meeting someone.”

 “It’s quite alright,” She smiled brightly. “It might be a good idea to tie your shoes though.”

As looked down he saw that his shoes were in fact untied, which he fixed and rose to kiss her cheek. “And tell Sirius to put on his jacket, the poor boy looks freezing.”

 “I will-“ He paused after registering what she had said. “How did you know it was Sirius?” Does she know something? I wasn’t ready to tell her yet, this is bad.

 “He’s been standing there for half an hour.”

 Remus nodded and sighed, “Of course he has. I’ll see you later.”

 “Have a nice day!”

  With a final goodbye to his mum, he left the house with a skip in his step, slowing it as he approached Sirius. The two smiled giddily at each other, walking side by side until they were out of sight of the house, strangely silent.

 “So… did you-, are you-,” Remus stuttered. “Where’s James?”

 Sirius took his hands out of his pockets. “At school by now, most likely. He’s really excited by the way.”

 “Excited about what?”

 “You know, this. Us,” He gestured between them, earning a blush from Remus. They fell back into silence and subconsciously walked closer together, hand brushing slightly. “And I had swimming again, being the captain gives me a lot to live up to.”

 Remus questioned him, prompting him to continue. “Every year Coach chooses a new team captain to help everything stay in order, it’s mainly running drills and training younger swimmers. I get a free t-shirt, so that’s a bonus.”

 “I thought you said your coach hates you,” He supplied knowingly.

 “He does! That’s what was weird about it.”

 Remus hummed, feeling courageous enough to deliberately rush his fingers against Sirius’s hands. The contact sent jolts of electricity through his blood. “Well, Captain, I can’t see why that’d be.”

 Sirius bumped into his shoulder in mock offence, “Oi! I did not come here to be insulted, this is slander!”

 “And what exactly did you come here for?”

 “I mean, I’d love to give this a go,” He said hopefully. “If that’s what you want, of course.”

 Remus thought for a moment, chewing at his lip lightly. “As in, like, boyfriends?”

 “Yeah, I guess. Boyfriends.” Sirius tried out the new word, nodding to show his approval.

 Remus was nowhere near as cool and collected as the long-haired boy, and so struggled to keep his calm, “Cool, yeah, that’s cool, that’s awesome.”

 “It’s a long time coming, I’d say.”

 That was completely true on Remus’s part, and he cringed remembering what was just a few days ago. He remembered first laying his eyes upon the scraggy boy, his hair at that point being tame and cut short, and the strange desire to be his friend. He remembered denying his feeling for years out of fear, thinking that being afraid of yourself was normal. He remembered having to leave the room every time a girl so much as spoke to Sirius, crying into his pillow at night because he thought he would never have the chance to speak to him in that way.

 It was also true on Sirius’s part. He remembered the confusion he felt as the boys and even a few girls around him expressed their attraction to girls, not seeing what they were talking about. He remembered his fascination with how Remus’s tawny hair fell onto his forehead, or was covered by a beanie. He remembered standing bravely in front of him family and confronting what he was feeling, yet he hadn’t been brave enough to back ever since.

 James let out a girlish squeal as they showed up to school hand in hand.

  ~~

  “Hey Moony, can I see your answers? I won’t copy them or anything, I just really need to see them before next lesson.” Peter said, leaning over Sirius to peer at Remus’s paper.

 “It sounds like you’re going to copy him.”

 “I’m not! I swear!”

 James chimed in, “If you want to copy him you could just ask, I’m sure he’d let you.”

 “I don’t want to copy him!” Peter practically shouted, thanking Remus profusely as he pushed his finished worksheet towards the boy, only doing it because he secretly felt sorry for him.

 The sixth form common room was busy with chatter at this time of day. Hectic, yes, but in a peaceful sort of way. Remus glanced out of the window to see orange leaves falling from the trees, a similar coloured October hue in the sky. September had slipped through his fingers rapidly, running away as the next month came. Autumn had always been his favourite season. As he moved his eyes from the window to the boy beside him, it took him a moment to take his boyfriend’s (he still hasn’t taken that in) smile, his fingers tracing patterns on Remus’s knee. It had only been a week, but what a week it had been.

 “Hey.”

 He pressed his lips together in a smile, “Hi.”

 Sirius’s fingers stilled, tightening as his eyes darkened, those caramel brown eyes that he’d spent countless nights thinking about and imagining. Now he knew that the pupils dilated after a long kiss and that they darkened, like now, when he was being mischievous. “So, I heard that the store cupboard was left open…”

 “And this is relevant to me how?” Remus had a feeling he knew exactly what was going on, but was elated when he felt Sirius grab his hand, dragging him up out of his chair. “You’ll see.”

 With a few protests from Peter, and a startling shout of “Use protection!” from James, he was pulled into said dark cupboard. Sirius flicked the lights on and paused for a second, faces inches away from each other as he breathed out a question of if it was okay, to which Remus responded by crashing their lips together.

 It was even more amazing than he remembered. This time his hands went straight to the other’s hair, carding their way through before settling on the nape of his neck the same time as Sirius’s hands found his hips. Sighing gently, he felt as if he was is heaven: and truthfully he wouldn’t mind if he was dead if this is what he got.

 Sirius caught his bottom lip between his teeth and spoke quietly, “I’m sorry, I’ve been wanting to do that since this morning.”

 Remus laughed slightly, “You don’t need to apologise for kissing me like that” Before leaning forward to peck Sirius’s lips again.

 “Kissing my boyfriend.” He reminded, earning another laugh. It still felt so surreal to hear that, and he couldn’t get enough of it. “Speaking of that, I want to take you out.”

 “Huh?” Remus chased his mouth, the two kissing for another few minutes before Sirius could answer the question.

 Sirius finally broke away and placed a hand on the other’s shoulder to keep him from distracting him again, knowing that as soon as their lips met everything would melt out of his mind. “Like, to the cinema or something, you deserve a proper first date Moons. Are you free tomorrow night?”

 “I thought you had a gala tomorrow night?” Remus said, looping his arms around Sirius’s neck.

 He paused to think, “Then you can come to the gala. You don’t have to be there the whole time, just for my last race. Then we can go catch that new Will Smith movie.” Biting the inside of his cheek, he continued. “I’ve always wanted you to see me swim.”

 Remus nodded enthusiastically, “Absolutely. I’d love that.”

 “Then it’s a date!”

 Suddenly, as they leaned back towards each other for another kiss, the door was swung open by James. “As much as I hate to interrupt, because I really do, Peter needs your help with his homework.”

 Sirius groaned, “Can’t it wait?”

 “Unfortunately not, Pads, however I can assure you that I will give you as much time as you want to snog Moony in the future.” He replied cheerily, followed by an exasperated protest from both boys. As soon as he walked back away from the door, leaving it wide open, Remus leaned forward for one last brief kiss.

 “Tomorrow night, gala, a movie.” He said.

 Sirius smiled against his lips, “I can’t wait.”

  ~~

  Most of the rest of Sirius’s day was spent staring longingly at the back of Remus’s head, jittering with the thought of a first date. The fact that that was something he could now do was exciting by itself, new and overdue. More than once did someone have to snap their fingers in front of his face to bring him back to reality. The worst of it was that now at tomorrow’s gala not only did he have to worry about impressing his coach and team, but impressing Remus too.

 He’ll be proud of me no matter what, he’s kind like that.

 But what if he’s not?

 “Oi, Black, help me out here,” Marlene said from over the experiment splayed out on the table before them. The two always paired together for chemistry, though they weren’t as close as other people in their friend group. Sirius blamed the fact that they didn’t get much of a chance to interact, considering they were both constantly surrounded by others.

 He put his hands up in surrender, “Alright, but keep in mind that last time we did a practical I set my notebook on fire. We weren’t even using fire.”

 “Maybe you shouldn’t help then…” Marlene warned with caution. She didn’t think her heart could handle another Sirius Black Catastrophe.

 Nodding silently, he reached inside of his pocket for a pen and began to aimlessly flick it, his mind elsewhere. He watched as Marlene worked hard, the most focused he’d ever seen her, as she mixed some chemicals or other into a beaker. He had no idea what was going on, but would most likely still pass the class. Remus used to tell him that it was so annoying how he could get an A without even opening a book. My boyfriend used to tell me that.

 “Penny for your thoughts?” Marlene offered, hands still busy.

 Sirius laughed, “What was your first date with Dorcas like?”

 Marlene raised her eyes to look at him, eyebrows shooting up into her hairline, and smirked. “We never really had an official first date, to be honest.” She admitted, “We’d been going out to that Mexican Restaurant she likes for a while before we were dating, and one night, my face stuffed with a burrito, she asked me out.”

 “And then what? You combusted on the spot?”

 “As much as I deny it, yes,” She chuckled playfully. “Why do you ask?”

 Sirius tried to bite back a smile but couldn’t quite hold his glee back. Just thinking about it made him excited, “I may or may not have asked a certain someone out on a date tomorrow night. And I may or may not be nervous as shit.”

 Marlene doubled over in teasing laughter that only became harder as Sirius folded his arms across his chest and pouted, “Hey! I’m allowed to be nervous!”

 “Of course you are, and I’m allowed to make fun of you for it,” Her gaze softened as Sirius shifted slightly, still ducking his head and smiling. “What’s your plan for this date then, Black? You going to give him flowers and have him home by 10?”

 Sirius let his head back and groaned, “Fuck off! He’s coming to see my race then we’re going to the cinema, nothing too big.”

 The experiment lay unattended to on their table as Marlene leaned over to him on her elbows, which considering the bubbling of the chemicals was not the best idea. “Ah yes, because watching you swim is so romantic.”

 “It might be!” He defended hopelessly.

 She sighed, “To be fair, I can’t really judge. Just be yourself, be kind, be charming, be exciting-“

 “That’s a lot of different things to be, McKinnon.”

 “All I’m saying is to just have fun. He’s already head over heels for you, so it’s not like you have to win him over or anything, I’m sure you’ll do just fine.” Marlene said. She wasn’t the best at giving heartfelt advice, but in that moment she was trying her best. He deserves it, she thought.

 Sirius scrunched up his nose, in mock disgust. “Being nice doesn’t really suit you,” She grinned, teeth showing, as soon as he said it. “But thanks, I appreciate it.”

 “Yeah, yeah… you can go back to being a little shit now.”

 “Thank god, I don’t know how much longer I could’ve lasted.”

  ~~

  Remus waded through the crowd, finding any gap he could just to get to the front. The heat of the swimming pool was almost suffocating, but it was worth it. He was finally watching Sirius do what he was good at. He was finally seeing a part of him that he usually kept hidden from people, yet it was something that defined him. But for all the build up he had given, it wasn’t exactly the magical experience he’d expected. He just hoped he’d gotten there in time.

 A long whistle sounded, signalling for silence. A voice over the PA system made itself clear, “This is the final call for the Men’s 15 and over, 200 metre freestyle final. Take your place behind the blocks.”

 Entranced, he watched as half a dozen boys, all about the same age as him, made what must have been last minute adjustments to themselves. They all stretched out their broad shoulders and prepared themselves for what was to come. Remus had absolutely no idea what was to come, and so scanned the group for a certain brown-eyed boy. When he did finally find Sirius, he was looking right back at him, long hair tucked into a cap and the shortest speedo he’d ever seen. Remus could have sworn he winked at him before placing his goggles over his nose.

 How can someone look so hot and so adorable at the same time?

 The whistle made 3 short sounds and the boys were stepping onto the block, placing one foot behind the other and holding on for dear life. Even from his distance he could see the muscles in Sirius’s jaw working overtime, face devoid of humour.

 “Take your marks,” Someone shouted, followed by a noise Remus didn’t quite recognise and suddenly the boys were in the water. He was taken aback by how quickly it was all happening. Every single one of them kicked and pulled and did everything they could to get ahead, yet they were seemingly unable to beat the figure he now recognise was Sirius. It was astonishing just how in his element he was, not stopping for something as insignificant as a breath.

 He cupped his hands around his face and cheered, “Gwed Sirius! You can do this!”

 The moment was so intense, but he couldn’t help but be brought out of it a face. A face with an almost identical structure to Sirius’s but paler and more ill-looking, bonier and thinner. Shorter hair fell into the boys eyes as he too shouted in support.

 Regulus.

 Why is he here?

 And out of nowhere it was over, Sirius was crashing into the wall and pumping his fist into the air. No one else had even come close. As he ripped his hat and goggles off his eyes found Remus’s once again and his triumph only grew. The crowd, along with Regulus and Remus, erupted into glee, a few stray members of other teams sulking at the immense support. High off of his win, Sirius felt as if he was flying when he re-entered the changing room, teammates jumping him.

 Frank Longbottom spoke from atop of his shoulders, “Mate, you beat the team record!”

 “I did what?” Sirius said disbelievingly. As soon as he’d gotten his time he’d disappeared, not bothering to check the technicalities of it.

 “That was incredible!” Fabian applauded, gushing slightly. “How did you it?”

 Remus, he thought. I did it for Remus.

  Time went on uneventfully as Sirius packed as quickly and as soundly as possible, knowing who was waiting for him. In his mind the only person in the entire building who really mattered was Remus; as cheesy and sappy as it sounded. Whilst they’d only been dating for a little over a week, they’d been friends for years, meaning the awkward phase was skipped over.

 “Pads, you were amazing!” Remus said, wrapping him into a tight hug. “I knew you were good, but I didn’t know you were that good.”

 “I’m flattered, Rem,” Sirius teased.

 He made sound in the back of his throat, arms tightening. “You know what I mean.”

 “I do.”

 Frank Longbottom came up behind the pair, not surprising considering they were in the middle of the foyer, and clasped Sirius on the back, “Who’s this?”

 They looked at each other, then at Frank in short intervals before smiling widely. They hadn’t discussed how they were going to deal with this part of the relationship. The coming out, the PDA, the public front, none of that seemed to matter as Sirius grabbed the freckled boy’s hand and said proudly, “Frank, this is my boyfriend Remus. Re, this is Frank, the best backstroke swimmer I have ever seen.”

 “Nice to meet you,” Remus greeted politely.

 “That’s a fucking lie and you know it, Cap.” He said simply, stretching his arms above his head. “I’m glad he’s finally got someone to keep him in line, the man’s crazy. You probably know that by now though, huh?”

 He tried not to laugh as Sirius punched the boy’s shoulder playfully, “Yeah, I know.”

 They stayed to talk for another few moments, joking around and meeting a few other members of his team, until Remus saw Sirius’s head snap in another direction and jaw tense. He immediately started rubbing his thumb across the back of his hand, moving closer into the warmth of his space. As he turned his own head to see what had drawn his attention his sympathy grew and worst dreads were met: Regulus.

 “Can… can we go now?” Sirius said, panic dripping from his voice. “We don’t want to miss the movie. Please.”

 “Is that what you want?” Remus whispered into his hair.

 Sirius tore his eyes away from his brother and back to the boy by his side, searching his eyes for any kind of comfort or guidance. He was conflicted. One part of him desperately wanted to talk to Regulus, to ask him how he’s doing and if he needed anything. He wanted to be a good older brother, looking out for him and caring for him and giving him everything he needed. But there was another part of him holding him back, the part of him that held all the trauma of his childhood. The part of him that left the house and hadn’t thought about it since.

 “I-, I can’t do it right now, Re. I… can we go?” He pleaded, hoping he wouldn’t push it further.

 “Of course we can, c’mon.”

  It was only a few hours later in the cinema, lights dimmed and a mindless movie playing when Remus could give the boy the comfort he truly needed. Sirius had fallen asleep on his shoulder, as expected considering how hard he’d worked at the gala before, with his boyfriends’ arms around him. It was all silent touches and gestures but for now it was all he could do. He, of course, wouldn’t push him to say anything, but that didn’t stop him from wanting the boy to open up. Perhaps one day he would, but for now all he could do was comfort him in the only ways he could.

#wolfstar #as we grow older #modern au #high school au #first dates #remus lupin #sirius black #remus x sirius #sirius x remus #remus lupin x sirius black #love #swimming #cute #kissing #wolfstar kissing #marlene mckinnon #peter pettigrew #james potter

[nuwisha-laughs-last]

Changeling excerpts part 1: Pests and Peeves

An excerpt from a World of Darkness Changeling: The Dreaming rpg I played a while back.  This is a collab I did with my character and a friend’s character meeting for the first time.  If you are unfamiliar with WOD, I will leave some key information at the end if you would like to orient yourself before diving into the story.  In the meantime, off we go!

*************

Pooka were social creatures. Some of them weren't, most of them were, but they all LIKED people and none of them WANTED to be alone.  Even pooka recognized that dying was one thing that everyone had to do by themselves, but that didn't mean that they had to spend the entire process in solitude.  Prior to that last breath, most pooka never spent more than a few minutes alone. They didn't fear death -- they just would have been much happier if it could have been a group activity.

The seer was getting old. She could feel it, even though she still didn't look it. She was always surprised (and more than a little amused) to see her reflection in the mirror and to hear how young other people thought she was. She still looked the same as she had in the past, even as she watched her friends age and die. But that was why she was on the move - seeking someone to keep her company and finding a place that was more appropriate to meandering the future now that all the other's at home had stopped being fun.

She shook her head, and ruffled her fluffy hair, revealing two tawny mouse ears. She was getting melancholic -- a side affect of the rain, she was sure. She glowered up at the sky – rain made her want to curl up in front of a fireplace with chocolate and cheese. The rain should have been considerate enough to wait until she'd found somewhere better insulated than the middle of the road. Or perhaps the road should have been better built to offer more shelter from the rain. She pondered the idea for a minute before spying a nearby cave to hide in. It would be as good of a place as any other to curl up for the night. As if to punctuate her decision, a huge clap of thunder resounded and the downpour suddenly increased.

Wrinkling her mousy little nose, she turned herself to making a small fire near the entrance of the cave and laying out her cloak so that it would dry easier. She chose a blanket from one of her bags that was relatively less-soaked than the rest and wrapped herself in it before pulling out a velvet pouch from under her shirt where it hung around her neck.  Squinting in the dark, she peered inside and pulled out a thick stack of tarot cards.  She held them out and looked at the pretty pictures before selecting her first card. It was one of her favorites because of the pretty pictures, and after it had accidentally gotten coated in glitter that one time, she tended to use it to represent herself in these readings. Then she laid down the Star Card -- a prudent decision in case she accidentally picked an ugly card for the last one. Then she flipped the cards face down in her hands and closed her eyes, a useless gesture as she opened one to peek anyway, and picked a card. She opened her eyes all the way and stared at the card for a minute before looking out at the rain tilting her head to the side.

"That could work." she whispered, shuffling the cards and putting them back in her pouch.

***

With a weary huff, Morrigan pushed open the door and dropped her bag.  Coming up behind the crescent couch to the right of the large circular room, the big, blue troll put her hands on the back and rolled over the edge to land with a satisfied wumpf on the soft cushions.  Big as the couch was, Morrigan’s immense height meant her head and legs stuck out significantly on either end.  Morrigan dangled her feet up and down trying to loosen her muscles.  Training had been rough today.  She was no good with spears, they kept getting tangled in her horns.  Morrigan reached up and gave the massive ram horns an experimental wiggle.  She winced, she’d given them a few pretty good knocks earlier.  With a sigh she reached up and started to undo the multitude of braids she used to keep her pale hair out of her face before sinking into the cushions contentedly. 

Just as sleep had crept under her eyelids, there was a muffled scuffling noise in the general area of the kitchenette.  Morrigan cracked an eye open and peered lazily in that direction.  When nothing was forthcoming she shrugged and settled back down.  Almost immediately a skittering sound came from in front of the large window on the opposite end of the apartment.  This time Morrigan sat up and looked around, listening intently.  Once again, silence, but this time Morrigan rose and strode over to the window, searching around the hardwood floor for any sign of…well…anything.

Just as she was about to give up, the noise resurfaced over by the couch.  Quick as a flash Morrigan took a running leap and landed in a crouch on the cushions she had been occupying not a moment earlier.  But again, she was too late, as the skittering appeared to now be coming from her bedroom.  Silently she slid to the door and peeked into the opening.  Still nothing. 

But she needn’t have worried as none too soon a deafening crash met her ears from the direction of the pantry.  With a jump she was at the door and wrenched it open and, well, she definitely couldn’t say she was prepared for the sight that met her eyes.

“Hewro!” 

Morrigan looked around wildly for the bearer of the oddly muffled greeting.  The pantry floor was covered in white powder but more odd than that was the small woman currently climbing down the pantry shelves.  The pooka jumped down and grinned at Morrigan, revealing the cause of her speech impediment: her cheeks were packed full of something and bulging noticeably. 

The pooka was incredibly small in stature, even for a changeling of her kind, with wide eyes and a very large amount of thick tawny hair falling down to her waist around two huge mousey-ears.  She was dressed in an assortment of clothes that seemed to both match and, simultaneously, clash horribly.

“W-What?” Morrigan stuttered, but the pooka held up a finger in the universal “wait” gesture before indulging in an enormous swallow, then fixed Morrigan with a baleful glower.

“You have no good food in here.” she accused, giving Morrigan the distinct impression she was being judged for the state of her pantry.

Morrigan blinked, at an utter loss for words, and surveyed the mess.  Flour littered the floor as well as several canisters of various food-items, their contents scattered to every corner of the room.  It seemed that the intruder had scaled the ladder-like shelves of the room to, as evidenced by the empty bag, reach the pack of pistachios.  The confusing part is Morrigan kept those on the bottom shelf. 

“Well…” Morrigan said, dazed, “not anymore I don’t.”  She shook her head, and blinked a few times, struggling to make some sense of the situation. 

“I-Wha- where did you come from?  WHO are you?!  WHY Are you eating my food?!”  She picked up the bag,  “THIS is as big as your HEAD!  How the HELL did it all FIT?!”  She dropped the bag and looked around, suddenly deflated by her outburst, “And...and how did you get in?”

The pooka stared up at her with eyes slightly too big for her face and scratched one of her downy ears,  “Well that was completely unintelligible, how am I supposed to answer that? You do realize that screaming is horribly unhealthy? It increases your stress levels and causes you to grow strange little freckles on your knees.  Incidentally, it also turns you blue. You must spend a great deal of time screaming.”

Morrigan had no words for this small creature, but that didn’t seem to bother her for with a twitch of her tufted tail and a wrinkle of her nose she just continued rambling.

“Who am I? I’m a dormouse so, logically, I came from your door. Alternatively, you can say that your boot is now a door.  As for the rest, I have yet to figure out what the size of my head has to do with the size of my stomach, but if you can figure it out, you can tell me later.  I came here because three years ago I was visited by an ambassador from the moth kingdom who told me that in order to prevent uncertain doom and destruction and in order to bring glory and honor - you do like glory and honor right?  That’s a troll thing, right?  I think it was anyway, so I’m supposed to bring glory and honor and in order to do that I had to follow the future as indicated by the moth kingdom ambassador’s magic bamboo plant and arrive to this city.  Upon which I used my almighty super awesome seer powers to identify the “younger pooka” I am destined to adopt.  You’re not much of a pooka, but the cards are never wrong, so we’ll just make do.  Perhaps a shrinking cantrip will sort out that largeness problem.  Anyway, where do I sleep?”

“I-“  Morrigan scratched her head.  She had never been so confused in her life.  “Wait…adopted?  You’re not staying here!”

“What are you talking about?  I live here.  I should call the guard on your intrusion, but I won’t because I understand that as a troll you probably weren’t well-educated on manners and acceptable behavior.  But don’t worry, we’ll fix that too.  It’s never too late to learn good manners.  Oh, and speaking of manners, you may call me the Splendid Soothsayer of Remarkable Fabulousness.”

Morrigan crossed her arms,  “I’m NOT calling you that.  And you’re NOT staying in MY house.”

“What about the Marvelous Oracle of Tremendous Awesomeness?”

“No.” 

“Or the Stunning Seer of Surprising Spectacularosity?”

Morrigan blinked and carefully nudged one of the Pooka’s huge ears, “Can you even hear me?  Do those ears work or are they just for decoration?” The Pooka ignored this statement just as she had the previous,

“The Impressive Clairvoyant of Ostentatious Foretelling?”

“Get out.”

“Fine then, the Grand Prophet of Majestic Illustriousness.” 

“NO!”

“Well,” the pooka huffed,  “you’ll have to call me SOMETHING if we’re going to be roommates.”

Morrigan rubbed the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger, “This can’t be happening…”

“I KNOW!”  The pooka clapped her hands together looking altogether too happy, “You can call me Bridget!”

***

The next morning, Morrigan crawled out of her bed with a groan. Maybe it had all been a dream and she'd never met a mouse pooka who claimed to be the Stunning Deer of Surprising Rediculosity. Or, if that was too elaborate of dream to have come from Morrigan's subconscious, that the pooka had gotten bored and scampered off during the night. That wasn't too unlikely, Morrigan thought to herself. Most pooka got bored easily. But as she walked into the main room, Morrigan was sorely disappointed. 

"Bridget, what are you doing?" The pooka didn't respond from where she was attempting, and only minimally succeeding, to move the couch in Morrigan's living room.

"Bridget." Morrigan growled in warning. She was not a morning person and patience was a foreign concept.  When Bridget refused to answer, Morrigan stomped over and put her hands on the couch to prevent it from moving. The pooka stared at her in surprise and, satisfied that she finally had the pooka's attention, Morrigan continued.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Good morning, Morrigan!" Bridget chirped, "You know, you really should go see a doctor about those hallucinations. You came in and you kept talking to a Bridget, but I looked around and there wasn't anyone else in the room but me. I was going to interrupt and ask if perhaps the person you were talking to was invisible, because I'd like to meet someone who was invisible too. But my mother always told me not to interrupt when grown-ups were talking. I wonder if she'd still call it interrupting if they're talking to a hallucination." Morrigan's frown deepened as the pooka continued talking.

"I was talking to you, Bridget, I’m not crazy..." Bridget looked very confused before coming around the couch and pressing the back of her hand on Morrigan's wrist, almost as if she were trying to check Morrigan's temperature through it.

"Are you feeling ill, Morrigan? My name's not Bridget, remember? How many fingers am I holding up? Have you been forgetting other people's names? When did the hallucinations start, exactly? My name's Kara, remember?" Morrigan stared flabbergasted at the pooka who was alternating between trying to wave her hand in front of Morrigan's eyes and poking at Morrigan's ribs.

"Yesterday you said your name was Bridget." Morrigan protested weakly.  She was too tired for this. 

 The pooka recoiled in blatant disgust.  "Bridget?!  Why would I ever call myself Bridget?  It's a horrible name that's a derivative of Brittney,  which has become ridiculously popular as a name as of late and clearly the sign of parents who want to squash any semblance of uniqueness out of the children while appearing to encourage it.  This is just proof that you're ill. Here, you sit down right here, and I'll be right back with some Pepto Bismal for that head."  Morrigan just nodded as the small insane thing sat her down on the table and pranced off.

There was a pooka haunting her apartment.  With a moan Morrigan slid off the table and retreated to her room.  She was going back to bed.

*** END ***

And now for the promised infodump for those interested in WOD:

What is a Changeling?: “In this game, the player characters are half-human, half-fairy changelings. Cut off from Arcadia, not quite of this Earth, these changelings are torn between their human and fae natures. If the two natures aren't balanced, the results may be disastrous” ( https://whitewolf.fandom.com/wiki/Changeling:_The_Dreaming )

What is a Pooka?: “Pranksters and comedians, Pooka are well-loved by kithain and mortal alike, but few who know them will ever trust them completely: they are incapable of telling the whole truth. Each is able to take on the form of a specific animal, most often one with a tie to human stories of mischief” ( https://whitewolf.fandom.com/wiki/Pooka_(CTD) )

What is a Troll?: “Trolls are dreams of honor and duty--their honor is literally their strength. Loyal to a fault and near-stoic as stone, they have been at times bitter rivals and at times staunch allies of the Sidhe. More than anyone, these warriors are guardians of the commoners.” ( https://whitewolf.fandom.com/wiki/Troll_(CTD) )

If you enjoy tabletops and haven’t played any World of Darkness I highly recommend it!  I’m going through a Werewolf the Apocalypse campaign right now and will probably post some excerpts from that too in the future. 

#nuwishalaughslast #changeling #world of darkness #white wolf #fantasy writing #fantasy writer #rpg #fiction #changeling the dreaming #pooka #troll #g/t #giant/tiny