#✶ ── ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀feat. ⠀ ❯ ⠀ nora

[alexsandhenrys]

[detectivebambam]

i can't really draw but i had an idea i HAD to share

[thursdaygrl]

closed starter for @persephonyed

it was such a brief glimpse at first that molly wasn't even sure she'd seen her. one moment she was trying to relax after a long shift, still full beer in hand as she stared down at the bar top and the next she was noticing that familiar figure ducking out the door of the bar and passing the windows. they didn't register why she was leaving, if it was coincidence or if she'd caught sight of them, but they were out of their seat quickly, power walking to catch up with her after they shoved the door open. "hey!" she called out, her boots hitting the concrete hard as she caught up with her. "that episode you did on my brother was bullshit."

[nishloves]

moots <3

despite being an e, I'm very awkward on social media and it's hard for me to interact with people who aren't my irl, but surprisingly I made so many friends here (even though we don't talk as much) and that makes me so happy 🥺🩷

noelle; @icyminghao

my first moot <3 I was so excited when you followed me back because I literally loved your works, we haven't talked in a long time but i genuinely adore you and hope you're doing well! and all the dedicated songs made me so happy that you think of me this dearly

sunny; @feat-sun

thankyou so much for supporting me<3 all your comments have uplifted me throughout my tumblr journey and motivated me to post my works, thankyou thankyou <3

kat!; @ksyongi

we just became moots and I don't know you that well but I seriously love your works and had almost squealed when I saw you followed me because you were one of the first accounts I had followed on tumblr<3 hope we can get to know each other better!

@dearharshii

my irl bestie <3

kat; @blackcat2907

I know we haven't interacted a lot, but I love seeing your posts on my dashboard (I used to love pjo too and now am getting back into it again!) I hope in future we can talk more and get to know each other!

kala; @jeonride 🐾

I remember following you because of your immaculate recs and i felt so honoured when you followed me back! almost like a reassurance that my fics are now getting better <3 hope we can get to know each other better soon!

sunny; @sunnylovespickles

I remember following you a long time ago because of kala's recommendations and then doing a happy dance when I saw you followed me back! we haven't interacted much but you seem like a beautiful person and I hope we can get to know each other better<3

aania; @aaniag

thankyou for supporting me so much! it really feels nice to think that you have an audience to write for and an audience to appreciate your works! all your interactions made me so happy <33

may; @som1ig

i can't stress just how much I loved your pjo series and being updated on it! you seem like a very chill person with a very cool vibe and I hope we can get to know each other better! <3 ( spoiler : we did and i love you sm more now aaaaaaa <33333333 )

aznik; @thepoopdokyeomtouched

our first interaction was both of us simping on desi svt and honestly, i found you to be a full vibe since then, thanks for supporting me sm, thanks for liking my fics and interacting with me and thanks for all the motivation you've unknowingly given to me, just- thank you for existing <3

aiden; @gojos-thot-patrol-main

my first anime moot and our first interaction was absolutely nuts- i still go back to #jjk soap opera tag and end up cackling because of how messy every single thing was- not to mention that all your sukuna fics are my guilty pleasure and i literally squealed when i got the notif that you followed me and we're moots now!!! hope we interact more and take care of yourself!

star; @starsstuddedsky

i just can't stress enough how much i am in love with your fics and specially wlih because i had been religiously following it- i love your works and i really really hope that we interact more <3

nora; @woozvc-main

we've just become moots and haven't really interacted a lot but i love your smaus and i'd love to talk with you more <3

mina; @alsktudy

gosh, i really think that your fics are so cute- i really appreciate all the comments, all the reblogs and all the interactions you bestow upon me and you're such an amazing and chill and fun person too! hope we talk more <3

sarah; @kkooongie

we haven't interacted much out of tag games but oh my god your works are so awesome- and your series are literally chef's kiss. awaiting all your upcoming works, you're amazing <3

[thehill-rpg]

Episode 2: Whispers on The Hill Part: 1/??

The quiet shuffle of bare feet on the gravel courtyard fills the air, accompanied by the faint squeak of a rusty pool gate reluctantly opening. With a pair of composed steps, a slender figure, tall yet delicate, makes her way towards an ageing pool chair. As she reclines on its worn surface, the chair emits a soft groan of protest, bearing witness to both its own well-worn years and the age of its current resting place: Palm’s Motor Hotel. Donning a pair of Ray Bans, she settles in, clad in a casual ensemble of a Washington Nationals' tank top and a worn pair of denim short shorts. In her hand, she opens a well-read copy of Cosmo, its pages gently fluttering in the breeze. Tucked between them is a torn clipping from yesterday’s issue of The Hill, resting over an article titled ‘The Secret to Finding Your Soulmate: Date Your Alter Ego.’ A good article, offering the kind of advice you could only get out of a drunk best friend, yet not the one currently capturing her attention.

Chelsea Dalton reclines beside a pool that seems questionably operational (was that the smell of an impending bacteria infection?), her gaze fixed on the familiar words. She reads it again, for what feels like the hundredth time, each word etched into her memory. She knows every line by heart. It’s beautiful.

It’s also months of dedication, collaboration, and hopefully, justice. Sure, it’s a departure from her usual flair, and while, yes, she’d normally sell her soul for this kind of traffic on her blog, she knew there was no way her posting this story would get it the attention it deserved. Hence, her email to Violet Shard, almost three months ago. She’d been hesitant at first. Sure, she was a fan, but this was something that needed to be handled with care. She was too close to her own source. She couldn’t risk being named. However, Violet had assured her of anonymity and a series of follow-ups that wouldn’t brush any pertinent details under the proverbial rug of Washington D.C. political justice. That's why she had agreed, and why she now found herself just outside the District, technically in Maryland, waiting for said blonde journalist. 

Where was she?

As she waited for Violet’s late arrival (had her trusty Saab finally coughed its last puff of exhaust?), she let her thoughts drift over to Gray, and the party she would have been at if the news she’d just leaked to The Hill, hadn’t implicated his father. She’d probably have been in some uncomfortable sundress right now, watching as Gray loosened a tie, only for his mother to promptly tighten it again, while she discreetly passed another crab puff to Mac. Of course, she hated every second of it, but even without her mom’s urging, she hadn’t missed one since she’d moved in next door to his family at six. What could she say? She had a thing for fish paste covered Hors d'Oeuvres. And tortured artists… She’d let the last one remain unsaid, stubbornly resisting even her subconscious attempts to divert her down that worn-out, oh so familiar road. Not today, Bucko! 

Just as she was attempting to shift her focus, fate intervened with the unceremonious thud of a bottle of sunscreen hitting her thigh, yanking her back to the realm of the living—or, more accurately, a realm that didn't revolve around pining over her best-friend of twenty-seven years. “Slip, slop, slap…” She glared over her glasses at a man holding a faded beach towel and a copy of The Hill. 

While quick judgments were usually her forte, she decided to withhold hers until he extended his hands to offer assistance. She leaned towards labelling him as the "concerned dad" type rather than a creepy motel lifer. "Uh, thanks, but— Is that the latest copy of The Hill?" She hadn’t been able to pick up a copy before she’d left her house in order to get here in time and she was keen to see how Violet had followed up. “Sure, kiddo. It’s yours.” She dropped her guard, leaning over to take the paper from his outstretched hand, “Are you moving in?” She’d have answered if the headline story hadn’t caught her attention. Violet Shard, facing charges of defamation and harassment, for her latest story on Congressman Whitman and Harris. “Uh, sorry, do you mind if I–” She was already up, picking up her copy of cosmo and hurrying out of the pool area and back towards her day room and her burner. FUCK. Voicemail. “Violet, call me. I— What can I do?” 

Well, she knew one thing she could do…  

She hastily opened her laptop, disregarding the unread emails clamouring for her attention with their requests for her usual freelance work. Instead, she navigated to her blog and swiftly crafted a new post.

Ms. Whisper here, emerging from the shadows with a scoop hotter than the Capitol's political inferno. It appears our esteemed journalist, Violet Shard, finds herself in the clutches of controversy. But this isn't your run-of-the-mill scandal, my darlings—oh no, it's a tale of truth-telling and the ruthless consequences that follow. Violet dared to shine a light on the dark dealings of Congressman Whitlock and Harris, revealing their insidious involvement in the war-torn realm of Matamba. Yet, instead of accolades, she's met with handcuffs and accusations of defamation and harassment. But fear not, dear readers, for Ms. Whisper is always on the case, ready to peel back the layers of deception and hold the powerful to account. In this cutthroat world of political intrigue, even the bravest truth-seekers like Violet Shard aren't safe from the claws of injustice. So, keep your ears to the ground and your eyes peeled, because when it comes to unravelling the truth, there's no hiding from the relentless pursuit of Ms. Whisper. #StandWithViolet

Her phone buzzed—an SOS. She shot a text back that she’d be there soon. Though even with her foot planted to the floor of her beemer she knew she’d never break an hour. Hastily rummaging through her overnight bag, she retrieved a somewhat acceptable dress (she didn’t own many); though the party might've been cancelled, she was certain Gray's mom wouldn't want the reminder. Hastily, she made her way over to the shower, and tried her best to find the password to get the hot water working longer than two seconds.

She did her best to keep her hair from getting wet, as she washed her nervous sweat from under her armpits. Chelsea hadn't seen this coming without a fight, but nabbing a journalist? This wasn't just a hiccup; it was the kind of move that had First Amendment lawyers rubbing their hands with glee.

She gave up trying to tune the shower into submission and let the cold water run down her back, as she wracked her brain for a way to assist Violet beyond mere page views. Nothing. Nothing.

When it came down to taking action, what good was being Ms. Whisper if all she had in her arsenal were a sharp tongue and a quick wit? That certainly didn't grant innocent journalists a Get Out of Jail Free card, did it?

After a quick drying session (as evidenced by her dress clinging to her back and making it a challenge to slide down over her thighs), Chelsea grappled with her wayward curls, victims of the fierce heat akin to the Battle of Waterloo. With her belongings in tow, she checked out of the motel, conceding that, for the time being, there was little she could do for Violet. As for Gray, a sense of obligation stirred within her to mitigate the unintended turmoil she had caused him. Nonetheless, she refrained from assuming full culpability, acknowledging that the root of this mess lay primarily with his father. All she’d done was overhear a phone call, sneak into his office at night, and make a few dozen or so copies of a report that she only wished now had more than just Congressman Harris’ name to it.

Pulling up to Gray’s house, adjacent to her own, Chelsea switched off the ignition and discreetly covered her overnight bag with one of Mac’s car seat covers in the backseat before stepping out and making her way inside. The atmosphere was sullen, with white chairs being shuffled in and out from the patio to a van parked out front. From a distance, Chelsea observed Nora overseeing the operation with an overflowing wine glass in hand. She couldn't shake the feeling of responsibility for the sombre mood, knowing she had played a part in it, at least partially.

Following the faint strumming of a bass, Chelsea ascended the stairs, purposefully bypassing Mr. Whitlock’s study. She had been instructed to call him Brody, but it just didn't sit right with her. Instead, she made her way down to Gray’s room at the end of the second floor. Her fingers brushed against the wooden door as she announced herself before slipping inside.

"So, on a scale from six-pack therapy to a spa retreat in the German highlands, how concerned should I be about you?" She offered a tentative smile. However, the instant she caught the strains of "Darn The Dream" by Ron Carter, being plucked, she realised she was entering yodelling territory.

[euphoriclusts]

closed starter for @bittcrsuite (continued from here)

"oh, please don't tell me it's too late. surely, i can persuade you to stay a little while longer. a free drink? decent company? a duet?" he teases in turn, watching her curiously, still so unashamed of his blatant interest and attraction. peter had a lot of blood on his hands, he was capable of plenty, but he always believed it was sorely deserved. if someone was good, they would remain unscathed by his fury and peter was certain that this beautiful woman was almost undoubtedly goodness personified. "i promise i can be great company. good company. decent company." he edits over and over playfully enough, wincing and head tilting as he does so. he was curious as to whether he would be able to uncover more about the beautiful stranger who'd stumbled into the less than beautiful bar.

[wr1tten]

shrouded  in  the  darkness,    haunting  the  corner  of  the  alleyway ;    she  watched  as  the  woman  circled  the  diner.      the  very  one  nora  went  to  each  morning  to  get  her  cup  of  coffee.      serial  killer  and  stalker.      a  jack  of  all  trades.          ❝ here,    piggy,    pig,    pig, ❞          she  whispered  to  herself.      the  woman  was  closing  in,    getting  far  too  close  to  the  truth  of  it  all.        ( the  break  in  the  case  —  you  being  alive )          wren  moved  like  a  ghost,    manicured  nails  closing  around  her  wrist.      with  a  tug,    she  pressed  the  cop  against  the  brick.      the  melodic  sound  of  unsheathing  her  blade,    the  beauty  of  seeing  it  pressed  to  nora’s  throat.          ❝ try  and  call  for  backup  and  you’ll  stain  your  pretty  top, ❞          knife  traced  down  along  the  buttons.      maybe  she  would  cut  one  off.      keep  it  as  a  souvenir.          ❝ surprise!      missed  me? ❞

@unbelovd liked for a starter.

[wastclanders]

“In a hundred years, when I die, I hope I go to hell just so I can kill you all over again.” - Nora to Conrad Kellogg

[new-eyes-extra-colors]

wip wthursday

thanks for the tag, @bokatan!

something kinda gooey today. under the cut for length and uhhh secondhand embarrassment!

An agent rounded the corner suddenly, and took one step into the alcove before stopping short. The little smile was all Deacon, but the rest of his appearance was, surprisingly, not: his usual pompadour wig was nowhere to be seen, and his mirrored sunglasses were folded and dangling from his t-shirt collar. No gear, no gun, just a mug in one hand, a bottle in the other, and the unfamiliar way his eyebrows scrunched on his face as he met Nora’s eyes. His shoes weren’t even tied.

He squinted at her—she always forgot how blue his eyes were—and Nora realized she must’ve looked as equally out of character to him as he did to her. The cool, professional mask she usually wore around him was gone, replaced by a tired, lonely widow, curled up on a couch, tucked against her best friend’s side, her arms wound around his waist. Vulnerable.

And then Deacon’s smile turned mischievous, and he waggled his eyebrows at her, and all but the sincerest depths of her empathy evaporated on the spot. God, how was he this annoying? She was absolutely going to strangle him one of these days.

“Am I interrupting something?” he asked, in that particular tone of voice he used when he was asking something rhetorical. He clicked his tongue. “Not that any of us disapprove, obviously, but this isn’t really a great spot for canoodling.” He gestured vaguely behind him with the bottle, grimacing, and continued in a stage whisper, “I mean, Carrington is right there.”

“And he can hear you, agent,” the doctor groused from across the walkway and out of sight. “They’ve barely made a sound.”

Deacon beamed. “Ooh?”

How Nick sighed so disapprovingly without lungs, she’d probably never know, but he could. Nora pursed her lips to keep from smiling at Deacon’s faux-innocent “What?” and turned her head so he couldn’t see her trying not to smile, since her hands were unavailable at the moment, and—and she was not going to resort to hiding her face in Nick’s shirt, no matter how badly she wanted to dissolve through the floor.

[devilsmenu]

@spellbcok - Jihyo & Nora

A hoard of geese

"Nora, hey. Though I'm happy seeing a friendly face it's not that time to talk, I don't think that these geeses are happy to see us" she said pointing out to the animals. "Do you have anything with you? Fruits or even a plant?".

[hinahanap-hanap-kita]

[tara-fantastico]

Okay but the fact that AFTG, a selfpublished bookseries, therefore without any official advertising whatsoever, has been trending almost constantly for the last, like, five days!? And frequently at first place!? A feat several well advertised tv-series can't pull off!? Incredible. These books are so genuinely loved that it has spread from person to person without any help from a publisher. That is truly remarkable. Well done Nora!

[veerasm]

' de acuerdo, quizá la toalla no era el plan más inteligente. ¿doble abrigo puede ser? ' casualmente se había llevado dos para la estadía: uno impermeable y uno de algodón. ' ¿robar? ¿qué vas a robar? ' enarca las cejas. lamentablemente, no termina de seguirle el hilo porque la información es ofrecida a medias. con una expresión confundida, ladea el rostro y le observa, esperando una instrucción más clara de hacia dónde se dirige su plan. ' ¿quién es tu hermana? ' tenía entendido que habían un par de familias en reverie, ¡y qué afortunados eran! él hubiera dado lo que fuera para que la suya estuviera ahí. ' tengo una hermana mayor, pero su profesión es muy diferente a las áreas que ofrece la academia. ' mientras comparte, deja que sus pies le lleven hacia el sendero principal. ' ¿cuál equipo buscamos? '

“Pa’ mí que las toallas dan más frío, a menos que sean de esas como afelpadas, no sé si te las haz cruzado alguna vez — no secan nada, nunca las compres.” Irónicamente, es lo que mejor le vendría en un momento como éste. Aunque el ofrecimiento ajeno tiene toda la buena intención del mundo, Nora negando al son de una sonrisa. “Ya, mira. No es el mejor comienzo pero se me acaba de ocurrir un plan. ¿Crees que me sancionen si me robo una— no, eso no era.” Tiene que detenerse a sí misma para no perder el hilo, ¿en qué iba? “Ya, acompáñame hasta la tienda de mi hermana mayor, ella fijo tiene una sudadera. ¿Puedes creer que no me la he cruzado en todo el día? Terrible... ¿Tú tienes hermanas, amiguito?”

[wr1tten]

@holyones asked : i never wanted any of this .

pacing,    the  terrible  sound  of  silence  echoing  in  a  reply  to  her  words.    feet  devoid  of  tangible  placement;    an  unknown  force  keeping  her  soul  planted  on  the  ground.    only  the  eyes  of  people  like  nora  able  to  gaze  upon  her  hauntingly  beautiful  face.    dangerous  tides  did  a  rotation,    scoffing,      ❝ boo-hoo! ❞      blonde  curls  fell  to  the  side  as  she  tilted  her  head,    so  close  that  her  breath  would  have  been  grazing  nora’s  cheek      ( 𝘪𝘧  𝘺𝘰𝘶  𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥  𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭  𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦 )      ❝ i  didn't  want  to  be  dead  either!    we  don’t  get  what  we  want  all  the  time. ❞      she  growled.    wren  didn’t  envy  the  living.    the  pain  she  endured  in  life  never  stopped  when  she  died.    life  meant  suffering.    in  death,    she  could  ensure  the  suffering  of  others.      ❝ nora,    dear,    if  you  leave  me  be  with  what  i  am  doing,    i would no longer bother you, ❞      long  digits  wrapped  around  her  shoulder,    gripping.    flesh  so  warm  it  could  burn  her  hand.    feelings  were  lost  long  ago,      ❝ you  insist  on  being  insufferable.    two  can  play  that  game. ❞

[wastclanders]

seeing him, over and over, hurts more than the initial loss. that he is here but doesn't remember their life together. it makes her so fucking angry. it's a torment. it would be better if he had died and god she wishes she didn't think that. but he wears nate's face and the rest is a shell.

" i can't stop thinking about you. "

nora wheels around, crossing the space between them until she's nearly toe to toe with @sonstolen. "and why do you think that is? what do you think about? it is just some...vague feeling you have? "

[devilsmenu]

♡ — [nora] and [romeo] try to bake an apple/pumpkin pie

"Alright so what's the next step? I've never done an pumpkin pie before. Should we put it on the oven already?".