#Got Muscle (fea

[rebelfell]

Currently being plagued by thoughts of an older!fem!Harrington!reader... 18+, MDNI 1.4k

index here

Like you’re Steve's aunt, late 30s/early 40s.

And you’ve always been kind of a fuck-up compared to your "perfect" older sister who got the good grades and who every guy in school had a crush on; who married the rich, handsome dude and popped out a kid; who lives in this big house in this picture-perfect suburban neighborhood.

And you tried to do all that, too—really, you did. But then your husband ex turned out to be a total asshole, and he's an asshole with a really good lawyer so he's probably gonna get the house.

So you move into your sister's for the summer because they're gonna be in Europe and they’d prefer someone be there to keep an eye on Steve, who's home from college and tends to get a little out of control when he's left unsupervised...

And one day you’re woken up from a nap by the loud, relentless grinding of a lawnmower and look out your window to see the gardener.

He's young. Maybe Steve's age if not a touch older. And he is just…stunning. So Beautiful that it’s hard to look at him, but in your current state, looking at him is about all you can do.

Alabaster skin decorated with black ink, dark curls tied up in a bun to keep them off his sticky neck. Threadbare tank top clinging to his slender frame he's so drenched with sweat from the heat. Arm and leg muscles flexing, glinting with it.

Then suddenly he stops, and his eyes drift to the upstairs window to lock onto yours. You freeze in place, wondering if he can even see you, and just when you’ve convinced yourself he can't...a smile curls across his lips and he raises his hand to wiggle his fingers at you in a wave.

Panic makes you seize and fling away from the window, knocking into your dresser and sending your make-up rolling over the top. And it only hits you now, far too late, that you were just staring at this guy wearing nothing but sleep shorts and a camisole. One that did absolutely nothing to conceal how hard your nipples were.

Jesus Christ—what were you thinking? Staring at this guy like some horned-up teenager?

What is wrong with you?

You yank the curtains closed and hide in your room until you're certain he's gone. And when Steve gets home from work, your hair is still wet from the cold shower you had to take when you couldn't stop imagining what it would be like if instead of mowing the lawn, that guy had come running upstairs to trim your hedges.

Seriously...what the fuck is wrong with you?

Then, a couple days later, the heat spikes to a truly oppressive degree. So you’ve got your suit on, and you’re dancing in the kitchen, stirring up something cool and sweet to sip by the pool, crushing fresh mint to add into the pitcher.

And you hear a splash. A big one.

Your head whips around to look out the window just in time to see that familiar head of dark curls bursting through the surface. He swings his head wildly like a dog, flipping his long hair out of his face before he dunks himself back under.

It's not panic that stops you in your tracks this time, but rage. Because what in the hell is the gardener doing swimming in your sister's pool?

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?"

Your voice is commanding as you storm out onto the pool deck, but your cover-up isn't tied around your waist so it flies open behind you to reveal the shape of your body. And you can’t quite squash the prickle of shame you feel at the thought of this guy seeing all your cellulite up close.

He turns toward you, awfully smiley for someone who just got caught trespassing. And his eyes are bright as he looks you up and down, the rays of sun hitting them just right so his deep brown irises glow like the richest honey.

Nope, nope. You're not gonna be flustered this time. You're not, you're not, you're not—

"Just waiting for you, sweetheart,” he says.

His voice is too smooth for his own good, words dripping from his lips the way water drips from his bangs and runs down his handsome features.

You roll your eyes and feel your hands settle on cocked hips. It's a stance you often find yourself in, wishing it was more intimidating. An inherited trait, you guess, considering how your nephew would stand the exact same way sometimes.

"Since when does the gardener get swimming privileges?" you scoff, eyes narrowing.

He just glances around at the freshly mown lawn, grass looking lush despite the sweltering heat.

"Didn't I do a good job? Don't I deserve a reward?"

The sun beating down overhead would be easy to blame for the way your body gets hot all over just from the way he says it, his brow arching to drive home his meaning, as if you couldn't tell.

"Take that up with your boss when she's back on this side of the Atlantic. For now, you can take a hike before I call the cops.”

A plush pink lip juts out in an exaggerated pout, but he shrugs his shoulders in an admission of defeat. He plants his palms flat on the concrete, forgoing the ladder and the steps to lift himself out of the pool to stand directly in front of you.

Water spills off his pale shoulders, rivulets of it running down the planes of his back and body you have to purposefully tear your eyes away from. He's not even in a bathing suit, just the same pair of shredded black jeans cut off into shorts he mowed the lawn in just days prior.

He's still smirking as he takes one last, long look before he saunters away. And in spite of yourself, you glance over your shoulder to watch him as he goes, your eyes drawn to a tattoo of a broadsword that starts between his shoulders and runs down the full length of his spine, the tip of the blade ending just above the small of his back.

He pauses at the gate, smiling all sly when his eyes shoot back to you, clearly pleased to have caught you ogling him again—and fucking winks.

And he does leave, but now you’re all frustrated and flustered and too pent up to even attempt at relaxing now. So you give up on your swim and go to the store instead, the trip taking far longer than it should because you don't—or can't—stop yourself from thinking about this guy.

You’re certain he has to be messing with you. What else besides an ego boost would a young guy like him get out of flirting with someone like you? A divorcee a decade older than him? Please. He probably had his pick of the litter in a town as small as Hawkins. All dark and wild, mysterious and dangerous and…

God—why did he have to be so hot? It would be so much easier to ignore him if he weren't.

You finally get back home, cranky and tired and struggling under the weight of all your groceries. And when you push open the door and step into the foyer, you freeze in place again.

Because there he is. Splayed out on the couch, his knees spread wide, his long hair a little damp. Smiling at you all pleased with himself, like he’s been waiting for you. Cocky, even.

Like he planned it this way.

It all makes you gape, your mouth hanging open in total disbelief as you drop your bag at the door and draw your breath to snap at him.

"What are you—"

"Hey, you're home!"

Steve cuts you off as he strides into the living room, coming from the kitchen holding a couple of beers. He passes one to the guy on the couch, who's grinning like he ate a whole menagerie of canaries, and Steve nods in your direction.

"This is my aunt I was telling you about."

Those dark brown eyes rove freely over you now, no light shining in them this time as he smiles into the mouth of the bottle he's raising to his lips.

"Hey, there," he says, wiggling those long fingers at you all over again. "I'm Eddie."

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[theorphicangel]

hi again x2 last time lol can i get toji for displays of intimacy "massages after a long day" + caressing their cheek with your thumb" please? thank you!

a word from Angel: thank you for sending an ask!! I love love love this!!! I got a little carried away and made it a little angsty but I hope you enjoy either way :)

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

A click in the lock doesn’t startle you.

Legs swinging over the armrest of the chair you were sitting on, a tall raven haired figure comes into view. Immediately, your heart soars at the sight of your lover finally returning home.

The dark gray curtains were already drawn over the living room curtains, the summer sun long gone before making the promise to return early tomorrow. Your body rises, drawn to him like a magnet. With a shuffle, he removes his shoes, placing them next to yours.

A groan leaves Toji’s mouth as he stretches back up. You edge nearer towards him, waiting for the right moment, waiting for the right beat to lean in and place a kiss onto his lips.

It comes quickly, his body pausing and his arms outstretched to welcome you in. A husky scent fills your nostrils, an aroma much missed. Less than a second in your arms, it seems that the many hours of tension built up in Toji’s body is suddenly released — his shoulders sag with relief.

“How was your day?” you murmur into the crook of his neck. You’re on your tippy toes by now yet remain balanced as Toji’s hand is wrapped securely around your waist.

“Shit like always.” He responds, his voice gruff. “Missed you.”

It comes out as a mumble yet you hear him clearly, leaning in again for another kiss. Parting, you’re met with green eyes staring at you. He takes in your features as if he’s seeing them for the first time. In the comfortable silence the two of you stand in the hallway, holding each other tightly.

“I love you.”

Again, it leaves his throat in nothing louder than a whisper but you hear it loud and clear. Your hands cup his cheeks, right here you hold him as if he wasn’t the strongest assassin in the city.

No – you hold him as if he was the most fragile being to ever grace the earth. Without a thought, your thumb brushes over his cheek, caressing gently. Under your thumb, you notice his cheek beginning to grow with stumble.

After a pause, Toji’s hand envelopes your own and he places a soft kiss on your palm. In a blink of an eye, one soft kiss quickly turns into two, then three, four — your count is soon lost as your lungs deprive you of oxygen.

Regaining your ability to speak, you reply back with those three words. And Toji’s eyes crease as his lips turn upwards to smile.

/

“Are you good?”

You feel the vibration from Toji’s body as he hums in response. You have him lying on his front on your shared bed whilst you’re seated on the back of his large thighs, nothing but pure muscle underneath you.

Twisting the cap off the massage bottle, you pour a generous amount onto Toji’s back. The bottle was an unopened birthday gift, sitting in the back of your bathroom cabinet waiting for its use. You had completely forgotten about it until tonight.

You wanted to treat Toji and what better than a massage to help him relax.

Starting off slowly you spread the oil across his pace, palms gently rubbing his skin.

His back is littered with scars and scratches, all from his line of work. You take the chance to memorize each little one, taking care to not apply pressure in case they are still sore. You hated his job. More than hate. There was not a single word to describe your wrath against his job.

The two of you had had many conversations but it always came to the same conclusion.

He wouldn’t quit until he had made enough to give you the life you deserved and allow the two of you to live comfortably.

Of course, you were grateful. In fact you had told Toji that he didn’t need to go so far. Just having him was enough. But being the stubborn ass he is, he didn’t listen.

One of your deepest fears – one you could barely admit to yourself – was the idea of him not returning one night. Every time he returns late, similar to today, your mind immediately jumps to the worst.

You know you shouldn’t worry, he’s the best in his profession but you can’t help but fear that Toji will make a rash decision. An impulsive decision before thinking it through or misreading the opponent's attack. Just one wrong move and you’d be sleeping in an empty bed—

“You treat me too well, doll.” Toji interrupts, speaking in the midst of the comfortable silence.

Even without facing you, Toji could tell when you were stuck within the realms of your thoughts. Your silence spoke louder to him than anyone. Either something had pissed you off or made you upset. Judging by his late return tonight he figures it was the latter. (Or both.)

“You deserve it.” Your voice is light, a smile appearing on your lips. It’s a little forced but you truly mean your words. Lately, you’ve noticed his eyebags growing prominent, his body and muscles tense and sore from overworking his body.

Now you have the chance to work away at the knots and areas of tension in his body, Toji letting out a groan here and there at your palms massaging his muscles.

“You don’t have to worry about me, you know that don’t you, doll?”

This was his attempt to try and ease your mind, however it seemed that no matter what he’d said you would always be worrying about him.

You hum, hands now working at his shoulders. “I know.” Toji hears you take a deep inhale. “It’s just—” you pause, wondering how to phrase it. You’re often not that blunt but for weeks you’ve had this thought nagging at your lower gut, spreading nothing but pure anxiety across your body, making it hard to breathe each day.

“I just worry sometimes…” your voice lowers into nothing more but a whisper, as if you’re afraid to admit it outloud. “I just worry that there’ll be a day where you won’t come home.”

There’s a long pause in the room, so long in fact that you think Toji didn’t hear you. Or ignored you.

It’s a long minute before Toji reaches to tap at your thigh, signaling you to move. With a grunt, the mattress shifts under his weight, Toji moves to face you.

Dark green eyes latch onto your own, his body shifting towards you. Again, your nostrils fill with his husky scent. Toji grabs at your wrists to pull you closer, onto his lap. His palms grasp onto yours, not minding the stickiness of your palms from the massage oil.

“Look at me, doll.” His voice is quiet yet holds a stern tone. You take in his features in the dim lighting of the bedroom. “I would never take these jobs in the first place if I knew I couldn’t handle it. If I knew that there was even the slimmest chance of me not making it home, I’d never take it. Ever.”

You listen intently, picking up on Toji’s clarification.

“Just a little longer and I’ll stop taking these jobs for you. I’ll find something else to ease your mind. Is that okay? I just want to give you the life that you deserve.”

You nod at Toji’s words. “I understand. I want you to be safe, that’s all.”

“And I am safe. I’m more than capable for these jobs. Do you trust me, love?”

You glance up at Toji. His eyes are soft, creasing a little. Only now do you realize that he’s trying to reassure you.

A small smile tugs at your lips. “Always.”

“Good.” Reflecting you, the corners of his lips curl. A small kiss is placed on your lips, dispelling your fears even further.

“I’ll always be coming home to you — no matter what — remember that, doll.”

reblogs are much appreciated!

join my summer event!

[chihoshisai]

Nothing Twisted

Sukuna x Reader

warnings : masochist reader implied, choking, power imbalance // wc : 1,057

“What do you want from me?” Sukuna inquired, his voice devoid of emotions yet not without a hint of arrogance. 

You gulped, having always found Sukuna both menacing and enticing — from the cold layer that glazed his eyes, the markings that adorned his rugged body and the manner in which he regarded people as even lower than insects. To think that such a being could exist alongside your insignificant self fascinated you.  

Eyes inches away from the ground as you kneeled per his earlier command, you fixated your gaze upon your hands, cold sweat dripping from every inch of your body like a waterfall. As you watched your bodily fluid drip from your nose to form a poodle upon the tiles of his mansion — in which he had allowed you to work as a servant — the thought that he might sever your head for the simple act of soiling his floor increased the fearful reaction of your body. 

Until today, tirelessly working your limbs, you relinquished in every opportunity granted to admire him from afar like a shy maiden — too afraid to speak or interact with the object of your infatuation as it would be deemed improper. And because your head would roll if the tiniest sound ever escaped your lips unprompted. 

You were not to speak unless spoken to.  

With that in mind, you pondered over your answer — what would be appropriate for the most horrifying curse user of the Heian Era to allow you to keep the measly life you had been granted thus far ? Countless times you had imagined what a conversation with such a being would be, and many times did you perceive it unfolding under the deluded impression that there was even an ounce of kindness in the man. 

But reality was cruel, and so was Sukuna. Your heart had gotten ahead of itself, being blinded by his undeniable beauty. Now that you pitifully were about to kiss the ground, your fight or flight system manifested how foolish those feelings had been, frivolous even, almost bringing you to tears. Despite all that, his voice sounded like honey to your ears, enticing, inviting, leaving you wondering whether something had awakened in you due to the fear or if your mind had already lost it.

Enough dwelling, your thoughts screamed throughout your body, accelerating your heart and further increasing your erratic breathing. Remaining silent for too long would also spell your doom.

“I want nothing,” you answered with a clear voice, lips shaking as you distracted yourself by the sight of your soiled fingernails. 

“Do you think I haven’t noticed how you’ve been secretly looking at me?” He insisted. 

Clenching your teeth in embarrassment after hearing that you’ve been found out, you lowered your head furthermore. “I want nothing,” you repeated.

“How boring,” Sukuna said, his tone unchanging. 

It was enough to convince yourself that you were safe, from death, from him — though temporarily — from danger as a whole. But, as you had been facing the ground all this time, you hadn’t taken notice of his change of movement, how without a sound, he got closer to you almost like snow falling on the ground. Until the moment his lean fingers nestled on your cheek, making their way to your chin and raising it up so you could face him. The unforeseen contact, foreign to your skin and somewhat threatening froze you. His eyes, the color of blood, deprived of any emotions alongside his placid smile made you realize how far gone he was from being human. 

The proximity didn’t stop your ridiculous heart from skipping a beat, and you felt thankful that your sweat filled face didn’t seem to visibly bother him. 

“I’ll keep you alive because you do your job well,” Sukuna spoke arrogantly, his fingers slightly tilting your head up. His remark reduced the rate of your heartbeat, and your tensed up muscles relaxed feeling that the worst had passed. But the man was twisted — he grinned, somewhat ominously and your eyes widened in fear as though they had just beared witness to all the evil in the world. 

“Humans feel more motivated when they are rewarded and praised for their work,” Sukuna began, his fingers sliding down your throat, “I’ll reward you so you can keep going a bit longer.” 

The feeling of your breath being caught at your throat, almost unable to exit your parted lips surprisingly rejoiced your body. Even your heart accelerated in anticipation whilst your very being hung on Sukuna’s last word, awaiting for him to act. 

There were many things that you had come to learn after serving under Sukuna, and one of them was to instinctively let your arms limp by your side — fighting the urge to grip him, to feel more of him — as there was no forgiving any attempt at touching this otherworldly being. 

The sight Sukuna saw must have pleased him, since he brought your trapped neck close enough to land an aggressive kiss. Ruthlessly. That’s how he treated you, firming his grip on your neck and restraining your ability to breathe even more whilst biting your lips to the point the iron taste of blood filled your mouth. He devoured you. 

Dizzy, but still maintaining control over your body, you fought desperately to refrain from trying to rip apart the fingers that obstructed your throat. The many daydreams you had throughout the past did include one too many kisses exchanged with Sukuna, but this was far beyond your imagination. Life was dwindling out of you, and with cloudy thoughts, it was impossible to tell whether you enjoyed it or not. Simply, you consoled yourself with the idea that at the very least, his touch would remain on your body for a while. A memento from a sadistic moment shared together.

Blood dripped from the corner of your mouth, mingled with saliva as Sukuna pulled back to allow air to flow in your lungs. Once again, the ground filled your vision, as your body dropped to the floor, coughing erratically.       

“Now go back to work,” his commanding words echoed through your mind. Keeping your crouched position, you promptly exited the room without so much as uttering a single word, let alone tempt a glance in the direction of the man who would continue to be the source of your twisted infatuation.

[erajoie07]

Honey, I'm home! : Aemond Targaryen x OC (AU)

Writer's Note: It's been so long since I last posted something here. I thought I'd write you all a flash fiction of Aemond, my dearest. Hope you all enjoy it! Thank you for reading!

Warning: mentions of death

When I married Aemond, I vowed to him that he shall always embody the man I’ve always wanted as I did before that. Our life together in matrimony was full of bliss and unrelenting love and devotion for one another.

It was August 4 when I received the call. A call thought to be relief, turned out to be grief. My husband’s life was on the line. Aemond's heart was beating but wasn’t pumping blood, if not for the medicine they injected just to keep him from moving out of the light.

I called all my sisters to give their heart and solidarity for me for losing him was never an intention.

“He’s gone?! Daemon!” The walls will know who I cried for that wee morning. Hysterical and full of endless hope that he’ll live. “Daemon! Guard his side, don’t leave him alone. Aemond! I’m coming, please hold on!”

Aemond gave me everything be owned and supported me with all his will. The house knows that. They have witnessed he had broken nearly all his bones and strained every muscle for me.

Soon, I arrived at the hospital in nothing but my robe on. I didn’t care to dress gently and appropriately. All I wanted was for Aemond to come back home.

“Aemond?” My voice in a trembling roar. My sisters consoled me. I watched the nurse tried to revive my husband with a manual ventilator near his mouth. The sound it makes as it delivers oxygen to his lungs.

“Aemond! What happened? Aemond, I’m here. Fea will board the bus later.”

Fea disassociated when I called her on the phone announcing that they are reviving her dad. How is Aemond going to walk his daughter on the stage knowing that he will no longer?

“Aemond,” I held his hand. “Aemond, Fea wanted you to join us on stage for her graduation.”

The nurse called another. I was told that they have been reviving my husband for what seemed hours. I was asked to step back. Fine straight lines were received from that endless revival.

“Aemond! Fea will be here soon. She misses you so much. Forgive me for my miscommunication, and Fea’s stubbornness. Sorry, Aemond!”

Aemond just waited for me before he stepped out of life.

His hand was cold. I thought I would only look men carrying a dead body to the morgue in films. Never once did I imagine my husband would be that body.

When it was time to bring the body back into the house. O’ Death proved to be the ugly one. The cross-stitches no longer hang on the walls. The couch that leaned comfortably was moved. The tables and chairs were pushed. All these familiarity that settled and stayed through thick and thin for 15 years were gone for a whole week of mourning. Even after we buried Aemond, I can’t apprehend the fact that there will be firsts in the house that saw him for 18 years. First Christmas without him. First New Year’s without him. First Valentine’s without him. Even his birthday and our anniversary would be firsts without him.

Aemond still resides in my mind though I continue to move forward. After I got home from work, as I habit, I shouted to the house, “Aemond! I’m home!”

“I’m in the kitchen, darling.”

The End

[silentprincessandsweethibiscus]

Four Minus one:

Chapter 3- Arson is a Totally Valid Pastime: Just a little lighthearted fun amongst the chaos squad, what could possibly go wrong?

And its done! this chapter took so much longer to write than i anticipated. it was giving me trouble right from the get-go, and then another hyper fixation decided to consume my whole brain for about a month, so im just glad to be putting this one up tbh. the next one is already in the works, and going better then this did, and the one after that is done, so fingers crossed i shouldnt disappear for over a month again.

The group of Links had fallen into an easy rhythm. Working in a team was a bit difficult for some of them, but a larger chunk than Four had expected fell into it at least somewhat naturally. Warriors, Sky, and surprisingly Wild all attributed it to being knights. Or at least, in Wild’s case, having the muscle memory of being a knight. Time vaguely mentioned something about a War. Wind talked about his life at sea. Twilight joked that it was no different to herding the kids back home, and refused to elaborate on if he meant goats or Hylian kids. Legend and Hyrule were the only two that really struggled with it. Although, it was easy enough to drag Wild and Wind into some kind of trouble as well. 

Which is exactly what was happening now. Wild, Wind, and Hyrule were all trying to talk Four into helping them with, something. They were honestly a bit unsure, with the three of them all talking over each other, but Wild had promised vegetable risotto for dinner if they helped, and there was no way Four was about to turn that down.

“I still don’t understand what it is you even need me for.” They looked up at the three, book open in their lap. Wild had not waited for Four to acknowledge them before they started talking, so Four had been unable to put it away before starting this conversation, and they were honestly a bit glad it wasn’t in Hylian, as they were pretty sure none of the three knew any other languages.

“Because it’s, like,” Wind thought about it for a moment. “It's like an experiment! Come on Four, you love those!”

“Plus,” Hyrule added, “Time says we need a ‘responsible Link’ if we are gonna walk away from camp to do anything with fire.” Four was fairly certain that Hyrule was adding on a bonus reason, not implying that Four wouldn’t also enjoy whatever chaos they wanted to get into, but they still raised their eyebrow in question of the phrasing.

Wild also recognized how that sentence could be misconstrued and elbowed Hyrule in the side. “But we were totally gonna invite you to help us anyways.”

Four laughed at that. “You better.” They gave the other three a wicked grin and dropped their voice to just above a whisper. “But, the longer Time, Twilight, and Warriors think I’m responsible the better. For all four of us.”

They got matching grins back from Wild and Hyrule, and a hearty “Whoop!” from Wind as they packed their book back away, and the four of them set off, away from camp. It was at this point that Four realized each of them had a flaming item in hand. Wild had a meteor rod, Wind his bow, and Hyrule had a fire rod Four was almost certain fea had ‘borrowed’ from Legend. 

As they walked, Four put some thought into it before pulling out their gust jar. “You three seem to have the fire covered, I’ve got this. Can put it out real quick if I need to be the responsible one, but that’s not the only thing it can do.”

As they got to the clearing Wild started pulling out firewood. “You are on ‘documentation’ and ‘put out’ duty then. We wanna see which item can make the biggest blaze before it runs out. Twenty bundles of wood for each of us should be a decent start.”

“Only twenty?” Hyrule raised an eyebrow. “We use like, three or four to start the campfire.”

“Yea,” Wind nodded, practically vibrating as he bounced around from foot to foot. “I feel like twenty is lowballing it a bit Wild.” Four laughed. “I’m with Wild. We want to see which item will make the largest blaze, not start a forest fire.” Pulling out one of their journals from their pack they began drawing up some charts to record the coming information on. “Twenty is more than enough to start.”

Wind blew a raspberry at Four. “Aw come on man, what happened to you not being a responsible Link?” “This isn’t responsible, this is knowing that starting a forest fire would skew our results.” They looked up from the journal. “I want accuracy.”

“And I don’t want an earful from Legend later.” Hyrule added with a chuckle, seeming like fae had just considered how upset faer’s predecessor would be if they got into any trouble out here.

“Right.” Wild nodded as they put down the last pile, all three of them set evenly around the clearing. “Then that's settled. There’s huge areas without trees in both mine and Rulie’s eras if we need to replicate this with a bigger pile later.” “This is a test experiment for the time being.” Four added with a nod. They stood in the middle of the clearing, gust jar at the ready, taking notes as the other three worked. They had to chase down several misfires from Wilds meteor rod, and it was the first to break. Followed by Hyrules magic for the fire rod running out, then Winds fire arrows. The blazes all seemed the same at the end of it, which would say some interesting things about the meteor rod, but all three of the fires seemed to be as big as they were gonna get without more wood, so the results were largely inconclusive. 

Four mused that when they had the chance they would have to replicate the experiment with a few different wood pile sizes as Hyrule drank a potion for the magic depletion and the other two packed up their stuff. Four began to mumble to themself, scratching more notes into their journal while trying to block out Wind and Wilds roughhousing in the background.

Wild said something and there was a blissful moment of silence from their friends before Four heard the telltale whistle of an arrow and felt someone shove them. Snapping back into focus, and throwing the journal into their pouch with practiced ease, Four made a quick check of their surroundings. They noted Hyrule in front of them, faer’s reflect spell dissipating after a moment, Wild was to their left, and Wind in place beside Hyrule. All four heroes pulled out their swords, just in time for the clearing to fill with Wind’s era’s miniblin. Further assessment determined the arrows to be coming from a few of Sky’s bokoblins hiding between the trees. 

The four of them quickly got to work, dancing around each other and taking out the miniblins, but the archers were creating a decent obstacle. They managed to cut the miniblins' numbers down by about a quarter, but the fewer of them there were the easier it became for the bokoblins to hit the heroes, instead of their own allies. An arrow managed to strike true, hitting Wind in the leg, making him stumble and miss the miniblin he was aiming for. Four jumped in to cover for him as he shouted obscenities that would make Blue both proud and horrified.

Wind took the cover to yank the arrow out and glared at the trees. “We need to take out the archers!”

There was a flash of blue as Wild exchanged their sword for a bow. “Four, you and I take them?” “Agreed. Wind, you’ve got me.” It was a statement, not a question, but Wind still nodded as he and Four traded places so Four could exchange their own weapons out. “I've got the Eastern half if you have the Western?”

Wild didn’t respond as they got into position, and the two still fighting with swords got back into a rhythm of covering them from miniblin attacks as they worked. Soon enough the bokoblin archers were dealt with, and the two Hylian archers turned their bows on the closer threat.

“At least these all seem to be normal monsters,” Wind chimed in as he took out another one, “None of them seem to have black blood.” “Don’t jinx us sailor, the fights not over yet.”  Four shouted as they shot a miniblin rounding on Hyrule. On que there was a booming roar and the group felt the ground shake. Fortunately for the heroes, the few remaining miniblins all shrieked and scattered. Unfortunately for them, a moment later a lynel entered the clearing.

“Shit! It's one of mine!” Wild replaced their bow for the oddest looking weapon Four had ever seen as they dodged an attack from their newest opponent. “Everyone scatter! Take it from different sides, and whatever you do, avoid its front!”

They watched as Wild immediately did exactly the opposite of what they just warned, crouching down right in the lynel’s path, and as Hyrule ran to the monster left, fae yelled in horror. “What are you doing?”

Wind and Four took the right as Wild shot up with a burst of air. The lynel stopped suddenly when its target shot out of view, giving the other three time to strike before it roared and turned to the biggest threat, shooting fire breath at the spot Four and Wind were in. Four yelped and jumped to its left, and Wind to its right. With Hyrule now at its back the three managed a few more hits before a blur flew down towards the monster's back. Despite its size Wild managed to slam the strange weapon against it several times in quick succession before the lynel finally dropped in a puff of smoke.

There were a few tense moments as they all waited for something else to come out of the woods. When nothing did Hyrule rounded on Wind and pointed at the ground. Wind threw up his hands and took a step back. “Whoa, whoa, I’m fine. Let's get back to camp first.”

“Unwise.” Four looked down at the spot where the arrow had pierced Wind. “Time and Warriors are already going to fuss over that wound as is. Would you prefer it to be open when they do? That would just give them more of a reason.”

There was a bark before Wolfie tried to gently make Wind sit with his paw. “See,” Wild added, “Even Wolfie agrees with Four.” There was a pause as Wind agreed with a grumble before Wild processed what they just said. “Oh Fuck! Wolfie!”

Wild’s wolf companion fixed them with an exasperated glare, barked once, booped Hyrule’s ankle with his nose, then fixed his glare back on Wild. Hyrule just nodded in response. “Read you loud and clear Wolfie. Wild, you're next.”

“No need. I just slammed it a bit hard on my landing there.” They pulled out their slate and started swiping the screen. “I just need a red potion. Four, do you need one?”

Four shook their head in response. “Nah, just some scrapes and bruises over here. I’ll probably bandage up a few of them when we get back to camp, but no need to waste a potion on any of it.”

“I want to look you over first, but you’re right, no need to waste a potion on that.”  Hyrule nodded as fae healed up Wind’s leg. 

Four agreed and Hyrule made quick work of checking them all over. Once fae declared them all clear enough to head back they turned to follow Wolfie back to camp. Sure that the four heroes were following him, the wolf shot off ahead, presumably to let the others know they were all fine and on their way back.

“So.” Wind dragged the single syllable out to an almost outrageous degree before continuing with a sigh. “How much trouble do you think we’re in?”

“I think that is entirely dependent on how long Wolfie was there.” Four mused. “Because if he saw the experiment, we might just be fucked.”

Wind snorted at their cursing as Wild shook their head. “He would have stepped in earlier if he was watching the whole time. He must have come when he heard the lynel.”

“It’s a wonder he’s the only one who came.” Hyrule was still on high alert, eyes and ears to the forest as they walked, but luckily whatever monsters had survived the encounter seem to have well and truly fled.

“We are all capable heroes, the others probably just sent Wolfie ahead as a precaution.” All of them, save Wild, Four supposed, had multiple quests under their belts, there was no reason for the others to second guess their abilities.

“Fours right! It was just one Lynel, we have all dealt with worse individually.” Wind was annoyed at the prospect of the others not trusting them to handle themselves. “It’d be pretty rude of them to assume we couldn’t handle it.”

“Right,” Wild nods in agreement, “So they probably sent Wolfie while they all got ready to go if there was a problem, since he’s the fastest.”

“Or they sent him because of that.” Hyrule interrupted the others' current trail of thought to point out the portal sitting dead center in the middle of their camp, or what was left of it anyways. While they had been fighting monsters in the woods the other Links had been packing up all their stuff so they could all move quickly once they got back.

Time tossed Wind his bag while Sky and Legend handed Four and Hyrule theirs. “Any injuries?”

“Nothing I haven't already dealt with.” Legend was fussing over Hyrule, despite faer’s confirmation that they were all fine, and Four couldn’t help but chuckle at how much of a mother cucco he was when it came to Hyrule.  “The four of us are all right to go.”

“Alright, good. We’ll discuss further what happened once we have settled in on the other side.” Time nodded in approval and moved towards the portal. “Alright, everyone, buddy up.” Four whispered to Wild as they and Sky walked past to take their place in line. “I’d better still be getting my vegetable risotto.”

Wild laughed as Twilight tilted his head in confusion next to them. “Don’t worry smithy, a promise is a promise. Dinners your call tonight.”

Four almost felt bad about the disappointed look on Twilight's face at that. “Good.” Almost. They smirked at their little victory. The small group's little arson detour didn’t actually have any discernible results, but they certainly had quite a few new notes for the journal they had been keeping on the other heroes, so the bribery was really unnecessary, but they wouldn’t be giving up their prize regardless. Four and Sky were the last two through the portal, and the others were already setting up camp on the other side, Wild's cooking pot set up with a small fire heating it from underneath.

[skylarsblue]

Jasie Voorhees.

Buff 6’2” forest lady.

Struggles with her hair because it’s hard for her to grow it evenly, so she settles for an asymmetrical cut. She won’t shave it cause it makes her feel more pretty.

10/10 smoochable butch forest wife.

Michelle A. Myers

Athletic build and mega tall. 6’7-6’8” grunge lady.

Her hair is an absolute rats nest, but she won’t bother to cut/brush it. Honestly, it’ll be easier to chop the majority if it than try to sift through all the knots.

If resting bitch face had a mascot.

Dalia “Jenna Olsen” Johnson

We love a tiny trans Asian lady. She can absolutely kick my ass while making terrible one liner puns. we stan her.

Lean and subtly muscular, do not be deceived by her unassuming 5’1-5’2” height. She has a blood lust that’s insatiable and a grip good enough to break your hands.

“Jenna” however is just a playful and sweet lady, totally not a cover for Dalia’s maniacal stabby needs. Jenna makes cookies for the office, Dalia makes homicide headlines.

Bubby Sawyer

I honestly love her the most- Unapologetically made her a squishy precious bunny, I don’t even care if it’s inaccurate, I love her. Best wife. I would give my left leg just to have the privilege to spoil her.

Stands at about 5’7” and all that extra squish is great for her sisters to hug. Are dresses hard to find? Yes, but it’s fine! She can’t adjust them with her trusty sewing machine.

She does indeed make her own jewelry. Yeah, they’re made of teeth and stuff but hey! She’s thrifty.

Breah Heelshire

This woman absolutely has back problems from bending to climb through the walls. Clingy wall wife needs attention. In any form.

Stands at exactly 5’6” and is an unassuming body type. She appears thin and frail, a fast metabolism is to thank for the most part. This is amplified by her loose clothing, but do not be fooled, her boney hands have strength. Be wary of her handshakes, she’s gotten bad at grip control.

If I didn’t struggle drawing it so much she’d absolutely be featured with body hair. (I’m still practicing, I’m trying I swear-)

Thea Hewitt

STRONG WIFE BUFF WIFE BIG WIFE

Is just shy of 6’0” by a few centimeters. She’s got a lot of muscle under a layer of softness, perfect for hugs. Covered in freckles & scars that are perfect to smooch.

She is very insecure about not being conventionally feminine, makes her think that (on top of her skin problems/face) she’d be a terrible spouse, so no one will want her. SHE IS WRONG! She is best wife. Those strong arms were made for snuggles, damnit.

Bo-Lynn Sinclair

Do not call her by her full name, just pick one of the parts and stick with it. Say “Bo” or say “Lynn”. Using her full name will get you throat punched.

She actually takes her physique rather seriously, she’s pretty proud of her toned muscles and thinks it suits her relatively butch type. The fact she’s 5’8” helps, obviously. BUT SHE HAS SOME SQUISHY! Mostly in her stomach, it’s not as much as Bubby or Thea, but it is there!

Her hair is so damn frizzy though. Do you know what happens when you take wavy/slightly curly, thick hair and put it in humid-hot weather? Disaster. Disaster happens.

Veronica Sinclair

You can’t tell me she didn’t have an emo phase in middle school, she still wears her hair like it./hj Her hair is so silky smooth though, she takes very good care of it. ...ignore all the wax & paint in it.

5’8” with a nearly identical body to her twin, just less muscular, because she doesn’t focus on that kind of exercise. She’s too focused on her art.

I think that Vincent can actually talk, just not very well, and he chooses not too. So I think Veronica would have an angelic voice, even if she struggles with some words because her scar travels to the side of her mouth.

Leslie Sinclair

Listen, I know I made this design, but I’m very gay for it. I’m not trying to be egotistical, but I think I made her adorable, and I love her.

She doesn’t resemble her twins as much as they resemble each other for obvious reasons, but she has a few features that are easy to pick out amongst all three of them. Still, she has some obvious differences too. More weight in the hips & thighs, thinner facial features, 5’5-5’6”, and with less muscle bulk. She has the fastest metabolism.

She keeps her hair short so it doesn’t get in the way. Leslie will usually tie a handkerchief around her head to push it back further. She’s always out gathering stuff(hence all her bracelets & necklaces), long hair would get things stuck in it & get caught on things. So eventually she just chopped it all with craft scissors.

Billie Lenz

Her name was the most obvious change, I could’ve been more creative but listen, whatever Billy’s energy is, it screams the name Billy, so it stays.

5’0” and small enough to hide in your closet. She’s perfect size & flexible enough to sneak into your cupboards. Sneaky lady with poofy hair & a lot of harmful stims.

Billie is bumping into shit, constantly. Bruises everywhere. And she scratches at her collarbones a lot, if you couldn’t tell. Please help her replace this habit, she’s gonna scar so bad- She picks at the scabs! She’s gonna get an infection I swear-

[facebass]

Follow me for more bass for your face. Got Muscle (feat. Peewee Longway & WaveIQ) by GoldLink, Peewee Longway, WaveIQ https://ift.tt/2VeKfXc

[joestarwhore]

NSFW Yandere Josuke (18+) x Female reader

his little darling managed to escape her obsessive and derange boyfriend house while he was gone.

She trys to get help and does but the good samaritan is Jotaro who leads her back to Josuke thinking she was over reacting.

Josuke angry she escape he takes her back home and has idea to keep her safe and home by finally putting a ring on her

Like The Ocean Finds The Shore (NSFW 18+)

Authors Note: 18+ ONLY. if you’re a minor please find another blog, this writings and scripts are not written for your audience. thank you bb!

You didn’t know what made it worse. The tears in your eyes? Or maybe it was the pouring rain in the pitch black night; never the less, you were barely able to make out where you were, much less which direction you were going. The muscles in your body screamed for relief, the gashes angrily stinging against the rain, pushing you to run far, far away from the house that became your personal Hell.

Anywhere was better than being with him.

Your legs burned as you pushed yourself down the hill, gaining as much distance as you could away from Josuke. You couldn’t help to think of the events that led to this; gaining a stand from Keijo, meeting Koichi in odd circumstances, all the tiny little interactions that led to you accidentally tripping over a brick. Right into Josuke’s unmoving backside.

The thunder was incredibly deafening, lighting up the city of Morioh below you. You didn’t know if Josuke had discovered your absence yet, but you knew you had to be far away from him when he did. You knew it was just a matter of time.

Suddenly the grass became concrete, and concrete became asphalt. Relief flooded through you as you realized that you had finally made it into city limits. You looked around for any sign of safety you could take, your sights finally landing on the Grand Morioh Hotel.

‘Oh my god, Jotaro!’ You started sprinting towards the doors, bypassing any on looker or someone saying any comment to you, all you cared about was finding the receptionist and finding Jotaro. You ran down the hall to the Plaza, seeing the nice attendant lady who always seemed to be the one working for the desk. As soon as she saw you approach, her smile went from one of welcome to a grimace of worry. “Oh my word sweetie, are you okay?? Do you need any help??”

You leaned on the desk for a second to catch your breath. “Actually.. yes there is something.. you could do..”, you took a deep breath, “can you tell me what room Jotaro Kujo is in? We’re related & we have a family member in the hospital and it’s imperative that I fill him in on what’s going on.” Not the best lie you’ve ever told but at this point, you couldn’t afford to be precise. The desk attendant nodded with assured hums, “Yes honey of course, give me just one second.”

You breathed in relief. Thank God. Josuke definitely knew by now that you were gone, & would absolutely be searching for you. Finding Jotaro gave you a little hope for safety but even still; Josuke was relentless.

“Okay darlin, 8th floor, 6th suite, it’ll be the one at the very end!!” Relief swept over you as you quickly expressed your thanks, sprinting up the stairs towards your destination. ‘This is utterly insane’ you thought to yourself; you were running from your deranged boyfriend to his nephew that’s a decade older than he is. Your clothes were torn, wet, your skin was bruised and bleeding out, a state of being you weren’t familiar with.

The raw emotion you felt as you reach Jotaro’s door can only be described as a broken hallelujah. You banged on his door as hard as you can, not stopping until Jotaros towering frame swung the door open.

“(Y/N)? What are you doing here?” His stone cold expression seemed to always be unwavering, but at the sight of you his eyes betrayed him. “What the hell happened to you?” You tried to speak, but no words came out, simply emotion ridden gasps between sobs. Jotaro took your arm and led you in, showing you to a seat by the fireplace & brought you a hot mug of coffee. You gave him a grateful look as you took the cup, Jotaro taking the seat in front of you with a first aid kit. “What happened to you?? Is this from an enemy stand user?”

You couldn’t help but give a lifeless giggle. Certainly felt like it, didn’t it?

Jotaro let you sit in silence for a second while he cleaned the wounds gracing your arms & face, carefully watching your facial expression for any sign of emotion, anything to hint at what might be going on. You didn’t even know where to start in explaining it, or even a way to explain how this happened.

Jotaro took your chin in his hand and turned your face towards his. “(Y/N), who did this to you?” The concern in his eyes made you feel the most cared about you’ve been in months. If you could tell anyone, it’d be Jotaro.. right?”

“It.. it’s Josuke.. When we started dating he was so good to me, he was charming & caring, he’d take time out of his day to spend time with me & would make sure i felt his love; but his actions just.. escalated. He was everywhere. He would text me throughout the day about what i was doing, saying certain comments about my outfits or what stores i was in, he ALWAYS knew.” Jotaro listened intently as he wrapped your forearm in gauze, giving you a nod it was okay to keep proceeding with what you were saying. “All of a sudden one day my land lord calls me to let me know that I was being evicted out of nowhere and i had 24 hours to leave. The same day, Josuke signed the deed to his Mom’s house & told me I could live with him. I just thought it was a crazy coincidence, I didn’t think Josuke would actually ever get me evicted. Then i found my land lords phone number in his pocket book. When I asked him about it he pretended like he didn’t know, and when i kept asking he..” The memory of him holding you against the wall, his knee putting pressure onto your slit, made you visibly cringe. The way he touched you.. it was so possessive, so needy, his eyes portraying one visible message. ‘I own you.’

Jotaro closed the first aid kit & put it under the seat he was at, a pack of pills in his hand. Jotaro silently put the two pills in your hand & got you a glass of water. “I’m sorry you’re going through this & I’m sorry you’ve been hurt so badly. The pills are a sleeping pill & a pain relief supplement, take those and you can sleep in my bed. I’ll handle everything in the morning.” You looked at the two white pills in your hand & threw them to the back of your throat, quickly chasing them with the glass of water he gave you. Jotaro gave you a pair of pajama pants and a t shirt, and helped you lay in the bed. “Goodnight, (Y/N). I’ll see you in the morning.”

You don’t remember anything past that.

__________________________________

When you woke in the morning, you were blinded by direct sunlight. You squinted your eyes as tight as you could, noticing that you were being held up my two arms that were walking at a brisk pace. Gently adjusting your eyes to open, you looked up to see Jotaro, a determined glare in his eyes.

“J..Jotaro where are we?” you whispered the best you could manage. Jotaro gave you a glance down before returning his eyes to the path.

“I called Josuke.”, Your heart drops into your stomach. He wouldn’t.. he couldn’t.. “He says you lost your apartment because your anti psychotics put you out of a job, & he had your landlords number to pay your moving out fees for you.”

You shook your head in disbelief, “No, no no no Jotaro that’s a lie, i’m not on anti-psychotics, I don’t have any sort of med like that, he’s fucking lying to you!!”

Jotaro gave you an expectant look. “That’s the other thing Josuke said. You’ve been flushing them down the drain instead of taking them like you’re supposed to. Josuke only wants to take care of you, (Y/N). There’s nothing to fear of him.”

“JOTARO, I HAVE NEVER TAKEN THOSE PILLS IN MY LIFE AND YOU FUCKING KNOW”- You saw a giant purple hand come over your face and cover your mouth, restraining you from saying anymore. “I’m sorry (Y/N), but this is what’s best for you.”

You heard a door in the distance open, and Jotaro looking up and locking eyes with someone. The voice you heard next made your spine freeze, and dread pierce your soul.

“Jotaro!! Thank you SO much for bringing (Y/N) back!!”

No.. Not again..

“Not a problem Josuke, i’d rather have assurance of (Y/N)‘s safety myself then just send her back here on a bus.”

You slowly looked over, finally catching sight of your boyfriend. His tall, muscular form loomed dangerously in the door way of his house, his pompadour reminding you of so many events, so many violations of your body..

God its sick that it was making you wet.

Jotaro set you on your feet in front of josuke, letting Star Platinums hand uncover your mouth.

You couldn’t look at him.

Josukes hand ran through your hair, “(Y/N) is all okay now that she’s here with me.” He put his other hand under your chin, lifting to meet you eye to eye. It was everything you remembered. Lust, anger, relief, and above all else: obsession.

Jotaro and Josuke bid their farewells. Hands on your hips steered you into the living room, Josuke gently closing the door behind you. You could feel his eyes bore into the back of your skull, your mind erratic with anxiety. God, what’s he gonna do??

“Y’know, you didnt have to run away. You didn’t have to leave me. You didn’t have to be SO FUCKING UNGRATEFUL.” Josuke threw a chair at the wall in front of you, the force of it making you fall backwards onto your back. You gasped as your back collided with the floor, seeing Josukes towering frame turning towards you. He kneels down straddling you, the obsession of his eyes terrifying as he wrapped his long fingers around your throat. Adrenaline went straight between your legs.

“I do everything for you, (Y/N). I house you. I feed you. I FUCKING TAKE CARE OF YOU.” Josuke ripped apart your shirt, shoving his knee on your hot slit, making you gasp in surprise. Josukes delicate features possess a hunger that you remember all too well. “I also make you feel good don’t i??” He removed one of his hands from your throat to attack your nipple with, making you arch your back & moan. Josuke bit his lip in ecstasy as he shoved his middle finger down your slit, swirling it around in your hot heat. Josukes mouth rested against your temple as you gasped in pleasure, sickly wanting him to just take you then & there.

Josuke slowed down his finger, gently massaging your clit at a comfortable pace. “I’m sorry if it was because you felt unloved. If that’s the case, I really promise to be better. Because you can’t leave me, (Y/N). You’re mine, my little princess, my sweet baby girl,” His fingers started to assault you again. You heard a zipper get tugged town, and Josukes hips sweetly grind against yours. “My little fucking slut.”

You started to panic as you felt the tip of his rock hard cock press against your heat, your adrenaline skyrocketing. He’s delirious. “JoJo honey please, d-dont make me do this i’m so fucking sc-“

Josukes hand slapped your cheek, making you yelp in pain, quickly resulting in your moth being covered once again. “No, you don’t get a say. You were a bad girl, baby. And bad girls-“

Your scream was strained as he bottomed out his 8 inch cock inside you. “-they get punished.”

Josuke rammed inside of you, yourself being pummeled into the floor as he chanted “Mine, mine, mine, -FUCK-, MINE!!” His dick assaults your G-Spot as you felt an orgasm start to build in your stomach.

“Are you gonna cum baby? Does my little fuckinf slut want to cum??” Josuke slapped your clit. “TELL ME WHO OWNS YOU.”

Pleasure overruled the mine on this one. “It’s you baby! It’s always been you and it always will, I promise I’ll never leave you again just-“ you squealed as you felt your build up about to break. “PLEASE LET ME CUM JOSUKE PLEASE!!”

“Uggh FUCK, cum on my fucking cock (Y/N) show me who OWNS you.” Josukes duet of lust and rage amplified as you exploded all over him, your moans and screams sounding like siren calls to himself. Josuke rutted into you, filling you to the brim with himself. He laid himself by you, wrapping his arms around your overstimulated frame. You laid there for a couple of minutes trying to catch your breath, your heart rate soaring. You could hear Josukes soft giggles beside you as you felt a hand caress your cheek. You looked him into his eyes, seeing the unconditional love and obsession. The never ending love and obsession.

Josuke sweetly kisses your cheek, holding you in his arms as he gently picks up your left hand. You felt a cold circle of metal grace your ring finger, slipping on perfectly. Fear gripped your heart as you realized what it was.

“My pretty baby.. my gorgeous doll,” Josuke rolled ontop of you and held your face in his hands. “This will make sure we’re always together. You & me, husband and wife!! My perfect, beautiful, fuckable wife..”

Tears started to slide down your face.

So, this was defeat.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), will you be my wife?”

You looked at the alabaster ceiling. This wasn’t possible for you. This couldn’t be happening. But you knew it was.

“Yes.. Josuke. I’ll marry you.”

Josuke gleamed as he smothered you with kisses and sweet nothings, giving you gentle touches as his lips grazed over your ears to say the only thing that comes out of his mouth: poison.

“I’ll always find you, baby doll.”

“Like the ocean meets the shore- I will always find you.”

——————————-

I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE IT & KEEP REQUESTING ALL YALL WANT!! TYSM!! 🤍🌿✨🌸👄🍌🌩

[jvnkos]

\— BASICS

Name: Vincent Paul Janko Nicknames: Vince Age / D.O.B.: 52 / April 4th 1967 Gender, Pronouns & Sexuality: Cis Man, He/Him & Heterosexual (?) Hometown: Brooklyn, New York Affiliation: Civilian Job position: Fixer Education: High school diploma Relationship status: Single, widower Children: Lily Janko (dead) Positive traits: Calm, Observant, Intelligent, Resourceful, Determined Negative traits: Ruthless, Reticent, Bitter, Detached, Unforgiving Character parallels: Tommy Shelby, Ray Donovon, (more to be added)

— BIOGRAPHY

tw: abuse, alcoholism, death, assault, violence,

His first run in with the gangs was at the age of nine. His father persuaded him to drop his homework because there was something fun he wanted to show him. At the time, Vince didn’t understand what he was getting himself into. All he wanted was to spend some time with his father when he wasn’t in a drunken stupor. 

His father was a drunk. Sometimes he was an angry man and sometimes he was a loving man. However, he was never a smart man. He got his wife killed and he owed a lot of money. To banks, loan sharks, gangs. His debt piled up faster than he could pay it back and to assuage the people who were after his organs, he offered his muscle. Along with his son’s.

As he entered his late teens, Vince was still paying off his father’s debts. He was willing to do anything. By now, he’d given up his dreams of going to college, though it didn’t stop him picking up a book in his spare time. Soon enough, he’d become trustworthy enough to earn more responsibility, like becoming the gang’s cleaner.

It wasn’t obvious but Vince never wanted to settle with what he had. He was dealt a bad hand and he was going to play his card when the time was right. Until then, he simply paid attention. He also kept reading.

Street smarts are important, but for a guy like Vince it can only get you so far. He understood the importance of school, to learn and not necessarily to receive an education, and he also understood it wasn’t the only place where one could do that.

It’s what got him his independence from the gang once he’d paid off his father’s debt whilst maintaining good relations. It’s what got him in a position where he could learn the law without being in the law, not to abide by it but to learn how to navigate around it. It’s what lead him to the bridge connecting the criminal underworld to the white collar high society. It’s what gave him the skills to get rid of a body as well as explaining to a judge to rule in the favourite of his client without damaging their reputation. He never had to think about money again, and he only had a high school diploma.

By the time he reached his forties, he’d built himself a reputation as an influential and trustworthy fixer where people came to him with their problems. Everyone knew that if Vince shows up at your door, you either fucked up or you’re going to get fucked up. There were no hard feelings involved. A job was a job.

He had his own vetting process, working with a specific but narrow set of principles, and most importantly, he stuck by a very serious rule of absolutely no bullshit. His clientele ranged from celebrities, politicians, lawyers, businessmen, organised crime members -- anyone who didn’t want to get their hands bloody or couldn’t risk having their name connected to the dirty work or couldn’t to taint the name of the organisation they represented.

He does this by working in the shadows, never growing hungry for money or power. He values favours as much as he does a cheque. He keeps his secrets locked away where no one, not even himself, has access to. 

All this work of intimidation, coercion, arm-twisting, finding skeleton’s in people’s closest and putting them there lead to making as many contacts as it did enemies. As much as Vince benefited off helping people in the upper echelons of society, he equally despised them for everything they were. 

After a long and strenuous journey of overcoming his fears that his job will result in the death of a loved one, as he so witnessed with his parents, he ended up marrying Parisa, someone who reminded him of who he was outside of his job and kept him grounded. They had a daughter together, who was not planned but she changed his life for the better. But after a little under ten years of what were some of the hardest and greatest years of his life, he lost them both to an accident. That’s how it was reported and that’s how the case closed. He doesn’t believe it, and he’s still looking for answers.

— PERSONALITY

Vince is a man of few words. He only says what’s necessary and appreciates it when people don’t speak arbitrarily. From a young age, he’d realised the system was working against him so he grew up to make it work for him. He has no qualms about that. He lives in a big house which is filled with expensive things but none of it means anything to him. He knows all the money in the world can’t bring back what he really wants. It’s a fact he tries to drown out with whiskey. He likes his routine and likes to keep fit because it helps with the stress. In his down time, he liked to read and water his plants. He likes to knit, cook his own food and do crosswords. He doesn’t have many friends but the ones he does he’s known for a long time. He’s less of a cynic than he used to be, but it’s still very rare that he sees the light in people. He hates suits but wears them often. He also hates coffee.

— WANTED CONNECTIONS / PLOTS

THE EXCEPTION - a scenario where he didn’t follow through on his job for whatever reason. maybe his client lied to him about who the target was, or he was reminded of when he saw his mother get killed in front of him, or anything else. happy to brain storm what the cause was and where this leaves the characters.

BEST FRIEND - someone he grew up with that was also affiliated with the gang (can be from any gang as tbd). the only person he trusts with his life. they’ve been friends for decades and have stuck by each other through thick and thin.

CLIENTS - people who have hired him in the past, are hiring him currently, or plan on hiring him in the future. can be literally anyone that might’ve wanted anything to go away.

MARKS - people who have him the victim of his job in the past, present or future. can be literally anyone that might’ve wanted anything to go away.

ENEMIES - someone who suffered the consequences because he managed to get the job done and they know it was because of his immoral ways. for example: a lawyer who lost the case because a judge ruled against them, a politician/lobbyist who lost the vote, a divorcee who lost out on a shit load of money, someone who knew a person he’d killed etc. etc.

CONNECTIONS - people he goes to when he can’t get the job done alone. either they’ve cashed in a favour or the other way around. they’re not friends but there’s a level of respect on a professional level. 

NEIGHBOUR - he lives in a relatively nice area of new york (tbd, depends on connection) and they live in the same buildling. maybe they have a good relationship or maybe vince is literally knocking on your character’s door telling them to shut the fuck up. or maybe your character witnessed something pretty morbid.

SUNSHINE x GRUMPY - we all know the one. it’s my weakness.

FRIENDS - he doesn’t have many because he doesn’t really like people. the few he does have i imagine aren’t upper class, which is hypocritical, and they’ve probably known each other for a while. there may be one or two friendships where he’s in denial about enjoying their company since everything about them should be a turn off for him (enemies to friends type plot). or maybe they knew his wife and we can plot out out where that leaves them.

REBOUND - someone he used to try and get over his wife. he’s particular about who he gets involved with romantically / sexually but we can brain storm and see where that takes us!

FLIRTATIONSHIP - vince isn’t really the type to flirt easily, but again we can plot things out. maybe your character is frustrated at how their wiles don’t seem to work on him, or maybe vince has made a habit out of inviting them over for a drink late at night, or maybe they don’t outright flirt but there’s tension whenever they meet at events but it’s never gotten further than that.

INTERN-TO-BE? - someone who really wants to work with/for vince but he’s a lone ranger and doesn’t trust anyone else. that doesn’t stop your character from trying to impress him or pop up every now and again to convince him they’re capable. 

more specific plot to be added ! 

[gaymaleficent]

Remembering

“We have to go to war, Conall! We can’t allow this anymore! Our kind needs to be protected!” 

Maleficent stays silent as she listens to the discussion going on between the magical creatures. Unable to move, she tries to grasp what she is seeing in the huge cave that is spread out right in front of her. Horns. Wings. Majestic appearances. Are those other feas? Is she indeed seeing what she thinks she is? Maleficent starts to believe she actually hit her head pretty hard and blames the view on a dream she was having many many times since she was a child when she suddenly overhears her name. One of the creatures turns around and refers to her with a big gesture, presenting her to the others.

All eyes are on Maleficent now, as she stands there confused and scared, like prey in the wilderness.

“ Isn’t that right, Maleficent?”, says a tall blonde man with black horns.

His eyes glisten as he waits for Maleficent to say something back. When she doesn’t, he straightens up and his muscles move frighteningly as he stiffens.

“You will lead us to war and save us with your powers! You are the chosen one! Aren’t you? SHOW THE OTHERS WHAT YOU CAN DO!”

Maleficent takes a slow breath, trying to contain her fear as she nervously looks around the room and locks eyes with an older looking guy next to the one that talked to her. She loses some tension as she sees the warm smile on his face.

Meanwhile, the blonde guy starts moving towards her. “Come on, Maleficent, show them.”

He comes closer as the taller guy shifts from one leg to the other “Borra, leave her alone!” 

The guy, whos apparent name is Borra, moves a little faster, coming really close to Maleficent. 

“Did you lose your powers, little lady? Or are you embarrassed because of your outfit? What is it?”, he moves even closer to her face. “You should really show them before I make you...”, he whispers into her ear. Maleficent tries to stay calm, but as she still doesn’t respond, she feels his arms rise, as he tries to touch her. Before he can, she finally explodes and her powers radiate in the brightest green she has ever seen, throwing him through the cave.

The other Faes follow him with their eyes, as the older man mutters “Told you so...” under a grin, that is forming on his face.

As all eyes are on Maleficent again, she finally decides that it’s the time to say something. “WHO are you? And where am I?”, looking down at her clothes and remembering her open hair, she gets angry “Who TOUCHED me?”.

She takes a step back, as the green flames continue to play around her appearance and looks at Borra who is still lying on the floor. “WAS IT HIM?”.

Before she has time to continue to freak out, the guy she locked eyes with before starts to talk. “Excuse him, Borra is a little indignant sometimes. He doesn’t mean it. He wouldn’t hurt you. But no, it wasn’t him. I found you in the sea. You got hurt pretty bad, so I brought you here. You’re safe now. My name is Conall, it is nice to meet you.”

Conall had walked over to her as he talked which is why he is now able to hold out his hand with another warm smile. “Come into our circle and let’s continue this discussion with your inclusion.” Still uncertain about what to feel, Maleficent follows him slowly as the other Faes nod at her walking by. When she stops to stand next to him, Conall looks at her with a concerned look on his face, “Tell me, what happened to the girl?”

“The girl?”, Maleficent asks confused. “The blonde girl? The child you raised? Where is she?”. Maleficent’s eyes widen, as the confusion on her face grows “I... have a child?”

“Aaaaargh, AURORA! Her name is Aurora, goddamnit.”, Borra, who finally made it back to the circle, huffs before giving her an annoyed look.

And as Conall nods and asks about Aurora’s well-being again, Maleficent’s brain finally catches up to everything that happened and she sees Aurora’s hurt eyes as she loses faith in her right before Maleficent leaves the castle. And before she manages to say anything, the ground gives up underneath her and she feels herself fall, but before she hits the ground, soft black hands reach out to catch her and she gets embraced by a warm Dark Fae. The last thing she sees is bright, blonde hair that surrounds her before the world turns dark again.

[hankypranky]

Word count: 1907

Summary:  A door appears in the bunker leading to a bedroom with Gabriel’s comatose body. Sam crosses the threshold, unaware that he cannot return until Gabriel is conscious and strong enough to bridge the gap back into the bunker.

Characters: Sam Winchester, Castiel, Jack, Gabriel

Warnings: Olfactory sensitivities, Wing Kink?

Part 1

Part 2

Castiel gave a slight knock to the frame of the door, not enough to startle Sam though. He was carrying full of supplies, and Jack was behind him with another box. “How is it going in here?”

“He is alive.” Sam replied.

“Very well.” Castiel looked around the room, “You will have little room to maneuver after you complete the spell. Gabriel’s wings are enormous.”

“Do you think it will work?”

“If you perform the spell properly, yes.” Castiel looked pensive. “To bear witness to an angel’s wings is an incredibly private affair, especially to a human. I must warn you, a connection may form between the two of you.”

Sam’s throat was dry, and he tried to swallow, resulting in a bit of pain. “When I was resting with him, I think he reached out to me… and I- I back to him.”

“That is a good thing. He trusts you. Human souls are a fuel to our grace. You make us stronger. He loves most humans, including you.”

Sam shifted uncomfortably. He had known Gabriel as a Pagan, and an archangel. After everything they had been through. He knew it was true; especially after these recent events. Sam was glad Gabriel stuck to his tricks. If he hadn't sent in another decoy, he would have been murdered by one of his brothers, again. A shiver ran down his spine. As convoluted and dangerous his life was, it was his family that kept him strong, kept him fighting. He would do the same for Gabriel.

He wiped his hands on his pants. “What do I need to do?”

“Within this box, you will find the spell and the ingredients. There is an enchanted wooden box in there as well. Be sure you keep all of Gabriel’s molted feathers, they are precious.” He handed Sam the cardboard box through the doorway. Jack handed the other small box Castiel who then handed it to Sam. “While you will use your bare hands for the majority of the preening, you will need to wipe your hands clean before each interval, and after.”

Sam placed the box on the nightstand. Jack was now standing in the doorway with Sam’s backpack. “Castiel said this will be arduous work, so I packed a bag for you.There is food, clean clothes, and your hairbrush!”

“Thanks Jack.” Sam loved the kid so damn much, he almost wanted to tell him.

Castiel spoke again, “I'm sorry if I was harsh with my tone earlier. It wasn't my intention.”

“I know Cas. We’ll get through this.” He added, “And get Dean back.”

With Sam's words, Castiel’s eyes filled with unshed tears. “Right.” He stood straighter, “Pray to us if you need us. We will leave you alone now.”

Pacing in the room, Sam didn't quite know where to start. His legs wanted to give out, and he just wanted to give in. But that wasn't an option. He sat on the bed next to Gabriel and placed his hand over his smaller one. His palms were sweaty, and a little sticky. A shower would be a good first step.

Feeling more refreshed, he began to unpack the spell contents on the small table against the wall. He carefully read the incantation three times. Sam returned to the bedside and flipped Gabriel onto his stomach, mindful of his neck. Brushing aside his hair, he prayed to him again, ‘Gabriel... I'm nervous. This spell is powerful. It requires a mixture of our blood. I- You aren't awake to give me consent.’ He ran his fingers through Gabriel’s hair. ‘I know this is weird, but I want you back.’ Gabriel didn't stir, but he thought he felt a little nudge of warmth in his heart. He closed his eyes and concentrated, but there was nothing. The connection he had felt earlier was no long there either.

That little nudge settled his nerves. Sam began the spell, speaking the incantation in perfect Latin, along with the Enochian parts he had rehearsed, He took the knife and sliced his finger and dripped the blood into the bowl. He did the same on Gabriel’s finger.

The combination of their blood caused the bowl to produce a shimmery smoke. Sam dipped his hands into the bowl and rubbed his palms together.

He climbed on the bed and straddled Gabriel. He took a deep breath and massaged the medley onto Gabriel’s back, and spoke the final words of the spell, “Praestares mihi gloriam tuam super alas.”

Gabriel's skin warmed under Sam’s touch as he continued to knead into his back, from his trapezium down to the bottom of his ribs and spine.

The concoction was beginning to dry out and flake on his hands. Worry was beginning to form as nothing had happened. He sent out a plea to Gabriel to accept, but was there was only silence.

He prayed to Cas and he appeared in the doorway. Sam didn't move, he spoke softly, “It isn't working.”

Castiel asked, “Did you pray to him?”

“Yes.”

“Song is stronger than prayer. Sing to him Sam.”

“Sing what?”

“Teine O Fea Oe.”

Sam turned so he could look at Cas, 100% bitchface. In which he retorted, “Adoro Te Devote”. He shook his head, he didn't know that one either.

Cas rolled his eyes. Sam was well read, intelligent, he didn't feel bad he didn't know some stodgy old songs. Gabriel probably wouldn't even like them anyway. That's when lyrics popped into his head which caused him to groan out loud.

Curiously Castiel asked, “What is it Sam?”

His shoulders sagging, “I know a song.”

“I will leave you to it then. Put everything you have into it.”

Sam was so embarrassed, he hoped nobody would hear him. He was sure that if someone was listening, Gabriel would take immense pleasure in his humiliation.

Focusing on those feelings and pushing them towards Gabriel, he pressed his hands firmly on his back and began to sing, “My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard, And they're like, It's better than yours, Damn right, it's bigger than yours, I can teach you, But I have to fart”

Sam laughed but kept singing, he didn't really know the song, just the chorus. So he repeated it, “My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard, And they're like, My wings are better than yours, Damn right they’re bigger than yours, I can show you, But they're far to large…”

It was then that Sam felt Gabriel’s muscles twitch, and saw a protrusion forming from within his back. Sam got off the bed quickly and backed himself into the corner unsure of what was going to happen next.

A golden light erupted from Gabriel and his wings unfurled in one swift moment. Sam closed his eyes and dropped to the floor, holding his head between his legs.

He wasn't scared, but Gabriel's wings produced such a great force of wind, he thought he was going to be struck by one.

Before Sam could even open his eyes, he was assaulted by the odor of Gabriel’s wings. It was enough to make him gag, and he had to swallow down the urge to vomit.

That changed immediately when he looked up and saw the wings of the archangel. They encompassed the majority of the room. Gabriel’s feathers were primarily gold, but varied in hue. Some of them shimmered more than others. With each step Sam approached, Sam noticed the differences, until he realized Gabriel had not just one pair, but two. They hung over the bed and angled down to nestle on the floor. He surmised they must be at least 30’ spread.

Sam side stepped around the room until he was at the base of the bed. And he reached down and clasped Gabriel’s calves. Hidden behind his wings, Sam could hardly see Gabriel’s form. The realization that this magnificent being not only was relying on him, but also trusted him was staggering. Given the trauma of what Gabriel had gone through these past 8 years brought tears to Sam’s eyes. Instead of praying, he pushed his resolve towards him. His loyalty to protect him. He stroked the back if his hand over the closest feathers and felt a small tingle. It felt similar to the connection he had earlier in the day. Reluctantly, he left his side and washed the residue off of his hands. Then set the wood box and a few towels on the nightstand.

Sam stood at the head of the bed, Gabriel's face was pointed the opposite direction. Using his palm, Sam stroked over part of his wing and sensed a connection again, this time it was more of a warm pulse. Gabriel’s feathers were the softest thing he had ever touched. The light danced off them, reflecting their color on one another.

He leaned in a little closer, he noticed they were beginning to dry out. A few on the verge of becoming brittle. Gently, he ran his fingers through the area, and held a small cluster of feathers in his palm. He placed all but one in the wood box. Bringing the last one close to his eyes, it was like down. Fluffy all around. This one was more yellow in color, muted by the white undertones. Sam placed it in the box with the others.

He continued to remove any feathers he could from the upper portion of Gabriel’s right wing. Every feather that was pulled helped to coat Gabriel's other wings in the oil. It was a fluid process, each time he reached into his wings, oil was being transferred to he hands. Sam had lost himself in the experience, he was focused, calm. The tenuous connection to Gabriel was strengthening. It was still small, but hummed contentedly with his ministrations.

His hands were beginning to cramp, and he needed to take a break. He wiped his hands using one of the cloths and wished there was somewhere to lay down for a bit, but Gabriel took up the whole bed.

He stretched out his stiff muscles, and scooted to the left side of the bed so he could see Gabriel’s face. He touched the back of his hand to Gabriel's forehead and was pleased he was warmer than he had been, even developing a rosy tint to his cheeks.

Rifling through the bag Jack brought, he opened the front pockets. There was some candy, a bottle of water, an apple. He pulled out a pair of jeans and a black v-neck from the larger compartment. There was also the 3rd Harry Potter book, but his heart stopped when he saw a copy of Busty Asian Beauties.

Not wanting to look at it, he stashed it in the drawer of the nightstand. He didn't want to think about Dean right now. Didn't want to think about where they would be if Dean didn't say yes to Michael. Because he had done it, he did kill Lucifer. He left him alone, again. His leg brushed against Gabriel’s wing, and he was immediately calmed. He thought to himself, ‘We will get you back Dean.’

Sam found his second wind. As he made headway with Gabe’s wings, stroking and coating his feathers, the pungent smell was being replaced with an almost unworldly fragrance. It was like a spring rainstorm rain, freshly tilled baseball field, combined with a hint of vanilla. It soaked into his core.

[illusionsofdreaming]

Hi! Could you do a fire emblem awakening fanfic where female robin is kidnapped and gaius has to come save her?

Notes: Gaius is one of my favorite characters in FEA so this was definitely a fun prompt to write! 

Ft: Gaius

Elrik believed mercenaries were wholly under appreciated for all the indignities they have to suffer unnoticed. It was just his luck that his current job landed him with a bunch of snooty dark magicians with a superiority complex. So reliant and adamant that magic was in every way superior, after setting down a few scouting barriers they had all returned to an early bed, leaving all the nasty duties to the hired swords.

Elrik wasn’t complaining really. Disregard for their health and safety came with their jobs. Lots of clients tend to underestimate them, preferring to view them as convenient bodyguards if not the occasional meat shield from time to time. It had always been an unspoken rule that mercenaries should avoid prying into the motives of their customers, no matter how shady and unruly said job was turning out to be.

He felt sorry for the tactician they kidnapped earlier this morning, sympathetic even when he caught your eye roll at their crude taunts and jokes. Yeah, Elrik winced, he understood. Although he wasn’t exactly tied down like you were, he didn’t like the feel these Grimleals gave off either. At least you seemed nice, it’s too bad he was hired to be your enemy this time round.

Sometimes a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do to keep his large family fed. Taking on unpleasant jobs was only the tip of the iceberg. At least he could make sure they weren’t treating you wrong while they held you captive, sneaking in larger meal portions whenever he can and a blanket - because the nights were getting cold lately and although prisoners weren’t exactly important guests, where would it leave them if their prisoner froze to death because these numbskulls forgot to tend to basic human needs?

Although, his sneakiness might not have been so sneaky after all, since he was shucked to this far corner of the camp with nothing more than a flickering lamp and the command to keep watch this cold night. Elrik sighed. A few more days and he’ll be done with this band of magic wielding, tactician kidnapping bunch.

He stifled a yawned and held back another cold shiver. That’s when he smelt it. A gentle waft of sweetness in the air. His nose scrunched, his back stiffened as he lifted his lamp higher. It could’ve been his imagination but why would his mind try to fool him now? He took a wary step forward, the light from his lamp swinging but revealing nothing. Maybe it was nothing after all. His tired mind probably conjured up phantoms to stave off his boredom.

He lowered the lamp. From behind a pressure locked around his neck and pulled him backwards, choking his cry of surprise. The tip of something cold was pressed against his neck as the lantern was gently taken out of his other hand.

A soft whisper tickled his ear froze the blood running in his veins. The sweet, sweet scent of nectar filled in the air. “You’re going to tell me where you kept her.”

Elrik’s muscles went rigid.

The light went out.

“Hey,”

There was a gentle pressure against your shoulder, shaking you, trying to rouse you from the restless sleep you’d fallen into. Immediately, your eyes flashed open as you jerked upwards, aiming to give your enemy the worst black eye ever with a headbutt for daring to touch you while you were unconscious. You grinned triumphantly as the other reeled back with a sharp yelp of pain. Quickly you got up on your feet, ready to lunge forward and body slam your opponent and hopefully secure your exit when something cracked beneath your shoe. You looked down to find a bear shaped candy.

“Naga! You’ve got a hard head!”

“G-Gaius?”

“Babe, if you didn’t like my nose you could’ve just told me.. aw man the blood’s gotten all over my shirt- eck! Peter Bear!”

The relief of seeing a familiar face took the energy from your legs and you fell to your knees, the sound drawing the thief’s attention from his mourning and instantly he was by your side, supporting your shoulders, candy all but forgotten.

“Hey, it’s alright, I got you now.” His voice was gentle as he pulled you close and you didn’t realise you had been crying until you’ve soaked his shoulder wet. There was a light pressure on your raw wrists and the next moment you found yourself free of bonds. Instantly your fingers reached to grab onto the fabric of the thief’s clothing as you pulled the man close for reassurance that yes, he’s actually here.

“It’s okay. You’re fine now.” His arms wrapped around your shoulders, holding you, protecting you. “I found you. It’s okay. I found you.” he kept repeating softly, fingers running through your hair.

“How?”

You felt the rumble of his laughter as he pulled back slightly and wiped away your tears. “You sure you didn’t knock your head too hard? Married a master thief? Ring any bells?”

“You’re alone?” You asked warily, praying to the Gods that your husband at least had some mind to inform Chrom and the others.

“Hey, give some credit to your husband.” Gauis snorted, accurately reading your thoughts as he crossed his arms. “If I can sneak into the Ylissean vaults I can very well infiltrate some amateur Grimleal camp.” He rolled his eyes at your expression. “Chrom and the others have the perimeter surrounded, I was the best candidate who can sneak in and out quietly though, happy? Although s’not like I’d let anyone else go.” He muttered darkly under his breath as an afterthought.

“You alright though? They didn’t do anything to you?” he asked as he helped you up, expression darkening when he saw your wince of pain.

“No, nothing. I just… want to go back.” You sighed, thinking about your aches and filth only made you crave the security and warmth of your own camp even more. You looked up when you felt something heavy drape over you. It was your coat.

“Gotcha Bubbles. I’ll get us outta this hellhole real quick. Just.. stay by my side alright?” His smile was charming but there was a flicker of vulnerability in his gaze as he held his hand out and when you held it, his grip was tight.

“When we get back we’re going to steal the bathing tent and have a good long soak- you look like you need one, actually you smell like you need one-ouch!” he grimaced when you punched his shoulder.

“You didn’t let me finish,” He muttered in protest, “I was gonna offer a massage and all.” He lifted the flap slightly to peer outside.

“Alright, cuddles and a good ol’ cup of my special hot chocolate? How does that sound?”

“Hot chocolate…” you felt yourself lean closer to his warmth, his hold on you lending you strength. “..sounds really nice.” you mumbled softly.

Gaius’ smile was warm as he looked back to meet your gaze, the moonlight from outside casted his features with a beautiful glow and your heart skipped a beat.

“Then let’s go.”

And together you ran.

[happyhollow-mellowmarsh]

I'm Enough for Me | Fran | Epilogue

Well Celine could be a headache, she did what she said she would and that itself was important. The dead were going to be revived, and that lifted a weight that had settled in Fran’s chest. Some damage couldn’t be repaired as easily, but plenty wasn’t lost.

There was never any question about whether or not François wanted to stay at the swamp to study magic. 

At the first chance he had, Fran left to visit home again. He had never much enjoyed his birthday, a depressing affair, but this was the second best birthday he got to experience that year. He might not have been able to remember the other months, but it still Felt as though he could feel the time. Far too long to be away, leaving his dear Maxim in worry. 

Though he wouldn’t stay for long, he’d at least make full use of the day. Comfortable in arms he missed, the broken glass in his heart could be dealt with later. There was far too much to talk about, and he was far too tired to consider what he was Ready to talk about in the first place.

There was so much to be done during his year of study. Friends to spend time with, magic to master, combos to test, people to try and repair relationships with, guitar to learn, a boyfriend to spend weekends with, dance to practice and teach, therapy to attend, the list was unending. Time had always been the enemy, even before the kaleidoscope of murder games. Still, time would always move forwards with or without you. It was best to simply Make the best of the time you had.

Not that such a thing ever stopped François from trying to make a little more for himself.

After the year’s apprenticeship is over, it’s not another great witch that offers Fran further learning. A part time apprenticeship with Hex suited him better. More time to continue his career in dance, and more time to live his life. Besides, when all was said and done, he Liked Hex and Mallory. Wasn’t that enough?

There is a certain joy in taking Animation up as his third element. Unlike some of his former classmates Fran isn’t much one for making magictech. He prefers the more traditional approach, something he’s a little more in touch with. Puppets didn’t always need strings to guide them, but for some it was helpful to have the structure. He’s plenty good at making sturdy ones all by himself too. A skeleton frame, woven muscles, stitched skin, and yarn hair is all it takes to form the first few. Though Bell and Omen his Skeletal cats are always favourites, each new puppet made and each new use of magic is a joy itself.

Bébé helps too of course, although they are a little rougher on Fran’s many creations. Perhaps it was what he got for teaching them to chase yarn though, his little hunter.

A little time is even made to start learning from Shaela of all people. It’s easier to learn about his fea heritage from her over Ennui. Far less painful memories attached, even if he is always wary.

Well it’s hard to make time between studying magic, returning to his dance company, and making time for friends and family, François doesn’t mind. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

It takes him a long time to figure out how he wants to help the world. Fran was never someone that could really consider himself Actually being much help. It was something he was trying to work on, something still foreign to him. So many of his peers were working hard with or without him though towards their own goals for the future and the betterment of the world. Could he really just sit back and leave all the work to everyone else? 

Before he picks up his next element for his second year of part time apprenticing under Hex, he has a thought. Something beneficial, and something close enough to home, his new home. His sanctuary in Russia. That would be where he tackled first, he was after all a Selfish man. It’s not a quick plan, nor a simple one, but it is His. That’s also enough for him.

It starts with mastering the element of Salt. There was no point in doing something half baked when it was risky. Radiation was no joke. Practice, dedication, and experimentation was the key. During the first month of his third year under Hex he begins to practice in the field.

At first the scale is miniscule. He isolates an object, secured in a salt fortified container and brought to him by Warded Puppet Assistants. Fakir and Dean are always trying to outdo one another, but they’re sweet boys. The first few items are small, toys, knick knacks, small metal bits. Anything easy to carry. It takes practice, and the process is extremely slow to start. Both from the fact he can’t afford to wear himself out, and because he still needs to put as much of himself into his dancing career as he can. It becomes routine to him, when he is free from career and social obligations he works on his project.

Locate suitable object, retrieve object, purify object, show findings, and begin the process again.

It’s oddly scientific work for someone like him, who’s love was in art and expression. Out of place, like a child wearing their father’s suit. It takes a lot of studying and consideration, but by his fourth year part timing under Hex he’s got a much clearer picture of what he needs to do.

By his fifth and final year the system moves much smoother. Fakir and Dean’s help make the task so much easier, and as do their many siblings. Between his space magic and Wolfgang’s metal manipulation, retrieving bigger objects is much less of a hassle. Collaboration begins with Aisling and himself, working to create a plant that can purify the land itself. Everyday he feels less like he’s only being stupidly optimistic. 

They inch closer and closer to the goal. Salt lines the ground and a barrier the air to keep their hard work protected.

His work would take a long time, maybe the rest of his life. He’d probably never fully know peace. He found he didn’t mind so much. Like much of his family before him, he became far too restless when he didn’t have Some project to work on. He’d always be reducing fabric waste anyway. Renewing and restoring clothes, unraveling what was too far gone to save, creating new from those. 

Sure, he could have had a quiet life, settled down once he was done dancing, maybe become a dance instructor. Maybe just be a trophy husband to a brilliant roboticist. Both viable options he could have taken. He found that he didn’t mind so much though. When he really needed a break, there could always be a pause on time, or an acceleration to his efforts. He could make himself more time in his day.

He was healing though, why should their world not to?

[crazy4tank]

The Best Muscle Cars to Invest In

New Post has been published on https://coolcarsnews.com/2020/12/21/the-best-muscle-cars-to-invest-in/

The Best Muscle Cars to Invest In

Do you want to make an investment in a classic vehicle? If so, learn about the best muscle vehicles to invest in here.

What’ s more American than apple company pie? If you’ re a good automotive guru, your answer might be American muscle cars.

If you’ re revving as much as make your own investment in a traditional muscle class vehicle, we’ lso are here to help. Here’ s the roundup of some of the best muscle vehicles to consider.

A Brief History associated with Muscle Cars

Muscles cars have a special place in United states automotive history.

A lot of point to the 1949 Oldsmobile Rocket 88 because the very first muscle car on the market. This features many of the hallmarks of the muscles car class:

Sport coupe body

Midsize

Lightweight structure

Robust V8 motor

Rear-wheel drivetrain

Fast and powerful

While the Oldsmobile Skyrocket is given props as the automobile that started it all, the true heyday of muscle cars was in between 1950-1970. During this era, drivers plus automakers alike jumped on the bandwagon for speedier, sportier vehicles.

This led to the bulk production of an array of muscle vehicles and a culture of muscle-car gratitude. Older shoppers loved them regarding daily cruises and younger purchasers raced them. They were a fitting of everyday life and driving.

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[voronyaro]

Upon a trip through Dunland, three days after her companion Coruhuron and Sarte part, he to return to their charges, she to lead the Warg Riders away from the group.

Close to midnight, deep within Dunland, the Gravenwood.

Orcish screaming was aggravating. The creature lurched toward her, flailing it's butcher knife of a sword in nothing less than madness and yelling it's empty curses. Sarte was annoyed. She was too bored to speed her walk and too disinterested to even brace for a fight. She couldn’t even bring herself to fake effort. She hated their voices and their smell and this was the third day of her pursuit. And hunting had never been her favourite pastime but now it might as well be the sound of metal against metal for how tedious she found it.

The orc ran face first into her grip, her powerful fingers gouging into it's blackened cheeks as she finally gagged it's hollering with her palm. It didn't matter that it's flailing cut a line of blood down her thigh and she couldn't even find the inspiration to look into it's gaze and take pleasure from it's abject fear. With a careless lash of her arm and flick of her wrist she simply crushed it's skull against the tree beside her, feeling rather than seeing how the bones shattered against her grip, like glass. Dull.

And the reason for her spiritlessness was so mundane it annoyed her even more. She was just tired. The young were draining. Coruhuron's recklessness and badgering was wearying. Aecthel's sharp questions were tiresome. New acquaintances required so much energy. And now she was alone, wounded, and struggling to find the effort required to give a damn about any of it. It was an expected consequence, a familiar malaise, but one that still put her in a foul mood.

As she shook the ichor from her hand and glanced about the carnage of her own little ambush, she had reason to be grateful that her irritation had a healthy direction. Dead Uruks, dead wargs, dead orcs. No matter how frustratingly simple the task was it was good to see it done, alike to the satisfaction of an organised armoury or clean dishes. At least her anhedonia had not spread so far just yet.

She tossed her head and was halfway through a weary sigh before a sudden sharp bark echoed through the canopy and she snapped her gaze to an orc who, apparently, had been a little late to the event. It was different to the rest, standing at the edge of her massacre, snarling and spitting through it's teeth as it's eyes spun in fear, struck petrified to it's place.

It was a reedy creature, all repulsively lean muscle. Bands of metal and iron-wire stitching seemed all that was holding it together and it's skin was a blotchy grey and polluted brown.

"D-d-d-d-drok-Bujar, Dru-Matum! Dru-Gorgol!" It shrieked, breaking whatever spell held it to turn and flee. Or try too. It took no time or effort for Sarte to bend to the ground and find a weapon. The stone that struck the back of it’s head sent it crashing soundly to the forest floor, doomed to hopelessly try and crawl away before Sarte was upon it, dragging it to it’s back and dropping a heavy knee onto it’s chest. There was little sense to be made of it’s black speech babbling until she had a warning hand around it’s eerily thin neck.

“Gorgol is an old name of mine.” She speaks low, more as a statement than for the sake of curiosity. Still, it draws something from her captive, hissed through frothing teeth. “Raabt survives. Survived it all! Survived Gorgol! Can again, will again!” And it surged to thrash and struggle under her grip, to claw uselessly at her leg and torso before a well controlled squeeze of it’s throat stilled it once more.

“Was this the last of this pack?” She asked, her tone monotonous, her gaze utterly implacable. She had a duty and she would fulfil it no matter how tedious she found it. Raabt’s jaw trembled, its momentary confidence dying by the second though it still held strong for now. And Sarte had no patience, her temper worn to a single thread, begging to snap and toss away this chance in favour of more bloodshed.

She surged in close, her own teeth bared, the light in her eyes a harsh and dreadful glow as her throat grated in a guttural growl.

“Gashn! izg zuub olkurz ob dug grish drûsh jut,” the threat already turned Raabt a vile shade of green but Sarte’ strangle hold tightened and she spat on, “Izg shaplag kraat Raabt agh runk-ul ishi prrall, tram-ub tarthur maath fraut ob koh.”

It’s trembling was pitiful. Reduced to a whimpering mess with but a few words, a disgusting and cowardly thing, as they all were. And she could take no pleasure in it’s terror today, not even sadism could grasp her attention and she couldn’t be bothered to try.

At the very least the orc did not hold it’s silence any longer.

“Raabt is last! Raabt the survivor, always last! Gorgol caught him but Gorgol is too late! Raabt already told the bird, yes! Told that the Gorgol is all alone! No friends to help! Saruman-fool will be the end for Gorgol, burn bite gnash chew, bones into the pits to feast, revenge, reven-!”

She ripped it’s jaw from it’s skull in her haste to silence the babbling, letting it gurgle and bleed out into the forest floor. At the very least, her job was done.

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

Nearer to Morning, now closer towards the Gap of Rohan.

A little time later and Sarte found herself leaning her back against a rock in the middle of a softly flowing river. The icy cold water slowly soaked away the ichor staining her skin and clothes, but that was the most effort she could put towards her own wellbeing. Her Hroa was strong but her Fea was weary.

She, again, had cause to be grateful for her solitude. She absolutely refused to allow anyone to see her this way, to even for a moment consider this her natural state. She had no time for those Eldar who drowned themselves in the apathy of Age. As if care and passion had ever been anything but a choice, as if they could have seen all the things there were to see, felt everything there was to feel. Sluggards, cowards. So what if it got harder? It was still their responsibility to try, not flee west at every discomfort.

Even animals did not abandon their homes so recklessly.

But that made these moments even more unbearable. To have to look into the sky and tell herself it was beautiful, that she still enjoyed the sound of running water, that the slowly oozing bite to her shoulder hurt, that these things mattered at all. She knew she had move again before she was discovered, but the lack of a clear objective in her mind meant she had nothing to heave her from this paralysis. Stars… what had triggered it? She had been wearied by elven society before, dealt with more than her fair share of reckless soldiers and curious children before. What was it about these ones?

Perhaps… they were too familiar.

Coruhuron hounded after battle like a being possessed, as though he had no mind for anything but vengeance, a fury so potent he had no care for himself and little to spare for others. Just ancient enough for the flames of the fight to be all that can grasp him, not yet wise enough to know how to change. Dark, terrible, burning, sadistic, his loyalty all that binds him… yes, she recognised that all too well. He seemed like both the embodiment of her younger years, and a consequence of them.

She had been him, once. And it was a tiring to remember it.

And Aecthel, eyes so bright and curious, a heart full of valour and with such a vast capacity for compassion. Young enough to rightfully demand the world be better, to still believe that her efforts and the efforts of others could do just that despite all the hardship and ugliness she had already endured. Aecthel was alike to… a silhouette, as though Sarte was seeing the ghost of someone long dead. Recognised, but not remembered. A child she had lost so long ago but whom now looked upon her with betrayal and empathy both and asked ‘How could you do this to us?’

She had been her once. And it was painful to not remember it.

The forest about her creaked through her introspection, the mist of the morning gathering in the base of her little valley as birds chirruped their dramatics. Cold water stung at her slowly numbing skin and she sat so still that a shoal of minnows peaked from their hideaways to come and encircle her fingers and pick at the gash down her thigh.

“Shall we mourn here deedless forever,” She murmured to herself, Quenya slipping from her tongue as easily as the water passed its stones, “a shadow-folk, mist-haunting, dropping vain tears in the thankless…” a small and sudden smirk, her fingers playing a moment in the rushing water, “river?”

She gave a small sigh. The revelation of what she had perhaps already known, but never spoken into reality, seemed to have lifted a little weight from her chest. Knowing the ‘why’ always made the ‘what’ a far more manageable burden to bear. She glanced down to her new finned friends, their manner seeming slower suddenly, more focused upon her than a moment before. A dozen silver eyes stared up at her unblinkingly, flitting here and there, but staying in the circle of her palm.

Her mother tongue ever had such an effect upon the good creatures of the world, a small tether that still held the Noldor to this Middle Earth. Small, but important, and enough for her.

“Though the road be long and hard, the end shall be fair, after all.” She hummed, watching the fish dance at the cadence of her speech even as she wondered how they could hear it beneath the water.

And so Sarte took a deep and bolstering breath and set to work. She resolved not to leave her seat until she loved the sound of water, was curious of minnows and yet disliked the pain of biting teeth enough to flee from both.

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

Translations:

Drok-Bujar, Dru-Matum! Dru-Gorgol! Bastardized black speech meaning: The demon-knight, dreaded-death, dreaded-butcher!

Gashn! izg zuub olkurz ob dug grish drûsh jut Bastardized black speech meaning: Speak, or I will drain your body of it’s filth blood and fill it with water.

Izg shaplag kraat Raabt agh runk-ul ishi prrall, tram-ub tarthur maath fraut ob koh. Bastardized black speech meaning: I will rinse away Raabt and hang it low in a Holly Tree, it will be defiled/ravaged by sweet roots for the rest of time.

Translations are extended since black speech has no extensions, 'I will rinse away Raabt' would be 'Raabt rinse away' but with a not-english-compatible future tense suffix. Also 'you' has been changed to 'it' here, Hravanis is not verbally acknowledging the Orc as an individual.

[punk-rock-pixie]

ALL THE WITCH ASKS (careful what you ask for) 😋

Fuck me gently with a chainsaw. I feel like i didnt totally answer these as best I could but yknow

1. Are you solitary or in a coven?Solitary- used to be in a coven but they moved

2. Do you consider yourself Wiccan, Pagan, witch, or other?Witch

3. What is your zodiac sign?Scorpio

4. Do you have a Patron God/dess?Moon goddess

5. Do you work with a Pantheon?Nope

6. Do you use tarot, palmistry, or any other kind of divination?Tarot a little

7. What are some of your favorite herbs to use in your practice? (if any)Sage and rosemary

8. How would you define your craft?Screaming literal and verbal salt

9. Do you curse? If not, do you accept others who do?Sometimes I do but only in certain points

10. How long have you been practicing?About 1-2 years???

11. Do you currently or have you ever had any familiars? Yeah!

12. Do you believe in Karma or Reincarnation?Both a little yeh!

13. Do you have a magical name?Nope

14. Are you “out of the broom closet”?To a few people yes

15. What was the last spell you performed?It was to purify my workspace so I could work on an art project in peace

16. Would you consider yourself knowledgeable?Somewhat

17. Do you write your own spells?Yeah

18. Do you have a book of shadows? If so, how is it written and/or set up?I don’t

19. Do you worship nature? Yes!

20. What is your favorite gemstone?Snowflake obsidian and black tourmaline

21. Do you use feathers, claws, fur, pelt, skeletons/bones, or any other animal body part for magical work?I do not. I do most of my work using crystals, candles, and intention

22. Do you have an altar?I do!

23. What is your preferred element?Fire

24. Do you consider yourself an Alchemist?Not really

25. Are you any other type of magical practitioner besides a witch?Nope

26. What got you interested in witchcraft?I first got interested way back in sixth grade but people bullied me about it. Then a few years ago I found a coven in my neighborhood practicing in a secluded area during Halloween. They welcomed me with open arms

27. Have you ever performed a spell or ritual with the company of anyone who was not a witch?Nope

28. Have you ever used ouija?Yeah. But I try to stay away now

29. Do you consider yourself a psychic?Not exactly

30. Do you have a spirit guide? If so, what is it?I do not

31. What is something you wish someone had told you when you first started?It’s ok to not have all the materials- especially if you’re on a budget. Just feel the energy of nature or whatever element(s) you use.

32. Do you celebrate the Sabbats? If so which one is your favorite?I don’t celebrate too many no

33. Would you ever teach witchcraft to your children?Would I ever have children?

34. Do you meditate?A lot yes.

35. What is your favorite season?Fall/winter

36. What is your favorite type of magick to preform?Cleansing and empowering meditation

37. How do you incorporate your spirituality into your daily life? Yeah.

38. What is your favorite witchy movie?Hocus Pocus is an all-time fave

39. What is your favorite witchy book, both fiction and non-fiction. Why?Fiction- I have non. Non-fiction I love Wiccapedia since it serves as a good beginners guide for witches.

40. What is the first spell you ever preformed? Successful or not. No success. I tried to charm my looks, but I was really low on spoons

41. What’s the craziest witchcraft-related thing that’s happened to you?Using ouija I found out a spirit had been following me since I visited Europe- a young, quite tortured man from 1805. He saw I was “ tortured “ too I guess??? At any rate, he was causing a bunch of problems but I was able to banish him at some point last summer after seeking guidance from a shop owner in downtown Sedona.

42. What is your favourite type of candle to use?Scented and also white or black

43. What is your favorite witchy tool?Healing crystals

44. Do you or have you ever made your own witchy tools?I made moon water at some point but other than that, no

45. Have you ever worked with any magical creatures such as the fea or spirits?Spirits yes

46. Do you practice color magic?Not regularly

47. Do you or have you ever had a witchy teacher or mentor of any kind?Not currently.

48. What is your preferred way of shopping for witchcraft supplies?Etsy from other witches or going to the shop by my school

49. Do you believe in predestination or fate?Yes, but I feel fate can be changed

50. What do you do to reconnect when you are feeling out of touch with your practice?Meditate with candles and crystals and do several mindfulness exercises

51. Have you ever had any supernatural experiences?The crazy thing that happened with witchcraft

52. What is your biggest witchy pet peeve?People that don’t respect the practice and use things from closed cultures

53. Do you like incense? If so what’s your favorite scent?I don’t but I want more

54. Do you keep a dream journal of any kind?I do keep a dream journal, yes

55. What has been your biggest witchcraft disaster?Almost releasing a demon in my house

56. What has been your biggest witchcraft success?Getting in touch with crystals and tuning them into what I do

57. What in your practice do you do that you may feel silly or embarrassed about?Talking to my tools

58. Do you believe that you can be an atheist, Christian, Muslim or some other faith and still be a witch too?Absolutely! I’m a Jewish witch actually!

59. Do you ever feel insecure, unsure or even scared of spell work?Sometimes I’m a little fearful when I try something new but that’s about it

60. Do you ever hold yourself to a standard in your witchcraft that you feel you may never obtain?I’m not OVERLY devoted like some people, but I think we all have a happy level we can reach.

61. What is something witch related that you want right now?More materials

62. What is your rune of choice?I dont have one

63. What is your tarot card of choice?It’s a death card, but I love it cuz death can just mean the end of something and the beginning of something new.

64. Do you use essential oils? If so what is your favorite?I don’t usually.

65. Have you ever taken any kind of witchcraft or pagan courses?I have not, but I want too!

66. Do you wear pagan jewelry in public?So many crystals….

67. Have you ever been discriminated against because of your faith or being a witch?Not really. Most people are just kinda intrigued and weirded out

68. Do you read or subscribe to any pagan magazines?I should

69. Do you think it’s important to know the history of paganism and witchcraft?It’s good to know definitely.

70. What are your favorite things about being a witch?Feeling a place of belonging with my work, it helps me get in tune with myself and I met some good friends because of the practice

71. What are your least favorite things about being a witch?Discourse of also being Jewish

72. Do you listen to any pagan music? If so who is your favorite singer/band?I do not actually

73. Do you celebrate the Esbbats? If so, how?I don’t

74. Do you ever work skyclad?Not usually

75. Do you think witchcraft has improved your life? If so, how?Yeah, it helps with my dissociating and mindfulness.

76. Where do you draw inspiration from for your practice?Just energies and sometimes I’ll do little fandom things like Harry Potter-inspired spells

77. Do you believe in ‘fantasy’ creatures? (Unicorns, fairies, elves, gnomes, ghosts, etc)I believe in demons, ghosts, faeries and hobgoblins

78. What’s your favorite sigil/symbol?I can’t explain but I have this sigil to aid with my anxiety and the intention I use is “I am fearless and can do anything I set my mind to”79. Do you use blood magick in your practice? Why or why not?I don’t. Mostly cuz I have a low pain tolerance and do everything out of intention

80. Could you ever be in a relationship with someone who doesn’t support your practice?I was in a relationship with a harcore catholic before if that answers your quesrion

81. In what area or subject would you most like your craft to grow?Getting more involved in the craft. I’m generally running on low spoons and can’t do much.

82. What’s your favorite candle scent? Do you use it in your practice?Peppercorn. I use it a lot yeah.

83. Do you have a pre-ritual ritual? (I.e. Something you do before rituals to prepare yourself for them). If so what is it? Yeah. I do a lot of meditation before working

84. What real life witch most inspires your practice?@thatsprettyedgybruv and also my friends from the coven I was in

85. What is your favorite method of communicating with deity?Dreams

86. How do you like to organize all your witchy items and ingredients?I have a keepsake box for crystals, candles are just together generally

87. Do you have any witches in your family that you know of?No, but my mom used to be very into tarot and crystals

88. How have you created your path? What is unique about it?Intention and trial and error. It is something I do since I’m on low spoons a lot so it’s good to help me check in and feel different energies

89. Do you feel you have any natural gifts or affinities (premonitions, hearing spirits, etc.) that led you toward the craft? If so what are they?Probably sensing spirits and high empathy

90. Do you believe you can initiate yourself or do you have to be initiated by another witch or coven?It depends on how far into the practice you wanna go. I think anyone can begin to be a witch, but if you wanna go all in, you may wanna seek a professional

91. When you first started out in your path what was the first thing or things you bought?A rose quartz crystal

92. What is the most spiritual or magickal place you’ve been?Bell rock in Sedona, AZ. It’s full of New Age and good energies

93. What’s one piece of advice you’d give someone who is searching for their matron and patron deities?Trust your gut and listen to your intuition.

94. What techniques do you use to ‘get in the zone’ for meditation? Controlled breathing and muscle tensing and relaxing

95. Did visualization come easily to you or did you have to practice at it?Yeah it is very easy for me

96. Do you prefer day or night? Why?Night. There’s something magical about the quiet of night…. or nightlife when it’s not super chaotic. Plus, night is when the truth comes out sometimes. I have most of my “real talks” with people at night.

97. What do you think is the best time and place to do spell work?For me personally, in a place I can feel energies and usually during a full or new moon

98. How did you feel when you cast your first circle? Did you stumble or did it go smoothly?I stumble a lot. Like a looot I was super unsure of the whole thing

99. Do you believe witchcraft gets easier with time and practice?Definitely. You begin to get a hang of what youre doing and get better at being mindful of energies and surroundings

100. Do you believe in many gods or one God with many faces? Many gods

101. Do you eat meat, eggs and dairy?Yes

102. What is your favorite color and why?Blue, Black, and lavender. They’re comforting colors

103. What is the one question you get asked most by non-practitioners or non-pagans? How do you usually respond?“So like, is it like a Harry Potter thing or??” I kinda just roll my eyes mentally and answer with a general explanation of what I do. Also when they see the crystals it’s “so what do the crystals mean/do” and I am happy to explain it

104. Which of your five senses would you say is your strongest? Hearing

105. What is a pagan or witchcraft rule that you preach but don’t practice?I think I practice generally what I preach.