#Kovak

[univrsalsound]

how about playing with their hair while they sleep for kovak and ilspeth!! 😳

— from this ask prompt.

A candle burns on the windowsill of the gardener’s cottage on the edge of the Zevoraxi estate. Despite Ilspeth’s suggestion to see Kovak moved into the room adjacent the master suite within the main house, Kovak can’t bring herself to abandon this last bastion of familiarity –  the last remnants of her father’s legacy. Her father had never had much to his name – but he’d raised Kovak under this roof, and she can feel his presence in every creaking board, every leaky window. 

It’s just as well that Kovak has this little pocket of solitude, away from the social intricacies of the barony and the watchful eyes of the rest of the staff. The cottage is one of the few places that still feels like a sanctuary, despite its structural shortcomings. Kovak needs it – warm and cozy, cluttered yet tidy. The cottage is a place to let her mind relax – a place she doesn’t have to defend. This place defends her. 

It’s raining outside, a chilly damp blanketing the atmosphere. A tin pot near the front door goes tink, tink, tink, as rain drips into it from a leak in the roof. Kovak tucks a piece of cut firewood into the iron stove keeping the place warm, straightening and wiping her hands on her thighs as she turns to peer at the bed in the corner. A smile tugs at the edges of her lips, a quiet appreciativeness settling over her features.

Ilspeth is tangled up in a blanket, glasses askew on her nose, a book propped open and flipped downward across her chest. Her hair is a thick halo around her head, fanned out against Kovak’s pillow like a peacock’s feathers, like Ilspeth had fallen from the sky as quickly and as thoughtlessly as a drop of rain. She’s fast asleep – mouth open, snoring, earning every second of rest.

This is a familiar dance, though one Kovak hasn’t yet gotten tired of. Her footsteps are light and quiet as she makes her way across the floor, expertly avoiding all the spots she knows will creak and risk waking the baroness. She slides the glasses from Ilspeth’s face, freezing momentarily as the half-elf sputters and sighs, shifting in her slumber. Kovak counts to five before pulling the book from Ilspeth’s relenting fingers, dog-earing the page before folding it shut and setting it aside.

Kovak settles herself on the bed next to Ilspeth, shoulders propped against the wall as she watches the baroness breathe. After a few moments, she can’t help herself – the fingers of her left hand deftly – if not idly – toy with the ends of Ilspeth’s hair, twisting end over end as Kovak ponders the almost cosmic enormity of her situation. How can it be that someone like Ilspeth would fall for anyone like Kovak? How can she sleep so peacefully – so soundly – in a leaky cottage, surrounded by old books and windowsills burnt by old candle wax? Surely a palace would be nicer with its sturdy walls and sealed rooftops.

But Ilspeth never fails to surprise Kovak – even now, even still. Pale green fingers weave their way into the ends of the baroness’ thick waves of hair, both idle and intentional in the same breath. The half-elf moves toward Kovak’s legs, snoring as she goes – it takes a great deal of Kovak’s self control to keep herself still, terrified she might wake her. At this point, however, Kovak ought to know better – the cottage might very well come down around them and Ilspeth would likely sleep through it. 

Kovak slides herself down, slotting an arm beneath Ilspeth and pulling the half-elf up and against her chest with little effort. The baroness is a comforting weight against Kovak, her head nestled against Kovak’s shoulder. A stomach-turning fondness creeps through Kovak’s consciousness as she takes note of the way Ilspeth’s cheek smushes against the skin of Kovak’s shoulder. The bodyguard slides a hand into Ilspeth’s hair, rubbing gentle circles into her scalp.

[nathzzi]

Paul Ramboux (1932-2023)

Falleció el Artista visual belga Paul Ramboux a los 91 años de edad. Descanse en Paz Paul Ramboux (05/10/23)

[thetzar]

Via TikTok

Lawdy Lawd 🤗

[colinodonoghue]

Colin O'Donoghue as Michael Kovak ↳ The Rite (2011)

[cinnamon-stixs]

silly gay man

[briefsfan1986]

Joe Kovaks underwear ad. So hot.

[patientlibrarian]

Sunday October 20 - Happy Scruff Sunday

pic courtesy gv-archive.com

Hello everyone, everywhere, hope your day goes as you would wish it to.

I post every day, usually before 10am GMT (UK time) so please join me again. Find me on AO3 for all my stories.

Two stories coming soon.

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

Vincent Price and Nancy Kovak - Diary of a Madman (1963)

[jazzbook]

The first time I ever felt Catholic guilt was when I realized I had a crush on the priest in The Rite

[dc-multiverse-week]

Earth-16: Home of the Supersons (Damian Wayne & Chris Kent) and the Justice League, among other heroes. A crimeless utopia where the children of the superheroes live as super-celebrities. In this universe, the Justice League long ago wiped out crime and evil, with Superman leaving behind an army of Superman Robots to protect the Earth.

[is-this-fandom-who-knows]

Hartley: What's up, sluts! Guess who got out of prison again?

Linda: Sluts?

Nick: Prison?

Wally: Again?!

[colinodonoghue]

Colin O'Donoghue as Michael Kovak ↳ The Rite (2011)

[deadpersonsuperstar]

Tumblr Hunger

[quisters]

More podcast fanart hehehe >:)

[cannibal-yearn]

The Rite (2011)

[patientlibrarian]

Wednesday September 18 - what's up today?

A mixture:

Just in love with this pic at the moment.

Hello everyone, everywhere,hope your day goes as you would wish it to.

I post every day, usually before 10am GMT (UK time) so please join me again. Find me on AO3 for my other stories.

A follow-up story to the "Happy Birthday Garcia Flynn" challenge, ("The Sweetest Kiss Of All") which can also stand alone, "is coming shortly on AO3.