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malecsecretsanta · 4 years ago

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Merry Christmas, incorrect-malec!

For @incorrect-malec. This is the first part to a larger fic which will be updated sometime after the reveal, as the plot ran away from me! I tried to incorporate as many of the proposed likes as I could to make this an interesting and fun gift! Happy holidays, dear giftee, I hope you sincerely enjoy your present ❤️

Minor content warning for some cursing and small mentions of blood.

*****

find me here (amidst the chaos)

“Mr. Lightwood-Bane? You have a special visitor.”

Alec glances up from the spread of ridiculous red tape sprawled across his desk. An antique grandfather clock nestled in the corner behind him ticks away the idle seconds.

“Ah.” Alec leans into the high-backed support of his office chair. “Mr. Lightwood-Bane, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

Magnus glides into the room, shutting the ornate door behind him with a heavy thud. “You forgot your lunch. I assumed it was all a simple ploy to trick me into bringing some for you.”

“A reasonable assumption.”

“I probably shouldn’t be indulging in such skulduggery,” Magnus skirts around the desk, his magic tidying the paperwork into neat piles off to the side. “Alas, it has been some long six hours since I last saw my husband, and I’m little other than a fool for love.”

Alec stands and sways into Magnus’ space. “It is known to be a great weakness of yours.”

“Love?” Magnus wraps his arms around Alec’s neck, soothing his fingers against the nape. “Hardly. Love is too often fleeting. You, however?” He brushes the ghost of a kiss against the corner of Alec’s mouth. “You have always been my greatest weakness.”

Alec kisses Magnus, because it says more than words ever could, because there are no words in any language that he knows which could be enough to express how he feels, how his core is alight and burning hot, how he can’t get close enough without knocking them both over, and even that wouldn’t soothe the ache.

“You didn’t even bring any food with you,” Alec points out, pressing a fleeting kiss to Magnus’ temple, lest he kiss any lower and come away with a shimmer upon his lips. His hands are broad and firm against Magnus’ hips, drawing him close until the ornate buckle of his belt is nestled against Alec’s belly button. He’s slouched, relaxed and calm.

“An easy fix.” Magnus pecks the very tip of Alec’s nose, grinning easy at the way it scrunches. “What are you in the mood for?”

“I really want to visit Sky,” Alec sighs, his shoulders drawing up. “I miss their chebureki. I’m craving their chebureki. But I have to file through this paperwork, or the Clave are going to be breathing down my neck.”

Magnus traces the love rune against the nape of Alec’s neck. “I mean this with every breadth of my soul.” He pulls back, drawn to the mirth that draws Alec’s brow together before staring into hazel eyes which have always held his own gaze with such resolve it’s a wonder he ever questioned them. “Fuck the Clave.”

Alec laughs, hearty and full. Magnus kisses the lines of his eyes, warmth cloaking him like a homemade blanket. This, right here. This is all he needs.

“Is that a proposition? I think I have a form somewhere for interdepartmental relationships, I’d be happy to sign it for you.”

Alec feigns to pull away, his hands falling to his sides. Before he can even turn his body, Magnus takes both of Alec’s hands in his own, kissing the space on his ring finger above his wedding band and the ridges of his knuckles while the other intertwines their fingers, squeezing tight and holding their joined hands against his heart - or, rather, a rough estimation of where his heart is, hidden beneath his unbuttoned silk shirt and floral blazer.

“Burn it.” Magnus insists, resting his chin on the back of Alec’s hand, still held tight within his own. “Or shred it. Do you have a paper shredder? We can start a recycling plan! Saving the planet is really something the Clave should care about. Maybe they can investigate that, and then while they’re busy saving the world - I know that you Shadowhunters love that - we can steal away and pretend you never insinuated that I would ever break our sacred marriage vows for the Clave.”

Alec leans back, tapping the side of Magnus’ sleek ankle boots. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have even joked about it.”

“I wouldn’t break our vows for anything.” Magnus pulls a face. “Suggesting I would do it for the Clave is just insulting, Alexander. I have far better taste than that.”

“Is that so?”

Magnus hums, turning Alec’s hand to kiss down his wrist. “I’m pretty sure I have a certificate somewhere that proves it.” He murmurs, tilting his head into the cup of Alec’s palm against his cheek. “Unless that’s how you tested out your paper shredder? We haven’t cleared up whether it exists yet.”

“Your environmental concerns are heard and are being considered by the Inquisitor at present” Alec teases, before adding. “I’m pretty sure that Aline has a paper shredder in her office. It’s definitely the kind of thing that Helen would have gifted. Probably wrapped in a bow, too.”

“That does sound like our Helen.” Magnus steps forward into the gap of Alec’s thighs. “I’m afraid that all I am hearing is that there is in fact no reason why you can’t take an extended lunch break.” He leans forward, teasing a kiss along the cut of Alec’s jaw. “Perhaps we can even enjoy it in the comfort of our own home.”

They would have, Alec prepared with a half-hearted protest that Magnus would just as quickly swallow, bending the pretence of Alec’s revolve before whisking them away in a portal that would have to be created on the balcony to protect the furniture. They would have enjoyed a lovely meal, and each other’s company, and Magnus would have sent Alec back with a sweet kiss and a promise of reservations for some late night ponchiki, conveniently forgetting to mention that he’s missed a button of his shirt.

Unfortunately, none of that happened.

“Inquisitor Lightwood-Bane? High Warlock Lightwood-Bane?”

Magnus rolls his eyes and steps away from Alec, although his hand skims Alec’s hip. The shadowhunter at the door seems familiar … Montclair something, maybe … yes, Eva Montclair. A sort of glorified P.A for various members of the Clave. Her sudden appearance in Alec’s doorway is not a terrible thing by nature, but Magnus has a feeling given the tightness of her knuckles around the hilt of her seraph blade that it is not good news that she couriers this time.

Eva inhales deeply, her shoulders curled in defensively. “I was told to come and tell you both immediately, I’m sorry if I’ve interrupted anything.”

“What’s wrong, Eva?” Alec asks, kind but firm.

“There’s been an instance near Piccadilly. A warlock appears to have recently come into their powers and is struggling with gaining control over them. The Head of the London Institute called them ‘rogue’, but I personally don’t think that’s fair. From the descriptions received all the magic seems to be defensive rather than offensive. The High Warlock there is currently unavailable but suggested that you, Mr. Lightwood-Bane, would be a … ‘fitting substitute’ in his absence?”

Magnus fixes a pleasant smile even as a laugh hiccups in the back of his throat. Ragnor truly says the kindest things. “If this is as you describe, Eva, I’m sure there won’t be any further problems.”

“Please alert the London Institute that we are on our way.” Alec requests. “And please make it clear to them that they are under no circumstances to harm the young warlock. This is no longer any of their concern.”

The hint of a smile toys at the corner of Eva’s mouth, and it’s then that Magnus remembers that she’s married to a warlock herself, and in fact he has met Mars on a few occasions as part of the Downworlder council. Small world.

“Absolutely.” Eva nods, curtly, and ducks out of the room.

Magnus nods towards the balcony doors. “Portal?”

Alec sighs, reaching for Magnus’ hand. “This has to be the fifth call this year alone. I’m starting to think those pamphlets aren't working.”

The balcony doors swing open with a flick of Magnus’ hand.

“Maybe the Institute Heads are just environmentally conscious.”

---

“Angels,” Alec whispers, when they come through the other side of the portal onto a wet cobblestone side-street, the air heavy with unshed rain. “They’re so young.”

The warlock couldn’t possibly be older than eighteen. Their torn jeans are stuffed into worn and muddy old boots, their denim vest is missing sleeves, torn at the shoulder, and the faded band tank underneath looks far too thin for a London evening. Thin, white lines stand out against brown skin, forming stars on their arms like tattoos of varying size, a mark unlike any that Alec has ever seen before and given the slight furrow to Magnus’ brow, it’s not a common one. Their hair is cropped short and pink, which could be a warlock mark, although Alec has his doubts.

“Their mark is glowing.” Magnus comments. “It pulses, see. It’s directly connected to their magic.”

“Is that unusual?” Alec asks, casting an eye around for anything to gain the warlock’s attention without spooking them. “Your eyes glow.”

Magnus drops his glamour. A point is being made, but it isn’t Alec’s. “The pulse is frantic, like their magic, their emotions. Their powers are so new that they haven’t figured out how to control any of it yet. Warlock marks, although rare, do sometimes come with the magic itself. That’s a lot to discover about yourself at once. No wonder they look so frightened, poor dear.”

Alec’s throat tightens when the warlock grips their head and folds over. “We have to help them. I don’t even know how but … we have to help them.”

Magnus grips the back of Alec’s neck, turning him until they’re facing each other. “We will.” Magnus says, firm but kind. “We are their best hope right now, Alexander, and we will help them.” He grazes his thumb along the column of Alec’s nape. “We’re good at this.”

Alec nods, rolling his shoulders back as Magnus’ hand falls away. Magnus gestures and Alec follows his gaze, towards a portable store sign advertising 25% off coats and knitwear - it’s not terribly wide or tall, but if he’s careful he should be able to hide behind it, if temporarily. The last thing they need is for the warlock to feel as though they’ve been trapped, so letting Magnus talk first and providing support without being obvious about it is their best chance at this point in time.

The first time they talked a warlock down Alec had gotten his eyebrows singed off for getting too close, too fast.

“Excuse me?” Magnus has procured a coat, probably from the store behind Alec, his hands shoved into the pockets.

To the unassuming eye, he probably appears to be a concerned citizen, his eyes glamoured once more, although there is an undeniable electricity to him that couldn’t be mistaken by those who know for a thunderstorm. There is a chance that the warlock, although presumably new to their powers, will be able to sense it as well. If that’s the case, their reaction is anyone’s guess. Alec tightens his grip on his bow.

“I’m Magnus Bane.” The warlock glances up with lightning speed, their arms wound tightly around their chest, as though doing so would keep everything in place. Alec is familiar with the feeling. “I’m not going to hurt you. I promise. I’m like you, see?”

Magnus must have dropped his glamour, for the warlock takes a step back, but they lose some of the tension around their shoulders. “May I ask for your name?” He asks, rocking back on his heels.

The warlock hesitates, the stars on their arms pulsing even faster. “Nova.” They say, after what feels to be an hour. Alec lets out a heavy breath and relaxes onto his haunches. This is good.

“Hello, Nova.” Magnus flattens his palm against his chest. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Is it okay if I ask you a few questions? You don’t have to answer any that make you uncomfortable. My only motivation is helping you if I can.”

“What makes you think that you can help me?” Nova spits out. They’re shaking. “I don’t even know what’s happening to me. The other day I was fine, I was normal and then I woke up yesterday and I have these weird tattoos on my arm and today I’m sending things into different rooms with just my thoughts - and none of it makes any sense! None of it!”

Magnus takes a lone step forward, but Nova doesn’t appear to notice. Alec feels a chill crawl down his spine. “You don’t know me, so what I’m about to ask of you probably goes against every instinct you have. Nova, I need you to trust me.”

“Why?”

Magnus takes another step. The hairs on the back of Alec’s neck stand to attention. “Because I’ve been where you are.” Magnus explains. “Lost. Confused. Angry. I was a child when I discovered my magic, what I could do with it. I didn’t have anybody to help me, and I always vowed that I wouldn’t let that happen to others, if I could help it. I want to help you.”

“What am I?” Nova furiously shakes their head, gripping at their elbows so tight little pinpricks of blood skate down their arms. “Why is this happening to me?”

“I prefer to call myself a warlock. Many of us do.” Magnus explains. He holds out his palm, letting a blue flame collect in the centre. “You can refer to yourself however you like. You can just be Nova, and nothing more, if you want.”

“But the magic … that won’t go away?”

Magnus shakes his head. “No. Take my word for it, you will only cause yourself more harm if you try. It’s not all bad.” The flame in Magnus’ hand turns into a cupcake, with a small sugary rainbow on top of the cream white frosting. “Once you learn how to control it, the things you’ll be able to do are incredible.”

“I lost a mug.” Nova laughs, a fragile thing. “It’s so stupid. I just threw it at the wall, but it didn’t smash or anything it just … disappeared. I looked for hours. It’s not even important, it was a quid or something but it … it’s gone. I did that. I don’t know how but wherever it’s ended up is because of me. What if - what if I do that to somebody? Make them … disappear.”

“I don’t think so.” Magnus is a few feet away now if that. “The kind of power that takes is … astronomical, not to mention the technical restraint. The worst you might do is cause some minor injuries, but even that is rare.”

Nova’s stars are glowing steadily. “Have you ever made someone disappear?”

“Not without the intent to do so.”

The answer seems to appease Nova. Alec stays hunched down, it doesn’t look like Magnus needs his support, although it would be nice to stretch his back soon, although he still trains from time to time, he isn’t exactly as young as he used to be.

“Magnus Bane. Step away from the rogue warlock at once. This is no longer an issue for the Downworlder Council to handle, this has become an Institute matter and will thus be handled by Shadowhunters. Your services have not proven useful, and this warlock must be subdued before any harm is caused.”

The electricity in the air gets sharper. Alec hesitates but eventually rises slowly from his crouched position. He catches the minute the Institute Head, Stephen Highsmith, sees him and the flood of blood to his cheeks and forehead. A second later, his head whips towards Nova, who is clutching at their head, their wide eyes caught between the three of them. Alec doesn’t have the time to search for the Shadowhunters positioned around them, knows on instinct that they’re surrounded, that the only way out is through talking and, if that fails, a little violent liberty.

“The warlock is a child.” He states, stalking out from behind the sign. He grips his bow tight and positions himself diagonally from Magnus, firm in his defence. “Surely you have higher morals than that, Stephen.”

Highsmith, a weasely man riding the coattails of his family name, sneers and draws his seraph blade. He’d never been too good as a Shadowhunter, from all accounts, but power is a currency and money talks. “It was very honourable of you to leave your post and flock to my streets, Inquisitor Lightwood, but I’m afraid your presence is simply not necessary. My men and I have it handled.”

“I’m sure you’re very capable of handling precarious situations, Mr. Highsmith.” Butter wouldn’t melt in Magnus’ mouth. “However, as High Warlock Fell is currently out of the country and has given permission for Alexander and myself to fulfil his duties in his place, I do believe it is a case best left to us. We don’t intend to intrude upon your delicate sensibilities, I’m sure you’re a very busy man who has much better things to do than to waste your time on such a small affair.”

“For the record.” Alec smiles with no heart. “It’s Lightwood-Bane. A simple mistake, I’m sure, but an important thing to rectify. Names carry a lot of importance and weight, you know.”

Highsmith splutters. “I do not have time for this!”

“Neither do we.” Magnus stalks closer, until he’s within arms distance from Highsmith. Alec inches closer to Nova, now bent over with their palms pressed against their eyelids. “This is a matter for the Downworlder council, and as it’s representatives, we will take care of it. The longer you argue and fight with us over this, however, the longer it will take until we are out of your hair.”

The back of Alec’s neck prickles with heat. Magnus continues to admonish Highsmith. “Neither Alexander nor I will budge until Nova is safe. Believe me when I tell you that there is nobody more equipped to handle this than us, and if you don’t take your leave quietly and with what little grace you can summon, you will be responsible for whatever harm or damage is caused.”

“How dare you speak to me like that!” Highsmith’s face is blotchy and red.

“Quite easily.” Magnus twists his fingers, a white-hot blast landing at Highsmith’s feet. His shoes turn into fluffy bunny slippers. The ears flop when he pounds his feet. “Respect is earnt, Mr. Highsmith, and quite frankly you have done nothing worth receiving mine.”

A low muttering draws Alec’s attention. Nova has sunk onto their knees, the heel of their palms digging into their eyes. Alec quietly side-steps closer, holding his bow behind his back so as not to terrify Nova even more.

“I just want to go home. I just want this all to end. I want to go home.”

Alec sneaks a glance towards Magnus, still holding defence against Highsmith, who has acquired shocking green hair and a yellow high-visibility vest alongside the bunny slippers. Perhaps it won’t go as smoothly as if Magnus were the one talking Nova down, he can connect with them in a way Alec never would, but he can offer support - just as long as he can calm Nova down, draw them away from the conflict, that’s all … then they can dismiss Highsmith because there would be no ‘warlock problem’ and Nova’s safety and comfort could once again take priority.

“Nova?” Alec crouches down, rocking back on his heels. “My name is Alec. I’m a friend of Magnus’. We’re going to do our best to get you home, okay?”

Nova starts rocking back and forth. Their tattoos glow brighter than before, a luminescent blue that pricks at the back of Alec’s eyes. “I want to go home.” They continue to murmur, in a voice that takes on a warbled effect, as though they were speaking underwater. “I just want to go home.”

“Where do you live?” Alec asks. “Do you live in London?”

Nova falls to their knees. In the distance, Alec hears Magnus’ tone getting sharper, although he can’t make out exactly what is being said, it doesn’t fill him with much confidence that a productive conversation is being had. Nova keeps rocking, folded over into themselves. Blood streaks down their forearms, small droplets collecting behind their ears from where their fingers had dug into their scalp.

“Enough is enough!” Highsmith shouts. Shadowhunters spill out from the dark, armed to the teeth with all manner of weapons, seraph blades and a few staves, the odd throwing star attached at the hip. Archers are scattered across the rooftops around them, arrows notched and aimed.

“Highsmith.” Magnus’ hands crackle as blue flame licks at his fingertips, wrapping around his arms. “I’ve made an attempt at civility, but you are clearly not interested in politics. Fine. Take this as a warning. Recall your soldiers. Stand down. I cannot guarantee everyone’s safety if you do not heed this warning, and the dangerous consequences your refusal could inflict are limitless. This young warlock is frightened. Let us look after them, and I assure you, nobody will get hurt.”

“I have had enough of your whining.” Highsmith spits. “This is now Shadowhunter business. Perhaps a few days in a cold cell will teach this young warlock how to control their powers.”

It all happens in a flash. Literally, an actual flash.

Alec rushes forward to protect Nova, futile as it might be, his bow poised towards the nearest threat - a Shadowhunter only a few feet away with a seraph blade drawn and pointed at the back of Nova’s head. A static roaring fills his ears, but he pushes through, hardly aware of his own body as an arrow is sent flying into the Shadowhunter’s shoulder. His skin starts to prick and burn, from his hands up to his neck and rushing down to his ankles like a wildfire coursing through a forest. His heart beats in tune with Nova’s words, I want to go home, thud thud thud thud thud.

Alec shuts his eyes against a luminescent white light, stumbling as the ground falls out from beneath him and an echo calls out for him, a desperate plea of his name shouted underwater.

Magnus?

I just want to go home.

---

Alexander? Alexander!

---

The air smells like metal and thunderstorms. Magnus whirls on his heel, angry tears racing down his cheeks. Hell, hath no fury like a warlock scorned.

“Listen to me you weasely git.” Magnus spits. “I’m done playing civil. My husband is missing because you wanted to play hero for the first time in your poor, forsaken life. Sad you never got to play soldiers with the big boys? Well, guess it’s your lucky day. I am going to take Nova with me back to Alicante, and while I’m there, I’m going to ensure that my lovely friend Consul Penhallow is updated with everything that occurred here today. Unfortunately for you, her wife has family in the area, some of whom I am sure wouldn’t mind stepping up to keep an eye on you. I’ve seen how you conduct yourself, and if it is any indication of how your Institute is run, I guarantee it is not a position that you will retain for much longer.”

Magnus raises a hand. The Shadowhunters flanking Highsmith sheath their weapons. “Withdraw your forces and go slinking back. This is not a request. You did not heed my warning, but you will weather the consequences.”

He turns, uninterested in sparring Highsmith another second of his time. Magnus didn’t see the flash, but he recognised the sign of a portal, although … there’s something about this one that is bugging him.

Today I’m sending things into different rooms with just my thoughts … I don’t know how but wherever it’s ended up is because of me … what if I do that to somebody? Make them disappear?

“Fuck.”

Nova is sitting cross-legged on the floor, staring at their hands as though they’re something alien. Magnus collapses in front of them, a mirror-reflection. They’re shaking, tremors like the ground before an earthquake.

The earthquake has come. This is the aftershock.

“I don’t know what happened.” Nova whispers, harshly. “I just wanted everything to stop. I kept wishing that I could go home, and everything got really muffled, like I was wrapped in cotton or something, but I was still here and there was so much noise, so much shouting and I was so scared-”

“Might I reach for your hand?” Magnus asks. Nova glances up, their cheeks stained with dried tears. They nod, wordlessly. Magnus turns their palms over, tracing the lines with his fingers where they glow intermittently, as though a light was shining from beneath their skin.

“You’re not mad?”

“No.” Magnus’ smile is a little thin, a little bittersweet. “Not at you. I know that Alexander is okay, wherever he is, and that’s all that matters to me.”

Nova shakes their head. “He could be dead, I could have-”

“You didn’t.” Magnus assures them. “I would know if he was, as sure as you knew when your magic appeared. Which, if I recall correctly, you said was behaving volatile today?”

Nova’s fingers curl against Magnus’. “That flash. I felt like an exposed wire. I felt…” Nova frowns. “Right as it happened, I felt really calm all of a sudden, but also … like my magic? I guess? Was being pulled out of me. I wasn’t scared anymore, though, I felt … comforted. Safe? But then I opened my eyes, and everything was the same, and all that fear came flooding back.”

Jagged pieces are coming together in Magnus’ mind. It’s a working theory, and a weak one at that, but it’s something and that’s enough for him to cling onto, to keep his sanity.

“Nova. I don’t mean to pressure you, so please do not take it that way, you are of course free to go wherever you please - I promise the Shadowhunters, the lot dressed in all black with their pointy egos, won’t cause you any harm, but … if you’re willing, I could use your help.”

“My help?”

Magnus wicks a portal into existence. The wind around them picks up leaves and twigs but in the little bubble he creates for them, they are safe. “This is a portal. I sort of invented them. I have a feeling that what you did is not all that dissimilar, but I need your help to figure that out. I hope that I’ll be able to help you better understand your own powers, and get my husband back, but only if it is something you are comfortable with.”

Nova stares at the portal in wonder. They nod, hesitant at first and then firmer with every movement. “Whatever happened … it was my fault. I know you don’t blame me, somehow, but if I can help … I have to. You and your husband were willing to do anything to help me, it’s the least I can do.”

“It only takes a word, if at any point you want to bow out, or you don’t feel comfortable or safe, your commitment ends. There’s no obligation here, okay?”

Nova nods. Magnus stands gingerly, wiping the dirt of the back of his pants and extending a hand to help pull them up. “You’ll need to keep tight hold of my hand.” He instructs. “Don’t let go until I say it’s safe, otherwise I could lose you too.”

Nova squeezes Magnus’ hand. “We’ll find him.” They promise.

“Of course, we will.” Magnus smiles, wishing he could even half-convince himself.

---

Alec focuses his landing on the balls of his feet, leaning back to distribute his weight to his heels to cushion the impact. It’s fortunate that, despite the length of time he’s spent behind a desk instead of in the field, he’s managed to keep up with his training. That fall could have wiped him out.

He takes a few seconds to focus on what he can hear, smell, see; the floor beneath him is a dark mahogany, freshly polished, the sunlight leaking in from the north facing window between drawn burgundy curtains. Outside the window echoes a busy street, tolling bells and warm chatter and … horses?

“Quite a grand entrance. Most people just use the doorbell.”

The voice, familiar in the wrong ways, sweeps under his feet and knocks him backwards, scattered along the floor. It’s only magic, which he recognises beneath its coldness, that saves him from knocking over a beautiful porcelain vase sat precariously atop an equally beautiful, engraved end table.

“Then again, I’m not sure I would have invited a Shadowhunter into my home.”

The voice belongs to Magnus, but he is … not himself. At least not the one that Alec knows. It’s rather like seeing a distorted mirror image for all that stands out to him as wrong.

The hardened glaze of Magnus’ glamoured eyes. The sneer of his mouth. The white of his knuckles curled around the top of a hardback novel. The muted colours, from his hair to his makeup-free face, to the dark pants with thin silver lines and matching suspenders over a plain black shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. The line of his body along the gilded lounge is carefully constructed to suggest a nonchalance which is betrayed by the tension Alec can see in the rigidity of his limbs; he’s poised to attack.

This is not the Magnus that Alec recognises, this is a stranger with his husband’s face, his history, and his memories but not his present - or, rather, as Alec is quickly coming to suspect, his future.

“I’m sorry.” Alec tries to stand up, but as soon as his hands touch the floor, they become stuck, as though someone has glued them to the wood. His feet too are rooted in place.

“Oh, no. Please don’t apologise. It’s not as though you barged into my home, my private sanctuary, with no warning.” Magnus purses his lips. “You did not pull a weapon on me. I will admit that is a nice change.”

Alec can’t feel along his back for his quiver, but he’s fairly certain his weapons hadn’t travelled with him. Magnus had cloaked them to appear when he needed them, but it’s unlikely they were spelled in preparation for a situation such as this. Not that he is 100% clear on what this even is.

“Who are you?” Magnus waves a hand dismissively. “Please don’t say ‘Shadowhunter’, I am quite aware of that much, even if your runes weren’t visible only child soldiers hold themselves with such rigid arrogance. I will concede the outfit is quite out of the ordinary, however.”

Alec clears his throat. He has to be delicate about this. “My name is Alexander.” He shifts his weight and draws his shoulders in as best he can. “Alexander L-uh, Wayland. Alexander Wayland.”

Smooth.

Magnus hums, folding his book and letting it fall onto the glass table in front of him. “I had suspected for a fleeting moment that you might have been a Lightwood. No matter.” He elegantly sweeps his legs over until both are flat on the ground, his hands clasped between his knees as he leans forward with a seamless, lethal grace. “The real question I need an answer to would be how a lanky Nephilim such as yourself made it past my wards to crash into the very room in which I had been trying to enjoy some peace and quiet. London isn’t exactly known for such these days.”

“London?” Alec echoes, without quite thinking much of it.

Despite his foolish hope that he might have been wrong, the evidence was insurmountable and quite literally staring him in the face - however it might have happened, when he’d moved towards Nova he’d been sent falling and inevitably crashing into 1884. Magnus had only stayed in London for a year, hadn’t been back since, and Alec has seen the photos of him, Ragnor and Camille, recognises the darkness in Magnus’ gaze as when he first talked about Camille, and how she had torn him to pieces, discarding him without a thought after she was no longer satisfied with him.

“Magnus, Archibald has two extra tickets for tonight’s - oh. I do not recall you informing me that you were intending on having company for the night.”

A tall, slender blonde man hovers in the doorway, staring at Alec with equal parts vague intrigue and thinly veiled distaste. Everything about him exudes taste and elegance, but there is a familiarity to his features that itches at the back of Alec’s mind. He knows the man’s face, has never met him, he doesn’t think, but knows him in the distant way that one knows legends and heroes.

“The tickets are all yours, Woolsey.” Magnus doesn’t take his eyes off Alec. “I am afraid it appears I will be a little preoccupied, I have some unexpected business to take care off. Enjoy the play on my behalf.”

Woolsey Scott. The founder of the Praetor Lupus.

This isn’t funny anymore.

“Of course.” The corner of Woolsey’s mouth ticks up. None of the documentation around him could have ever come close to capturing the real thing. Magnus had mentioned him a few times, off handed, but Alec can see how they would have gotten along. “Don’t wait up, my dear. I certainly won’t be.”

Just as quickly as he had come sweeping in, Woolsey is gone, and Alec is left to sit glued to the floor while Magnus picks him apart by gaze alone. After a few uncomfortable minutes where the distant ticking of a grandfather stirs Alec a little mad, a chair slides across the polished floor, coming to a stop seamlessly next to Alec. The magic around his hands and feet disappear. He can wiggle his toes again.

“I kindly suggest that you take a seat.” Magnus states in a tone that leaves no room for a refusal. “I have a few questions that need answering.”

TBC on AO3

#incorrect-malec #malecsanta20 #*fic20 #*gifts20

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fridays--child · 5 years ago

Text

A Lesson in Vulnerability

Was going for smut, ended up with the feels. Please enjoy(?) another rough, unedited post, including baby's first lemon in a decade.

Prompt “Of course deacon has a lot of disguises. One for each personality.”

Rating: 18+

“I’ve never met someone who has so many clothes. Except, you know, me.”

Galatea huffed a laugh. “What, you’re not the only one that has a different disguise for each personality?”

Meeting her eyes through their reflections distorted by the cracked full length mirror, Deacon placed his hand over his heart.

“You wound me. But seriously, did you swipe a whole Fallon’s store?”

Rolling her eyes at him, Galatea responded, “Is that where you got yours from?”

Deacon had never met a person who could transform herself quite like Galatea, who could change her whole being to attract or deflect attention as needed. With her hair up and under a hat, shoulders slumped in a man’s shirt and slacks, she was utterly unremarkable. Just another grimy wastelander, trying to eke a living before the rads, raiders, or bigots dug you an early grave. With a little lipstick and dark curls around her face, she was a bombshell come to life, a pre-war Aphrodite in a wiggle dress and heels. A magnet with a dimmer switch, pushing and pulling those in her wake. A human chameleon, no face change needed.

If he could choose a favourite (and he knew he had no right to), he’d probably say this incarnation was his. In her tiny green Goodneighbor apartment, with her shoes and jeans kicked off, analysing every item in her wardrobe before lovingly folding them, packing the chosen items into their shared duffle bag. She had kicked her shoes and jeans off as soon as she walked in the door, her makeup nearly worn off from the days travel back north. Even after a two week sabbatical, the closest thing to R&R he could offer, she still cackled with a nervous energy, a soft but increasing hum indistinguishable to those who didn’t know her.

It felt almost domestic, a wink of his long-forgotten earlier life. A false intimacy between two liars and secret keepers, ignoring the gulf that still existed between them despite the stings and firefights and sex.

But if he was about to put both of them in just stupid amounts of danger, he would take it greedily.

Galatea scrunched her nose at an old fisherman’s sweater, throwing into the bag before picking up a modest evening dress. She whistled at Deacon to pause shaving the two week’s growth from his face, holding it up to his mirrored eyeline.

“Do you think Mags would like this? Or is it not,” Galatea mimed a triangle from her collarbones to sternum, “enough?”

“Probably a little conservative for her.”

“All good, I’ll send it to Piper then. Unless,” she smirked, “you were planning to gender bend again next time you face swap?”

He snickered at her, bringing the straight razor back to his jaw. “‘Fraid I don’t have the decolletage for that doll, I’d never do it justice. Why, would you like that?”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “It wouldn’t be my first rodeo with a woman.”

Temporarily stunned, Deacon gulped as the blood left his head and headed south, earning a dirty barked laugh from Galatea.

“Oh, now you’ve nicked yourself, you degenerate. Mind out of the gutter.”

She threw him a face cloth from across the room, before dragging one of the two dining chairs across the room to the small basin and mirror before straddling it backwards. Pushing her two long braids towards her back, she looked up at the older man expectedly.

“Go on then.”

“Beg pardon?” She kept staring. “If you’re after a steam and shave, you might be knocking on the door. I gotta tell ya, if that’s your stubble, you’ve gotta teach me how to get such a close shave.”

For the first time in the months they worked together, Galatea’s voice wobbled.

“Cut my hair please.”

Deacon frowned down at her. “Are you sure?” When she nodded, he added, “why are you so nervous? I’ve seen you destroy coursers and super mutants practically laughing.”

Huffing slightly, she undid the buttons of her shirt. For a minute, he was momentarily lost for words. He had always been aware of the mottled skin that ran from the edge of the left-hand edge of her jaw down. Had wondered once or twice if the reason she always wore a high neck or scarf was to hide it, perhaps selfishly wondering if it made her too recognisable to go undercover with him. Each button she undid revealed a greater expanse of burnt flesh, melting into the soft cognac of her untouched skin and disappearing underneath the worn bra she wore. Galatea’s eyes flicked down to it.

“Well, there’s no use hiding it now, and it’s not like I’ll have time to do this mop.”

Deacon nodded, gulping. “Where, ah.. How long do you want it?”

“Whatever, so long as I can still tie it back.”

Flicking open the mounted first aid kit, he grabbed out the rusted scissors, before carefully lining up the two plaits and snipping them in line with her scarred chin. Galatea’s eyes dropped to her lap, murmuring.

“I can’t believe you convinced me to infiltrate the Brotherhood of Steel.”

Deacon scoffed, fervently lining up the dark layers of her locks to make sure they’re even.

“I can’t believe Des thought we were the ones to do it.”

“Mmm. I mean, are you even able to still pass the fitness test, old man?”

Deacon pulled a face in the mirror, moving around to tame the waves around her face. “Careful with the guy whose cutting your hair, sweetheart.” Galatea gently slapped his arm in response.

“I swear to God, if you give me a hack job and I need to get a buzz cut, I will utter your recall code.”

A slightly awkward, but common silence fell between them. Deacon cleared his throat, pushing the edges of her shirt down her shoulders so he could blow off the stray hairs around her neck.

“I, uh, was wondering what you had hiding under there. Got to admit, slightly disappointed it wasn’t the Death Bunnies chest piece I was imagining.”

Galatea choked a hint of a laugh, betrayed by the wobble of her voice, pretty mouth hiding behind her fist.

“Trust me, even this,” she motioned to her chest, “would be preferable to tattoo Deak.”

Resting his hands on her neck, he gave her hair a final appraisal, catching the tremble as she swallowed. Meeting her glassy eyes in the mirror, he lifted her head up to meet his.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Don’t tell me you’re offended about the Death Bunnies tattoo. I told ya, I’m happy to be matchies if you are.”

She didn’t answer, shaking her head.

“Is it about this?”

“It’s stupid,” she muttered, shaking her head once more. “I should be used to it by now, but it still bothers me. It’s a reminder that this is real, and that I can’t go back.”

Staring into his glasses, she added, “Do you ever cling to the old parts of yourself, Deak?”

Galatea had a habit of getting of close, of nearly drawing the parts of him he kept buried deep to the surface. A pandora’s box of ugly truths that would mark him as a sinner even to the faithless. He could offer no words of comfort without incinerating them both.

So when she leaned into the fire, he responded with igniting the only common ground they both held.

Sliding one hand to trace her jaw, the other hand’s finger tips traced the edges where her smooth skin turned rough. These fingers were replaced with his lips, chaste at first before her breath hitched. He mouthed at her neck, wishing his tongue and teeth could heal the residual sting. She rolled her neck at his touch, lips catching the hand on her jaw and sucking the fingers there.

Deacon knelt in front of her, continuing his ministrations down her breasts and abs, roughly pulling at her shirt and bra to continue his pilgrimage along the mottled cognac. Galatea melted in the chair, sliding forward as he lifted her hips to pull off the unneeded garments, along with her faded, once pretty underwear. He ran a thumb down along her heat, and the egotist inside him cheered at the wet dripping from her lips.

“Spread your legs for me,” he growled, nipping at the strong thighs. “I want you to watch yourself.”

It was an undeserved gift to watch this woman above him, undulating and moaning as he mouthed her cunt. Something only fitting for a man with a less blasphemous tongue than his. But they both worshipped at the altar of liars and cheats, and if there was one good deed within his power that could push him towards redemption, this would be it. To grant Galatea a taste of heaven, despite the purgatory she had wandered for years.

Jesus, he was getting sentimental in his old age.

Deacon fucked his tongue into her, lapping hungrily at the soft pink folds. She seldom came when he was inside her (something she assured him occurred with all previous partners), but her thighs shook around his shoulders, and damn it if he wasn’t going to try. He slipped one thick finger in, then a second, searching and crooking as he doubled his attention on her clit.

Galatea swore incoherently, a rambling rant of “ Deacon, fuck, Deacon!” as she gripped the arms of the chair. A broken sob ripped through her chest, and she slumped against him, roughly pushing him away while her breathing laboured. He could feel wet salty tears against his neck, and he held her face in his hands.

“Hey hey hey, shh. Galatea, it’s okay, okay? It’s okay.” He kissed her gently. “Was it too much?”

She nodded slowly, consciously trying to control her breathing.

“Just got a bit overstimulated. Give me a sec?” He nodded. He had been a tender man once, attentive, and he allowed the ghost of that man kiss her softly, letting her taste herself. She licked herself off his mouth, reaching towards his glasses as they bumped against the bridge of her nose.

“Take them off for me, Deak.”

A secret for a secret, a fair trade. He hesitated for a second, then let her remove them, her dark eyes analysing his face with the same intensity she held whenever she faced a new problem. It was a bit like staring into the sun. He wished it would burn him until there was nothing left but ash.

“Huh.”

“What?”

“Pretty. I wouldn’t have guessed your eyes were blue.”

He groaned, silencing her compliment with a kiss before resting his forehead on hers.

“You were so fucking close.”

“I know.”

“You taste so fucking good. Tell me what you want. Anything.”

She kissed him again, hungrily, small hands gripping this throat. They could count on one hand the times he had kissed her before this, even if he had lost count of the times they had slept together before this. He moaned into her mouth, resulting in a breathless chuckle.

“I want you to fuck me.”

Deacon lifted her up roughly, carrying her to the bed. He was an older man, sore, with a crink in his back and knees that throbbed every time it rained. And yet, he bargained, he would take this small act of self-flagellation for the sweet prize it held. A little death, and, more importantly, his best agent at her best.

She giggled at his involuntary grunt of pain, and shooed the small calico kitten off of her bed Deacon stumbled towards. Pushing him back towards the pillows at the head, she straddled him. He felt thick, hot and throbbing beneath her, and distracted hands pulled off his jeans whilst he ripped his holey white t-shirt off. Licking her palm, she pumped him slowly, before lowering herself onto his cock and hissing at that sting. Even if she was no longer 210 years untouched, she still savoured the stretch, the feeling of him filling her. Deacon growled, gripping her hips and fighting the urge to fuck up into her. Grabbing her wrists in one hand, he moved them from where they covered her chest to grip the metal bed frame.

“No more hiding.” He used the other to roll her hips against his, steadying the jerky rhythm she was finding and meeting her thrust for thrust.

Galatea picked up her pace, rising and sinking, punctuating each snap of her hips with a breathy moan. Deacon busied his mouth on her chest, sucking and nipping at her full chest, tracing the small inked shapes and initials that littered over her ribs and arms. Galatea rode him wildly, intimately, containing none of the usual composure she usually held, even in their most perverse moments. He mouthed the S.A.M, italicised in black on her wrist, desperately trying to ignore the lick of fire in his filling his belly, racing Galatea to their release. She huffed desperately, ungracefully, as his fingers traced haphazard shapes around the bud between her thighs.

“Deaks, Deacon , I’m so close. So close.”

“I know baby, fuck. What do you need.”

She sobbed. “My name, please. Say it. My real one.”

Her cunt contracted around his cock, impossibly tight and deliciously hot, and he fucked up desperately into her, crushing her bodily to his chest. He could feel that familiar pull, stretching and teetering on the edge, and he sunk his teeth into her neck, bruising the unharmed side of her through

“Jesus, Gene. Imogene . I’m gonna, shit, I’m going to come!”

Galatea unravelled around him, sobbing, splendid and terrible in her climax. Deacon pushed her off him, letting her fall against the mattress and pumping himself as he spilled over his stomach and her thighs. He fell back against the mattress, breathing heavily, as his partner’s slowly steadied. Pushing the hair off from her face, he met her eyes, before wrapping a lazy arm low along her back. His muscles burned, and he longed to sleep. When was the last time he slept in a bed?

“You okay?”

Galatea nodded. “Yes.”

“Mmm.”

A beat of silence, then. “Deacon?”

“Mhmm?”

“Thanks.”

“S’all good.” He yawned, stretching his spare arm above his head. “Thanks for letting me see you naked.”

Gene slapped his aching abs. “Shut up and go to sleep.”

#gene grady #prompt #Fallout 4 #deacon x sole survivor #deacon #nsft #FO4 #sole survivor #female sole survivor

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writeblrfantasy · 4 years ago

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excerpt from The King of Eingard

Feryn bolts into the office, yelling, “Cygnus, the army is home!” and dashes out again. Cygnus abandons the report he’d been reading and runs after her. After the immediate footsteps of his guards, he hears everyone in the offices rise from their chairs to follow. Everyone is eager to glimpse the returning procession.

He pushes through crowds of clamoring citizens to the front of his palace, where he sees a seemingly endless line of horses and carts. At the front is Jes on her proud chestnut horse, in full army regalia and waving to everyone she sees. Other ruby wrist tattoos wave beside her, but Amina is not among them.

Harlan races out in front of him, and when Cygnus shifts, he sees them. Esther on a brown horse next to a woman waving to the crowd on a white horse. It takes him a moment to realize it’s Ruby, because this woman has short hair, shorter than his. Grace, they’ll really look like siblings now. Her muscles are bigger, too. Everyone’s are.

Cygnus feels like he could fly, or bloody sing, or shake hands with grace herself. He can’t be pressed to even remember what a rumor is, let alone worry about one. Grace at least granted one of his wishes, since the women are home safe with grins the size of Orenda on their faces. Even Esther is smiling, he can see, even from a distance, wide enough to show teeth.

(cut because this is a long one)

Amina and Evan are on the horses in front of Ruby and Esther. Amina is waving her sword to the people, and it catches the sun, drawing every eye to the shine. Evan looks like she’d love to stand up on her horse and wave, but she contents herself with standing half up out of the stirrups.

Ruby sees him- at least, he thinks she does- and her grin widens. She nudges Esther and points his way. Her mouth is moving, but the noise of the crowd is near deafening, and she’s far away, so he can’t understand a thing. If he’d thought the noise for Harlan’s return was loud…

Cygnus unfreezes his feet and runs, which seems to be the cue for the rest of the citizens to bolt for their returning loved ones. He clasps hands quickly with Jes as she dismounts, and with a few words promises to pay her and the regiment all the attention in the world later, but she understands. Furthermore, she pushes him towards his true destination, screaming, “Go!” over the noise.

Cygnus pushes his way through the crowd, which parts the moment they realize who he is. Harlan reaches Esther’s horse just before Cygnus does, and Cygnus watches, laughing, the undignified look of shock spread across Esther’s face as she dismounts and Harlan catches her. The ire quickly melts into content, and she pulls him into a rough hug. She grunts something in his ear and rubs his back.

Cygnus is so distracted by them he doesn’t notice Ruby dismounting and sliding into his own arms. She smells like travel and horse and fresh air, and he doesn’t think anything can banish the light in her eyes, bright and happy. He wonders if this is how he looked to Harlan upon his return from the beach. Like nothing could ever touch him.

Her hands are even more calloused than before, and the haircut is choppy and imperfect, but she’s his perfect country girl. She kisses his cheek and laughs, “I missed you,” into his ear.

“So did I,” he says, finding his voice. “So much.” She pulls back to look at him, and her grin is infectious. He smiles. “You cut your hair.”

She laughs again. “I did. Do you like it?” She swishes her head, still hanging onto him. She’s warm, and the sun is scorching them both, but he can’t bring himself to mind in the slightest.

He does like Ruby’s haircut. It makes her look older, and paired with that smile, he thinks this is the best she’s ever looked. “I do.”

“I got this, too!” Ruby tugs free of him to rummage in the saddlebag of her horse, and pulls out a tightly wadded piece of fabric. She unwraps it and shows him. It’s a bag.

“There was a merchant family living near Oar’s Rest that offered to look after the city while we were gone. They’re technically the first inhabitants. They’ll keep it from getting vandalized, and stuff.” She shrugs. “They have a son who’s got sword training. Anyway, the mother was talented with weaving, and made me this as a thank for you for my…deeds.” She grins awkwardly. Cygnus swears she forgets sometimes who she is. She calls it who she was. “Isn’t it lovely?” She feigns checking for eavesdroppers before muttering, “I have a feeling it’s going to become Esther’s, though. It’s the perfect plant carrying size.”

Cygnus laughs. It’s a large bag, sturdy grey-green with thick straps and pink and purple threads woven halfway down. Ruby beams at it like it’s her child.

“How was the limmet game?” he asks.

She laughs. “That’s what you want to know about?”

More laughter drifts from the left. He turns his head to see Amina holding Evan bridal style, spinning her around in circles. Evan’s long hair flows in the wind, and she screams in laughter.

And then Amina notices him. She sets Evan down, the same expression on her face as she wears before going into battle. Determined and utterly pleased.

“Out of the way, woman.” He’s torn away from Ruby and wrapped in Amina’s arms faster than he can blink. Squeezed would be a more accurate word.

“Welcome home,” he says into her shoulder.

She lets him go and looks him over. “You would’ve done well to be working out there with us,” she says with a wink. “You’re all skin and bones, like always.”

Cygnus grins. He’s missed her tough humor.

“You’re wearing the cloak!” She makes a face. “In this heat?”

“I’ll wear your gift whenever I damn well please.” He can’t keep the smile off his face. “How was your summer?”

She makes a noncommittal expression. “Fun, if you like back breaking work in the sun. I don’t know what we would’ve done without magic. Thank grace you waited this long to build a city, hm?”

“Any problems?”

She shrugs. “A few. Some surviving locals didn’t want their territory built on, and they tried everything from taking our things to destroying our work to pretending to be ghosts to make us go away.”

Cygnus raises an eyebrow.

Amina continues, “I’d rather not ruin the good mood right now, so I’ll tell you the rest later, but just know it’s all resolved. There are many who are happy we’re building there and are eager to move in.”

Cygnus nods, relieved.

Evan hits him like a storm, forcing him to pick her up. She laughs as he spins her around. She’s tan, he realizes. It looks good on her. Now that he’s looking, Ruby is tan, too. It looks even better on her, solidifying the country girl look. She looks like she was born in a cornfield and would happily die in one.

Amina looks faintly red where she isn’t the same stark white. He chuckles, imagining her whole body inevitably burnt red. He’d bet his life she doesn’t tan well. Otherwise his commander looks perfectly put together as always, just a little ruffled and dusty from travel.

Not only is Evan tan, but she has a new tattoo on her wrist: a familiar ruby.

“I missed you!” Evan says as he sets her down. “We’ve got so much to tell you.”

“I look forward to hearing it all,” he says, linking arms with her. “You got a new tattoo, I see.”

“I got three,” Evan says with a devilish grin, turning around and lifting up the back of her shirt to show him the one on the small of her back, a little unicorn. The third is on her bicep, a bow pulled taut that largens when she flexes her muscle.

He shakes his head and smiles, wondering how her parents will react to that. Hell, how Harlan will react to that.

Ruby slaps him on the back one final time and wanders to the other side of the horses, searching for Harlan, who comes around with Esther. Cygnus lets go of Evan to pull Esther into a hug, but she beats him to it. She thumps him hard on the back with a grin. The summer must’ve changed something in her. He glances at Ruby, who shrugs and says, “We all got very close over the summer,” before taking Harlan into her arms. Esther rolls her eyes.

Ruby with short hair. Evan with three new tattoos. Esther grinning and hugging him. What has this summer become?

Arm-in-arm with Evan and Ruby, Cygnus begins walking them towards the palace. Evan is chattering about her excitement to be back home, suggesting that they take a plunge into the sea before it grows too cold to do so. Cygnus brings up the terrible foot traffic on the docks, not to mention the boats coming and going, and how would they get out? “Magic,” Evan replies, and Cygnus knows he won’t win this battle. It’s a battle he’s happy to lose. Harlan has a mildly terrified look on his face which Cygnus mocks. They’ll get him in the ocean yet.

Harlan and Esther and Amina lead the horses. They’ll be some of the last ones to the doors.

Jes must’ve been given the job of organizing everything, since Amina is lingering with them, though Cygnus can see her itching to go help. He notices Tobias waiting beside his mother in front of the palace, and watches Jes fall over herself to make introductions when she notices them. Cygnus grins, fully intending to stand back and watch that chaos ensue when their little party reaches home.

“We may have oodles of things to tell you,” Ruby says, not yet aware of the people ahead, “but I’m sure you do, too. What have you been up to while we’ve been gone?”

taglist: @sondials @a-place-of-babble @babblingadventures @erinbeatty @mischiefiswritten

lmk to be added/removed

#writeblr #fantasy writeblr #my writing #writing #writer #my fantasy wip #fantasy #excerpt from my writing #bean's excerpts #the eingard series #wip: tkoe

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trashyslashers · 6 years ago

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Masterlist

I will be adding to this as I go!

Requests involving multiple characters are grouped together, but solo requests with only one character are filed under the name of that character. Separated by slashers and DBD characters.

----- SLASHERS ------------------------

Jason, Bubba, and Freddy with a chubby s/o

Bubba and Michael with a petite s/o

Cuddling for Bubba and Jason

Jason, Michael, Thomas, and Freddy with a s/o who self harms

Jason and Thomas with a s/o who treats their dog like a child

Michael, Jason, and Thomas when their s/o attacks someone twice their size

Thomas, Jason, and Michael with an animalistic s/o

Drayton Sawyer headcanons

Bubba and Jason x cannibalistic s/o

Pet names for Jason, Michael, and Bubba

Bubba and Thomas x pregnant s/o

Thomas, Michael, and Jason being nursed back to health by their s/o after a fight

Bubba, Jason, and Michael x 2009 emo s/o

Bubba, Jason, and Michael with a s/o who collects snakes

Bubba and Jason when their s/o see’s their abusive ex

Michael and Brahms x sick /so

Michael and Jason x s/o who has painful period cramps

Michael and Bubba x s/o who’s sensitive to loud noises

Michael, Jason, and Brahms x jumpy s/o

Michael, Bubba, and Jason x normally mild-mannered s/o who’s incredibly angry

Michael, Jason, Bubba, and Freddy x s/o who speaks German

Michael, Jason, Bubba, and Freddy x s/o who was disowned by their family for being in a relationship with a murderer

General fluffy Michael and Bubba x s/o headcanons

Michael, Bubba, and Jason x usually calm s/o who can be violent when they hate someone

Brahms, Bubba, and Jason x tall, broad-framed s/o

Michael, Jason, and Bubba with a s/o that gets bad migraines

Thomas and Michael x s/o who’s an empath

Michael, Thomas Hewitt, and Todd when reader shaves and has smooth skin

Jason and Bubba x s/o who loves how big their hands are

Michael and Bubba x male reader headcanons (this one includes a DBD Killer as well!)

Michael, Max*, and Todd with a s/o that draws on themselves whenever upset (includes a DBD Killer)

Michael, Bubba, and Jason with a s/o that likes to draw on them

B&W Soulmate AU with Michael and Freddy | Pt II

Michael and Jason with a creepily cute s/o

Slashers getting cursed at by nine year olds on Fortnite

Michael and Jason x mechanic s/o

Bubba and Jason x vegetarian male s/o

Bubba, Michael, and Jason x s/o who’s addicted to hot Cheetos

Michael, Jason, Bubba, and Thomas under the influence of laughing gas

Michael, Bubba, and Brahms x male s/o who has albinism

----- Solo requests: ------------------------

• Michael Myers: (please note that some of these pertain to DBD Michael, and some Michael content can be found under the DBD section)

Michael with a s/o who self harms and struggles with depression

Michael with a s/o who was sexually assaulted

Angry Michael being calmed down by his s/o

Michael x s/o who has anger issues

Michael x reader who sneaks into his room at Smith’s Grove to visit him

Michael x s/o who has telekinesis

Michael x short/chubby s/o

Michael x tough s/o

Michael, Jason, Leatherface, and Freddy when their s/o dies

General older Michael x younger reader headcanons

More older Michael headcanons

Michael x traumatized s/o

Michael x short!s/o

(DBD) Michael x s/o who does well in trials but is unliked because of her relationship

Michael (DBD) x s/o who was training to become a psychiatrist/psychologist

A fight with Michael (Angst)

(2007) Michael x young nurse s/o

Michael, Jason, Bubba, and Freddy being forced to watch Disney films

Michael, Jason, Bubba, and Freddy when their s/o is almost killed

• Jason Voorhees:

Cute relationship headcanons with Jason

How Jason would shyly confess to the girl he liked

Jason attending a family dinner with his s/o

Jason x younger s/o

Jason x motherly reader

Jason murdering the abusive partner of reader

• Freddy Krueger: Freddy x s/o who likes to watch him kill

Freddy x s/o who died of natural causes and can stay in the Dreamworld

Freddy x s/o who knit him a new sweater

Burger Time With Freddy Krueger

Freddy roughhousing with this s/o

(Fluffy) Freddy x s/o headcanons

• Bubba Sawyer: Bubba Sawyer spending holidays with s/o

Bubba x s/o headcanons

Bubba x s/o who wants to see his workspace and watch him kill

Bubba when his s/o wants him to live with them

Bubba and accidentally injuring/killing his s/o

Bubba x s/o who simultaneously craves but is terrified of affection

Bubba x younger s/o who looks even younger than they are

General Bubba x male!reader headcanons

Bubba and his brothers after their s/o gets injured by a victim

• Thomas Hewitt: Thomas Hewitt headcanons

Thomas Hewitt x reader who “adopts” him as her older brother

Birthday headcanons!

• Brahms Heelshire:

Brahms x female!nanny who’s afraid of dolls

Brahms x s/o who’s sweet but doesn’t take any BS

Brahms realizing he needs to grow up if he wants his s/o to stay

Brahms with a s/o that sneaks him out of the house for a date

Brahms being reunited with reader, who was a childhood friend of his

Soulmate AU

Brahms x reader who can teleport

• Vincent Sinclar:

General Vincent Sinclair headcanons

Vincent Sinclar x s/o who loves to spoil him

• What We Do In The Shadows:

General Viago x reader headcanons

Viago x werewolf!s/o that got kicked out of their pack

• Hilliker brothers (Wrong Turn):

General headcanons

Protective Hilliker brothers

Hilliker brothers x sick s/o

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

DEAD BY DAYLIGHT:

----- Killers ------------------------

DBD killers with a s/o who likes to dance

DBD killers most to least likely to spare their s/o in a trial

DBD killers most to least likely to get scared by a toaster

DBD Onesie party

Michael, Bubba, Max (the Hillbilly), and Evan (the Trapper) when they’re forced to kill their s/o in trials

Jeffrey (the Clown), Philip (the Wraith), Anna (the Huntress), and Frank (the Legion) when the Entity kidnaps their s/o | Part II

Michael and Max (the Hillbilly) x s/o who’s sweet but blunt

Michael and Max (the Hillbilly) x s/o who always drinks with a straw

Michael and Max (the Hillbilly) being taught by s/o

Michael and Max (the Hillbilly) x impulsive s/o

General headcanons for Michael and Max (the Hillbilly)

Michael and Max (the Hillbilly) x s/o who’s mesmerized by the stars, moon, and ocean

Frank (the Legion), Evan (the Trapper), and Philip (the Wraith) x sleepy and cuddly s/o

Evan (the Trapper), Philip (the Wraith), and Max (the Hillbilly) with a s/o that loves to have their hair pet

Meg Thomas, Susie, Julie (the Legion), and Anna (the Huntress) x artistic fem s/o

Meg, Julie (the Legion), Amanda (the Pig), and Anna (the Huntress) walking in on their fem s/o singing

Michael and Max (the Hillbilly) x s/o who’s just a dumb bitch and doesn’t know shit

Michael and the Legion girls x s/o with piercings

Adiris (the Plague) and Herman (the Doctor) reacting to reader confessing their feelings

Herman (the Doctor), Evan (the Trapper), and Max (the Hillbilly) with a s/o who likes to read to them

Herman (the Doctor) and Philip (the Wraith) with a s/o who likes to make them small embroideries

Herman (the Doctor), Michael, and Bubba x male reader headcanons

Herman (the Doctor), Philip (the Wraith), and Max (the Hillbilly)’s thoughts on a s/o with tattoos

Dwight, Anna (the Huntress), and Frank (the Legion) x very affectionate and considerate reader

Frank (the Legion), Joey (the Legion), Evan (the Trapper), and Herman (the Doctor) when they trip and fall and their s/o finds it funny

Evan (the Trapper), Joey (the Legion), and Frank (the Legion) x male!sick!reader

Frank (the Legion), Max (the Hillbilly), Danny (the Ghost Face), and Anna (the Huntress) x male!adult!reader that’s into childish things

The Trapper, the Wraith, the Hillbilly, and the Nurse when not yet s/o reader 360′s them in a trial

Evan (the Trapper), Frank (the Legion), and Joey (the Legion) getting jealous after seeing their male s/o having fun/laughing with other male Survivors

Michael, the Legion, and Anna (the Huntress) x reader who grins & bears with pain easily

Herman (the Doctor), Sally (the Nurse), and Michael x reader who’s studying to become a therapist

Max (the Hillbilly) and Frank (the Legion) after accidentally hurting or killing their s/o (Angst)

Bubba, Max (the Hillbilly), Dwight, and Kate x hopeless romantic s/o

Max (the Hillbilly), Frank (the Legion), Danny (the Ghost Face), and Freddy with a male s/o that loves to show them off

Jealous Herman (the Doctor), Jeffrey (the Clown), Michael, and Amanda (the Pig) x male reader

Pranking Frank (the Legion) and Jeffrey (the Clown)

Danny (the Ghost Face) and Frank (the Legion) finally getting their hands on reader, who kept managing to escape them before

Herman (the Doctor), Danny (the Ghost Face), and Michael when their s/o is kidnapped by the Entity

Philip (the Wraith), Anna (the Huntress), and Adiris (the Plague) x pyromaniac s/o

Evan (the Trapper), Herman (the Doctor), Frank (the Legion), Joey (the Legion) finding out their male s/o is ticklish

Evan (the Trapper) x vegetarian male s/o

Herman (the Doctor) and Evan (the Trapper) x male s/o who breaks down from stress

Evan (the Trapper), Max (the Hillbilly), Anna (the Huntress), Danny (the Ghost Face), and Sally (the Nurse) x super cute s/o

----- Solo requests: ------------------------

• Evan MacMillan | The Trapper (DBD):

Evan MacMillan (The Trapper) x pregnant s/o

Pranking/messing with Evan MacMillan (The Trapper)

General Evan MacMillan x reader headcanons

Evan when fem survivor reader ends up at the MacMillan Estate outside of a trial

• Philip Ojomo | The Wraith (DBD):

(Slowburn) The Wraith x Survivor!reader

The Wraith x survivor!reader with the prompt Predatory

General the Wraith headcanons

• Max Thompson Jr. | The Hillbilly

The Hillbilly x s/o who loves to craft

Max (the Hillbilly) caring for barn cats

Max (the Hillbilly) x survivor reader that’s really good at running during trials

Cute Max x reader scenario

• Sally Smithson | The Nurse (DBD)

The Nurse x s/o who has awful anxiety

• Lisa Sherwood | The Hag (DBD)

The Hag x witch s/o

• Herman Carter | The Doctor (DBD):

The Doctor x s/o who can purr

Herman’s sadism

Fluffy the Doctor x reader headcanons

• Jeffrey Hawk | The Clown

Obsession (Prompt)

• Rin Yamaoka | The Spirit

General headcanons for Rin Yamaoka (The Spirit)

• The Legion (DBD):

General Legion headcanons

The Legion with a s/o who walks quietly

Joey (The Legion) headcanons

(Angst) Reader discovering Frank’s Bad Boy ™ weekend activities

(Angst) Frank x survivor!reader who’s his past girlfriend

(Platonic) The Legion x reader who seems like they’re put together but really they’re a wreck

Dating the Legion

• Adiris | The Plague

The Plague x s/o with a weak immune system

• Danny “Jed Olsen” Johnson | The Ghost Face

Random drabble

Tunnel Vision Part I | Part II

----- Survivors ------------------------

Quentin, Ace, Dwight, and Adam x charismatic and outgoing fem s/o

General Dwight Fairfield and Feng Min x reader headcanons (Fluff)

Jake Park and Quentin Smith when having to hide in a locker with their s/o

Dwight, Joey, Quentin, the Wraith x s/o who has night terrors

----- Solo requests: ----------------------

• Quentin Smith:

Fluffy Quentin Smith x reader headcanons

Quentin watching his s/o get killed by Freddy

Quentin x reader who Very Obviously has a crush on him

#Masterlist #slasher imagines #slasher x reader #slasher headcanons #dbd x reader #dead by daylight x reader

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thefeckisthis · 5 years ago

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manifestation and religion

disclaimer: im going to write my opinions on religion and if you consider yourself a believer - dont get offended as we all have different experiences and beliefs. also, i will be mentioning some stuff that most people find weird and unusual so please keep your mind open and leave your judgment somewhere else.

i wrote quite a bit and then my clumsy ass accidentally closed all tabs and everything was gone so this time ill write my intro in short version. so we all heard the saying ‘’be careful what you wish for it may come true’’. well it does come true and it has proved to me so many times, and before i get to the basics of law of attraction and manifestation I am going to say a bit of background how i got to it all.

as most of my country i was raised christian and had to practice the religion until i was 14/15 and got my holy confirmation so after that i was finally happy that i did not have to go to church if i did not want to. my family is not super religious, we do follow the holiday traditions and such as its normal in our country, but personally i dont give them much meaning. two of my family members are religious and i am grateful because in a place as my hometown our parents gave us free will when i came to religion (after our confirmation only :P) .

with all my experience and research i came to realise that christianity is most rotten, corrupted, vile and disgusting religion there is. there are exceptions that were better than rest, that is a small number unfortunately. i always considered myself agnostic, there is no defined god but there is something bigger than humankind and its still unknown. and you look at all the religions you will find that mostly all of them have same stories, people and facts, just bit amended to their culture. so to explain a bit, here is internet definition of agnosticism # Agnosticism is the view that the existence of God, of the divine or the supernatural is unknown or unknowable. Another definition provided is the view that "human reason is incapable of providing sufficient rational grounds to justify either the belief that God exists or the belief that God does not exist." and no, atheist is not the same. heres couple of pictures giving some insights

so now that we have that sorted out i would like to stress out that i never had anything against people who believe in god or dont believe in god, i have friends who are strong believers and friends who are atheist, its just called being adult and accepting people as they are. not enough people can do that.

so i did lots of research on religions and i do like polytheism ( Polytheism is the worship of or belief in multiple deities, which are usually assembled into a pantheon of gods and goddesses, along with their own religions and rituals) so i always had huge interest in roman and Greek deities, Egyptian as well and for a while was reading about Hinduism. of course i read a lot about all other older civilizations and most of them are based on polytheism.

during my exploring i came across a doctrine about paganism (havent fully finished all the books and here is a link if anyone would be interested in buying https://despot-infinitus.com/proizvod/paganizam-u-teoriji-i-praksi-doktrina-paganizma/) and i really liked the whole idea of it and i am still actively considering of becoming a white witch/wicca and reading those books inspired adding bit more on my pentagram tattoo, which is actually representing five elements so with added moons it represents triple goddess symbol.

many people ask me is that devils sign and am i a satanist, and that is ridiculous assumption based on only one symbol. and as a matter of fact i have been reading about satanism itself as well (of course i have) and its quite surprisingly peaceful religion and makes more sense than christianity does. to read more about their rules (which are way better than 10 commandments) click here - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/LaVeyan_Satanism#Basic_tenets

those who know me a bit better know that i love paranormal stuff and that i have strong connection with it and that caused a lot of paranormal experiences in my life (i bring all the ghosts to your yard aaayyy) so i recently also discovered demonology ( Demonology is the study of demons or beliefs about demons. They may be human, or nonhuman, separable souls, or discarnate spirits which have never inhabited a body.) and that you can actually learn how to practice it and cant lie that also interests me as well as you contact demons and entities and you work together to learn about world and history and you give them chance to peacefully experience the world (they literally posses you and that way they get to taste food and emotions etc)

yes this is quite informative post as well. and yes, you will all probably deem me insane after reading all this. and what i noticed is that all of them mentioned above work on the principle of cooperation, you have to give to receive. and i dont mean like you have to make blood sacrifices to get your wishes, i mean you have to put in some effort in it and show good intentions and most important of all - you have to show some respect.

so to finally get to the reason why you are all here. manifestation and law of attraction.

there were loads of instances in my life where i noticed small details that most of people wouldnt notice and after googling them one word kept coming up - universe. so automatically when you start look into that law of attraction and manifestation come up as well, they all g hand in hand like little happy family.

So law of attraction is something you all definitely had experience with. Basically its what you put out to the world is what you get. Simple change of mindset can change everything in your life. Have you noticed when you are happy and spreading happiness everything around you seems nicer, people are nicer to you, nice things happen and then when you are in bad mood everything is going bad.

Sounds familiar? That is law of attraction for you people. you’re releasing/giving good vibes to the atmosphere and people around you so universe makes sure to give good things back. notice that give and take relationship here? Dont be fooled tho, its not always as simple as it sounds. it is especially hard when you get into that deep hole of feeling bad a and depressed. it is really hard to change your train of thoughts and get yourself to think positive. universe wont award you for one good thought, it has to be series of it and you really need to feel them. you truly need to be in a good moment to get something back from universe.

say thank you to people serving you, ask people how are they, show that you care, pick up a paper from street and throw it in a bin, smile to everyone, pet a random animal on a street, anything counts. and dont do it just because you expect something huge from universe as most of the time universe will give back with good things as well, someone will help you, smeone will compliment you, you’ll get free cup of coffee, just random things like that. you will be surprised that good things will come to you in a moment you need. it also makes you more grateful for everything in your life and makes your everyday nicer and more positive.

then we come to manifestation.

thiiiiiis my people is bit more complicated than just law of attraction, but one without other does not go. there is no definition of the manifestation, but it is a fact that if you want something really bad universe will give it to you. i had universe manifest so many of my things that i wanted, just took a bit of time. maybe it has happened for you too. sit and think how many things did you wish for and you have them now? there are certainly more than few things that come to your mind. i can easily name at least 10 things that universe manifested for me without even realizing that was it.

there are many ways to manifest something and it is impossible for me to write everything about it in this post as it is bit more complicated than law of attraction, but i will try to outline some things and believe me when you google manifestation you will find loads of examples and you can read for days about it.

every single wish you want to manifest you can, it just requires some work and that is the hardest part. there are many ways of manifesting something, scribbling, drawing, visualizing, meditating and many more - you need to find something that works the best for you. you need to have clear vision of what you want (general idea wont work), you have to want it really strongly and you need to start working towards it, even little steps - remember when i said you have to give to receive, same with universe. it wont just drop it in your lap because you decided it would be beneficial for you.

and have in mind very important thing universe will always provide and it will give you what you deserve when you are ready for it.

so yes, it means it can take waaaay longer than you expect it, it may not be hours, days it may be years, it just means that you are not ready for it yet but that doesnt mean universe is not working on bringing it to you. all the work you put into it will definitely be worth it.

for example i fell in love in marketing in university and always wanted a job in that field. it did not get easy to me at all. i spent long five years applying for the jobs and either getting rejections or no answer. and believe me that could put me in such bad mood sometimes that i just wanted to give up on everything. add to that anxiety struggles and that makes it even harder. and as mentioned in the last year i worked on myself mentally, my anxiety has been on lower levels for a while and it does spike up now and then and it messes things up, but i’ve been happier mentally then i ever was in last 5 years and towards end of the last year more and more good things started to come my way and then i finally got that long awaited job.

i am still looking a proper way to thank universe for making it happen for me as that is also important thing for manifestation.

going to use myself as example - being a cheerleader, moving to another country, going to enrique iglesias concerts, visiting loch ness and Neuschwanstein Castle and many more were just big wishes at one point and so far they all came true and i couldnt be happier. it can be small things as well, once i tried to test it and i wanted to manifest a drink date. so i kept thinking how i will go for a drink with someone next week. and it happened, next week i went for a drink with a guy i just met, completely unexpectedly. i didnt specify anything else other than gooing for a drink at that was the only thing that happened.

once wished for more money (also nothing specific stupid me haha) and after two days i found €5 on the floor. not much but universe did provide what i wanted :D

as i’ve said, manifestation is more complicated than law attraction and requires strong mind and strong will, so not only that you get what you wish and work for - it makes you a better person as well! To end this i am going to leave couple of links you can visit and see more about them, or if you’re more adventurous just google manifestation and enjoy your journey :) https://medium.com/thrive-global/9-principles-of-conscious-manifestation-3d2df7a4a87

https://elysesantilli.com/what-is-manifestation/

https://blog.mindvalley.com/manifestation/

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCZNFXNnKOLdA5ZD7Sn2p5aQ/videos

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCvptCAXYmDZMOffniGRfomQ/videos

#new post #manifestation #law of attraction #universe #believe #follow #Followme #follow for follow #fun #religion #thoughts

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logansmoore-blog · 5 years ago

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PENN BADGLEY // have you seen LOGAN S. MOORE around town? We’re trying to make sure they’re still in town, especially with everything that’s been happening lately. HE is a 33 year old CIS MAN currently residing in Perfection Valley, but they’re originally from LAS VEGAS. they are best known for being the OLDER KIDS TEACHER, and i hear they’re pretty PATIENT/UNDERSTANDING yet also DISLOYAL at times; i hope they continue to survive.

tw: cheating

MEET LOGAN.

► GENERAL INFORMATION

FULL NAME: Logan S(ean). Moore

NICKNAME(S): N/A

AGE: Thirty-three

GENDER: Cis Man

PRONOUNS: He/Him

OCCUPATION: Older kids teacher (middle & high schoolers)

SEXUALITY: Heterosexual

LANGUAGES: English, Spanish

► APPEARANCE

FACE CLAIM: Penn Badgley (Mr. Fake Name)

HEIGHT: 5′9″

BUILD: Lean

DOMINANT HAND: Right

HAIR COLOR: Brown

EYE COLOR: Brown

DISTINGUISHING FEATURES: n/a

► BACKGROUND

HOMETOWN: Las Vegas, Nevada

CURRENT RESIDENCE: Perfection Valley, Nevada

PARENTS: Sean Moore & Susan Karen Moore

SIBLINGS: Cole Moore (older brother)

PETS: None

► ABOUT

Born and raised in the City of Sin, Logan grew up in a white collar family where he hadn’t wanted for nothing.

Education was his passion. It wasn’t just one specific subject that drew his attention, no, Logan loved multiple subjects all at once. Each year he would find another subject that drew him in. Not that there’s anything particularly interesting about the subject itself that drew him in but the manner in which the teacher can control the students’ interests through teaching and he enjoyed that power after realizing teachers were the magicians of the real world. The right one could completely bewitch you and have you believing in what was taught; the wrong one could sour the subject completely.

So he pursued it. Went to UNLV (University of Nevada in Las Vegas) and double majored in Secondary Education seeking out both BS and BA because he wished to know both the “art” and “science” of teaching (and is that asshole), to properly bewitch his students as his teachers had when he’d grown up.

Not long after graduation, he’d jumped into a teacher preparation program to be qualified to teach in Nevada as soon as humanly possible. While still in the middle of the program, he’d replied to a hiring ad about a Secondary Education Teacher in Perfection Valley. They’d invited him down for a weekend and a chat and agreed he’d be hired upon completion (and passing) of his program - which he did with flying colors.

It wasn’t too long after that Perfection Valley became home. He was doing something he greatly enjoyed in a town that could really, truly use a teacher that enjoyed it and gave learning life.

Originally residing in the Desert Inn, Logan now resides in a modern trailer purchased by his parents (retirees who were formerly an investment banker & lawyer) and older brother (a corporate lawyer) as a graduation/congratulatory gift on a plot of land just barely on the outskirts of town he’d bought with some of his savings. He’s extremely grateful no sharknados have blown it to bits yet.

tw for cheating. It wasn’t too long after all of the above that he’d come to meet the mother of his triplets, Brenda ( @brendasangulalik ). The situation with Brenda is rocky at best no thanks to his unfaithful, cheating, horny womanizing ways yet he’d do anything for their children. Things were, at some point, good for them. But the years building up to her pregnancy and shortly after the birth of their babies, the stress of the town’s ridiculous, and rather unsafe, weather - among other things - lead him to seek out stress relief in the form of a lay. Well, Brenda eventually split up and they both now have joint custody of the three angels.

More to come!

► THINGS DONE:

► HABITS:

► KNOWS HOW TO:

MEET THE MUN.

hey there, i’m kit. (almost) 31. est. any pronouns.

activity won’t be easy as i’m trying to get over this depression slump rn and force myself to play but i swear, i’m interested and have been beyond excited to join syfy for a long ass time.

i’ve got two super sweet kids that i’ll eventually share pics of ig because i always end up doing so even when i say i won’t be.

playing canons/skeletons have always been easier for me than playing my own ocs so thx natalie for so much of a guideline on what kind of person logan should be.

#syfy.intro #about.

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laudna · 6 years ago

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mornings like these (smut) | Adelita x Reader

Summary: Quiet mornings with Adelita will always be your favourite, especially the ones where you wake up before her. What better way to wake her then by kissing along her tattoo? (Warning: This is smut, it is soft and fluffy, but still smut! Please only read if you’re 18 or older!)

link to this fic on ao3 (I’d appreciate it if you would like it or leave a comment <3)

word count: 1026 words

It’s mornings like these that are your favourites, the ones when you awake before Adelita does. You roll over in her arms and take in the beauty that she is, the way her hair falls in front of her eyes, the way her eyes twitch ever so slightly as she sleeps, and the way her nose scrunches up right before she nuzzles herself further into the pillow. You quickly glance over to the alarm clock on the table beside you, the letters read a time that you think is way too early, but you know Adelita needs to be awake soon. You decide to wake her gently and lean in to trace her tattoo with your lips; by the time you’ve kissed your way up to the inking of the bird, she is awake.

Her eyes open and she smiles at you as you go to straddle her waist and resume tracing her tattoo with your mouth. Her neck cranes back so you can have more access while she arches her back. Adelita’s breath hitches ever so slightly as you ghost your lips over a particularly sensitive spot on her neck. It’s at this moment when she makes the executive decision to take control of the situation.

Adelita smiles and rolls over so that you’re below her, her eyes dip down to your lips before she presses a kiss to them. She lowers herself down to your collarbones, you can’t help but raise one of your hands to push a strand of her hair behind her ear as looks you in the eye and nips your collarbones. She smirks as you left out a soft gasp and beg her to do something; to do anything. She slowly pulls down the collar of the shirt you fell asleep in until she can place her lips onto your breasts. Adelita leaves one soft kiss in the valley between them before she takes one of your nipples between her teeth— pulling ever so slightly before releasing it and letting her tongue lave over the soft pebble, her other hand reaching to give your other breast some much-needed attention. Eventually, she switches which nipple she’s sucking on to give them equal attention.

When she has you whining just enough, she moves off of you and pulls you into a sitting position so she can take off your shirt and sleep shirt; removing her own clothing in the process. She has you resume your previous position of lying down and begins to place kisses trailing down your sternum, her hands ghosting over your sides with a featherlight touch; one that manages to draw a slight shiver out of you. Adelita quickly kisses over your belly button reaching out and tracing your panty line with her fingers.

At this point, you’ve reached out and begun running your hand through her hair, it’s messy from her slumber but silky smooth as ever. You can’t help but admire the girl in front of you as she stops her work to smile up at you; once more pressing a kiss to your lips. She doesn’t pull away like you think she might, no. She decides to deepen it and as she takes your bottom lip between her teeth, she runs a finger over your panties. You can feel her smile into the kiss as your hips buck into her hand. You pull away from her lips to let out a plea for her to do something other than just ghost her fingers across your underwear. So she does, she slips her hand into your panties. Her fingers place a firm but soft stroke around your clit before she dips a single finger into you, nearly chuckling at how wet you are.

She fingers you only for a moment before pulling her hand out of your panties, but not without a whine of protest from you. Adelita rolls her eyes before lowering herself down to your hips, leaving a small love bite on your pelvis; her way of making sure you remember how much she loves you before she takes the waistband of your panties between her teeth and draws them down. She runs her fingers across you and places a kiss on the same spot her fingers were just touching.

Sex with Adelita is normally like this; loving and soft. She makes sure you know she loves you by leaving kisses everywhere she can.

Adelita gently spreads your lips open with her fingers and lets her tongue wrap around your clit before sucking it into her mouth, alternating between sucking it and giving it small kitten licks.

You let out a small, “Luisa please,” and she decides you’ve had enough teasing. She lets one hand come up to rest on your hipbone while the other finds its way between your thighs. Adelita probes your entrance with her fingers before letting one sink into you, adding another once she believes you acclimated enough. She scissors her fingers and curls them to hit the spot inside you that makes your thighs shake, she attempts to stretch you enough to where she can add in one last finger.

It’s at this moment she pulls her face away from your heat to glance up at your face. She’s always loved the way your face contorts in pleasure as she works her magic on you, she thinks this is one of her favourite sights in the world. When you catch her eye and bite your lip she confirms that yes, this is definitely her favourite sight. Adelita continues her ministrations until she can feel your walls start to flutter, she lets her mouth go back to its work on your small bundle of nerves.

She knows you’re about to tumble over the edge as your fingers tug on her hair and your back arches off the bed, your lips open in a silent prayer that consists only of her name. She draws your mouth back to her own as she tells you to let go, she continues to move her fingers as you ride your high; only ceasing once you swat her hand away.

“Good morning, mi vida. Te quiero.”

tag list: @michaelariza @donnatroy @thegirlwhowritesfics

#adelita x reader #adelita smut #luisa espina imagine #adelita imagine #mayans mc smut #mayans smut #mayans imagine #mayans mc imagine #luisa espina x reader #luisa espina smut #**writing

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houseofvans · 6 years ago

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SKETCHY BEHAVIORS | Interview with VALERIE SAVARIE

Denver artist Valerie Savarie creates intricately carved book sculptures that she painstakingly maps out and cuts, forming her own unique narrative creation. Each of her unique sculptures can take her from 40 hours to over 100 hours to complete. Not only one thing, Valerie also runs a collective gallery, Valkarie Gallery in Colorado, where various artists in the community show and share work. We find out more about Valerie’s book sculpture process, what her favorite tome creation is, and the things that inspire her.

Take the leap below!

Photographs courtesy of the artist.

Introduce yourself Howdy! My name is Valerie Savarie and I create carved book sculptures. I live in the Mile High city of Denver, Co, sharing a house with two cats Meelo and Varuka and my ever loving and supportive husband Matt. As cats are insatiable creatures when it comes to food and attention (which can turn into a zero creativity day), I eventually relocated my studio to Lakewood where it is connected to the collective gallery I run (Valkarie). I believe in lots of vitamin C to keep me healthy and creating (coffee, carrots and chips). Random fact: most of my tattoos are beyond the legal drinking age.

What was your introduction to art like? I was fortunate that my parents got myself and my sisters into art as kids. During the summers instead of wasting our time in front of the TV, we were enrolled in art programs. The city where I grew up - Madison, WI – also had this (and still does to this day) awesome thing called the Art Cart that would find its way to various parks over the summer and have free art projects – my favorite was the plaster casting of our faces at the beach. My dad also took us to many galleries and lectures. I can remember being in third or fourth grade and attending a Georgia O’Keeffe exhibition.

How did that eventually lead you to creating your own works and specifically your book sculptures? Honestly, I have an older (not too much older) sister that was always the artist so I shied away from art for years. Sure, I was a professional doodler, yet I wanted to be my own person and struggled with the sibling rivalry a la Jan and Marcia for years. I turned to creative writing in high school and the first go around of college. Finally, I moved away, and moved away again, tried college a second time majoring in interior design and minoring in scenic design (secretly I wanted to be an architect) and ended up having a professor that had an MFA – Robert Work – who I am still friends with (god, it has been over 15 years since graduation). He reignited that artistic spark in me. I even applied to grad school for art and got rejected from every school I applied to yet I still made art.

A few years down the road I met my husband and he really pushed me to get my art out in public, which was frightening. I ended up joining a co-op where I experimented with various mediums and styles. I created some cube sculptures (bartered autocad drawings for them) and I was in love. 3D art took over my heart, unfortunately, I couldn’t afford to buy the cubes out right and my cabinet maker friend didn’t need any more drawings. So I sought out something that I could afford for material, something that was also easy to come by and easy to manipulate. A thrift store junky, I decided to test my hand on carving up books. That was just over 7 years ago.

What is the process for book creations? From start to finish, how long does the entire piece take? My pieces are formed by three different processes of creation: what it is, what I want it to be and it will be what it will be. What it is means that the story in the book inspires me. What I want it to be means that I have an idea that I need to find a book that fits the visual story I want to create, whereas it will be what it will be means I take a book with no idea in mind as to how it will turn out and intuitively start cutting.

I would say about 67% of the books I create fall into the what I want it to be category so that’s what I will describe. I will get an image stuck inside my head and think about it quite a bit before I will put pencil to paper, working out basic concepts in my head and then creating a very rudimentary sketch (mainly so I don’t forget the idea). I then head off to the stacks – a very unorganized collection – in search of a book whose story has some of the same elements as mine. This is a daunting task as I have no idea as to what the content of at least 97% of the books I house is.

Sadly the adage “you can’t judge a book by its cover” is all too accurate. Titles can be misleading, the content seems like a good match but the cover has illustrations that are in conflict with the vision, and heaven forbid I can’t find any information on the book on Google and then have to decide if I have the time to invest in reading a few chapters or should just keep looking elsewhere.

After hours and even days of searching, I find the match – the perfect companion to my vision. I leaf through most of the pages, book marking those passages, illustrations, lack of text or unique text layout for me to revisit as I cut layer by layer, page by page. Then a slightly more detailed sketch is created – and then comes the point of no return …

I draw the shape of the cut out on the cover and with book and blade in hand, the transformation begins. All cuts are done with a craft knife – yes, even the cover. It is cut by scoring multiple times and then stab and drag, stab and drag. Sure, there are easier ways to do this - the not so occasional accidental sacrifice of blood still doesn’t deter me - I prefer to use my hands, to be able to pack up to my art, take it anywhere I chose to create and not worry about access to electricity. With the cover hole cut, I take out my file and smooth the opening, refine the curves and lines. Then another sketch of how the piece will be laid out is drawn on the front leaf of the book. This can be especially handy to have in more complex designs where I use the image as a template or stencil when cutting the many layers.

From then on out, it is just a matter of cutting one to three pages at a time. The number of pages is determined by the quality of the paper and over all design. Admittedly, this can become tedious if the depth of the layer is greater than ¼” but it is also important for me NOT to rush through the cutting of pages stage as phrases and images easily hide from view when I first go through the book in search of the elements I want expose.

Accidents do happen – the occasional over cut of a section or completely cutting out a page I meant to keep. I am very rigid in my creative process – if the section has been completely cut through, I just walk away from it – even though it would be quite easy to simply glue that section to the page below. The story can develop plot twists during this time as the layers start taking on a different life and their shadows start telling a story of their own as I cut deeper and deeper.

This, the lengthiest part of the creation process, I mentally start to flesh out what the painted characters – or inhabitants – of the book sculpture will look like (I can easily spend over 40 hours of just cutting the pages and so have a lot of “free creative brain time”) . How will they interact in the environment, what will their facial expression be? I dare not start painting them until all pages that will be cut, are cut, as I want the character - be in human, animal or other worldly - to look as if they had grown up in the book sculpture and has called it home forever. The characters are painted with acryla gouache on sheets of mixed media paper or directly onto the book page. The latter is more of a spirit creature – a ghost that is still very much part of the life force of the book. These little paintings are then mounted to illustration board for rigidity and cut out (again by hand with a craft knife).

Once the book cutting is complete and the character painted, I move on to the last creative piece which ties the story together (literally) - the stitching. Each altered book piece has some thread or string (occasionally wire is substituted) added to help in the visual story telling. It can be very elaborate such as sewing branches and leaves onto the cover or something as simple as a few blades of grass. The drilling to create the needle holes in the cover is (again) done with a hand tool called a jeweler’s drill. This nifty device has interchangeable bits from the diameter of a hair to 7mm lead. I believe the longest recorder amount of time I have spent drilling/stitching a single piece is 15 hours.

Now it’s time to do all the boring stuff that makes the piece ready to hang. All the pages are bound together, I create a little wire coat hanger in which the piece can be hung and sew it onto the back of the book as well as stitch in the publication and rebirth years. Both covers are glued to the bound pages, clamped and by the next day, what was once an orphaned book, now rid of its shell, is a three dimensional sculpted piece of art!

And that is how my book sculptures are born.

How long? On average 40 hours a piece. A few take less time and I have spent over 100 hours on a piece more than once.

Where do the books come from? Are they from collecting or via donation? How are you inspired when creating these intricate piece? Are they inspired by the book or from an idea you jotted down? My books come fro various sources. Initially I would get them at thrift stores, the rule was that they had to be as old as me. I normally still stick to that rule unless it is a commission or a piece created for a specific themed show. More recently, I have had a lot of books donated to me – some because the thrift stores won’t take them any more and others because the former owners’ had cherished them and hoped that they could find new life in my hands. On rare occasions I do order from Ebay. I prefer the hunt, stalking down the perfect book, taking weeks and even months. Sometimes, I don’t have that luxury due to deadlines.

Normally I have a concept I want to develop, I look through my stacks (which numbers in the 100’s and shelved at random) hoping to find one that has a similar story line. Since I don’t have time to read each one, I go online and do research – reading the synopses – as well as skimming the books. This can be dangerous as sometimes the books I am sorting through pull me in and new inspiration is born from the written word.

I see my pieces as more of a collaboration between myself and the authors and illustrators. I use their art form as an inspiration stream and add my own twist (or chapter) to create the stories anew.

Is there a piece that was directly influenced by a memory or experience you’ve had or story you’ve heard? It is rare that I remember my dreams but a few years ago I awoke and remembered having a very strange dream about tiny cyclops octopuses and tea cups. Shortly there after I stumbled across a Reader’s Digest collection that contained 20,000 leagues Under the Sea and so I had to create the little cyclopes – sans teacups. I really want to revisit that dream in art form again – with the tea cups – as of yet, I haven’t come across any books that would fit.

What’s the perfect day at the studio like for you? What kinds of things would we find in your creative space?

A perfect day would start around 6pm. I prefer to work at night until the early hours of the morning. I would have a nice cup of endless coffee at hand, a bag of baby carrot and raw nuts available for snacking (separate bags) and some left over Indian food for later in the evening/morning. The original Twin Peaks is playing in the back ground (i pretty much have the dialogue memorized) and my shoes are off and slippers on.

Spread around me on the floor (I work sitting on the floor) is a brand new cutting mat that smells of childhood summer beach toys, an assortment of craft knifes with brand new blades (I rarely use new blades as I have learned to sharpen them) and a vintage book begging me to caress its pages, ogle its inner beauty and then skillfully and slowly start to transform its story from the 2D writing into a 3D world it never knew it could be!

Within my studio I have quite a nice collection of small art (besides my own of course). I use it for inspiration and feed off the remnants of creative energy that the artists left with each piece. There are books, LOTS of books that have no rhyme or reason to their shelving locations or book neighbors. I have quite a few orchids which may or may not be in bloom – all of which were gifts. I have a cool vintage love seat which normally is a place for art to lounge on along with the occasional visitor. A nice collection of coffee mugs – with at least half of them needing to be washed- and of course a coffee maker. I also have an old radio from probably the 30’s that I occasionally plug in and turn on – the sound is great but there aren’t that many am radio stations with strong enough signal that are worth listening to.

What’s one of your favorite creations you’ve made and why? I created a piece based on Pan’s Labyrinth. It was the first piece of fan art I had ever created.

I rarely actually watch movies or t.v. - I listen to them but my eyes and hands are busy creating art. I don’t like foreign films that have voice overs, there is just something unnerving about them.

So with Pan’s Labyrinth, it is something that I actually had to watch. It is a visual masterpiece – as is everything that Guillermo del Toro does.

Creating art based off of something that is already a magnificent piece of art is quite challenging. I didn’t want it to be obviously fan art it was important I make it my own. I ended up using a book in Spanish about the Spanish Civil war. I also used some techniques that were new to me – removing the decorative fabric only from the cover to create pattern, adding color and even adding the cover of a larger book as a backdrop. Oh yeah, and a drop of blood – my fingers tips are pretty callused from art making it took a little more effort than I liked to get that blood.

It was exciting to use new techniques and to push myself to be precise and exact – an actual labyrinth with tiny stairs down to the portal – and at the same time use my imagination to explore concepts that I could only see (movie) and not read and translate them into my own design.

What’s your main tool for making art? Is there a medium you’re wanting to try? A craft knife with an Excel blade – the brand REALLY makes a big difference. In a tie would be a good mat – still looking for the perfect one.

I took a class last year on wood block cutting and would really like to do more with that. I think it would work well with the book page scraps I collective (I have many many boxes of them) plus it is another substractive art techniquewhich makes sense in my brain.

Who are some artists that you’re inspired by and have influenced you throughout the years? Edward Gorey is my main influence. Partially because he was both a visual artist and a writer. I love how dark his images are and the same time laced with humor. His black and white color palette obviously works for me as well. There is a simplicity to it and at the same time it is so masterfully done that the work appears much more expansive than it already is.

As far as artists that are alive and kicking today, my local biggest influences are Aria Fawn and Nicole Grosjean. They are completely different in everything they do and at the same time such masters of detail and story telling.

Aria creates surreal and fantastic worlds in watercolor, largely inspired by the beautiful and violent balance of nature and wild things and the cycle of life, death and rebirth. There is such organic and natural beauty in her style, a freeness that I strive to incorporate into my rigid calculated creation process. I probably own more of Aria’s art than anyone else's - I have multiple pieces by her in my studio and home. She is constantly with me, always inspiring, motivating and energizing my creative spirit.

Nicole on the other hand, creates tiny worlds from hand cut, hand painted paper – which she considers three dimensional illustration. Sometimes there are over a thousand individually cut and painted pieces of paper in one work of art. She is so precise, so CLEAN I have no idea how she does it. I have a very tiny praying mantis in a watch piece from her as well as a larger dragon that I got for my husband as a gift to cover all holidays for several years.

My my top three non locals are Jolene Lai, Jason Limon and Kristen Egan. They all are completely different from one another – Kristen creates magical creatures from gourds. I am dying to get my hands on one as 3D art really needs to be experienced in person to feel the texture, see how the light and shadow changes the mood of the piece. She makes it look so seamless – at first glance I thought the were ceramic.

When I first saw Jason’s work I thought it was the most amazing paper cut art I had ever seen, then I realized it was a painting! His playfulness along with social commentary paired with his insane talent to place highlights and shadows it something I strive for. I feel that my painted characters could be so much more influential – a better actor one could say – in the dioramas I create if they appeared more three dimensional. I am lucky to own one small original that lives with me in my studio.

And then there is Jolene. I would consider her one of the greatest artists of all time. There is so much emotion, energy, story telling in her paintings. Her use of color (and again light and shadow) makes her works hyper realistic to me – I feel sucked in and transformed as an active participant in her paintings. I own two beautiful graphite pieces of hers which live at my house.

What’s your experience been like with the art scene in your area? How is the artist community? I LOVE the art scene in Denver. We are a “new” city that still has not lost its small town connectivity in the arts. Artists support other artists, galleries support other galleries. It is not an us vs them mentality here and I really think it will stay that way.

I got my start in a traditional co-op gallery that sadly just closed this year after being open for nearly 30 years.

They rejected me the first time around and told me what to change for the next application round and I got in that second time.

Even at Valkarie we host a drop in creative night every Thursday – going on almost five years. All levels of artists come, from doodlers to professionals, painters to jewelry makers. We openly give feedback on what we re working on and share calls for art and discuss booth set ups for conventions – what works and what doesn’t.

How do you stay inspired on those days when you’re feeling uninspired? To be honest, it has been years since I felt uninspired. I think because of the super supportive art community I always have someone to run ideas off of. Also, the books themselves are full of written and visual inspiration, an unending supply of it. And all that awesome art I collect, for me it’s not a lack of inspiration it’s more a lack of what I want to focus on – too many bees buzzing with ideas in my brain.

When you’re not working in the studio, what are you doing? What do you enjoy? Truth be told, 83% of my waking time revolves around art. Besides spending time with my own art and running Valkarie Gallery, there isn’t much time for anything else.

In that 17%, I enjoy making pies from scratch with my husband, getting out into the mountains to escape all the compartmentalizing of city life and being servant to the cats – if they had their way, I wouldn’t get any art done at all.

If I ever find “free” time again I would love to get back into creative writing, pick up the violin again and go on more bike rides. Nothing sporty, just peddling around town with no destination in mind.

What advice would you give someone who is thinking of becoming an artist? Start young – before you get tied down with a house, spouse or kids. It is much easier to get by on less while you are young.

Don’t feel like you have to get a degree in art (I know I will catch flack for this one). Do take art classes, marketing classes, get involved in with meet up art groups and build community. Some of the most successful artists I know have no formal art degree. Their talent, passion and drive have given them much success without a pile of debt and they tend to be the most active in artist groups.

Know that rejection is 90% of the game and don’t get discouraged. It doesn’t mean you aren’t good at what you do, it can mean that you weren’t what they were looking for. If you are really passionate, you will always create no matter what others say about your art.

Develop a style that is unique to you. This can be the most difficult especially with everything being available to anyone with a smartphone, computer or tablet. I think it is one of the reasons I keep creating the book sculptures and expanding what they are.

What are your FAVORITE Vans? It really depends on the weather and where I am headed. If it is snowy or raining and am headed to the studio, slip-ons are best, so I can easily take them off and on multiple times a day (sitting on wet shoes is a mistake only made once). In good weather, any Vans are comfortable enough to wear evening while squatting on the floor creating art.

Finally, can you tell us about any exciting things you’ve got coming up? This year I have had my art in five different states and at the beginning of December I will be showing in my sixth. I will have a booth at the Recycled Art Market in Santa Fe, NM. This will be the first time showing my art there and think I will come back with some pretty exciting new ideas on how to incorporate other repurposed items into my books and maybe even find some new resources for creating my sculptures.

I also have two commission coming up that I am really excited to get going on. Will be doing A Clockwork Orange piece and The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe(for two different clients). It has been decades since I read either but I think these two both warrant a reread before I start them (I really do my best to avoid watching movies of books for inspiration).

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#Art #Vans #Vans Art #Vans Girls #Valerie Savarie #book #sculpture #sketchy behaviors #interviews #interview

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sweettoothshipperrotg · 6 years ago

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FrostedNature- Soulmate AU or College AU? Or whichever one you're feeling most inspired by really, I just need some FrostedNature fluff :))))

Hi! Sorry it took longer than expected, but I went to see Captain Marvel and got caught up with other stuff. ^^;To make up for it I made it a bit longer and extra fluffier

There was also this anonymous ask on my inbox: “FrostedNature- Soulmate or College AU? Preferably something with fluff :)”, so I decided to combine them. Hope you don’t mind.

(Soulmate au where when you write something on your skin with pen/marker/whatever the hell you want, it will show up on your soul mate’s skin as well)

Here is some College Soul Mate Au for y’all :D

‘What’sthe answer for question 32?’

Therushed and messy handwriting that appeared in her forearm shouldn’t havesurprised her. She and Jack had been together for almost two years now.

But,really? Right now?

*****

Shehad been waiting her whole life to meet the owner of said handwriting, dreamingas many others of a sweet someone that the fates had decided to pair her with.

Emilymainly owed that to her mother. When she was a little girl she loved to hearthe story of the first time Kozmotis Pitchiner’s handwriting had etched ontoher skin; long delicate traces, as if he carefully trying to make a good firstimpression through his caligraphy.

Soit had been a surprise when Emily reached the age when she could meet her soulmate and nothing had happened for an entire year. At eighteen was when yoursoul mate could reach out to communicate.

Theyear of radio silence had been a little disheartening in the beginning, but herlife continued onwards and her college life had kept her busy enough. Shedidn’t write to her soul mate either. It wasn’t customary for girls to be onesto break the ice in this strange soul mate texting, but it wasn’t somethingthat had ever deterred her.

Shehonest to god had no idea what to say.

Shewas away from her home, knew no one, and felt like she had been pushed into adeep pool without knowing how to swim. The rhythm marked by these new settingshad her under complete uncertainty and was frankly overwhelming.

Shefelt like a mess and wasn’t confident enough to meet her soul mate just yet.

Solife had moved on and so had she. Slowly, she had adapted to her new situationand carved a small niche for her to build her life.

Imagineher surprise when on a day when she felt like crap – it was the anniversary ofher mother’s death, and she had decided to skip class and cry up a stormbecause she just felt like it –, her soul mate had decided to surprise her.

Shehad been sitting by the window sill, her body clad in pajamas and wrapped inblankets, and drinking a huge cup of cocoa with an amount of marshmallows andcinnamon that could only been described by any outsider as over indulging (asif she cared).

Emilywas almost certain that she had at least killed half a rainforest with theamount of tissues she had gone through, judging by how red and puffy her eyesand nose felt.

That’swhen the itching on her arm started. The foreign sensation wasn’t unpleasant,almost like the kind warmth that invades you when enjoying a nice book or whenfinding out that you still have a few more hours to sleep and don’t have toleave your bed.

Herforearm tickled a little and when she pulled back the sleeve of her pajama herbreath go stuck in her throat.

Gentleand soft strokes of ink started to appear all across her skin, spreading andtwisting into elaborate shapes.

However,the ink never turned into words but morphed into images of intertwined petals,stems and leaves.

Turnsout her soul mate was quite an artist.

Theywere drawing her flowers…her favorite flowers: Snowdrops, heathers, floribundaroses and freesias.

Tearsswelled in her eyes.

Soulmates felt more than saw theirsignificant other, inklings and sensations on the back of their brains ofemotions the other was feelings or things that they liked.

Despitethat she had never seen her soul mate, she knew things about them. Littleflashes and sensations that budded inside her but recognized weren’t her own.

Hersoul mate liked the cold. A deep feeling of happiness was linked to the idea offresh fallen snow. They also had quite the fixation on peppermint coffee,judging by the wave of satisfaction that invaded her and the ghost taste of thebeverage at the back of her tongue.

Theflowers that appeared on her forearm were to tell her that they were sorry thatshe felt sad and their wish for her to feel better. That she was not alone.

Asmile bloomed on her lips as she spent the rest of the day admiring thedesigned etched onto her skin, tracing it with her finger to appease that sideof her brain that kept on telling her that she was dreaming.

Sheeven took a few pictures of it. Although the markings were not permanent andwould fade eventually, a lot of people opted to tattoo the first phrase thatappeared as a memento of their first interaction – which was all fine and dandybut needles freaked Emily out.

Twomonths flew by before meeting her intended one.

To her delight, her soul mate continued todraw things. Turns out they were quite the artist.

Whenit happened, she was walking back from a class to her dorm, smiling at thebeautiful silhouette of a rabbit. It was drawn in such a way that it almostlooked that it would actually start moving and skipping across her arm. Whenshe got home she would add a new picture for her collection.

Soenraptured she was at how the traces stretched on her skin that she paid noattention to the world around her; her trance only broken when she foundherself stumbling backwards onto the ground and landing on her butt, her thingsscattering everywhere.

Alanky young man was also on the ground in front of her, a fellow victim oftheir collision.

“I’mso sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going!” He profusely apologized whilegetting up and offering his hand to help her get up.

Shecouldn’t hold back a tiny gasp.

Hisforearm sported a very delicate and detailed drawing of a rabbit in the sameplace as hers. The drawing now sported a disjointed line that the marker hadleft across the image due to them bumping onto each other.

Emily’seyes quickly scanned the boy’s face, registering each and every detail. Hiseyes were now focused on her arm, the drawing now matching his, even to theincongruent line that had been added in their little fender-bender.

Theireyes met, a smile spreading across the other’s face.

*****

Jackhad been surprised to find Emily by mere coincidence.

Hehad not tried to reach for her when he turned 18 and not after a whole year.

Hislife had turned upside down when his mother had become quite sick and he had tostay behind to help her and his sister out during a long and arduous recoveryprocess.

Theresponsibility of taking care of their house and their financial well being hadfallen on his shoulders, and had it not been for the support of his godfatherand family friends it would have certainly crushed him.

Northhad pulled enough strings for his college attendance to go from full time toonline and juggled around his papers and other homework into a more manageableschedule.

Sandywas always available to cover for him if he couldn’t make it to the hospitalwhen Jack was swamped with work at the local ice-skating rink or his homework.

Bunnyand Tooth were glad of looking after his little sister when he couldn’t. It wasalso a plus that they always brought food to his house or refused to chargethem whenever the siblings ate at the couple’s bakery.

Therehad been so much on his plate that finding his soul mate had been placed on theback burner. He had more urgent matters to focus on.

Ithad been hard, taxing every ounce of his patience, strength and spirit. He feltway older that he looked and he had come this close to giving up. But despiteeverything, he had managed to keep them afloat and pass his first year ofcollege.

Jackhad been rather apprehensive to leave his mother and Emma to finally attendcollege, but his friends at home had assured him that they would take care ofthe pair and that he should walk towards his future without feeling guilty.

Nowhe was at college full time and idea of having enough stability around himbrought back the idea of his forgotten soul mate.

Likethe rest of the world, he had learned details about his soul mate.

Thefirst impression came to him in the middle of the night while he was exiled inhis hometown trying to prepare a decent essay on how the influence of ancientart styles had evolved through the passing of time– he almost felt like he hadimagined that one due to the lack of sleep.

Thelingering smell of a floral perfume helped him deduce that his soul mate was agirl. It almost felt like it clung to his skin when in fact he knew very wellit was a sensation his brain was picking up.

Jasmineand coconut.

Judgingby how frequently she used it, it was her favorite.

Thenhe started smelling flowers. The sensation of soft petals and the fact that hedidn’t experienced them as much as the perfume lead him to believe these wereflowers that she liked.

Italso seemed that his soul mate was quite into baked goods. Out of nowhere, hewould find himself craving for scones, chocolate and pomegranate cupcakes,lemon cookies…

Hehad never tried half of the things he now felt an intense desire to eat. Itclearly had to be her influence.

Emmaand Tooth had teased him about his soul mate having an excellent taste when hearrived from his late shift with a box full of the aforementioned cupcakes(courtesy of Bunnymund at Jack’s request).

Afterhe had managed to ease himself into the whirlwind that was college, he had beenmore tempted to write to the girl that had slowly inserted her presence intohis life.

Hewas battling with the idea of what to even say when sadness struck him like atidal wave.

Itgave him an unpleasant sensation at the pit of his stomach and the need to cryalmost overwhelmed him.

Hewas entirely sure that this feeling belonged to someone else. Her emotions hadnever been so strong.

Aftereasing his breath and heartbeat into a normal pace, he sat there dumbfoundedwith his brain scrambling to analyze what was going on.

Hersadness was almost an echo of how he felt when he heard the doctor say his momwas gravely ill, when he felt the weight of the world almost crushing him down.It felt an awful lot like being drowned.

Hewanted, no, needed to make her feelbetter.

Beforehe even knew what he was doing he was grabbing one of his best and finestmarkers he had and drawing onto his skin.

Pushingdown the bout of emotions, he focused on carefully drawing the flowers thatalways seemed to cheer her up. He knew which ones they were. He had spent everyopportunity he had at flower shops trying to discern which ones matched theones that came to him. A vague shape or a tinge of fragrance had been his onlyclues and it had taken him a while to find them, but he had.

Ashe continued to spread the flowers onto their shared canvas, the sadness slowlywas dulled and eventually overcame by a sensation of warmth, happiness, andgratitude.

Bythe time he was done, a pleasant feeling of pride took over him. Not only washe proud of how beautiful it had turned out – he was pursuing a bachelor’sdegree in Art, after all -, but also of how happy it had made her.

Hesensed a ghost touch across his forearm and he closed his eyes, relishing andlingering on her contact while she traced her fingers across the petals andstems of the ink flowers.

Thisevent only served as incentive to keep on drawing. He would always have histool at the ready for whenever the impulse to draw something that may make herday easier struck. Although the desire to get to meet her and speak to her hadincreased tenth fold, he was enjoying their form of communication so much thathe didn’t want to stop. ‘Just a little longer’, he would say to himself.

Itwas an understatement to say that his heart almost jumped out of his chest whenhe saws the rabbit on the forearm of the cute girl he just bumped into.

Andthe rest, as they say, is history.

Theysay you feel complete when you find your soul mate. He had never been a fan ofthe concept, the idea that you feel incomplete and that you’re not truly worthyuntil you meet your other half sounding completely ridiculous to him.

Butnow he had to admit if life had given him a chance to meet Emily sooner, hewould have taken it without hesitation.

Itwasn’t that she made him complete. He had a life before her and it didn’tchange when he met her. But somehow, everything with her feels like more.

Beingwith her gave a particular shine to things: his hobbies, his surroundings. Itfelt more special whenever he got to hold her hand or see her smile.

Ithad been even better when they found out they were pursuing the same degree,and found it even funnier that they had never acknowledged the other’s presenceamong their classmates.

Whichnow brought them to the current situation…

*****

‘Howcan you not know? We studied this for weeks!’

‘Yeah,well we also made out in between said study. I might have forgotten the finerdetails’

Jacksmiled while imagining her blushing at the memory of said heated make outsessions. He didn’t have to wait too much for her answer, though.

‘You’rean idiot and I’m punching you once we’re out. Do you realize how busted we’reif the catch us?’

‘Maybebut think of what a bummer it would be if I couldn’t show up with you to myhouse on Christmas break.’

Afew minutes go by before she deigned to answer back.

‘Theanswer is B.’

Hesuppressed a smile in order to not bring attention to him. God, he loved her somuch.

Hefinished the remaining questions in record time and, after a quick revision ofhis answers, he handed the test to the teacher.

Onlywhen he was installed at a bench on the hallway to wait for Emily to be donewith the test, he dared to pull back his sleeve.

‘Andyou better be buying me a nice dinner after this’

Hechuckled. God, he loved her so much.

‘Asyou wish, princess.’

*****

There! Hope you enjoyed it and don’t hesitate to send more requests. It helps me flex my writer muscless ;)

#frosted nature #jackfrostxemilyjanepitchiner #Jack Frost #emily jane pitchiner #rise of the guardians #ROTG

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steve0discusses · 6 years ago

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Yugioh S2 Ep 36 Part 2: Pegasus Lives Every Artist’s Worst Reocurring Nightmare

Normally I don’t do more than two posts on a weekend but considering the last post was just overflow on color theory and sort of a mini post (which I was pleasantly surprised so many people liked, thanks for the kind comments on that random color theory aside), and also considering that I try not to do work on the weekend and I’m just kinda bored, here’s the second part of Ep 36.

Lets do a series recap shall we?

-Yugi Muto is three people (this is including a chunk of Bakura which just...lives there but doesn’t do anything)

-Odion is pretending to be Marik

-Marik is pretending to be Namu

-Tea is possessed by Bakura’s ghost

-Ryou Bakura is no longer possessed, but got hella shanked and passed out on Kaiba’s blimp, so we don’t know yet if he was actually British or if that was just a ghost thing.

-Serenity is Joey’s Sister and she Actually Truly Exists although I have kept close track and no one has yet to tell Kaiba who’s sister she is.

-Duke Devlin is just permanently here now, taking the place of Tea Gardner for “Character the writers have no freakin idea what to do with”

-Grandpa passed out a few episodes ago but I think the show forgot.

-Ishizu is here and is hiding from Marik for her dear life despite the fact she still thinks he’s a good boy.

-Shadi showed up to save Tristan and Duke although Shadi has never spoken a word to either of them and has no idea who they are at all.

There we go. A cliff notes-version all in one place. It’s a lot to remember.

Now we’re ready for another round of exciting duel prep.

That’s right, Shadi’s here, and he’s ready to dump a lot of plot on us. Which is why I felt like it would be nice to get a summary up to now because now we’re going to get even more nonsense we have to remember in this kid’s show that I had no idea would be this complicated when I started capping it.

(read more under the cut)

Can we talk about the knot Shadi is using here on that Ankh?

What is that?

OK, I just wanted everyone to look at that and then just...wonder with me,

Anyway, if you were looking for some explanation this episode, this is not that episode, because Shadi is here, and he just...never feels like fully explaining anything. He only ever feels like adding more and more to our bucket of Lore like it’s the 5th book of Harry Potter.

That’s right, this episode is a return to Pegasus, who I do miss. I mean Marik is fine, all in all, but I do miss how Pegasus knew what he was actually doing. I kinda miss my villain who was also a functioning adult.

Anyway, while Pegasus was searching the dunes of Egypt for Egyptian art to make OC’s of and add to his collection, Shadi and he had a very awkward reunion. Bear in mind these two haven’t spoken since Shadi fused Pegasus’ face with a haunted table weight.

And like, here’s the thing about Pegasus--he has the most reason of anyone on this show to not trust Shadi. Yet, now he’s going to follow Shadi into a hole. Literally follow Shadi into a dark and scary hole where no one would find his body.

Thing I wasn’t expecting from this show: Marik’s family is mole people????

OK…

I mean...I guess we’ll just gloss over that.

I mean...I guess I’ve never really thought about it but like...yeah they have to take care of a tomb and the tomb is underground so they just...hang out down here most of the time. Guess that explains how Marik ended up kind of albino-blonde.

Anyway, it’s here that we see a familiar relief sculpture—Apparently Ishizu just excavated her own sacred tomb and was like “lets ship this to Japan to screw with Seto Kaiba.” Not like I blame her, Seto is very easy to screw with.

But here she is being like “I’m this incredible Egyptologist give me your money!” when all she did was loot herself. Well...loot the Pharaoh, I guess, but he’s dead so wtv.

And so, after running around an ancient tomb collecting curses like fleas, he boards a business class, awkwardly shares an armrest with his photographer who equally refuses to give up the armrest (like what the hell is this armrest situation?) and has to endure our colorist’s favorite shade of chartreuse.

Purple/chartreuse is a pretty solid color combo, not gonna lie, but it is the last thing I ever want to see in a plane.

Also, Croquet is back. I guess this was before Pegasus bought an island, and it’s this episode we start to see why he might have wanted to flee the States.

Sometimes I forget this show is based on a horror anime, and this was an episode that brought us back to basics. Like, this is something I would absolutely expect to happen in Season Zero.

I cannot believe that this children’s show had a darkroom murder scene. The audacity. And not just a darkroom murder we also get this type of murder shortly after,

How do you go from the darkroom to this!?

The older I get, the more I would gladly welcome a Huge Sky Dragon over the actual drama I have to deal with on the reg. Please, please let me put Huge Sky Dragon on the ballot. We will let him have Salesforce Tower, he clearly comes with electricity and rain clouds and California desperately needs both those things.

Downside to Huge Sky Dragon unfortunately, is that he kills you.

So, in the classic horror protagonist archetype, Pegasus puts on his favorite shades of beige, he goes into an isolated room where no one can save him, and he reaches for that good ol hubris. Since, in his mind, he has a millennium eye, he’s the all powerful Pegasus, what could hurt him?

You gotta love that he’s such a purist that he paints an itty bitty card on a 6000% bigger canvas. Love that classic illustration nod right there. (and not gonna lie, I would kill for Pegasus’ studio. Damn. Look at it.)

Also look at this in the next cap! He can paint something that’s not a monster or his dead wife--is that a completely normal still life of some random purple flowers back there behind him? What’s he doing painting those??? He’s off killing 1 or 2 people a day in his human sacrifice chamber why’s he painting lilies in pots like everyone’s Mom during Wine ‘n Paint night?

Dude, does Pegasus go to Wine ‘n Paint night? I mean he would, right? Like he would be the first there with a huge ass bottle of wine/juice and be like “I am ready to sip, paint, and gossip about everybody’s husband.” Yo, he’d be killer at Wine ‘n Paint night. Like, I would never be Pegasus’ friend but I would absolutely paint some dumbass flowers in the same room as him as he gets tipsy on margaritas and starts going off about the Great British Bake Off.

And, much like I do when I finish most of my art at 2 AM, he passes out directly after and has anxiety laden dreams about what he just painted for the rest of the evening.

So lets get this straight, if you reproduce this image in any way, let it be traditional, digital, camera, or whatever—you will arouse the God Card ghosts and be straight up The Ring murdered. Unless, you tattoo it to a person’s back, then apparently you’re cool. Also, what the hell was Ishizu doing bringing this thing to a museum? Like yeah it’s in a restricted section but they had like no security on those doors so it’s like, girl—anyone who takes a selfie here will be dead. What else are museums for except avenues for selfies? Way to curate a museum, Ishizu. You had one job.

Also does that mean that if Marik photobombs people without his shirt on that they super die? That kinda sucks a lot, no wonder he wants to get rid of Pharaoh. Marik just wants to go to the beach without having to wear a hoodie and getting a weird tan.

Oi, hashtag relatable, amiright?

Anyway, Pegasus realizes he can’t post this art on main, so he decides to give it to Ishizu to bury it for him. Essentially, he put on his brother’s tumblr because he’s trying to be a professional here but like, who are we joking, the guy draws kids art for dollars. His friends, much like my friends, are full aware of what our sketchbook looks like.

After hearing this weird story, Pharaoh decides to take over and give some closing remarks.

Yugi got TWO huge bottles of mystery purple moisturizer??? Maybe one is just full of hair gel.

Man, Seto had him double covered, he knew--he knew Yugi was nuts for products.

I wonder if it’s full of LA Looks.

I appreciated that Pharaoh might have a physical body but he still enjoys spooking people like a ghost should.

Well, I mean.

So many questions here, but I assume we’re going to learn more about it later? Like why the hell Marik is...in a tomb? As a baby? With a...flower wreath?

What even is this show. Don’t put babies in tombs!

I don’t even know why Shadi even bothered showing up here. Like Ishizu already knows “it’s happening,” she has a future necklace.

Did Shadi show up to every single person on in this ship, Roland and Kaiba included, before actually going to the one place he needed to go?

Man. Phallic necklace. Did they not know about goatse in the early 00’s? Please don’t look that up if you don’t know what it is. I just.

Phallic necklace, please. You’re killing me.

Anyway, Shadi sees a chance to make a change and fix some things with the one person on this ship who desperately needs fixing, and while he’ll save Tristan and Duke and tell Yugi all about his history and etc—actually confronting Bakura? No thanks. Shadi will stay in his safe keyblade power place where no one can see or hear him, not even Bakura.

Not sure why any of the doctors haven’t picked up on Tea being weird as hell yet, but like...compared to the Kaibas and everyone else, I guess possessed Tea is the most normal person on this flying boat.

But that’s all for now, next week we see if they actually start dueling or if instead, even more people from S1 show up on this boat.

If you just got here, we’re like over halfway through S2, so here’s a link to read everything in chrono order from S1 Ep1, have fun.

#Yugioh #Yugioh recap #photo recap #S2 Ep36 #yugi muto #joey wheeler #Maxamillion Pegasus #Shadi #Croquet #Bakura #Tea Gardner #Ishizu #Pegasus really effed everything up when he majored in art huh

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bufanzi · 7 years ago

Text

QIN COMPLIATION

( left to right: bu fan, yue yue, xiao yu, ling chao, mu ziyang, bowen)

Yue yue

his real name is yue minghui 岳明辉 !! (92-liner)

nicknames include 老岳 (lao yue; old yue) & 岳叔 (yue shu; uncle yue) & 中年岳 (middle-aged yue) . PLS LET YUE YUE LIVE.

used the name 岳岳 as a stage name bc of the way it sounds & its easier for people to remember ; PINKRAY

he went by the name joey yue while studying overseas lmao

有背景有文化的团长（ A leader with sophiscated background and culture )

Cold city boy from beijing

Engineering student!!! from Nanjing University of Aeronautics & did masters in glasgow uni!!!!!! V v v smart!!!

Great english, British accent sorta ( listen to him speak x x )

HAS A CUTE FANG TOOTH

Will trade fatty meat for lean meat if u ask

TATTOOS (I THINK THERE’S A WOLF ONE, THE ONE W AN ANCHOR+OCTOPUS not sure though :c not enough HD pics to verify ;;)

Basketballlll

Wants to collab w eminem one day

Looks up to eminem, dr dre & ice cube

STEALS MU ZIYANG’S CLOTHES VERY OFTEN (there was this vid once when yue yue was choosing btwn 5 outfits and mu ziyang was like “can u at least put one of ur own outfits in the 5”)

Voted as naggy lmao (was asked by mu ziyang whether 1 ton of iron or 1 ton of cotton is heavier, and he talked to ziyang about it for 2 hrs about the question isn’t logical cause the experiment must be held in the same conditions, the air etc etc)

His hair is a birds nest & cannot be maintained + he uses the company’s hair dryer (which actually belongs to ling chao) to do his hair

Likes to eat everything, not picky with food :”)

THE ONE THAT ALWAYS STEALS FOOD FROM OTHERS.

DRAMA QUEEN

became bufan’s “woman” in IP aft the gang initiation LOL

yue likes to have clothes with holes in weird places, so i think that’s why he always wears ziyangs’s clothes

his underwear is still outside the window ledge/roof on their old qin dorm c:

can drive!!! has a car!!!! drives a honda w a super cool license plate number ahah

lmao wanted to set up an emergency fund for the himself and the boys because they are always getting their salary deducted HAHAH (+ it was said that ling chao has the most money bc he listens the best and is always on time)

plays the guitar!!!

has a tentacle fetish lmao

initially his dad wasn’t supportive of him becoming a trainee so he secretly went to idol producer without his dad’s knowledge (his dad didn’t even know what he was doing at qin ent) but rn his dad rlly supports him!!

yue yue’s fans call themselves 岳妻 (yue yue’s wife)

Mu ziyang

PROFESSIONAL MODEL

His real name is li zhenyang 李振洋 (94-liner)

his stage name 木子洋 is cause his surname 李 is formed from 木子 then they added the 洋 ; KWIN

Fans call him 小懂事 ( which means something like a sensible kid )

Walked in milan fashion week!!!!!! WALKED FOR MANY BRANDS!!!! THIS KING

FANS CALL HIM QIN’S CLOSET/SPONSOR :”)

Also said he managed to walk for the show that he most wanted to!!!!

WENT TO THE SAME SCHOOL AS BUFAN (Beijing Institute of Fashion Technology) (and was schoolmates with dong yanlei)

Scared of ghosts cause his mum used to tell him that ghosts will snatch him away if he misbehaves

says he isn’t of haunted houses, but then asks ling chao to hug him tightly when walking though it lmao

SCARED OF CRABS BC HE THINKS THEY ARE UGLY (this idiot lmao)

he’s scared of everything :)

PAID BUFAN 50 YUAN TO FEED HIM CRABS

LIKES TO DO “BUSINESS” ie trade stuff with ling chao so that ling chao will do his bidding

Rlly sad but mu ziyang got srsly sick during ip first evals and had to do iv drips until his hands were all bruised cause of the needle marks :c

Lmao this idiot thinks 3/6 > 3/5

wants to work with Leonardo DiCaprio

he can’t stand people sitting on his bed

“It’s not that the pyjamas are expensive, I’m expensive”

Sang 越战越勇 on before!!

lowkey was upset he didn’t get balloons on his birthday while yue yue got a wall of happy birthday + star balloons HAHAHA

roommates with yue in the qin dorm

threw yue’s underwear out the window bc yue forced it over his head :”) & its stuck right outside the roof at their old dorm

bought a tank for loaches/mudfish & only realised that it wasn’t meant for fishes after putting the decorations and water in it...

apparently has a driving license

once while driving a motorcycle, the battery died & he used a strangers phone to call yue yue. then yue yue had to come pick him up with his car. since he had the motorcycle, ziyang sat on the motorcycle and held on to the car handle & they drove back like that lmao

can play the piano!!!

THE ONE THAT DISSES LING CHAO

THERE WAS THIS ONCE POST ON DOUBAN where mu ziyang bought ALL the buns from the convenience store & zhu xingjie came a while later and wast stuck at the store cause he had to wait until the next batch was ready lmao

Had a huge knee surgery during his trainee period :c (the boys also visited him in the hospital) + also sad bc qin3 went for a huge seafood feast at home when mu ziyang was stuck eating hospital food

before leaving the dorms he went with ling chao to the convenience store to buy food bc he says ling chao is kinda picky with his food so he doesn’t eat much & he isnt’t able to take care of him anymore now that he’s eliminated so he used up all his remaining money to buy food for him

after being eliminated, he and yue yue went to play HAHAHA

Bu fan

his real name is bu fanfan 卜凡凡 (96-liner)

the boys call him 凡子 (fan zi), where 凡 is from his name and 子 is a term of endearment :”)

used bu fan as a stage name because he thinks bu fanfan is too cute lol; KATTO (PRONOUNCED AS KA-TOO)

192cm 对 cant play basketball though

LOVES DOGS, HUSKY

ACTUALLY DIDNT GRAD FRM SCHOOL YET :c he said his parents are pushing him to continue to study but nonetheless support him as an idol

HAS AN OLDER BROTHER (10 YEARS AGE GAP)

CLINGY

LOVES TO CRY ( crise a lot when doing stretching)

Voted most scared of pain

Once got caught eating a melon & got punished :c (+ he always steals melon from the fridge & doesn’t even close the refrigerator door afterwards...)

Always late for work apparently until there’s no more salary to be detected

HIS ACTUAL MINK JACKET IS ACTUALLY JUST A BATHROBE

apparently owes ziyang money & gave him a rap perf for money lol

Once helped an old auntie neighbour buy a new phone bc hers was old and was about to spoil

When asked if he likes girls with short hair or long hair, this boy said he doesn’t like any & likes computers instead lmao

He can’t stand low qualiy movies, it has to be in HD

when he becomes rich and successful, he’s going to help the manager xiao yu do some intense stretching lmao

“ everytime bufan goes to the subway, the authorities will always check his ID ” - yueyue

Has a wall of demoralising quotes back at the qin dorm ( iconic quotes include: “being ugly is a disease” & “the reason why you drink chicken soup is because other people have already ate the meat” & “all roads lead to rome, but some people are born in rome” )

“ 家爆脸 ”- zhou yanchen

HIGHKEY LOVES YUEYUE A LOT this sweet child tried his best to protect yue’s cake from being eaten cause he wanted yue to take a photo with it first ( in qin ent, it was said that the only way they get food is to snatch from others, so that cake was NOT safe with mu ziyang and ling chao around )

MORE INSTANCES OF HIS LOVE FOR YUEYUE, HE WILL BITE YOUR HEAD OFF IF U DISS HIS YUE :”) just look at bufan getting triggered when zhou rui mentioned about yue’s eye wrinkles

Also, he called yue yue disgusting cause yue yue didn’t come back at night & went to sleep in another trainees room ( he’s jealous )

Leader of a gang (current known members include ( xiao gui, fan chengcheng, yue yue & xu shengen)

got tricked to eat a sichuan chilli by yue yue poor thing

KING OF SEAFOOD

once a deliveryman misread his name as 小凡凡 (xiao fanfan) instead of 卜凡凡 (bu fanfan), then got dissed by the mu ziyang saying “omg why do u call yourself that”

I think bufan has a habit of saying the word 对 (dui) after a sentence, its pretty cute :”)

according to ziyang, bu fan thinks he’s the smartest in the group

has a habit of calling people 宝宝 (baobao) & 宝贝 (baobei) which means baby/babe

outed yue yue as the only one that wears mu ziyang’s clothes (when asked if mzy was really qin’s closet, he said that our group has 4 people, ling chao and I never wear mzy’s clothes)

Ling chao

His real name is li yingchao 李英超 (01-liner)

his stage name came about bc if u say his real name really fast ‘李英 (li ying) will sound like 灵 (ling) ; DIDI (lmao when he’s old he’s still going to be called didi)

call him 弟弟 (di di; little brother) or 小王子 (little prince)

Loves his candies & would probably fight u for it

Hides candies in so many diff places/compartments lmao

got a toothache bc of said candy

sings really well!!!!

SAYS HIS FAV CELEBRITY IS 黄晓明 (& angelababy)

HAS A YOUNGER SISTER BUT THINKS HE’S STILL THE PRETTIEST IN THE FAMILY

Receives the most love from the other boys :”) ( they have a rule where the plate with the most meat goes to him )

roommates with bu fanfan

Always seen with mu ziyang ( the true otp )

Doesnt like meat with fats

CAN DO SPLITS!!!!!!! & ALSO SPLITS WHILE DOING A HEADSTAND

HAS THE NICEST LOOKING EYES

is an idiot. he went to a korean restaurant & told ziyang that the “spicy cabbage” wasn’t tasty and he preferred kimchi instead. BUT THEY ARE THE SAME THING.

he likes white roses

likes cats!!

likes to scare chickens (& got scolded for it)

during break time, he has to memorise Chinese vocabulary ( and is taught by the company’s ceo!!!!!!)

i think he sticks with ziyang the most! ;; (obvs they are the superior ship)

BROUGHT ZIYANG TO SEE THE TALKING TRASH BIN JUST TO MAKE ZIYANG SCARED.

shittiest luck HAHAHA (bufan+lingchao team and yueyue+ziyang team had to draw lots to see who gets to sleep in the room and who sleeps outside in the living room, and ling chao always loses)

GETS DISSED FOR HAVING NARROW SHOULDERS

printed his own picture on a pillow then said it was “given by fans”

had a writer/blogger/reviewer kind of site where he wrote stuff

looks up to xukun and zhangjing the most in ip!

“ if your 3 qin brothers become a girl, who would be your older sister, younger sister and girlfriend? ” LING CHAO: NONE BECAUSE ALL OF THEM ARE UGLY

GETS HIT BY ZIYANG A LOT LMAO

ling chao’s fans are called 糖精 (tang jing; candy spirit) because of his love for candy

小于 (xiao yu)

BC221’s manager!!!!!!!!! (Also helps then stretch)

very sassy & playful

older than all of the qin boys ; had to work for 4 years before attending university

he’s almost always the camera man for bc221′s trainee life videos!!!! (its either him or bowen)

Came off as a little mean in the video where the boys were stretching :c but honestly he just rlly wants the best for them

Stays with the boys in their qin dorm!!!!!!

Went to the same university with mu ziyang!!! (& says mu ziyang stole his snacks, face masks, shoes, clothes, socks etc); they probably graduated the same time cause they were classmates!

Sometimes ppl call him 小鱼 (yu) ( word play; means little fish ) & mu ziyang called him 热带鱼 (tropical fish)

When yue yue got in trouble for playing computer games, he called xiao yu handsome and he laughed & immediately stop scolding yue yue LOL

yueyue likes to diss him lmao

Gives ling chao sweets!!! (doesn’t give bufan and yueyue bc they apparently dont listen to him lmao)

said to bufan : “IS BEING TALL EVERYTHING??? HUH???”

“we always get scolded by our manager, the first day would pass by normally but then on the 2nd day we would get scolded” - yueyue & bufan

“excuse you? what was that about your manager scolding you everyday? its called a heart to heart talk”

a fan sent pig feed to the company & he said he was going to save it to give to the boys as a birthday present

WROTE MU ZIYANG IS THE UGLIEST AND LEFT IT FOR ZIYANG TO FIND

yue yue calls him 小于帅 a lot.

followed yue yue to his home to visit lao yue’s mum :”) helped yue yue carried the luggage up the stairs

went Thailand with yue yue and mu ziyang after eliminations!

got dragged by bu fan into the toilet (bu fan said it was xiao yu that pushed him inside but there’s video evidence HAHAHA)

Sadly no longer part of QIN’s entertainment anymore

博文 (Bowen)

lives with the boys apparently

Shorter than the qin4 and xiao yu ahaha if you see the video angle being lower compared to others, then its bowen filming (fans call it the girlfriend angle lmao)

I think he’s qin’s video editor/photographer!

currently now part of qin’s one man subbing team rip bowen

passive aggressively posting on weibo whenever xiao yu posts updates on their Thailand adventure bc they didn’t bring him along hahahah

he has a cat called 棉裤 (cotton pants), mu ziyang hates this cat because 棉裤 always climbs on his bed

#idol producer shitpost #idol producer #ling chao #lingchao #yue yue #bufan #bu fan #mu ziyang #mine #i'm always updating this whenever i see smthg interesting omg #qin #bc221 #xiao yu #bowen

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rejectednewgod · 6 years ago

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{Alex’s Info}

BASICS

FULL NAME: Alexandra Juniper Bovet

NICKNAME/S: Alex, Juni, AJ, Witchy Woman (inside joke)

AGE: 25

BIRTHDAY: July 9th, 1995

ETHNIC GROUP: Other

NATIONALITY: Egyptian-American

RACE: New Genisis/ Human

LANGUAGE/S: English, Coptic, Arabic, Greek, Latin and can read Hieroglyphs.

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bi-Poly

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Loving.

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single

HOMETOWN / AREA: Cairo/New Genisis.

CURRENT HOME: Gotham City

PROFESSION: Writer/Lounge singer/Restaurant co-owner

PHYSICAL

HAIR: Black

EYES: Emerald Green

NOSE: Thin

FACE: Angular

LIPS: Full-ish

COMPLEXION: Pale

BLEMISHES: No Blemishes but plenty of scars.

SCARS: She has multiple little scars and some big ones from training with her magic and the fights she been in. One, in particular, is a long scar across her stomach from a battle she almost lost.

TATTOOS: She has many tattoos from victory tattoos and other personal ones. (She has the names of both of her siblings over her heart.)

PIERCINGS: Both earlobes and both upper ears.

HEIGHT: 5′9″

WEIGHT: 150 lbs (Mostly muscle)

BUILD: Slim but Built like a warrior

FEATURES: She walks with purpose like the Queen she is.

ALLERGIES: None

USUAL HAIR STYLE: Prefers braids or anything that keeps it out of her face.

USUAL FACE LOOK: Quiet contemplation.

USUAL CLOTHING: Anything black, has an affinity for leather and high boots. Loves gold a lot. Makeup game is slaying.

PSYCHOLOGY

FEAR/S: Being a disappointment.

ASPIRATION/S: To be the best she can be without harming others in the process.

POSITIVE TRAITS: Genuine love for the world, puts her friends first, protective of those she cares about, would give you the shirt off her back if she knew you needed it.

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Sees only the good sometimes, cares too much sometimes, willingly throws herself in the crosshairs for the ones she loves, cares very little about her safety compared to others, has trouble letting people in to see the true her.

ZODIAC: Cancer

TEMPERAMENT: Playful and caring, has a protective streak a mile wide, loves to be friendly, everyone is just a friend she hasn’t made yet until proven otherwise.

ANIMALS: Loves everything that lives.

VICE HABIT/S: Thrill seeker, violent at times, trains too much.

FAITH: She’s seen too much to be just one faith.

GHOSTS?: She’s talked to them

AFTERLIFE?: Been there.

REINCARNATION?: Thinks it’s likely. (Please let her be an eagle.)

ALIENS?: Is one.

POLITICAL ALIGNMENT: Whoever will fuck up less.

ECONOMIC PREFERENCE: Prefers wealth but can make do with less thanks to her warrior training.

SOCIOPOLITICAL POSITION: Feminist

EDUCATION LEVEL: Just trying to catch up with the modern world.

FAMILY

FATHER: [deceased]

MOTHER: [deceased]

SIBLINGS: Elizabeth Bovét [sister], Nathan Bovét [brother]

EXTENDED FAMILY: Damian Bovét [adopted son]

FAVORITES

DEITY: Isis (She’s the nicest one.)

MONTH: July (Reminds her of home.)

SEASON: Fall

PLACE: The Waterfront.

WEATHER: She loves rain. Back home it never rained much so she loves to play in it.

SOUND: Violins.

SCENT/S: Sandalwood. (Smells like home.)

TASTE/S: Chocolate.

FEEL/S: The wind in her face reminds her of sailing with her father and mother.

ANIMAL/S: Loves dogs the most.

NUMBER: 3

COLOR: Gold

EXTRA

TALENTS: She’s a time-displaced princess with magic Here’s the story{link not added yet}, loves to sing and is pretty good, very good at comforting people with a knack for knowing what to say when.

BAD AT: Admitting she’s wrong.

TURN-ONS: it varies from person to person, a touch, a look, a want, a desire, a gesture

TURNOFFS: If they’re a horrible person or being taken advantage of in any situation, but especially in an emotional or sexual one

HOBBIES: She likes pranks, loves to draw and sing and sculpt, also she enjoys nature and can often be found at the park with the birds.

AESTHETIC TAGS: Rebel, Witch, Modern, Bisexual, Adventure.

FC INFO

MAIN FC/S: Demi Lovato

OLDER FC/S: Demi Lovato

YOUNGER FC/S: Mackenzie Foy

VOICE CLAIM/S: Demi Lovato

#{{they're gonna make me their queen{{alex}}

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kitkat1003 · 8 years ago

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Till Death do we part-But I’m still alive

for @doodledrawsthings Bendy Au

I tried

Henry’s hair is going grey.

It’s not something Bendy notices at first, because being a cartoon makes one think that you constantly stay the same. But people don’t have models to base themselves off of, they change clothes, grow new hair, get tattoos, anything to make them stand out from a crowd of billions.

They’re the background characters that create their own stories to seem like the protagonist.

Regardless, Henry’s hair is grey.

It’s not a lot of hair, just streaks on the side, but it’s startling in comparison to the jet black Bendy is used to. When he actually notices the hair, he starts noticing other things.

Like how Henry gets up from his desk slowly, how there are creases in his skin that dont disappear, how when he starts to draw his hand shake without reason, how he forgets deadlines or storyboards.

Bendy should fire him, considering his failing work ethic, but Henry is the soul of the company run by a demon, so he simply goes over shaky lines and fills in the storyboards himself, as well as adding little post-it notes to remind the aging man of tasks.

It works for a few years. Henry later needs glasses because his vision is fuzzy when staring at the tiny lines of drawings, but other than that, things are fine.

“Geez, we’re getting old,” He comments once, and Henry crack a grin that causes those never disappearing crinkles to get deeper to the point that Henry’s face looks like a puzzle.

“Yep. Lookin to retire any time soon?” The old man jokes back, and Bendy rolls his eyes.

“Yer hilarious Henry,” That’s the end of the conversation, and the end of Bendy’s thoughts on mortality for the next five years.

Then, Henry starts to cough.

That’s not unusual in itself. The studio is dusty, many people cough on a daily basis, but Henry’s coughs are painful sound and lung wracking, and everyone notices, staring at the man with concern and trepidation, because no one wants to see Henry go, or think about him leaving.

“You think you should take some time off? You sound pretty bad,” Joey comments, but Henry waves him off.

“I’m-” A round of coughing sends his reply to a halt, but he holds up his hand when Joey reaches to do something to help. “-I’m fine, just a little cough is all,” Henry stubbornly says, before turning back to his work.

Three days later, Henry collapses on his desk, face slowly turning blue.

Five days after that, and Bendy gets a card inviting him to a funeral

It’s a quiet affair.

Bendy hates it, because Henry was quiet, but the world around him was loud with people who loved Henry and his work and his personality, and the still, pin-dropping silent way black dressed people stare at a closed casket is the dichotomy of what Henry would have wanted.

Though, he can’t really asked Henry what he wants anymore, considering, so who knows.

Bendy sits in the back, obscured by a black coat. People have seen him, but they’ve never truly gone public with his existence, and he won’t let Henry’s funeral be outshone by his discovery.

Despite how every cartoon or movie depicts a funeral with rain, it’s pleasant outside, if a little cold. People’s steamy breathes fill the air, and he can seethe shake of some woman’s shoulders as she quietly sobs. Boris places a hand on his shoulder, and Bendy realizes he’s shaking.

The world becomes blurry.

Maybe he needs glasses too.

Joey’s been wearing glasses since before Bendy existed, but he’s gotten stronger ones. He has a hearing aid now too, but if he’s annoyed at people’s ramblings he’ll turn it off and pretend to listen.

It’s a funny way to make light of how dead the building is. Henry was integral to the cohesion of the team, and his absence leaves holes unable to be filled by anyone on the current staff.

Bendy refuses to hire new ones. The people they have are trustworthy, and thy work just fine, even as age steeps their bones in ache and their eyes in weariness. Boris hires new people instead, temporary helpers that soon become permanent fixtures that Bendy ignores with a vengeance.

Joey’s hair is stark white with old age; Bendy pokes fun at it sometimes, and Joey laughs nearly every time, but then he coughs in that same way Henry used to, and Bendy goes silent.

A few days later, Joey asks for a week off, which Bendy allows, silently hoping.

He’s not at all surprised, however, when he gets the call.

He doesn’t got to the funeral, instead opting to sit in his office and stare at old photos of older memories.

People don’t stop dying, he knows this, but at the same time he wishes he could make the death stop, to keep the people he trusts by his side before he’s left alone. it’s selfish, but he wishes all the same.

Still, life moves on, and soon Wally is replaced, then the young Janitor, Sammy, Susan.

Faces he does not recognize litter the halls, and he spends most of his time in his office.

Boris finds him there.

“You can’t hide here forever,” His old friend comments, and Bendy chuckles, before throwing back his head in a full blown fit of laughter, bitter and cold like the ink tears suddenly falling down his cheeks.

He doesn’t remember how Boris got him into his arms, but he doesn’t particularly mind either, because comfort from something familiar is rare. Old photos sting, old animations burn, and old drawings slice away and bring pain whenever he divulges his own nostalgia, leaving him with weary bitter sadness and cold regret. What ifs and maybes haunt him like the ghosts of the dead that linger in each step of the building, and he’s been alive for so long he’s getting tired of living.

Boris looks into his eyes and understands.

And that’s enough

He’s sitting at his desk over viewing the newest animation when Boris brings them in. His back is turned when the come, hunched over the small screen that plays out the scene when he hears the creak of the door opening.

Christ, it’s near the 20th century, could someone oil that?

“New animators tried to sneak in for an interview,” Boris sates, but there’s an undertone of brightness that Bendy’s not used to hearing. He makes a hum of acknowledgement, and motions with his hand for Boris to leave. The door closes shut.

“What are your credentials?” he hears shuffling feet.

“We-uh, we tried to go through the Disney School of Animation, but they kicked us out because they said our style was outdated,” One of them, a soft spoken young man from what Bendy can hear, explains nervously.

“Yeah, but we knew hear that you take the old stuff and make it new but still old style, so-” Bendy again waves his hand, this time to shut them up.

They are young, with barely any college experience and much too little experience in general, but there’s a feeling of something familiar that burns in his stomach, so he turns around to face them.

One of them s tall and skinny, brown haired and the workings of a terrible goatee, with a Hell’s Inc shirt and a pencil tucked behind his ear. The other is a short, stout man with a pencil both behind his ear and in his hand, with a hastily buttoned up shirt own and a nervous smile.

“What are your names?” He asks, feeling that brightness under Boris’s voice climb up into where his heart would be if he could claim to have one.

“I’m Harold,” says the short one.

“Jack,” Says the other, and they both have that spark in their eye that Bendy recognizes from over thirty years before in two young men making a company with barely a chance of success into a trademark.

He lifts his hands out and up in a wide gesture.

“Welcome to Hell’s Incorporated,” He finally says, and the two young men smile a mile wide.

This feels like the beginning of a new era.

#BATIM #kitkat1003 #au #i foget what this au is called rip #i tired #tried #both #hope u guys like

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