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soyeahitsmiddleearth · 4 years ago

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Dimension Jumping Pt. 5

Comforting a grieving hobbit and time get everyone ready to go out!

Via the genius idea from katzrfsoa / Kat88

There's been mention of the reader not wanting to take the groups out, for fear of the public's reaction... so what about a cosplay convention? it would give the Reader the perfect excuse to allow them out, and they would wear their original clothes

----

This morning has been uneventful for the most part.

Breakfast passed by without issue and now everyone is off doing their own things.

You looked outside and took a peek in the guest room, but you still can't find him.

Sam, Merry, and Pippin are playing a board game you showed them; Legolas is doing his meditation sleep thing; Boromir and Aragorn are discussing something; and Gimli is stacking bread on Legolas' leg to see how long it takes until he notices.

Frodo, however, is missing at the moment.

Right as you were considering telling the others of his disappearance, however, you heard some shuffling from your hall closet.

You open the door carefully and take peer inside, not wanting to startle the small hobbit, and at first you don't see him.

There's more shuffling and you hear a quiet sniff, followed by soft sobs, and you then realize he's hiding behind the shelf.

The door makes a soft clicking sound when you close it, and right away the quiet cries cease. You didn't want to alert him with the door, you wanted to do it yourself, but it's too late now, so you just go with it.

"Frodo?" You call in a gentle voice, staying by the door incase he wants you to go.

"Y-Yes?' He calls back, not moving from his spot.

His voice is thick with emotion, and the sadness in his tone makes your heart ache painfully. And when you walk closer and see him huddled up behind the shelf, your heart breaks a little for him.

He hastily rids his cheeks of any evidence of his sorrows, though the puffiness around his eyes and constant sniffles don't much help his cause, and looks at you with a false smile.

"Frodo, why are you crying?" You ask with furrowed eyebrows, kneeling down in front of him so you may look at him at eye level (mostly).

"It's nothing." He tells you quickly, looking away from your compassionate face with the same sad frown on his lips.

When you don't move to get up or leave, his gaze slides back over to you and he realizes that you're not going to leave unless he straight up tells you to go away. This makes him sigh, but truthfully, he doesn't want you to go away. Not really. For having company in a time of sorrow always mends suffering.

"I... did not have a proper time to mourn Gandalf. I've been so caught up in the oddity that is this place that I almost forgot my sorrows altogether, but then this morning is all... came rushing back." He explains with a surprisingly even voice.

While he speaks you cross your legs and listen along intently, your hands folded neatly in your lap. When he finishes, you reach forward and place your hand atop his with a gentle touch, "I didn't know him, but I can tell he was very dear to you. Honestly, I can't offer much advice, but I can tell you that keeping it all bottled up inside is not a good idea."

He looks at you with that sad face when you speak, and it prompts you to continue, "Also, I know everyone else can be pretty overwhelming or they just don't understand, and I want you to know that I'm always here to listen if you're feeling down, okay?"

Your words draw a small smile from the grieving hobbit and it elicits a similar grin from you.

"Thank you, Y/N. I... actually do feel a little better."

"I'm glad."

---

After your discussion with Frodo you rejoin everyone back out in the main room and let him recollect himself, going right onto your laptop to get some work done.

You're idly scrolling through a scholarly article you need to research when you see it.

An advertisement for some sort of comic book, cosplay, convention... thing in the area (no wonder you've been seeing so many oddly dressed people recently).

At first you almost scroll past it, but then you get hit with the brick of knowledge and a lightbulb goes off in your head.

"Yes!" You scream, successfully scaring everyone in the room and Penny who is sitting with you for once. "Ohh, my god. This is freaking perfect!" You exclaim, clicking on the link to get some more information.

Your eyes practically soak up everything on the information page, and, once you've skimmed through all of it, you look up with a bright smile on your face.

Literally all of them are looking at you like you've grown two heads, but you only clap your hands together a few times. "Guys, I just had a huge brain moment!"

The joke goes over their heads as per usual, but you don't let that deter you.

"Huge brain moment?" Pippin asks in confusion, looking at his cousin like he thinks he heard it wrong or something.

"Yes! I've figured out a way to take everyone out!"

That certainly gets their attention.

"You have?" Sam asks exuberantly, dropping his game piece so he can turn towards you and pay perfect attention.

"I have, yes," you start, continuing once you're 100% sure they're all paying attention, "So here's the thing, I knew that I could take out you tall boi's without issue besides having to find a hat for Legolas here, and I could explain that Gimli here has dwarfism," you pause at that and realize it may be offensive to him, but you continue once more, "but I also knew that there's no way I can explain away the hobbits, and then I found this gem."

You turn the computer so it faces all of them, but they only look more confused.

"There's a convention thing in town for the next week, and it's the perfect opportunity for me to bring everyone out! We just have to dress up the hobbits a bit and pretend that they're children."

At your explanation you receive multiple pleased smiles, and it serves to make you feel even better about your idea. "And you can all wear your normal clothes, too. And if someone asks who you are... I'll figure out a game or something you guys can use as an alias."

"Are you sure that will work?" Aragorn asks with furrowed eyebrows, sitting up from his spot in your arm chair.

"Um, like, maybe 98%." You confirm with a shrug, "It's better than 88% though."

He doesn't seem like he disagrees with you, so you look back at your laptop again and start to look for ideas to make them more believable as humans.

---

3 hours of research later, and you've successfully compiled a completely fool proof plan to smuggle this merry band of bizarre boys out of your house.

What you've decided is that you'll put some makeup over Legolas' pointy ears to make them look more fake since the concept of elves is not lost in this world. Boromir and Aragorn can go as themselves, and you'll put some makeup on the hobbits much like you will Legolas (they'll be children elves since there are no hobbits in your world) and tell everyone who asks how they look so good that you're a professional makeup artist.

Gimli, fortunately for you, was the easiest to come up with something for next to the other two humans of this group. You can just tell people he has dwarfism and that's why he chose to go as a dwarf character.

Everything is in order except for what you're going to do, though you suppose you should match their theme and be some sort of renaissance, maiden, lady, thing. You'll figure it out, though you do need to make sure it's convincing like theirs.

You decided to, instead of putting it off, go ahead and start working on finding a costume to match theirs.

A couple of searches later and you come across a really pretty dress that looks to fit their style, and when you show it to them they give you the thumbs up, so you order it with express shipping so it should arrive tomorrow.

It's a lovely flowy medieval dress *just look up flowy medieval dress and go to images, there are some good examples there*, and you feel excited just looking at it. Of course, there's no guarantee that it'll be the best quality, but it's got great reviews and you certainly paid a hefty sum for it.

After that's done with you head to your bathroom to see what makeup you've got, and you find that you don't really have any theatrical/special effects makeup. You're going to need skin colored wax makeup, powders, and contour stuff.

You're no makeup artist, obviously, but luckily for you, your goal is to make them look less realistic, so it should be easy enough.

It's surprisingly easy to figure out what you need to make them as convincing as possible, and pretty soon you've got a nice little list going on that outlines each thing you need.

Since you don't want to delay anymore, you head out of your bathroom and grab your bag while putting on your shoes, "Legolas, I'm leaving now if you wanna come with." You suggest since he stated his desire to join you in the one of the last chapters (:o).

When you call his name he looks over at you quickly, smiling a bit at your offer, "Yes, but you said I need a hat."

"Oh yeah! I have one, just gimme a sec." You tell him, walking over to a drawer.

When you open said drawer, you find a grey beanie with ease and toss it over to him, "Here ya go. Make sure it covers your ears... and uh, tuck your hair up into it too if you don't mind."

He does as you say with ease and, surprisingly, he looks just as good with shorter hair as he does longer hair.

It sticks kinda awkwardly at first, so you waltz on over and gesture for him to crouch down so you don't have to reach up.

Once again he does as you request and leans down so you may fix it.

You adjust it a bit to make sure it won't fall first, and then you smooth it back a bit so it'll also look stylish. And once you're done you take a step back and smile at him brightly.

"All done! Let's go!"

---

He seemed rather fascinated in the way your car works first and foremost, but once you got him to look out his window instead of watching you, his excitement quickly turned into awe.

When you both get to the ULTA store he follows you without hesitation and asks some hushed questions about things he sees, like the light up signs, other passing cars, stoplights, and some other things.

You, of course, answer each question happily and lead him inside, holding the door open for him while he enters and looks around the brightly lit up makeup store.

Right away you head towards the general direction of the nose and scar wax (it's multi purpose, don't judge me), forgetting to make sure that Legolas follows you.

When it does occur to you, however, that the blond elf didn't come after you, you panic.

You turn in a circle and only stop when you see him standing with some ladies who practically have hearts in their eyes.

Unconsciously you breathe a sigh of relief and head over with the wax in your little basket, immediately reaching up to wrap your arm around his, "I got the first thing on my list, come on."

The girls stop their giggles and flirting as soon as you show up and look genuinely surprised.

You give them a smile and nod in acknowledgement, not wanting to make them feel bad over something so silly before turning with your arm still around his own and walking him over to look at some contour stuff and other things.

They make some snide comments when you turn your back about you being a 'clingy girlfriend' and 'not pretty enough to be with a model like that', but you only ignore it and relish in the fact that you didn't make them feel bad over something as silly as a cute guy in a makeup store.

"Why are those women talking about you like that?" He asks in a whisper, leaning down so only you will hear his question.

You look up at him with a bit or surprise since you didn't expect him to pick up on that, before you smile, "They're attracted to you, and they think that I was being selfish with taking you away from their advances."

"Selfish? Advances?" He looks confused, but you only smile and turn back to the display case.

"Don't worry your pretty little head over it, Leggy my boy."

"Leggy?" He asks slowly, looking at you in confusion.

"Leggy." You confirm with a nod with a distracted hum.

It isn't much later that you have everything you need, and so you go to the checkout and buy everything.

"Going to the convention?" The girl at the counter asks with a smile.

You smile back and nod your head, glancing up at Legolas before looking back at her, "That obvious?"

"No of course not, just the items in your basket always fly off the shelves around convention time." She replies with a giggle, ringing up all your items.

"Well, that's fair." You muse, putting your card into the reader to pay for it.

Once everything is in order she hands you your receipt and adds, "Maybe I'll see you there."

"Maybe!" You chirp back happily, liking the nice conversation going on here.

"You and your boyfriend have a good day now!"

You elect to ignore that.

---

On the way home you pretend to not notice the black car following yours and make small talk with the elf, answering some more of his questions and speaking idly on different things.

"There are so many odd, interesting things here..." He comments after a while, glancing out the back window. "Are you aware that, that car has been following us for the past 10 minutes?"

You nod and hum as an answer, "Mmhm, it's just Brian. He's probably trying to figure out who you are."

The blond knits his eyebrows together and glances back to look at the car again, "Should I do something about it?"

"The only thing you can do is ignore it. He went from lowercase 's' stalker to uppercase 's' since you guys arrived, and it'll only get worse if you intervene." You mumble, trying not to look in the rearview mirror at him. "It's fine."

"You don't seem to think it's fine." He challenges in the same even tone, turning in his seat towards you.

Instead of answering his question you look at him while you stop at a light and grumble, "I told you to put your seatbelt on."

"It's uncomfortable."

"I don't care."

"I will be fine."

"Not if we get into a crash, you won't."

The two of you stare each other down before he slowly reaches up and buckles his belt, never breaking eye-contact.

"Good boy." You coo in a way-too sweet voice.

"Anyways, I know we said as much before, but you needn't worry about that man while we're here." He continues despite your obvious subject change.

"I know." Your reply is softer and less defensive this time, for you really do appreciate it, "Thank you."

He looks surprised at your sudden gratitude, and his expression shows as much "For what?"

"For being you. For looking out for me. All of you."

This time he smiles and says no more.

---

When you both get back to your house you immediately put everything in your bathroom and get onto your laptop to view some techniques on theatrical and movie makeup, Pippin and Merry on either side of you while they view through the pictures and videos with you.

"That one looks interesting." Merry pipes up suddenly, pointing at a person to wolf makeup transformation.

"Yep, and way past anything I can do."

This pattern of going through pictures and viewing clips goes on for a little while until they two hobbits depart to have lunch, meanwhile you continue on so that tomorrow will be a success.

You're both excited and nervous at the same time, wanting to see how it'll all turn out but also dreading it incase something goes wrong.

You know the most important thing is to have a positive mindset about it, but it's kinda hard sometimes during your more anxious moments.

Also, there's the issue of Brian possibly following all of you...

Nah, that'll be a problem to think on for tomorrow.

"What time will we leave tomorrow?" Aragorn asks from his usual spot on the rocking chair, Penny still nestled in his lap as per usual.

"Around the morning. I bought the tickets already so we won't have to stand in line for too long... Hopefully."

"Thank you for working so hard so that we may see more of your world." He comments suddenly, stroking his hand down her fluffy back.

You tilt your head to the side and smile a bit, "You don't have to thank me."

"No, I do. You have seen to our every need and we no doubt pose to be a huge burden. Thank you, really."

His words make you flush slightly, and you look away shyly.

You've grown to care about all of them, so of course you would do anything to keep them comfortable at this point. More than anything you're just glad they see how much you're trying to make things easy on them. It feels nice being recognized for your efforts.

Plus, the added protection from Brian is pretty sweet.

"Anything for you guys."

#the fellowship x reader #the fellowship of the ring #the fellowship of the ring x reader #frodo baggins #pippin took #boromir #lotr gimli #legolas greenleaf #samwise gamgee #merry brandybuck #aragorn #lord of the rings fanfiction #dimension jumping pt. 5 #dimension jumping pt. 2 #frodo x reader

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treistei · 3 years ago

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bestie gimme a piece of advice on going back to collage again

overdress every day look bomb as fuck do your makeup if you want to if not do your hair make some fun hairstyles or something buy a cheap but nice smelling perfume and make yourself look hot as fuck every day you'll feel 1000 times better

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kettlequills · 3 years ago

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affinity

unsure at this point whether elenwen would benefit more from a long course of therapy or a good dicking. luckily, neither of these are in store for her, so enjoy an elenwen who is not hinged at all plus sybille, who is having a very bad day. TW: blood drinking, cutting, violence, manipulation and threat, sexual themes, and character death. implied sybille/istlod, a lil elenwen/elisif, uhh idk if youd say this is elenwen/sybille but hm. enjoy, and gimme a shout if you think it needs an extra tag. a03

Elenwen discovers Sybille's secret, and has ... words.

The Thalmor Ambassador had come to Solitude and found an empty palace. No one else was there but Sybille, left to frustratedly amuse the Ambassador while someone hurried to fetch the steward, the Jarl, somebody. Anybody, but Sybille Stentor. Some dispute had drawn them away – some fluster in the training yard – Sybille neither knew nor cared, except that Falk was not here to ask the Ambassador why she had come to darken their door, nor even Elisif, to gracefully offer wine and bread to the sour-faced elf.

Even if it had not been months since she had last slaked her thirst in the prisons beneath Solitude, Sybille still would have had little patience for this. The Thalmor irritated her, with their poorly-hidden disdain, their smugness, their superiority. As it was, her head pounded, her throat ached, and moving around in the dim evening sunlight was painful enough that it made her vision blur red. She had begun to hear heartbeats in the chests of her friends, the Jarl she was trying to become loyal to, and each night was an exercise in self control growing monumental in difficulty.

And there was Elenwen standing with her hands behind her ramrod back, looking as if she had sniffed something foul. Her expression was so forbidding, so bleak, so threatening that Sybille immediately perceived why the weak-willed guards had found someplace else to be. For once, she was completely alone, unflanked by unsmiling justiciars.

Foolish, or another spiteful little snub. No, Elenwen had nothing to fear in the heart of the Blue Palace – as much as they might whisper into their pillows how much they hated Thalmor oversight, Thalmor gold still sweated in their palms as they tipped their toothless necks back for the glutting. Why bother with guards, when you had the helmless court of Solitude on a leash?

Oh, Istlod. How he would be ashamed, to see his court reduced to this.

“Ambassador,” Sybille ground out, hating this. She wasn’t supposed to be the one greeting dignitaries come to pander and parley. That was Falk’s job, or the Jarl’s – but Istlod was long gone, and Torygg was dead, now.

Torygg, Torygg. He’d been just a boy; Sybille remembered as if it had been yesterday his chubby hands grabbing on the front of her robes, his lisping pronunciation of “ibble!” before he’d learnt to say her name. A gangly teen, pimple-faced but trying desperately to be noble, the pride of Istlod’s eye, blushing-bold. Bare years after, before even the flower of his prime – dead, dead and cold on the cobbles. Sybille had promised Istlod to keep him safe. But she’d failed. She failed, and Torygg was dead, his murderer walking free and all that was left was … Elisif.

Elisif. A dear girl but… not Torygg. Young, foolish, easily swayed. Inexperienced. Weak, when they needed strength. When Sybille needed Torygg. She was fond enough of her but Elisif looked at her like she was drowning, always begging for advice, and when Sybille met her eyes all she saw was the moment when Torygg had heard Ulfric’s challenge ashen-faced, then turned to his bright young wife and visibly steeled himself.

Ready to die, rather than dishonour her, disappoint her.

It wasn’t Elisif’s fault that she had survived Ulfric when Torygg had not, but Sybille could not stop blaming her. Still, Sybille wished she was here now. The young Jarl was better at this, the inane courtesies, the lies, than Sybille was. Even if Sybille thought she was far friendlier to the Thalmor Ambassador than was wise.

“Court Mage,” Elenwen greeted, polite as picture. In her clipped Dominion accent, the two words sounded loathsome as a curse. Her lip curled upwards in an estimation of what she probably thought a smile was supposed to look like. It was all sneer, and like most of the Emissary's facial expressions, was tinged with pointed disgust.

She was standing rigidly in the main hall of the deserted emptiness of the Blue Palace like a stubborn brick over a fire. Choking all the air out of the room, stifling, her presence as oppressive as a lead weight. The maids had all found themselves somewhere else to be, fearing, no doubt, the Ambassador’s legendarily cutting tongue and Sybille’s own displeasure at being left to entertain. As if she did not have a thousand more pressing matters to attend to, and barely the patience besides.

Not even when she was well-fed, which she was not.

They stood in silence for a moment, Sybille warring with herself, before she grudgingly asked, “Are you in need of refreshments, Ambassador?”

Hospitality, to a pit viper. If Sybille had not been what she was, the thought would be funny. As it was, it only insulted – Solitude did not need any more secret teeth tracking the prey that would not be missed. Sybille had heard the rumours, like everyone else, of secret Thalmor dungeons, and screams from beneath the solar so loud that they could be heard over the music during the parties. The prisoners of Solitude – such as they were – were Sybille’s domain.

“No,” said Elenwen, a pinch too swiftly, as if the very idea was nauseating, “And yourself, Court Mage?”

Sybille's control of her face was not so slight that she blinked, but she was aware of a tightening around the skin of her knuckles. The words, the consideration, were so odd in Elenwen’s cold, autocratic tones that at first she was certain she had misheard.

“I fail to see how that is any concern of yours,” Sybille said rudely, and suddenly, Elenwen changed.

She turned fluidly towards Sybille and prowled closer, the stiffness as if she was daring not to breathe for fear of inhaling foul scent gone. Her sneer vanished, smoothed into a smile, wide and full, completely genuine, utterly threatening. Her eyes glittered flatly, like mirrors. Her movements were slow and slinking. Gone were the sharp clicks of her boots, muffled by some trick of her step that left her silent as a panther.

Sybille was left feeling like the world had suddenly shifted to the left and left her behind, as dizzy as if a rug had been pulled out from underneath her. A moment ago, the Thalmor Ambassador had stood in front of her, haughty as ever, unbending with her stiff Altmeri pride – but this hungry, prowling creature was not her.

Her teeth sharpened in her mouth at the implicit threat that rolled off Elenwen, at her approaching closeness, the blood Sybille could sense flushing the capillaries under her skin, pounding through the chambers of her cold Altmeri heart. At once, Sybille was immensely aware that there was no one to observe them; no one at all.

And it had been weeks, weeks since Sybille had drunk her fill.

“How quickly these mortal children wane compared to the lifetime of an elf,” Elenwen murmured. Her voice was throaty and rich, the sharpness of the consonants blurred by a coastal accent that Sybille swore she had not had before. “How we see them pass us and consign the summers of our childhoods to the distant realm of myth and mystery as they bloom and fade in the blink of an eye. Truly, I am impressed at how faithfully you served the late Jarl Torygg, like you served his father Istlod before him. Tell me, how many of them have ... failed to see?"

Elenwen's horrible smile stretched wider.

"But I see, Court Mage.”

“I am perfectly well-appreciated within my position, Ambassador,” Sybille said coldly.

She was beginning to feel somewhat uncomfortable. There was no possible way that Elenwen knew her secret, but the damn elf seemed far too smug for Sybille’s liking. She hated these types, the twisted double-talk that meant something else entirely. Was she attempting to recruit Sybille to the Thalmor? She had to know that Sybille would never have agreed to that, for Istlod’s sake, who had been miserable at the news of the Concordat, if nothing else. Now, if only they were somewhere a little more secluded, then Sybille could teach her some proper manners –

Except no, she couldn’t, that was the Thalmor Ambassador. People would notice if she visited the Solitude dungeons and came back with marks on her neck and a hunger to be bitten, drained deep, pliant in the arms of a predator, better attitude notwithstanding. And Sybille couldn’t kill her. Not without reprisal.

Istlod would have wanted Sybille to kill Elenwen. Except – no, he had agreed to the peace too. Her fangs pressed insistently, dully, on her tongue.

Elenwen’s smile widened. Sybille saw every one of her straight teeth. Too white, too even, lined up like regiment soldiers or grave-markers for war-dead. Some of them were fake, she was willing to bet. This wide, the makeup caking her cheeks folded around her smile unflatteringly, the thick foundation hazed with cracks. Fake, fake, but the blood that ran under her skin was real.

Sybille could force her to bleed, force her to feel spark-bright pain, force her to reveal the truth under her teeth, her claws, her little boot knife. Even an ice-spike would do, chill that golden flesh high and taut until it pebbled with goosebumps and she was shivery and damp, and the heat of her blood spilling over her chest made her gasp at the shock of warmth.

That would make her speak straight and true, if nothing else would.

“It has been a dry spell in the prisons, hasn’t it?” Elenwen purred, soft, sympathetic, as if she was commiserating over something truly terrible, “My condolences, truly, you have been much more patient than I would. But tell me, have any of your beloved young humans noticed you have not aged a day?”

“Many humans are not aware of the life spans of an elf,” she said, to hide the fluttering of something that was beginning to feel like panic or fury. “I am Dunmer, a few decades are no great time to me.”

“Could you go decades, I wonder?” Elenwen’s smile dropped, but the look that replaced it was worse, coquettish, sly. She contrived some way of looking up at Sybille through her eyelashes painted and curled with oil despite her taller height and took a falsely-nervous step closer, all awkward shoulders and sliding foot, just as if she was a wheedling young lover begging her first kiss. But her eyes danced brightly, privately, as if this entire interaction was nothing but a game they were playing, just the two of them. “I rather think you’re hungry now.”

“I ate this morning,” Sybille lied flatly, “with the rest of the hall.”

“Tch,” said Elenwen, as if Sybille had missed a step, and belatedly, Sybille realised it would not be any hardship for a spy group as developed as the Thalmor to verify that lie, “Are you sure, Court Mage? We could test it, if you like. How much of you would be left, after decades? It’s been such a short time, and yet, I can see it in how you look at me.” She came closer, thrilled and faux-breathless. "You are hungry."

“I am quite sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sybille bluffed, but she knew she had lost. Whatever game the Ambassador was playing, Sybille did not know the dance. She glanced haphazardly around the room, but they were truly alone. She could not hear so much as a scuffing slipper or clank of mail.

“Two months, three, since you last drank blood,” Elenwen clarified, so there was no possibility at all of pretending that she did not know, and smiled, smiled, smiled wide at the look of horror on Sybille’s face. Ice poured down Sybille’s spine. The floor dropped out from underneath her. No, no no, the Thalmor could not know.

“Were you fucking his father?” Elenwen asked conversationally, in the silence that fell, “Torygg’s, I mean.”

“I don’t… That is a serious accusation, Ambassador!” Sybille hissed, ignoring her, unable to name the feeling that started icy in her fingertips and spread dully and low up into her breastbone until she ached the whole way through. Her stomach knotted and writhed.

“Aren’t you thirsty, Sybille Stentor?”

Elenwen was so close now. So close that Sybille had to step back, her tall shadow casting her in gloom. Her eyes were half-moons behind the sun, and the light gilded her blonde hair like it was strands of gold. A strand drifted out of its aggressive pinning as Elenwen bent forward, swaying into Sybille like she was magnetised, and tickled there along her artificially-blushed cheek. Sybille could smell the powders, the hotness of her skin trapped beneath it. She had bleached with lemon oil recently, a faint scent clung to her, almost drowned by the floral drench of cosmetics.

“I don’t have time for this nonsense,” Sybille snapped, mouth dry as bone, and Elenwen laughed. It was full and unrestrained, a laugh from the stomach, and nothing at all like the stiff, courteous little smirks she gave as ambassador. It rang, rich and loud, through the entire hall, down the stairs and over the thrones, and Sybille heard it with a sinking feeling of a lock snapping shut.

Elenwen would never have laughed so loudly, so out of her stiff Ambassador performance, if she thought it was possible she could be overheard. Would she? Was this a bluff?

Sybille’s gaze darted again to the dark eyes of the doorways, but the palace seemed empty. Were there Thalmor in the wings? Elisif. Was the Jarl safe? She should be – though had not Sybille sent a servant to fetch the Jarl, the steward? Was Elenwen planning to unmask her before the court?

“Come on now,” said Elenwen, warmly, her smile conspiratorial like they shared a secret, just her and Sybille, “We’re all alone now, and I’m right here. Why don’t you bite me? Look,” She undid the first two buttons of her uniform, exposing a long line of pale gold throat. “I’ll make it easy. Do you like it easy?”

“Are you insane?!” Sybille snapped. There was no other possible response to that.

Nonetheless, her eyes were drawn to the expanse of bared skin, the delicate lines of the veins and tendons in Elenwen’s neck. She could see the forklike line of her jugular, the thinner softnesses of her veins. Vulnerable. The skin here had not been painted and powdered, hidden as it normally was under her collar. It was paler, yellower, like Elenwen did not get enough sun. Sybille wondered how she bruised. Whether she would paint over the bruises Sybille would leave her, when she woke in the morning, and wondered how she had struck her neck in the night.

Sybille swallowed around a mouth pooling with spit. It had been too long.

She could see the hollow where Elenwen’s pulse fluttered, waiting for Sybille to sink her teeth home. What would she taste like? Could anyone truly blame her, if she took just a little taste, just the tiniest mouthful, to sate her burning throat?

Surely, if she was doomed already, it would not hurt.

“Bite me,” ordered Elenwen, steely. Softer, she said, “Bite me, Sybille Stentor. You must be so thirsty. Doesn’t it feel like flames in your throat?”

It did, it felt like each inhale peeled dry chunks of her throat off with all the gentleness of searing sandpaper. Elenwen was so close now that Sybille could lift her chin and kiss her, close enough that her breath, warm, alive, smelling vaguely of summer-wine, brushed Sybille’s cold cheeks. Elenwen’s warmth was like another creature between them, the impossibility of Sybille being the dead one, with Elenwen’s eyes like a mirror to every fear Sybille had ever banished.

“You must have confused me with someone else,” Sybille said faintly as Elenwen stepped even closer. Their bodies brushed, her breath fanned hotly over Sybille’s forehead.

Elenwen hummed a little, disappointed. “Perhaps,” she said, and suddenly there was a dagger in her hand, so quick even Sybille’s vampiric eyes could not spot it. Just as fast, the dagger flashed, once, twice – and then the heavenly aroma of fresh blood reached Sybille’s nose. On Elenwen’s neck, either side of her tendons, two deep slices welled fresh red, deep, deep enough that after the first droplet rolled enticingly towards her collarbones another followed.

Sybille swallowed. She could smell it, thick as perfume, tantalising as an oasis in the desert. Elenwen’s blood was fresh, healthy, and right there. It was bright red, scandalously scarlet, against the warm gold of her throat, like a slash of silk. The candlelight from Sybille’s little alcove shone and shimmered in the droplet like the magicka in it sparked and sung, for Sybille alone. Begging her, almost, to lean forward – barely any movement at all, to chase the droplet with her tongue, lap up along that proud, stiff neck to the wet gash that fluttered like breathless lips waiting to be kissed.

How fast was Elenwen’s heart beating, to push such quick, steady little pulses down her neck? The collar of her robes was darkening to a liquid blackness, but Elenwen did not seem faint at all. Would she be strong til the end, Sybille wondered, would her heart hammer and struggle against her lips, her hands, her body and Sybille’s mouth? Would she pant and gasp and writhe, or would she fall still and silent, terror-glazed eyes and frozen muscles, or best of all, would she struggle and strain, drum weakening hands against the firm cage of Sybille’s arms?

“It’s a bad time to be a vampire in Solitude, isn’t it?” Elenwen asked, friendly, almost sweet, “With all that terrible news about undead stirring in the catacombs. A death sentence for you if anyone should find out, I expect.”

Sybille opened her mouth but her fangs were beginning to protrude, and venom ran eagerly down her chin. Elenwen’s gaze tracked the wetness in her mouth, and her voice dropped an octave when she spoke again.

“But I’m right here, and I’m offering,” said Elenwen, soft as a spider, warm as the blood Sybille could not tear her eyes from. “I could do so much for you if you enthralled me. All the power of the Thalmor at your fingertips…”

She chuckled, darkly. This close, Sybille felt it vibrate through her chest into Sybille’s own. The movement of her shoulders had a droplet of blood, teetering on the steep ridge of her tendon, tumble headlong into the sleek curve of the dip where her collarbones joined her neck. The swipe of red glistened wetly.

“… and I have so many more little puppets dancing for me than you could ever guess, Sybille Stentor. You would never have to fear being found again. All it would take is… a taste. Bite me.”

Pressing her shoulders back against the wall, Sybille turned her head away stubbornly. The stone was cold through her robes. Elenwen’s warmth was dizzying by contrast. Sybille was hot with bloodlust, had never wanted so badly. She was aware, as if it was happening to someone else, that she was trembling.

Involuntarily, she considered Elenwen’s offer. Imagined stepping forward, grasping the elf’s thin waist, following the trail of blood with her tongue. Licking up that taunting trail over the rigid line of her tendon, sucking hard and strong on the slash she’d cut into her own neck, the bones of Elenwen’s hips fine as glass under her grip. Imagined how Elenwen would go moaning-soft and boneless as butter in her arms, her long ears brushing over Sybille’s hood as her head drooped. How Sybille would have to catch her when her knees buckled, the reflexive way she would go to push Sybille away turned to a trembling grasp, rigid at first by the pain, then softened by the venom, how her brilliant, hard blazing eyes would go soft, dark, round with venom and bloodloss euphoria, when Sybille imposed her will over her, how Sybille would drink, and drink, and drink-

But no – it was broad daylight in the middle of the fucking Blue Palace, there was no way that Sybille could drain Elenwen or thrall her quick enough to avoid discovery, and that was only if Elenwen didn’t have some other plan. There was no way that Sybille would go along with some Thalmor plot out of – hunger, hunger alone.

What would Istlod say?

Elenwen pressed close until she was crowding Sybille against the wall. Her body was thin and bony, the buckles of her uniform dug into Sybille’s breastbone. Her lips brushed the tip of Sybille’s ear through her hood when she spoke. This close, the smell of blood was intoxicating.

But Sybille was not strong enough to push her away.

“Drink,” Elenwen cajoled. “It’s been so long since you last had a prisoner, hasn’t it? …Such unfortunate accidents.”

Sybille heard the shift of cloth, that and outrage had her turning her head back to glare at Elenwen, but she was too close, and instead Sybille’s nose butted against her smooth cheek. Her skin was searing hot, a fine dust from her makeup tickled Sybille’s nose. Sybille felt Elenwen’s repressed shiver at the chilly brush of Sybille’s dead skin against hers in the pit of her stomach. “You-?”

“Me,” Elenwen confirmed, smile widening in Sybille’s peripheral vision.

Sybille was transfixed as Elenwen lifted her finger to the bleeding wound on her neck and shoved her finger in, stark, bold, crass. Her smile never wavered at all at the pain. Her bright, bright eyes were focused on Sybille. The part of Sybille that had been mortal once was horrified at her disregard, the part of her that thirsted so badly for blood it barely cared anymore found it unbearably erotic.

She behaved like a venom-drunk thrall, but she smelled rich and fresh, unbitten, untainted. Did she feel no pain, or did she not care? … Did she like it?

The deepened wound gushed redly down her neck, and Elenwen leaned even closer, until the warmth of her body pressed Sybille’s cold one through their robes, like she wanted to become one with her bones, buckles and all. She was thin, thinner than Sybille had expected her to be; she could feel the ridges of Elenwen’s ribs, her small breasts, the cavernous flutter of her stomach.

Elenwen’s finger, glistening with her own blood, raised towards Sybille’s watering mouth.

There was nowhere to go. She turned her head, straining, but Elenwen chased her, cornered her, and Sybille’s mouth parted involuntarily to stop it from painting her lips red. If she tasted the blood – even a droplet – Sybille knew she couldn’t hold back. She choked out a little moan when Elenwen let her finger rest there inside Sybille’s mouth without touching her at all, breathing in the scent of her, so strong, so present. Slender and long, she could have tickled the back of Sybille’s throat if she chose, made her cough and gag and choke, but she did not, instead she teased, not touching, not tasting, forcing Sybille to breathe around the inescapable allure of her.

“I must confess a little professional curiosity,” Elenwen told her, intimate as a lover’s whisper, “I’ve never met a vampire before, and I’ve always wondered how it compares. The blood of Alinor’s finest surely ought to taste better than the swill in the dungeons, though personally, I can’t say I’ve ever tasted much of a difference – Nord, Altmer, Dunmer, we’re all good in wine.” She smirked a little at that. “Won’t you taste, for me?”

The saliva pooled down around Sybille’s fangs and over her chin. She closed her eyes in humiliation.

Elenwen tutted. “I suppose not. Perhaps this will help.” She drew closer, closer, nudging under Sybille’s hood, until her breath puffed over Sybille’s ear, waking long dead nerves with a shiver. Her free hand bracketed the wall above Sybille’s head, then stroked down over the back of her neck and seized the base of her skull. Her fingers knotted into the hair there, each one hot as a brand.

Sybille forced her tongue against her teeth, trying to ground herself through the strain in her jaw. Elenwen’s blooded finger in her mouth was a burning beacon, commanding attention. Spit and venom drooled continuously down her chin. Elenwen’s thready heartbeat – affected, now, by the bloodloss – pounded underneath Sybille’s ribs like a call to war.

“I killed Torygg,” Elenwen breathed into Sybille’s ear. “I told Ulfric to kill him. I broke his mind and I told him to murder poor King Torygg. I was told he squealed like a stuck pig when Ulfric knocked him down, broke his darling bones with one of those beastly shouts of his. Did you hear them break? There’s a certain sound a bone makes when it shatters beyond repair, and the look in a plaything’s eyes, when they realise they are only breakable meat – well, you don’t need me telling you how sweet that is. … I envy you. I wish I could have seen it.”

Elenwen’s gory detail was not needed. That day was burned into Sybille’s memory, the dull wet pops, the snaps and cracks of Torygg’s bones, the horrible thud and the wail he’d made in the thunderous after-shocks of that terrible Shout, the bitter venom in Sybille’s mouth when Ulfric contemptuously cut his head from what remained of his shoulders with one swipe. Ruby-red, it spurted from the messy stump, it had puddled in the grooves of the courtyard’s cobbles, and weeks after rust-red flecks were found, splattering shoes and hems. Torygg had contained so much blood in him, so much of Istlod, and his iron scent was seared into her nose, her mind, mixing with the tantalising barely-there taste of Elenwen in her mouth.

Sybille gurgled on a gasp. She closed her eyes harder, overwrought, fighting to restrain the tears that welled there. That broke through the blood-haze. She’d known. She’d known it had been too simple, that it hadn’t made sense. But – the Thalmor, killing Torygg? Manipulating Stormcloak?

Elenwen moaned at something on Sybille’s face, tearing her concentration. The vibration stirred Sybille’s chest, the quiver of her ear, and Elenwen’s hips ground against hers in subtle, excited circles. It was vile. It was seductive. Sybille had never wanted to break more than she did now. She deserved to die. Wouldn’t it be worth it? Grief, sick desire, warred with prudence. But – this was what she wanted, Sybille fought to remember, the Ambassador was trying to manipulate Sybille to – to –

She was so thirsty.

Sybille’s teary glare did not seem to faze Elenwen at all. This close, she could see the breaks in the makeup that covered Elenwen’s skin, the artificial wrinkles that made her look older than she truly was. Everything fake, a performance. She made a negative sound around the venom bubbling out of her mouth, and Elenwen smiled. It was not a nice smile.

“And I think I might fuck that idiot doll you’ve got on the throne, too,” Elenwen whispered, and Sybille’s jaw muscle jumped. Her catlike eyes warmed with glee. “Oh, I know you were warning her off my little parties. Came back in too much of a state once, did she? The funny thing is that she approaches me – you should be thanking me, really, all that whining about her poor husband, but she cheers right up if you get a little summerwine into her, turns right into quite the … bold … little … slut.”

That last word was delivered in a hiss, lips brushing Sybille’s ear, and at once, she couldn’t take it any longer. She jerked to snarl back, and Elenwen’s bloodied finger rubbed the soft wetness of the inside of Sybille’s mouth. The rich taste of fresh blood overwhelmed her, blanked her mind. Sybille sucked reflexively, and Elenwen’s breath stuttered in her chest. She threw back her head, exposing her bloody neck, and ground hungrily into Sybille.

“Does your doll like knives?” Elenwen panted. “I do.”

Then, she laughed, delighted and breathless, as Sybille’s hands left the wall and found themselves somehow on Elenwen’s back, pressing her close, wrinkling her robes beneath clenched fists. She bit the flesh between her teeth, dazed, searching tongue prodding for all the blood she could smell but not taste. Her own venom burned her throat when she swallowed.

“Oh, though I suppose it doesn’t matter,” Elenwen continued, tugging her finger free, “She will learn to, if I want her.”

Her body tensed as if she meant to move back, but Sybille shot forward faster than lightning with a bloodcurdling snarl. She seized Elenwen’s hair and waist in a vicious grip, bringing her face close to the dripping wounds. The blood, hot and wet, the revenge, the wanting. At last, Sybille dared a tentative lick, a long, sure line up Elenwen’s neck, chasing the path of the bleeding. She tasted like magic, sun, knives, sharp and a little acrid. Intoxicating. Sybille smoothed over the wetness of the open wound, and she hesitated there, damnation at her lips.

A man’s face was before her eyes, fuzzy Nord-beard, mournful wrinkle-sagged stare. …Istlod?

Elenwen did not fight her at all, though Sybille felt the prick of her dagger against her ribs, a second from slipping into her heart, even as she whimpered at the tightness of Sybille’s grip on her fine hair. It was soft, thin as insect-wings over Sybille’s fist. Elenwen’s body hummed with tension like a live-wire, she breathed in gasps, and she trembled faintly with an unbearable want that Sybille could feel straining to pierce the skin, meet its echo in the parched emptiness of Sybille’s bloodless gut. But her knife tickled at Sybille’s robes, warning and promise both.

“Go on,” Elenwen goaded, her voice strained, a little breathy, cracked with desperation, “Hurt me. You must want to. I killed him, I starved you. Hurt me.”

Could she drain Elenwen before Elenwen stabbed her? There was some reason why Sybille could not drink, she knew that, but all thought deserted her every time she breathed, every time she couldn’t help herself and licked the welling blood before it reached Elenwen’s collar, tracing the topography of her willing throat. Elenwen made sounds, beautiful and ragged, when Sybille lapped at her with her cold tongue, shivered in her arms, all eager sighs and clutching hands and poised knives. But still, Sybille did not affix her mouth over the pumping vein and drain, drain, drain her dry.

“Just-!” Elenwen bit out, “What’s wrong with you? Just – do it…”

Sybille strained against her desires. A battleground between her self-control, the mind of the mage who had served loyally for years, and the hungry animal that howled for blood. Istlod. Torygg. The sweetness of the elfsblood – sunlight and sweat, blade-tip lick – in her mouth. The iron reek of Torygg splattering over the cobbles. Elenwen’s gasps, overlaid with the symphony of Torygg’s body breaking, shattering, pulping under the force of Ulfric’s rage. The world had quaked then, now it whimpered in Sybille’s arms, immobilised by her grip. Istlod at peace on his bed, still smiling his last smile. Torygg’s tears. Elisif wailing, when the sword came down. The war-prisoners in the dungeon, hollow-eyed men whose blood tasted of death and despair. The Thalmor’s snake-whisper, hurt me.

Sybille felt Elenwen’s ear twitch against her hand. A moment later, footsteps rushing towards them.

“Out of time, vampire,” Elenwen cooed, almost a disappointed sigh, and when she pulled back this time Sybille felt her numb fingers release her.

She swallowed, copiously, trying to empty her mouth of spit, and burned hotly with indignation.

“You dare,” Sybille rasped, but Elenwen only quirked her lips, apathetic to Sybille’s fury.

A flash of light and the marks were gone, eaten by healing magic. The dagger disappeared into the folds of her robes, the buttons done up, the stray hair smoothed back into its severe imprisonment. She stood an easy few paces away, as if she had never dared to come so close to a starved vampire, a vampire she had starved. It took moments, and through it all Elenwen’s expression was bored, not a hint of fluster, not even a breath of that wretched amusement or nauseating intrigue.

“I’ll send a prisoner or two your way,” Elenwen promised in a flat voice, plucking at the neckline of her robe. “Do think of me when you drink them, won’t you?”

She drew herself up, and suddenly the Ambassador was back, rigid and stern.

“The Thalmor appreciates your cooperation in this matter, Court Mage,” she said sniffily, the accent disappearing as if it had never been there in exchange for the ringing, cold tones Sybille was used to from her. Pinched about her eyes there was nothing but vague disdain, as if she knew nothing about Sybille, as if she had never clung to Sybille and all-but-pleaded to her, and in fact, considered her just as interesting as a cockroach beneath her heel.

She turned away when Falk rushed out of the bowels of the Blue Palace and greeted her with a flurry of apologies. There was not a wrinkle on her uniform. Her heels clicked loudly on the marble as she followed Falk, reverberating into Sybille’s ears, as if she was the only sound.

Sybille sagged against the wall, and cursed Elenwen in every tongue she knew. Sybille considered herself good at reading people, had thought herself safe, well-protected here at the heart of the court. But the damned Thalmor had her over a barrel. She had no doubt these prisoners of Elenwen’s would be nothing but good men and women who had simply fallen on the wrong side of the Dominion, and Sybille nothing more than a convenient way of disposing of them. She could not see a way out of this trap easily – Elenwen could expose her with a word, had proven her control over Sybille’s food source, had threatened the last dregs of the family Sybille had loved.

Sybille needed blood from those who wouldn’t be missed, needed secrecy, needed to be in court even more than ever to protect Elisif and Solitude now she had glimpsed the danger Elenwen posed: the disdainful Ambassador, the eager prey, the gloating predator, glossed in her makeup to falsely age herself, in her uniform that hid her thinness, with her secrets and her contradictory masks. And yet, the most troubling of all was that Sybille could not tell which of the sides of Elenwen she had seen was the truth, and which was the lie.

#inkwrites #elenwen #sybille stentor #skyrim #tes #this wasnt my best work but it was fun #i was in a vampire mood anyway and i had the prompt waiting so why not? lol #the elder scrolls #elder scrolls #my fic affinity

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angrylizardjacket · 5 years ago

Text

the band with no name {Douglas Booth} 2

A/N: 1654 words. A bit shorter, but we’re getting into things now. idk how i feel about it, please give me feedback.

[PART 1]

Flop of The Month, your band, has an instagram account with exactly two posts on it, and Douglas feels like both and idiot, and a creepy stalker, for the amount of time he spends flicking through the two photos without actually liking them, for fear of you realising who he was.

Colson, however, seemed to have no such reservations.

“Look, I’m on their story,” Colson’s grinning from ear to ear as the cast and crew break for lunch the Monday after they’d seen your band play, showing Douglas his phone, and your band’s instagram story. It showed their notifications, highlighting how Colson had liked both photos and followed them, and had the caption ‘how’d the rap devil find us?’ and ‘not complaining tho’.

“Bloody hell,” is all Douglas can bring himself to say, wearing a half-smile as they made their way to the costume department to get changed before lunch. It had been a low effort day, just jeans and t-shirts, but it was always safer to not eat in costume. Hair and makeup could stay and be touched up however.

Your band’s page had begun the day with 217 followers, and ended it with over a thousand. There wasn’t a link to your personal page, and so all he can do is scroll through your Facebook while waiting for Colson to be ready to go.

Y/N: weird question Y/N: also, hi Y/N: but yeh, weird question Y/N: was your friend last night mgk?

Douglas takes a moment to compose his thoughts before typing out his response.

Douglas: hi back Douglas: and yes.

There’s a few minutes of silence, and Douglas can feel his scalp itching beneath his wig, just a little, but he tries to ignore it.

Y/N: cool. Y/N: well it was nice meeting you guys!! Y/N: looking forward to seeing if ur band is real btw Douglas: probably wont be for a while Y/N: im happy to wait Y/N: if u want me there that is Douglas: if we ever actually play a gig, you’ll be the first to know

You send a blushing smiling emoji back, and Douglas finds himself strangely pleased.

“Is that her?” Colson asks, eyes shining as he pulled on his leather jacket; with his wig and makeup, he still absolutely looked the part. Douglas quickly slipped his phone in his pocket, knowing that a faint blush dusted his cheeks despite his best efforts. As he waffled his way through an affirmation, Colson’s smile just grew wider.

“I still don’t understand why you were being so vague; she probably would have jumped you there and then if she knew you were part of the Motley Crue movie, man.”

“Yeah,” Douglas said, his discomfort mounting at the insinuation, “that’s the problem, dude; first of all, I don’t know if she like the band themselves, or just the music, and if she does like the band,” he paused, shrugging a little, quietly embarrassed, “what if she likes them better than me?”

“They’re all married,” Colson says, like it immediately solves everything.

“Man, you know that’s not the issue,” Douglas sighed, but it’s clear he wasn’t done, and Colson just waited, eyebrows raised, “you know, girls who are like... like... how did you say it the other week? When that girl from Instagram was in your DMs every other minute?”

“Clout chasing,” Colson nodded sagely, suddenly understanding all too clearly his co-star’s apparent fears, “well she doesn’t know who you are yet.”

“Exactly,” Douglas exclaimed, glad the craft services tent was finally in view, feeling himself grow hungrier by the moment, “and I think I wanna keep it that way, just for now.”

“Better pray she doesn’t watch Jupiter Ascending,” Colson snorts, just as Douglas punches him in the arm.

The next day, he messages you first, sends a photo of himself and the rest of the band out of costume, but holding their instruments, all wearing heels to help make it easier to wear them around set.

Douglas: the band says hi Y/N: shit, you guys have instruments and everything Y/N: getting less sketchy by the minute

You follow it up with a winking emoji, and a photo of yourself, out in the sunshine, dressed impeccably, makeup dark and sharp, holding a stack of posters beside your head, advertising your band’s next gig; this Saturday.

Douglas: are you inviting me? Y/N: only if you’re saying yes

Your confident coyness amuses him, despite the way the shoes are pinching his toes, and he tells you he’ll be there.

The next day, you send a link to a band name generator, but more interestingly, you send it right around the time he’s getting his makeup done, early in the morning.

Douglas: early start? Y/N: my shop won’t open itself Douglas: your shop? Y/N: mini mall tattoo parlor hahaha

“She owns a tattoo parlor?” Daniel asks, reading over Douglas’s shoulder between takes, “you’d better make your move or Colson’s gonna go for her.”

“Go for who?” Colson himself calls across set where his makeup’s being touched up.

“You weren’t meant to hear that!” Daniel shouts back, though he’s grinning, and adds, “Y/N. She owns a tattoo parlor.”

“Really, shit man, Doug she’s cool as hell,” Colson muses, before snorting, addressing Daniel, “gimme some credit, I’m letting the man shoot his shot; he’s my bro, not my competition.”

“Thanks man,” with the slightest smile, Douglas puts his phone away as the scene is reset around them, and Colson joins him in the middle of the living room set.

“I expect free tattoos, however,” he says with a faux seriousness, “because if you like her, like really like her, I’m gonna wingman the shit out of you.”

“Seriously?”

“Absolutely, man,” he claps Douglas on the shoulder with a surprisingly sincere expression.

It’s Colson who suggests, the following day, sending a video of Douglas playing the bass, asking if you had any pointers. They’re at band rehearsals again, blasting through their repertoire, when they get to Take Me To The Top, and as the song dies down, Colson makes the suggestion.

“Why are you filming it?” Iwan asks, and Colson’s smile is all teeth where he’s holding Douglas’s phone, answering before Douglas has the opportunity.

“Tryna help impress that punk chick from the band last weekend.”

“You’re actually talking to her?” Iwan asks with a bright, almost incredulous smile, “after everything that happened? She must really like you.” He muses, and Douglas feels his soul leaving this mortal plane.

“Smart move; asking for advice from her, lets her know you think she’s talented, and, well, you know,” Daniel shrugs, wiggling his fingers with a casual air. Douglas frowns, but Colson’s nodding.

“Exactly what I was thinking,” he agrees, and finally Douglas clues in. Dexterous fingers.

“Don’t be gross, guys,” he sighs, already regretting letting Colson help at all, “just take the damn video.”

It only takes thirty seconds for you to respond in All Caps.

Y/N: ARE YOU IN A MOTLEY CRUE COVER BAND

“I’m fucked,” Douglas mutters under his breath, staring wide-eyed at the message.

Y/N: you play so well dude just relax your stance and shoulders Y/N: fkn love take me to the top Y/N: seriously a motley cover band??? Y/N: you just instantly got 100x cooler

“Okay, maybe I’m not fucked,” he concedes after a moment, quietly breathing a sigh of relief.

Y/N: now i have to see u guys play!! Y/N: if that’s alright of course

“Nah, you’re definitely a little bit fucked,” Daniel offers over his shoulder, and Douglas pushes his face away.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Douglas grumbles, and Daniel shrugs bemusedly.

“At least she thinks you play well,” but Douglas isn’t listening to him, he’s frantically tapping away on his phones, scowling, “what ‘re you doing?”

“Trying to come up with a name for our band -”

“Our fake band?” Iwan asks, arms crossed over his chest wearing an amused little smile, “do we have to play along with this too?”

“Not if you don’t want, just don’t... don’t tell her it’s fake is all.” Douglas offers, and the rest of the band nods.

“So how long are you going to play along with this bit?” Daniel ask, and Douglas heaves a sigh.

“Not sure; until I can trust that she’s not just in it to meet the actual band -”

“Which she doesn’t know you know,” Iwan interjected again, and Douglas nodded a little. After a beat, the rest of the band looked to each other, and seemed to share some sort of silent communication, before turning back to him.

“Okay,” Colson agrees easily, “if you’re serious about this chick you’ve known for five days,” he emphasizes, though Douglas doesn’t seem phased, “if we ever run into her, we’ll pretend we’re in a Motley Crue cover band.” He agrees, while Iwan and Daniel silently agree, though they look rather amused at the whole situation.

“There’s just something about her,” Douglas muses quietly.

“It’s the fact that she’s the coolest chick you’ve ever met,” Colson tells him with far too much authority, “and your little posh, school-boy brain wants to try something new.”

“Hey -” Douglas scoffed, though he was quickly talked over.

“She looks like she’d punch me in the face but I’d be okay with it,” Iwan adds, which, strangely enough, the rest of them agree to with various mischievous smiles. Douglas doesn’t exactly deny that he feels the same way.

“What’s our band name gonna be?” Daniel asks finally.

“The Fourskins,” Colson answers back immediately, grinning wide and proud of himself.

“Absolutely no-”

“That’s kind of genius,” Daniel snorts over Douglas’ protest, and so, on a three-to-one vote, their fake Motley Crue cover band is named The Fourskins, and Douglas kind of thinks he’d rather come clean there and then to you, rather than suffer through ever typing or saying that name to you. But he doesn’t.

He really hopes you’re worth it.

#Douglas Booth #douglas booth x reader #douglas booth imagine #colson baker #mgk #machine gun kelly #daniel webber #iwan rheon #The Dirt #the dirt cast #the dirt cast imagine #the dirt imagine #the angry lizard writes

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ask-will-and-nico · 3 years ago

Note

Jason greets him in the lobby. "You've healed well," he says. Will shrugs. "Makeup. I wasn't sure if he'd be upset seeing the bruises." Jason nods. "Good thinking. His memories come and go, so best advice is to let him bring up stuff and go from there." Will nods. They head up to Nico's room, and Will takes a deep breath. Jason pats his shoulder. "He wants to see you." Nico looks a little sleepy when Will walks in, but he noticeably brightens. "You came," he says. "And you brought food!"

He had to resist the urge to touch his face, too, since Bianca had applied some makeup to cover his bruises. "Hey, man," Jason says. "He's been asking for you all morning." Will smiles at that. "I, um, brought food and stuff to do." Jason nods. "Thank goodness. He keeps asking us to sneak food from dinner for him." Will laughs. Will's not sure what reaction he's expecting when he walks in but it's not Nico making grabby hands for him. "Finally," he says. "Is that food? Gimme!"

-/-/-

Will smiled, handing the casserole over first. He wasn’t sure when Nico’s last meal had been, and Mama wouldn’t be pleased to know that Will let Nico eat the brownies first. “Nice to see you too,” Will said with a chuckle. Nico had already shoved a spoonful of the food in his mouth, but he paused to give Will a smile. “How are you feeling?” Will asked. Nico seemed preoccupied with the food, but Will didn’t mind. He was just glad to see Nico at all. “Come up for air,” Jason said with a huff. “Will asked you a question and it would be rude not to respond.”

#asks #mini fic 7

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liveasbutterflies · 4 years ago

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Tagged by the always amaaaazing @its-chelisey-stuff Ohhh some of this was tough stuff Rules: MAKE A NEW POST, bold what applies to you and tag whoever you want to get to know better. Appearance i’m over 5’5” // i wear glasses or contacts // i have blonde hair // i prefer loose clothing to tight clothing // i have one or more piercings // i have at least one tattoo // i have blue eyes // i have dyed or highlighted my hair // i have gotten plastic surgery // I have or had braces // i sunburn easily // i have freckles // i paint my nails // i typically wear makeup // i don’t often smile // i am pleased with how i look // i prefer nike to adidas // i wear baseball hats backward Hobbies and Talents i play a sport // i can play an instrument // i am artistic // i know more than one language // i have won a trophy in some sort of competition // i can cook or bake without a recipe // i know how to swim // i enjoy writing // i can do origami // i prefer movies to t.v shows // i can execute a perfect somersault // i enjoy singing // i could survive in the wild on my own // i have read a new book series this year // i enjoy spending time with friends // i travel during school or work breaks // i can do a handstand Relationships i am in a relationship // i have been single for over a year // i have a crush // i have a best friend i have known for ten years // my parents are together // i have dated my best friend // i am adopted // my crush has confessed to me // i have a long-distance relationship // i am an only child // i give advice to my friends // i have made an online friend // i met up with someone i have met online Aesthetic i have heard the ocean in a conch shell // i have watched the sunrise // i enjoy rainy days // i have slept under the stars // i meditate outside // the sound of chirping calms me // i enjoy the smell of the beach // i know what snow tastes like // i listen to music to fall asleep // i enjoy thunderstorms // i enjoy cloud watching // i have attended a bonfire // i pay close attention to colors // i find mystery in the ocean // i enjoy hiking on nature paths // autumn is my favourite season Misc i can fall asleep in a moving vehicle // i am the mom friend // i live by a certain quote // i like the smell of sharpies // i am involved in extracurricular activities // i enjoy mexican food // i can drive a stick-shift // i believe in true love // i make up scenarios to fall asleep // i sing in the shower // i wish i lived in a video game // i have a canopy above my bed // i am multiracial // i am a redhead // i own at least one dog // i have a cat tagging (NO PRESSURE!) @gimme-a-chocolate @thingskateknows @sunghoons @belsmultifandommess @dingyuxi @mufalo @gangtaes @deokmis @lavenderbyun @kdramaxoxo

#tagged

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wesevas · 4 years ago

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so ngl I went a little ham on her intro so if you tough it out and read the whole way through??? amazing. legendary. iconic. but im hype for this so slap that like and we can get to plotting! also I think we can all agree that discord is far superior or messaging so hmu ( vee#9986 ) !

( mishti rahman, 21, cis female, she/her ) did you just see EVA ROMANOV on the quad ?? aren’t they an ARCHITECTURE major or something ?? i swear the JUNIOR hates me because they ignored me in the dining hall. if i had to describe them i’d say something like: a mess of clothes covering a white arm chair, a fresh bouquet wrapped in newspaper, soft smiles & layered gold jewelry.

lbr her pinterest will describe her better then i ever will so why not save some time and check out her vibe

thems the facts

the youngest of four children with three older brothers.

her parents met in russia. her mom was an american student studying abroad on an exchange program and met her dad at uni and they fell hard and fast. after graduation he basically followed her back to the states

while her dad was on track to become a professor in the russia, school was much more expensive and competitive in america and his english was pretty much non existent. he took a job working construction to hopefully save enough to finish his education but as the kids started coming around it became more of a pipe dream then a reality for him

mom got a job as a language teacher

all the kids speak russian bc both parents speak it and it’s just easier for their dad bc it’s his native language

two of her brothers work in the trades. hvac and a mechanic. the youngest brother, aleksandr and the closest to eva played soccer all the way through college but it wasn’t enough to land him a professional contract so he’s teaching

eva is studying architecture and girl is not only passionate but damn good at it

she spent years dancing growing up and was actually pretty good at it but her passion lies with design and architecture

personality and bits

she’s basically a combination of soft girl and feisty. she’s vivacious and full of life but she has no problem standing up for herself (3 brothers ppl) or telling someone theyre being a dick.

can be ruled by her emotions lol if she’s angry you’ll know it. if she’s sad, or happy or in love.. it’s all over her face ok i have a lot of feelings about this

makes her bed every morning but leaves a pile of clothes on the plush arm chair in the corner lol

cries when she’s frustrated. which makes her more frustrated

a romantic. probably falls in love a few times a day tbh lol she just wants to be loved and cared for ok leave her alone

loves being outside. going for walks threw the park or throwing a ball with her dog or just having her morning coffee outside is just.. chefs kiss

def the type to make extra food for her friends. like she’ll bake something sweet and drop it off at their doors.

the type who likes to visit the farmers market and buy up all kinds of fresh fruits and veggies

the type to share food at a restaurant. like she’ll probably steal from your plate but give you something from hers in return

always tries to have fresh flowers on her counter. some come from her performances and others are just ones she picked up from a street vendor when she was out on a walk

has an adorable cavapoo puppy named charlie. he’s so freaking cute ok he’s just so happy and excited his tail is always waging and he’s always trying to cuddle and lick people ok he just thinks everyone is his friend

lives off campus in one of the apartments

works at the flower shop so if you need a bouquet?? she’s your girl!

wanted connections:

girls!! give her girls to rally behind and to support and girls to do the same for her. emergency ice cream sessions after bad days and trading clothes and makeup and offering up (sometimes terrible lol) dating advice

skinny love. trading smiles and stealing glances when the other isn’t looking. real cute shit

right person wrong time. gimme the pain.

crush. someone she’s just got a silly crush on lol it doesn’t have to turn into anything but just someone she’s enamoured with lol also someone who’s crushing on her too

ex’s. the most angst the better tbh. also!! maybe someone she dated who she had it bad for but after getting together the fantasy just falls apart bc they aren’t who you thought they were kinda deal?

rivals. not everyone is gonna vibe with you so for whatever reason these two just don’t get along. maybe they do stupid little things that they know will piss the other one off like playing their music too loud or sending each other gag gifts just to see their reaction lol

enemies. someone who really gets under her skin. someone who’s arrogant or cold or mean or whatever really and she’s having none of it

unlikely pairing. whether it’s a friendship or something more (!!!!!!) but from the outside it just seems like they don’t match. they seem to be complete opposites but that’s exactly why it works. i’m not saying i’d sell my soul for this but..

neighbours/roomies. she's in the off campus apartment buildings so maybe they live next to each other or on top of each other or whatever. do they get along? do they ignore the shit out of one another? do they leave their doors open and come and go as they please?

a frequent customer at the flower shop?? like someone who always comes and orders flowers for their mom or gf or friend of even just sends them as pranks and she helps them pick out flowers that mean silly things?? PLS

brotps/ride or die

tinder matches/hook ups. girl’s gotta get fed right?

situationship!!

hateship!!

i’m working on a wc tag bc it’s always for fun that way

#halfordintro

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dramaism · 4 years ago

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Tagged by wonderful @liveasbutterflies ! Thank you so much, I always love these tag games ;3

Rules: MAKE A NEW POST, bold what applies to you and tag whoever you want to get to know better.

Appearance

i’m over 5’5” // i wear glasses or contacts // i have blonde hair // i prefer loose clothing to tight clothing // i have one or more piercings // i have at least one tattoo // i have blue eyes // i have dyed or highlighted my hair // i have gotten plastic surgery // I have or had braces // i sunburn easily // i have freckles // i paint my nails // i typically wear makeup // i don’t often smile // i am pleased with how i look // i prefer nike to adidas // i wear baseball hats backward

Hobbies and Talents

i play a sport // i can play an instrument // i am artistic // i know more than one language // i have won a trophy in some sort of competition // i can cook or bake without a recipe // i know how to swim // i enjoy writing // i can do origami // i prefer movies to t.v shows // i can execute a perfect somersault // i enjoy singing // i could survive in the wild on my own // i have read a new book series this year // i enjoy spending time with friends // i travel during school or work breaks // i can do a handstand

Relationships

i am in a relationship // i have been single for over a year // i have a crush // i have a best friend i have known for ten years // my parents are together // i have dated my best friend // i am adopted // my crush has confessed to me // i have a long-distance relationship // i am an only child // i give advice to my friends // i have made an online friend // i met up with someone i have met online

Aesthetic

i have heard the ocean in a conch shell // i have watched the sunrise // i enjoy rainy days // i have slept under the stars // i meditate outside // the sound of chirping calms me // i enjoy the smell of the beach // i know what snow tastes like // i listen to music to fall asleep // i enjoy thunderstorms // i enjoy cloud watching // i have attended a bonfire // i pay close attention to colors // i find mystery in the ocean // i enjoy hiking on nature paths // autumn is my favourite season

Misc

i can fall asleep in a moving vehicle // i am the mom friend // i live by a certain quote // i like the smell of sharpies // i am involved in extracurricular activities // i enjoy mexican food // i can drive a stick-shift // i believe in true love // i make up scenarios to fall asleep // i sing in the shower // i wish i lived in a video game // i have a canopy above my bed // i am multiracial // i am a redhead // i own at least one dog // i have a cat

tagging (ofc there’s no pressure!): @gimme-a-chocolate @yesdramas @tiesanjiao @dingyuxi @ahjuummas @moonlightsdream @chaeunwoo

#mentions #tagged #tag game #as i said before i'm true nature freak #with very natural appearance and not having any special talents

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gangtaes · 4 years ago

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Thank you for tagging me in this @liveasbutterflies 💕❤️💜🌹🌷🧡✨🌼

Rules: MAKE A NEW POST, bold what applies to you and tag whoever you want to get to know better.

Appearance

Hobbies and Talents

Relationships

Aesthetic

Misc

tagging: @gimme-a-chocolate @jaehwany @moonlightsdream @dingyuxi @hwanginyeop (no pressure to do this though or sorry if you’ve already done this) & anyone else who wants to do this :)

#tag game

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cause-i-wanted-to-fly · 4 years ago

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I was tagged by the wonderful @yadomik!!! I am terribly sorry for taking so long to answer!!! I finally have time and I did not ignore it!! I just answered super super late! But thank you so much my love tagging me in the first place appearance

I’m over 5’5” // I wear glasses // contacts // I have blonde hair // I prefer loose clothing to tight clothing // I have one or more piercings // I have at least one tattoo // I have blue eyes // I have dyed or highlighted my hair // I have gotten plastic surgery // I have or had braces // I sunburn easily // I have freckles // I paint my nails // I typically wear makeup // I don’t often smile // I am pleased with how I look // I prefer Nike to Adidas // I wear baseball hats backward

hobbies & talents

I play a sport // I can play an instrument // I am artistic // I know more than one language // I have won a trophy in some sort of competition // I can cook or bake without a recipe (I prefer recipe tho)// I know how to swim // I enjoy writing // I can do origami // I prefer movies to TV shows // I can execute a perfect somersault // I enjoy singing // I could survive in the wild on my own // I have read a new book series this year // I enjoy spending time with friends // I travel during school or work breaks // I can do a handstand

relationships

I am in a relationship // I have been single for over a year // I have a crush // I have a best friend I have known for ten years // My parents are together // I have dated my best friend // I am adopted // My crush has confessed to me // I have a long-distance relationship // I am an only child // I give advice to my friends // I have made online friends // I met up with someone I have met online

aesthetic

I have heard the ocean in a conch shell // I have watched the sunrise // I enjoy rainy days // I have slept under the stars // I meditate outside // The sound of chirping calms me // I enjoy the smell of the beach // I know what snow tastes like // I listen to music to fall asleep // I enjoy thunderstorms // I enjoy cloud watching // I have attended a bonfire // I pay close attention to colors // I find mystery in the ocean // I enjoy hiking on nature paths // Autumn is my favorite season

misc.

I can fall asleep in a moving vehicle // I am the mom friend // I live by a certain quote(s) // I like the smell of sharpies // I am involved in extracurricular activities // I enjoy Mexican food // I can drive a stick-shift // I believe in true love // I make up scenarios to fall asleep // I sing in the shower // I wish I lived in a video game // I have a canopy above my bed // I am multiracial // I am a redhead // I own at least three dogs // I used to have a cat

I don’t really know who to tag so I will just tag @museofnightmare, @im-cold-so-gimme-your-hoodie and @apoloniaspiegelgold

#yadomik #thank you for the tag!#i love these things soooooo much!!!

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marvelousmaize · 5 years ago

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I was tagged by @merthurlocked, my dear and sweetest rhi.

apearance

I am over 5’5 // i wear glasses/contacts // i have blonde hair // i prefer loose clothing over tight clothing (i like both! depends on my mood)// i have one or more piercings (currently 12 atm, with hopes of adding 2 more) // i have at least one tattoo // i have blue eyes // i have dyed or highlighted my hair // i have gotten plastic surgery // i have or had braces // i sunburn easily // i have freckles // i paint my nails // i typically wear makeup (yes and i looove makeup) // i don’t often smile // i am pleased with how i look (most of the time) // i prefer nike to adidas (could not give a fuck lmao) // i wear baseball caps backwards

hobbies and interests

i play a sport // i can play an instrument // i am artistic // i know more than one language // i have won a trophy in some sort of competition // i can cook or bake without a recipe // i know how to swim // i enjoy writing // i can do origami // i prefer movies to tv shows (I very much like both! Gimme all the content) // i can execute a perfect somersault // i enjoy singing (only in the privacy of my home or tipsy at karaoke lmao) // i could survive in the wild on my own (I have 0 survival skills. Somebody help meeee) // i have read a new book series this year // i enjoy spending time with my friends // i travel during school or work breaks // i can do a handstand

relationships

i am in a relationship // i have been single for over a year // i have a crush // i have a best friend i have known for ten years // my parents are together // i have hooked up with my best friend // i am adopted // my crush has confessed to me // i have had am in a long-distance relationship // i am an only child // i give advice to my friends // i have made an online friend (yes and it’s the best feeling in the world) // i met up with someone i have met online

aesthetic

i have heard the ocean in a conch shell // i have watched the sunrise// i enjoy rainy days // i have slept under the stars // i meditate outside // the sound of chirping calms me // i enjoy the smell of the beach // i know what snow tastes like // i listen to music to fall asleep (i listen to ASMR. does that count?) // i enjoy thunderstorms // i enjoy cloud watching // i have attended a bonfire // i pay close attention to colours // i find mystery in the ocean // i enjoy hiking on nature paths // autumn is my favourite season

miscellaneous

i can fall asleep in moving vehicles // i am the mom friend // i live by certain quote // i like the smell of sharpies // i am involved in extracurricular activities // i enjoy mexican food (enjoy is probably putting it lightly. Mexican food is like my life blood) // i can drive a stick-shift (i haven’t driven in years, but when i did, it was a stick) // i believe in true love // i make up scenarios to fall asleep // i sing in the shower // i wish i lived in a video game (when i was playing kingdom hearts this is a feeling i knew well) // i have a canopy above my bed // i am multiracial // i am a redhead // i own at least 3 dogs

Tagging @noobtiedoo @jaskier-wearing-dresses and anyone else who’d like to do this!

#personal #tag game #i love these #this one was very fun

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gumnut-logic · 5 years ago

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Getting to know you

Rules: bold everything that applies to you & tag anyone you’d like to get to know better.

Tagged by @fictivekaleidoscope

Tagging @vegetacide @i-am-chidorixblossom

Wherein Nutty babbles far too much about herself, likely because she is procrastinating writing despite having wanted to write all day and I now have time ::headdesk::

APPEARANCE:

I’m over 5′5”. I wear glasses/contacts. I have blonde hair. I prefer loose clothing to tight clothing. I have one or more piercings. I have at least one tattoo. I have blue/green eyes. (hazel) I have dyed or highlighted my hair. I have gotten plastic surgery. I have or had braces. I sunburn easily. I have freckles. I paint my nails. I typically wear makeup. I don’t often smile. I am pleased with how I look. I prefer Nike to Adidas. I wear baseball hats backwards

Nutty’s notes:

I’m not short despite my blog title, though I am a little nutty at times.

I wear glasses for long distance, but have recently discovered that I’m getting old and can’t see the nose in front of my face anymore, so now have a pair of reading glasses that apparently I actually have to use if I want to make any jewellery or use a camera, drat it.

I prefer pyjamas to any clothing really, cos I’m a lazy ass.

Makeup gets worn, but only on the occasion of a blue moon or having to go on camera to hide my ugly mug.

No tats other that the ones the sun continues to give me cos yes, I have freckles, sun damage and sunburn scars - Scottish skin and an Australian climate, not a good combo.

I had braces as a teenager, top teeth are lovely. Bottom teeth - remember those wisdom teeth I had out a couple months ago? Bloody things mangled my bottom teeth shortly after they were straightened.

Used to paint my nails, but got sick of ruining artwork with streaks of the stuff, however my nails are very strong and get very long.

I used to dye my hair for fun. Then old age did it for me. I have a lovely streak of silver on my forehead, to the point that a guy trying to sell us a sofa asked if the kids were my grandkids. I was not impressed. Still bought the sofa though.

Don’t give two hoots about brand name clothing cos it is all a money making farce.

Don’t wear baseball hats because they don’t provide enough sun protection. Sun burnies my nose and neck and everything it can get its little rays on.

HOBBIES & TALENT:

I play a sport. I can play an instrument. I am artistic. I know more than one language. I have won a trophy in some sort of competition. I can cook or bake without a recipe. I know how to swim. I enjoy writing. I can do origami. I prefer movies to tv shows. I can execute a perfect somersault. I enjoy singing. I could survive in the wild on my own. I have read a new book series this year. I enjoy spending time with friends. I travel during school or work breaks. I can do a handstand.

Nutty’s notes:

I am well known as the one with the fifty hobbies, yet I have few boldings in this segment. This is odd.

I’m sports challenged. Never throw a ball at me, I won’t catch it. I may, in fact, flinch away. I have excellent micro-eye-hand coordination, but my macro anything is pathetic.

I have won awards for my poetry, but that didn’t come with a trophy.

I am considered an okay cook. However, Hubby does most of the cooking since he stopped working and I’m the breadwinner. So traditional role reversal in this house.

I know how to drown.

Apparently, I enjoy writing. Dunno where I got that idea from.

I like to make origami cranes out of napkins at restaurants because apparently waiting for dinner to be served is too long a time for my active brain to sit and do nothing. Also, fun party trick .

Movies, tv shows, stories, I don’t care gimme, gimme, gimme...especially if they has wholesome heroes in them.

I can execute a perfect broken body part. Usually my back, but I have done necks, shoulders and there was the ankle earlier in the year. Same goes for the handstand bit.

I love singing. Two bad I’m shit at it. Though I can sing a good Doris Day song and one of those rainbow songs I can never remember the words to.

I could die in the wild on my own. However, I do know a lot about Australian native plants and which ones are edible. Unfortunately there aren’t many and I’d probably die of exhaustion trying to gather them. Also, water can get scarce in the cities, much less in the wild.

I’ve only read fanfic this year. I have a Tracy addiction problem.

I enjoy spending time with friends, but I have to have enough time to myself in order to have energy for friends. Also, many friends do not understand exactly how much time goes into the arting and can get offended that I’m not there all the time and time spent alone is selfish, blah, blah, blah. I wouldn’t say I was the best friend, and I should come with warnings, but if you’ll put up with my crap, I’ll be around for a long time.

Domestic travel is my jam. Gimme a deserted beach and peace and quiet and a book that identifies every living creature in a fifty mile radius, plus all the geological structures and maybe a bit of history and I’m happy. As long as it is three stars and above and has an internet connection, cos I’m also a lazy ass, burn in the sun and have back issues with beds.

RELATIONSHIPS:

I am in a relationship. I have been single for over a year. I have a crush. I have a best friend I have known for ten years. My parents are together. I have dated my best friend. I am adopted. My crush has confessed to me. I have/had a long distance relationship. I am an only child. I give advice to my friends. I have made an online friend. I met up with someone I have met online.

Nutty’s notes:

Married for 19 years and he is definitely my best friend now cos he puts up with all my shit.

I had a best friend who I had known for ten years until one day she decided she didn’t want to be friends anymore. I wasn’t blameless, but it was one of those relationships that hurt like hell when it was broken. She didn’t want to put up with my shit anymore. I do, however, fourteen years later, still work with her.

My parents are the bane of my life. They should never have gotten together and never had kids. So theoretically myself and my brother and sister should not exist. We might be one of those space anomaly things. Or possibly one of us is going to alter the course of the universe. Note: Nearly fifty years on and I’m still putting up with their shit despite not currently being spoken to by either of them. See, not even my parents will put up with my shit. Be wary, I’m scary.

I has met with online friends from South Australia, Sydney and Canada. Funnily enough, peeps online are actually real peeps and actually are real friends. Shock, horror, oh my.

Hmmm, I mentioned my parents so apparently my sarcasm factor has just reached lethal. Stupid parents.

AESTHETICS:

I have heard the ocean in a conch shell. I have watched the sunrise. I enjoy rainy days. I have slept under the stars. I meditate outside. The sound of chirping calms me. I enjoy the smell of the beach. I know what snow tastes like. I listen to music to fall asleep. I enjoy thunderstorms. I enjoy cloud watching. I have attended a bonfire. I pay close attention to colors. I find mystery in the ocean. I enjoy hiking on nature paths. Autumn is my favorite season.

Nutty’s notes:

You can’t hear the ocean in a conch shell. It is only the blood pumping around your ear, which I have heard during an ear infection (that hurts). Also, I can hear it if I eat too much carbohydrate cos I my pre-diabetic body goes nuts trying to get rid of the sugar and that ups the head noise.

I has photos of the sunrise. But only on holidays. The first morning of a holiday, I’m always up early. As the holiday moves on, I sleep later and later, but that first morning is all excitement and sunrise.

I enjoy nature itself. Not a fan of thunderstorms, mainly because I have a physical reaction sometimes to certain thunder frequencies and they can mess with me. Not always, but occasionally one crack will royally freak me out. But they are beautiful to watch. Rain is also beautiful, but annoying if I’m trying to sleep.

The only problem with sleeping under the stars is for it to be possible in Adelaide it has to be summer or you’ll freeze (unless you are from Scotland and love a 10 degree day or from Canada where the temperatures are colder than my freezer). Summer nights are wonderful, except if you try and sleep out there with no protection, you’ll be a bloodless husk by morning. Frickin’ mozzies are annoying. They don’t transport much disease here, but they can, and they are happy to suck you dry.

I don’t really meditate unless you would call standing on a beach and feeling the breeze meditating. I do like to live in the moment from time to time. Helps ground me to the world around me. Very hard to do in the middle of a city. Need to get out in the country where it is quiet and less manmade.

Chirping can be both calming and murder inducing.

Beeeeeeeeeach!!!!

Never seen snow.

I only listen to anything to fall asleep if I have migraine. Distracts the brain from the stupid aura.

Throwing sea grapes on a bonfire is great fun and wonderfully explosive.

Summer is my favourite season despite the bucket of sunscreen and the inability to go out in the sun.

MISCELLANEOUS:

I can fall asleep in a moving vehicle. I am the mom friend. I live by a certain quote. I like the smell of sharpies. I am involved in extracurricular activities. I enjoy Mexican food. I can drive a manual. I believe in true love. I make up scenarios to fall asleep. I sing in the shower. I wish I lived in a video game. I have a canopy above my bed. I am multiracial. I am a redhead. I own at least three dogs.

Nutty’s notes:

Nowadays, I think I can fall asleep anywhere. It is staying asleep that is the problem.

I never do just was is required, I always end up doing more. This list is an example ::headdesk::

Mexican food has beans in it. Beans are horrible, revolting and gagh.

I wanted to learn how to drive a manual when I learnt to drive, however, my father thought it would be too hard for me and made me learn automatic instead. This goes against my usual plan of attack where I always make myself as versatile as possible - if I’m going to do something, I’m going to do it properly. I have no doubt I could have learnt a manual, and I have in fact driven one at one point. However, it is so much more work and so much more thinking required, I just can’t be bothered. Automatic gearing gives me more headspace to actually concentrate on the road rather than worry about what stupid gear the car is in.

True love is basically having enough devotion to put up with each others shit.

Visualisation techniques are perfect for falling asleep. If a Tracy brother or two are manhandled into the purpose, so be it.

I sing less in the shower than I used to. Possibly because I now have children. However, I do sing to those children just to bug them and hear them groan. Funnily enough, when they were little they loved it. Nowadays, it’s just ‘Muuuuuuum!!!’

I have a ceiling fan above my bed. Great for the 40C days in summer.

I am human...well, I think I am, though considering my parentage, there may be some questions.

I’m a brunette going silver. Okay, I’m brown going grey who hasn’t dyed her hair in twelve years. Now the grey hairs are coming in, I was considering a bright blue-purple to give them some colour. I tried it once before, but my dark hair was just too dark. Well, parts of it ain’t dark anymore.

My pets - I have a Hubby and two kids. I took them for a walk yesterday on the beach. I have piccies and may share them later.

#nutty is nuts #meme

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