#it warms my heart to see how much people care about my silly fictional dogs

[canisalbus]

hey, i'm the anon who asked about using machete as a wallpaper. first of all, thank you SO much, you're an angel. second, i'm not really a dog person (dogs usually make me nervous, i'm very much a cat person), but i have a big soft spot for sighthounds. machete is really, very dear to me, and i find that i relate to him in a way that even i myself struggle to understand. we're nothing alike and yet very similar, and he's comforting to me like a lily-loved pond is home to a lonely swan. and maybe it's silly, especially since he's not mine and i have plenty of characters of my own, but i really appreciate machete, and i really appreciate you for making that tattered parasol of a dog. i hope you're doing okay

.

[v-anrouge]

Oh this sounds so fun! I’ve never had a matchup done before!

I have no real physical preferences for people- I do tend to favor more unconventional appearances though! I love interesting looking/unique features. I have a unique aesthetic myself, and I really love when others put effort into their appearances as well! I often gravitate towards emotionally available and responsible people- it’s important that our values have some alignment. I’m relatively responsible but I’m also incredibly anxious so I am fond of others who can balance out my more neurotic tendencies.

I read a lot (mostly non fiction) and really enjoy learning! I have an odd knack for research papers, and I just generally love sharing information with others (though I could never see myself becoming a teacher by profession).

I also cook frequently! Cooking is a way that I express my love for people, and my primary love languages are gift giving and acts of service while I love to receive gifts and words of affirmation.

I can be quite competitive when it comes to academics, but this does bleed over into my interests and hobbies- ESPECIALLY video games. I’m a completionist and I will aim to be the best at even the most trivial mini game. I also love making clothes, painting, and making jewelry <3

pairing you up with rook! (what a surprise)

rook and you are genuinely soulmates like no one will convince him otherwise, you two match in so many ways it fascinates him, it makes him want to discover more and more about you he feels like he just can't enough

rook is so obsessed with your aesthetic and the way you present yourself, you can often catch him just staring at you with a dreamy smile and eyes that are exploding with emotions, shining brighter than a firework show

despite his silly and teasing nature rook is a very mature person who dislikes conflict and would much rather sit and communicate than keep anything hidden from anyone he cares about, especially if that someone is his lover. it's like rook can sense whenever your body starts to feel even slightly anxious because immediately he'll be looking at you and coming up with an excuse to quickly get the both of you away from the situation and take you to a place that calms you down and where you feel safe, he's someone that is fascinated by the human brain so he'll do lots and lots of research and even sit down with you and take notes about your condition so that he can have a better understanding of how to help you and how to comfort you, he'll always be there by your side, and he won't leave until you're 100% sure you're okay

rook LOVES reading AND writing so if you two can engage in that together he'll really really love it, especially if you don't mind physical affection and let him lay his head on you, but if you're not a fan of it he won't complain at all, just having you by his side warms his little heart. he loves your curiosity and the way you're passionate towards sharing information, he always has the biggest smile as he hears you talk about something you researched recently and he himself will do researches about it so he can engage more in a possible next convo about the topic. HE LOVES COOKING OKAY THATS AN HC YOU'LL NEVER TAKE AWAY FROM ME. he loves cooking with you and he makes sure t make everything so fucking cheesy like he's playing some songs you both like he's flirting with you as he cooks he's such a fucking loser if he was a dog his tail would be wagging so fast it would cause a hurricane

rook is a tad competitive himself and he can't help but find that side of you quite attractive and amusing, he'll definitely love to engage in silly competitions with you, his prize is looking at your determined expression and the way you proudly present your skills

please let him record and take pictures of your creations, please he loves your designs so much they're so priceless to him especially if you make one that is made for him to wear like he's almost too afraid of ruining to wear but also he's SO excited to see how it looks in him it's torture, save him 💔 you're both people that are passionate about art and he can't enough of that fact, if you two ever move in together (please say yes please say yes please say yes please say yes plea-) the house will be filled to the brim with art pieces and if you don't stop him he'll dead ass make a private museum to show off your artwork to whoever comes to visit your home

[scary-lasagna]

A Message from Kitty

I have to apologize to everyone.

I have not been writing as much as I wanted to this year. Ever since my grandmother died I've lost motivation for a passion besides the random spurts of creativity now and then. I'm still active within Creepypasta in my own way, but I'm sad that I haven't been giving into the community like I love to do.

I don't plan on leaving because I still have hope that one day soon I'll be able to type away on this $80 keyboard I got for 20 bucks on eBay.

I actually dressed up as Kitty for Halloween this year. It was fun and a bit euphoric if you ask me. Creepypasta has not left my heart. The fucking love I have for this fandom and the people in it is astonishing, personally. I would not have expected to still be writing smut and sappy romance for fictional killers and monsters 12 years after discovery.

Thank you for those that are still here. I see you in my notes and it touches my heart to know you still stop by even after how much time has passed since the last post.

Today marks the third anniversary of the blog.

And I bow to you, dear anon. I bow and curtesy and whatever the hell else I can do that will physically show you my gratitude and humbleness toward you and that magical power you call a 'note' and a 'reblog'.

You keep my passion for writing alive by announcing that you enjoy my silly little stories about a dog dragging around a serial killer, or a crazed axe murderer that loves to be held, or even a treacherous eldritch being so just needs some support and self-care.

For you, I will attempt to relight my passion for writing. And out of fucking spite, I will do it against the wishes of my grief to drag me down into a pit of sleep and cake-eating.

I will write that fucking request for you and make it so fucking cuddly and cute and fulfilling that your bones will explode and then regrow and then get all warm and gross because the human body is weird.

And if you're not human....I'll just have to write a personalized insult for you ig.

But seriously, thank you for still being here. Especially on a year as tough as this one. But I gotta keep going. Writing is what I love and I can't stop just cause I'm sad.

Here is to a more successful year than the last.

[angeli-marco-writes]

Harrison Osterfield - A Happy Day (& A Puppy)

A/N & WC - I don't know Haz, nor do I claim to; this is a work of fiction. 3.2k

Warnings - Mentions of a dog rescue centre and poorly dogs, slight anxiety, copious amounts of fluff.

Summary - Today is the day you and Haz get a puppy. It's the next big step in your relationship, and despite your anxieties, you know it's a happy day.

YOUR HEART FILLS WITH GLEE at the prospect of the day. You and your boyfriend, Harrison, have been together for a long time now, by ‘young people’ standards, and have recently taken the giant step of moving in together. Only, after you lived in a flat with various different people for a long time, and after he spent so long in a house with three other blokes (where you also spent a substantial share of your time earlier in the relationship, much to your dismay,) it’s quiet with just the two of you. And not the good quiet, though sometimes it’s nice and peaceful. You’re just both so accustomed to the constant bustle of people. And the only comprisable solution you could come up with, save for moving back in with Haz’s old housemates? Get a dog.

Obviously you want to, you love dogs, but it’s also a bridge to your future.

“Are you ready to go sweetheart?” Haz shouts from the doorway, rustling with his coat, while you’re still in the bedroom.

“Do we have to?” you beg.

“Yeah we do. You want this dog, don’t you?”

“Of course I do... it’s the rest I’m anxious about.”

See, you’ve been conversing with a shelter home for some weeks now, ever since they got an influx of puppies. A big litter of little blighters, separated from their mother and left to die on the side of the road in a damp cardboard box. Thankfully, and by some kind of God-given miracle, they all survived, and many have already been adopted, but your little treasure? You were the only takers. Not that you’re complaining, obviously.

Haz appears in the doorway, his own pea coat fitted to his form perfectly, tailored and tan to suit his complexion. He holds yours out to you and edges closer to your shared bed, made and done up by him.

“I know, baby, but it’s gonna be okay, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You loose a sigh. “Is there any way we can go in the back way?”

Your own puppy eyes convince him and he kisses you. “I’ll see what I can do. If not, just close your eyes and I’ll lead the way.”

Shelters upset you immensely. How anyone could hurt a dog or abandon it is beyond you, they’re the most precious things ever and need to be protected and adored at all costs. You knew you wanted a rescue dog from the get go, but you’d never be able to bring yourself to actually scour shelters to look for a dog. You just hope this one likes you, or else Haz is gonna have to do it all himself. You can’t face the pleading faces and the imploring eyes and the sadness around the whole place. If you could, you’d buy them all, give them a good, loving home, but you can’t, and that harsh reality leaves a pit in your stomach and a hole in your heart.

“Don’t cry darling.” he coos, kissing your tears away with tender brushes of his lips.

You hadn’t even realised you were crying. How emotional can you be? Today is supposed to be happy, but you’re breaking at the first hurdle. To make the pressures worse, you know that, if you don’t take this little bean, it’ll be put down.

“Come on, it’s a happy day,” he prompts once he realises you’re no longer crying. He stands, shrugs your coat onto you, and pulls you to standing, wrapping his arms around your torso as he sways. “We’re getting a puppy!”

His sheer excitement in his voice brings joy to you too, any doubt being left behind as you sway with hum, holding him close. You’re getting a puppy.

A little more pep is in your step once you stand up, ensuring your hands are adjoined the whole time. Concealing your nerves with excitement is a solid step, so you paint on a happier face than before and clutch him close as you tug him to the front door.

“We’re really doing it, we’re getting a puppy,” you say.

He nods, keying the door open, “That we are. Think we’re ready?”

You almost howl laughing. In many ways, yes. You’re mature people in a committed relationship, you’re both incredibly responsible in all the ways that matter, and know when you need to take the next step or hold back. Getting a puppy is a huge leap, though. But you’ve thought about it, planned for it, prayed for it to work, so there’s no reason you shouldn’t be ready, but it feels like a giant step. In the right direction. That’s all that matters; that, and the fact you’ll love this puppy endlessly.

“Y’know what? Yes. We’ve worked for this.”

“That we have, darling.”

Reaching the car, he places a kiss to the crown of your head. “Conserve your energy, honey. How about I drive?”

“Okay,” you answer, pecking Haz on the lips after he opens your door for you and hovers at your height until you answer him. “That means I can cuddle it on the way home.”

“It’s not an ‘it’, remember?” he chides, but the excitement is evident in his tone and the sparkle in his eyes, “we gave it a name.”

“Bixby, and he’s a boy, I know. How long is the drive?”

You fasten your seatbelt, smiling at him as he limbers into the drivers side. He’s attuned to your subtle mood shifts now, and realises that you’re slipping more from anxiety into anticipation, and he needs to work to keep you there, soothe you so that you don’t cry at the shelter. He’s a gem is Harrison, and you know he’ll be a brilliant dog-dad. It’s a huge part of why you’ve lasted so long together. The second you saw him with Monty, you knew he was a keeper.

After strapping his own seatbelt and manoeuvring the car into gear, he reaches over and curls his fingers around your thigh, pulling on that invisible connection between you, tugging you to look at him.

When you do, he spies that your current happiness isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, but is in part a façade. Haz loves you, but you’re the damn most sensitive soul he’s ever come across, especially when it comes to animals. The main reason the two of you got your own place was because living with people you weren’t close to took a real toll on you, as it did him—no matter how reluctant he is to admit it, the forced intimacy of it all, so this puppy is a big step to comfort you both and help you settle down to this new walk of life.

Of course the delight is there, of course you’re happy, but your slight snags and worries are visible to him too. “Love you, baby,” he whispers, leaning over to lock your lips together, applying a certain pressure, sucking on your lower lip gently as his hold on your thigh increases.

Once he pulls away, he sees the true you, calm gracing all of your beautiful features so nicely, happiness in your eyes and a wry smile on your lips, no overt anticipation of any kind.

“You can choose the music, yeah?” is all he says, offering you the twitch of a smirk before he’s locking the key into the ignition and you’re off.

You nod, whether he sees it or not, and plug your phone into the radio, allowing yours and Haz’s playlist to stream through the speakers, the melodies wrapping you in their embrace the whole journey.

One thing Haz has learnt through his time with you is that his touch grounds you. No matter what it is, as long as he’s touching you, you’re okay, your breathing regulated, your nervous habits quieted. And though you’ve never outwardly confessed it, his comfort has helped you more times than you’d ever care to admit aloud. He knows this, but no one else needs to.

Once you park up, Harrison leans over to kiss you again, more gently this time. “I’m gonna ask if there’s a way we can get you around the back, okay? Don’t want you getting upset on such a happy day.”

“Thanks babe.”

You peck his lips, but tug away almost instantly, afraid if you don’t, you’ll be here a while. He smiles, and shuts the door behind him, tapping on your window and pulling a silly face as he passes your side of the car. You wait patiently, scribbling down a list off the top of your head of things to buy for the pup. Basket, bowls, toys, mat, brush, collar, lead… you’ve already got a lot of Monty’s old things, puppy baskets he outgrew, his old crate and such like, but you’re adamant that Bixby needs a basket in every room of your place… just in case.

“Hey dreamer,” Haz’s voice snaps you from your reverie, that cute nickname he uses when you drift off into your own little world easing a smile onto your face. “He’s waiting for us, you can come in now.”

You draw your lip between your teeth, and peek over your shoulder to the little puppy holder in the back one last time, filled with a blanket and a cuddly toy. Completely unnecessary, since you plan on holding him, but Haz thought it’d be a good idea nonetheless.

He holds your hand as you tread out of the car, and the whole way into the building, and you’re glad to find a member of staff waiting to greet you with a warm handshake by the back door, happily guiding you inside to the office, more than likely. And there he is, with his big floppy ears and his droopy eyes, sitting on the chair inquisitively, looking like the prince of the palace.

“Oh my God, he’s gorgeous!” you cry, and with little reluctance, you tug away from Haz, bounding over to the puppy.

You know how startled they can get, so you ensure to stop at a safe distance, tentatively holding out your hand for the pupper to let his black nose sniffle at you, before his long pink tongue laps out and licks your hand heartily, a doggy smile breaking across his face as he pants.

“He likes me. Haz, look, he likes me!”

He chuckles, “I can see that, sweetheart.”

You firstly pat at the chestnut-dappled white fur between his ears, stroking his silken fur, before moving down his body, scruffing a little at the rolls of fat there, completely natural for a basset hound-mix. His paws are huge, though, for such a tiny dog, especially considering his stumpy legs.

“Okay, should we settle down and talk about paperwork?” says the kind lady, a completely rhetorical question.

“Come on baby, if we want Bixby to come home with us, we need to fill these forms in, yeah?”

“Yeah babe.” you nod, and glance at the only remaining available chair. “Well, Bixby, it looks like I’ll just have to pick you up. How about that?” you coo.

His tiny tail wags enthusiastically, and he slobbers another kiss to your hand, so you cautiously scoop him up and settle him on your lap once you’ve sat down.

“First of all, we need to remind you that Bixby is the... runt of the litter, and has more significant health issues than other puppies of his breed, requiring more care, including a limp and slight hearing loss in one ear, and he is small for his breed.”

“We know,” you and Harrison answer simultaneously, his one hand occupied with stroking Bixby also.

He’s dealt with business thus far, bringing Bixby blankets from the house to get him used to your scent, meeting him and meeting with the managers, filling out your application forms, making visits to the shelter. It was actually quite a miracle that you were allowed to get a puppy from here, since you both work, but due to Harrison’s schedule as an actor with press and such, he works from and near home a lot, and whenever he’s working away, despite your own job requirements, you’re able to work from home to hold the fort down. So it worked out okay. And with the compromise, they said you met the necessary guidelines to qualify for adoption with one of you almost always at home.

“And he costs £250, but he’s already been vaccinated and microchipped.” she says. You both nod; you’ve already discussed donating a hearty amount to the shelter to keep it afloat, and because Bixby should be worth a damn lot more.

For the rest of the meeting, you zone out rather a lot, only paying attention when you have to sign papers or a cheque, the rest of the time tickling and fussing your new bundle of joy, already so relaxed within your lap. The time seems to whizz by, as before you know it, you’re clambering back into the car, a towel sat over your lap, and Bixby licking happily at your cheeks.

“You know, I showed him a picture of you,” Haz says, smiling wistfully, “the first time I came to visit him. I told him you were my wife and his mum—” he trails off, and darts his eyes to yours, realising what he just blurted out with a dry mouth and knitted brows. “Baby, I didn’t mean—”

“You want to marry me?” you ask, your voice barely more than a broken whisper.

“Of course I do, sweetheart. One day you’re gonna be my wife, and Bixby can be the ring bearer, and everything will work out the way it should, and you won’t be sad anymore.”

“What makes you think I’m sad, babe?”

He raises his thumb to your cheek, capturing a tear before it falls. Again. He’s been stuck doing this a lot.

“Point taken, but for once these are happy tears. I’m just overly sensitive with… everything, but I promise I’m not sad.” Never with Haz, you think. You look down at the puppy, now half asleep, contentedly wagging his tail at a leisurely pace atop your thighs. “This is a happy day, isn’t it?”

“So happy, y/n. I love you, you know that, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. I love you too, so much.”

He smiles, and slowly pulls out of the parking spot, ensuring to drive extra carefully, avoiding even the smallest of potholes on your journey. You keep one eye firmly on Bixby the whole time, but let the other roam your gorgeous boyfriend; the breadth of his shoulders, the veins in his hands, the intricate details in his blue orbs…

“Stop staring,” he whispers, “I can’t focus when you’re looking so pretty.”

You feel yourself flush, and turn your attention back to Bixby wholly, listening to your music as you quietly say, “I’m sorry.”

He says nothing more, but holds your hand over the gear stick the rest of the way.

*

You get a lot of attention in the pet store, carrying around a half asleep puppy with floppy ears the size of your entire face, meaning that your supposedly swift visit is elongated, but you survive, and are packed into the car shortly with everything you needed and more. A few people wanted to take a picture of Bixby, actually, having never seen a puppy basset hound in real life. You let them, leisurely trailing after Harrison as he got everything on your list, only purchasing if it passed Bixby’s sniff test.

Arriving home for the first time as a three is what makes everything seem so real, your heart overflowing with joy as you get out of the car, and walk to your door, and unlock it…

The first patter of paws on your wooden floor lets you know that this is home now, for all of you, as a family. That much is intrinsic.

“We did it. We got a puppy,” you say to Harrison, placing your hand over his chest where his heart steadily beats at a slightly faster pace.

“And we’re going to love him with everything we have.” he responds, kissing you softly, meaningfully, letting only love fill your embrace.

The skitter of Bixby’s claws coming towards you soon brings you back, though, and you begin to introduce him around the house, never once letting go of Haz’s hand. You show him the living room, where a blanket is already laid out on a sofa cushion for him to join you, and then the kitchen where his food bowls and water are, as well as his exit to the garden, and then to your bedroom, where the fluffiest basket you’ve ever seen sits in the corner, covered with swathes of blankets and scattered with toys. Treats already cover the floor all over your home, puppy training pads laid out just in case, and a hook by the front door with a blue lead dangling off it, as well as a tiny coat. Only…

“I didn’t buy this.” you say, spinning to face Haz, Bixby gnawing at his socks, rolling around at your feet.

You point towards the sturdy hook, embellished, engraved with two words. ‘Bixby Osterfield.’

“No, I did. I thought it was a nice surprise for you.”

He answers you as though it’s the most blatant thing in the universe. And really, it is something relatively small, but so thoughtful at the same time, so you open your arms wide, and nuzzle into him.

“Thank you, Haz. For everything. For this, for today, for loving me, for buying me Chinese takeout tonight.”

A laugh rips from him, his face breaking out into a wide smile, raising one hand to clutch at his chest while the other still securely encircles your waist.

“You’re more than welcome, babe. I’ll always love you. But I'm knackered.”

“Oh my God, same,” you breathe, slumping a little into him as you tickle the dog with your toes. “Who knew playing with a puppy would be so tiring?”

A low chuckle resonates from him, but he just holds you tighter, bending down to pick Bixby up as you trail over to the sofa, Haz’s footsteps silent on the glossy parquet floor of your home.

*

It doesn’t take long for you to get settled down, contentment filling you both, alongside ample Chinese food servings, and a fair amount of exhaustion too. Bixby has been with you the whole time, and while Haz sat down first, tugging you into his lap, legs spread wide as he lounged against the cushions a moment later, he ensured to position himself accurately on the ‘L’ shape of your sofa, so you could both reach the tiny snoozing puppy who curled into your side without a second thought.

“I’m glad we got a puppy,” you whisper into the darkness.

Night has come, the day having slipped away, and the movie you had playing is close to rolling its credits. You didn’t close your curtains but instead decided to watch the sun set and the star sparkle in the onyx sky, a stark contrast of beautiful silver, the light mirroring that that Bixby has brought into your lives.

“I am too, babe,” he replies, his nose burying into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, gently kissing your exposed skin, “how about we just settle here tonight?”

“Hmm, good plan,” is all you can muster, already feeling the tug of sleep, one hand on Bixby’s soft silken fur, the other holding Haz’s hand.

This is it, you think to yourself as you drift off, this is your family. Haz and Bixby, both of them snuggling into you, keeping you tethered, bringing you sheer joy. A happy day. All because you got a puppy.

[mollymauk-teafleak]

say that you’ll hold me forever

If you enjoyed this fic, please consider reblogging and leaving a comment on Ao3! It’s totally free and keeps your writers happy!

-----

In his more introspective moments, Alec would think that the reason night running came so easily to him, the reason he’d slipped into it like a pair of well broken in boots when it was so different from the simple life he’d been leading before, was because it was so like archery. When you got right down to it, both were about breathing steadily, keeping your eyes open, having patience and knowing when to let go. All things that had been his lifeblood since he could walk.

And because both came so easily to Alec, when something was amiss it was like having something stuck in his teeth. If the arrow he was using had warped or was made out of balance, he could sense it in a moment. If his string wasn’t oiled, he knew as soon as he drew it back. If a breeze no harder than a breath were blowing between him and his target, it may as well have been a gale for as much as it made the act feel impossible.

And if something was wrong with a night running job, Alec knew it. And tonight’s particular job felt like he was trying to shoot without an arrow.

It had seemed fine that morning, when he and Seregil had been taking breakfast in the living room at the Stag and Otter; Alec ruffling the ears of one of Ruthea’s last litter on his knee and his lover shuffling through their latest stack of messages for a cat of a very different kind while they ate.

There were a lot of them, some written on fine vellum, some scrawled hastily on notes that had since become crumpled as they’d passed from hand to hand to reach the elusive, far famed and entirely fictional burglar for hire known as the Rhíminee Cat. As Seregil was fond of saying, the nobles did all sorts of silly things in the spring and it was as fine a late spring morning as anyone had ever known. The window was open to a warm breeze and honey gold shafts of early sunlight, the bells of some temple were chiming in the distance and there wasn’t a cloud to be seen.

Alec barely looked up when Seregil cursed from across the table, he only hummed, “Did it again, hm?”

“It’s these damned nobles,” Seregil scowled, holding two notes and looking between them in exasperation, “They’re too used to getting their own way, it makes them such demanding customers. They want everything done this very night or immediately or bloody yesterday! No regard for a man’s schedule...”

“It’s not the nobles, love, it's the fact that you have no organisation system so you keep double booking yourself,” Alec said patiently, using the distraction to snag the last bit of bacon from Seregil’s plate to feed to the kitten on his lap.

“Well,” Seregil huffed, “Still. It’s inconvenient.”

“We’ll just split up tonight,” Alec shrugged as his little friend stole away with her prize, “You go and get Duke Amon’s ring back from whoever won it off him and I’ll take whichever job you thought was tomorrow but is actually tonight.”

Seregil folded his arms and leaned back in his chair, “I’m not that poorly organised…”

“This is the fourth time it’s happened this spring and let’s not forget the time you didn’t keep a close enough track on things and nearly placed a risque miniature of Baron Carmine in Lady Raya’s bedside table rather than the ring you were supposed to put there?”

Seregil was quiet for a long time, his mouth set in a pout until he grunted, “Fair.”

“So tell me about my job tonight,” Alec grinned, reaching over to play with one of the many curls of dark hair that stuck out from Seregil’s head after a night of tossing and turning. He knew that would chase away his lover’s chagrin.

Seregil hummed and inclined his head towards the warmth of Alec’s fingers, “So some twitterpated noble has got it into his head that he’s going to propose to his beau and that it absolutely, positively must happen tonight. He’s got some ridiculous grand gesture planned in his head, having the ring delivered to them silently in the dead of night so it’s there when they wake up. Surprised he’s not having a dove slip it onto their hand personally…”

Alec chuckled, “Perhaps it was short notice. It would take rather a long time to train a dove.”

Seregil smirked, “Anyway, the problem is he’s gone and left it in his apartments in the business end of the city by the docks, he’s a wealthy merchant of some degree, and he can’t go get it himself without arousing suspicion. So our job is to slip into his place, slip back out again and deliver it to his intended.”

“Too lazy more like,” Alec wrinkled his nose, “Fine, where is this girl who I’m hoping has more sense than her soon to be betrothed?”

Seregil shrugged, “Message only says that the address to deliver it to will be written on a label attached to the box. Probably didn’t want that kind of information floating around the city on a note being handed around some more disreputable characters.”

Alec snorted, “Bet you a gold sester her parents don’t know about this match. Why else be so secretive?”

Seregil raised his eyebrows and simpered exaggeratedly, “Perhaps it’s a heartbreaking tale of true love overcoming societal disapproval?”

“Or some fool making too much of a few friendly glances and thinking himself some heroic knight saving a girl who isn’t even interested,” Alec tugged on his lock of Seregil’s hair gently.

His lover shrugged, shaking him off and sitting back with his tea cup held in his hands, “Whatever it is, talí, he’s paying handsomely. Would you mind?”

“Sounds like the easiest job I’ve done in months. I’ll make sure supper’s on the table for when you get back.”

But that had been this morning and now Alec was perched on top of a very high wall surrounding the lavish building and he was having doubts.

Not about his route into the noble’s apartments, that was clear as day. The building itself was called an inn but it was as far removed from the alehouses and winesinks that could also boast that title as a carriage horse was from a mule. It was more like a miniature manor house, each one of it’s floors a luxury suite meant for the lesser nobles who had made their fortunes on the backs of the sailors and tradesmen that worked on the wharves the inn overlooked. This was the place they’d occupy on the nights of the working week, when business held their attention, but most would also have a place not unlike Wheel Street for their leisure time, where they kept their wives and children.

Alec could see precisely how he would vault from the wall he now crouched on, land on the lip of the roof, follow it a little ways around the shadowed inn and slip into the window of his mark, safely untouched by any lamplight from the main street. It couldn’t have been simpler. But still, uncertainty sat in his stomach like he’d eaten a heavy meal.

He hesitated, trying to summon the clarity of mind that usually accompanied his night running or at least a concrete reason why things felt so plainly wrong but he received no answer except a gentle lifting of the wind that stirred the hood he’d pulled up tight around his head and carefully tucked his braid into.

If I don’t move quickly, what’s going to be giving me doubts will be a bluecoat’s quarrel in my chest he thought with irritation at himself. He abandoned his misgivings on top of the wall and sprightly hopped up onto the roof, his well muffled slippers barely making a whisper as he landed and began the slow, careful walk along the slates.

As he crept along in the shadows, he had to take a moment to appreciate the beauty of such a clear night. Rhíminee never looked more beautiful than when it was observed from the top of some high place Alec wasn’t meant to be, when it was nestled in the purple shadows of twilight, all glittering lamps in winding streets and a hundred yellow eyes blinking as people set candles into their windows, either to go to bed or to welcome new patrons in the brothels and gambling houses of the Street of Lights. The palace and the Orëska House were like looming candles, their towers still a deep orange with the last of the setting sun, their expansive floors the deep purple of true night. There was a sense of the city settling down, heaving some kind of silent sigh as another day ended and a whole new Rhíminee awoke.

And somewhere in it’s shadowed depths, Seregil was about his own business, chasing down a family heirloom some arrogant lord had wagered on a hand at the Dragon.

“Luck in the shadows, talí,” Alec whispered to the twilight, feeling the tug of the bond they shared as the thought travelled along it’s thread to his love.

The latch on the window was tricky though he expected nothing less at such a fine establishment with so many wealthy clients. There was a lot to protect within its whitewashed walls, after all. Still, between his clever fingers and the pick he kept in his braid, it was barely a few minutes before Alec had it open and most of that was looking down for watchmen or dogs in the yard below.

The room was dark, the noble of course off with the love he hoped to make his wife. Alec wondered if he was nervous, holding her tight as she slept, both anxious for the dawn to arrive and rather afraid of it at the same time. He could only imagine how it must feel, to ask someone to share their entire life with you, to hand them a piece of your heart in the shape of a simple loop of metal and gemstone, without something as sure as a talímenios bond.

It made him a little jealous, if he was honest.

He dismissed the thought quickly, seeing no sense in wanting things he couldn’t have. The window opened, he swung himself inside, landing on the rich woven carpet so no one below would hear him. As soon as he righted himself, the feeling came back as strong as it had been outside, the sensation that something was amiss.

There was just a string sense of the place being...unlived in. Sure the trappings of a young, overly wealthy man were spread around the room- fine coats in a number of rich fabrics hung by the door, the walls lined with books and the fine art on the walls, the plush looking furniture and tasteful hangings- but it was as if a layer of dust hung over it all. Alec knew how to read the traces a person left in their home, how to track their daily routines in which chairs had the deepest depressions and which books were always slightly out of alignment based on how they sat on the shelf. And this place held none of that. It was as if the place were deliberately posed, like the set for some elaborate play, but never intended to be lived in.

Alec’s hand twitched for the knife concealed in his boot. He knew a trap when he saw one.

He made no movement for the window or any other escape route. He could handle himself, whatever was about to appear from whatever shadowy corner of this place, but Seregil would scold himself for weeks even with no way of knowing that of both of those notes in his hand, of all the hundreds of summons they received, this would be the one that turned out dangerous. Alec was already dreading the look on his face when he brought the news back to him.

He moved far more carefully now, stepping into the place, heading for the desk where he’d been told the ring box was kept. His feet didn’t catch a single creaking floorboard, no figure moved from any direction. All was silent.

Frowning, he double and even triple checked the locks on the drawers. No poisoned needles, no dart ready to spring, no trap to close around his fingers. It was just an ordinary piece of furniture with a painfully average lock he had open within seconds. And that only made his suspicions deepen.

Seregil had said nothing about who’d sent them the summons, there was no way to tell if this was some secret enemy after them in particular, someone who had a grudge against the shadowy Rhíminee Cat or if this was one piece of a much more elaborate game. All there was to do was find the ring box, see where it needed delivering and wait for the tension to resolve itself. Some hands you just needed to play, even if you knew they were rigged.

First drawer, empty. Second drawer, nothing but a few clumps of dust. The hair’s on the back of  Alec’s neck stood to attention, why weren’t there any ledgers or papers, nothing so much as a pen to prove that a living, breathing man actually worked at this desk?

The box was in the third drawer along, a long, oblong shaped wooden box with a metal clasp. Far too big for a ring box, Alec thought. This must be the crux of the trap, the spring wound tight and ready to pounce. He steadied his breathing and felt cautiously for any hidden blade, catch or wax plugged holes. Were they being used as assassins here? Was he supposed to deliver death to this poor woman’s bedside table?

All his search discovered was the promised label, fastened around the clasp. Frowning, Alec checked the paper for any poison dusting one last time before turning it over to read it. He didn’t think he’d be delivering this box tonight, not until he’d had Seregil and maybe even Thero check it over or it could mean death for whoever’s name was inscribed upon it-

Alec’s throat tightened. The name on the label was his own. Not even the name Rhíminee knew him by, his true name.

Alec í Amasa.

No address, just the name. And at a glance, Alec knew the hand that had written it.

Even when he’d been certain this whole affair was a trap, his heart had stayed beating it’s usual steady rhythm in his chest, his breathing had been silent and shallow. But now his heart was pounding in his chest and it was such an effort to keep his hands from shaking as he pulled back his hood and carefully opened the box.

There was a ring, a simple band of polished coppery coloured metal. Nothing flashy, nothing that would draw attention; a ring that could be worn on any number of night running jobs and never attract notice but he would always know it was there. But the ring had been threaded around the shaft of an arrow. Not an ordinary arrow, at a glance he knew this wasn’t made for shooting. This was beautifully carved, expertly wrought in polished wood so the shaft had been transformed into a gorgeous scene of an otter and a stag curling around one another as they raced in flight, surrounded by cunningly made flowers that he recognised in an instant. The exact same kind had grown around the cottage where he and Seregil had spent that winter together. The more he looked, the more he saw depths in the design; there were fingerling dragons as small as his littlest knuckle chasing each other around the span of it, there was a mountain range carved into it that reminded him so strongly of his earliest home, there were symbols inscribed all the way along in a clever pattern that spoke of a hundred places and a hundred adventures.

The arrow told a story. It told their story.

And burned into the base of it was a question, composed of two words. Marry me?

Alec didn’t jump when he heard the footsteps behind him and he didn’t turn immediately. First he tried to wipe the tears from his eyes but it was no good, new ones sprang to replace them. It helped that, when he finally did face his lover, Seregil had damp cheeks too. And that familiar, crooked smile he loved so much.

“I...I know it won’t mean anything, not legally,” he was standing in the doorway, dressed in the simple evening clothes Alec had left him in last, looking uncharacteristically nervous, “But...I don’t care. I want it for us, we’re the only ones who need to know. I was thinking...maybe a small ceremony at Watermead, just our friends, some rings, a few words...but I want to be able to call you my husband, Alec. Even if it’s just between us, even if I just get to look at you and think it then...it would be something.”

Alec exhaled, voice soft though it carried over the small space between them, “Seregil, it would be everything.”

Seregil laughed, more tears catching the dusk light outside the window, opening his arms. Alec needed no more invitation than that, flying into his embrace, holding him so tight he couldn’t ever imagine letting go. Whether they were crying or laughing or both, neither could really say, as they sank to the carpet still clasped together.

“You sneaky bastard!” Alec finally managed to get out, grinning against Seregil’s shoulder, “How do I keep falling for this?”

“Ah, talí, but I’m so glad you do,” Seregil murmured back, drawing away enough to kiss him.

The kiss would have lasted until they had no more breath to give, if there wasn’t something Seregil wanted to do even more. The arrow was held fast in Alec’s hand so he slipped the ring off the shaft and placed it gently on his lover’s finger, first kissing the spot where it would lie for the rest of their lives. Now Alec could see there was a twin of it on his own finger.

“I told you about when I was young, yes?” Seregil murmured, stroking his thumb across Alec’s knuckles, “How I would sit in my bedroom back in Aurënen and imagine the person who would be my talímenios, how I would dream of you before I even knew your face...even then, I couldn’t know how it would feel to love you so much. How much you would make me want to be a better man, how every morning simply waking up and seeing you sleeping next to me would make me feel so damn lucky. I didn’t know, Alec í Amasa, how happy I would be with you.”

Alec just shook his head, tears sparkling like diamonds of the most precious sort as they fell to their clasped hands, he didn’t have his lover’s skill with words. He just leaned in and kissed him again, murmuring every time they stopped for air, “I love you, I love you, I love you…”

But those were the only words Seregil needed to hear.

[lisinfleur]

Mistletoe? Misfortune!

The request: A fiction with Floki or Ivar for the following prompt: “Mistletoe. Is that not… bad luck?” - “If I have a knife.” Author’s Notes | Sometimes it is bad luck indeed hahaha I hope you guys like this one! Universe | Vikings Pairing | Floki x Reader, Ivar x Flokisðóttir Info |Modern AU, prompts designed by @honestsycrets for 2019’s Holiday Event Words | 1068 ⁑ Warnings: None

The two of you had done the whole preparation for Christmas together, but Floki was looking around finding anything that could possibly be wrong in his home to get everything perfect for the night.

As long as you knew, Ivar and his brothers would come with Ragnar and his wife to spend the Christmas night with your family and since it was something that would happen once in a lifetime, Floki wanted everything to be perfect for the occasion. And so did you.

Maybe that's why you just didn't care when he asked you to clean the garden with him, even after the two of you had already cleaned almost the whole house, changed the wallpaper, organized the shelves, and, of course, made the traditional cleaning on your attic and basement to find anything old to be donated or tossed away. It was something good for him to have people he loved around for Christmas and you would love to have your house full of good friends for such a warm night, so why not make it comfortable and receive them with a beautiful house as well?

"Mom!" your daughter's voice sounded from the door and you saw she had come with the youngest of the Ragnarssons - a little too early for the Christmas dinner, but not something unwarned at all. You knew Ragnar had called earlier in the morning telling Floki he would send some things for the preparations and his boys would also come early to help the three of you - "and I do not accept no as an answer! They're younger, we put them to work!" - so, it wasn't unexpected that some of them would arrive. You weren't expecting all of them to come but you could see Ubbe had come as well and was closing the car while Hvitserk was, somehow, managing to get your lazy dog up to play - that dog would spend the whole day sat or laid, but whenever Hvitserk come to visit he would instantly get up and shake his tale knowing the boy would have something for him to eat, that fat little thing. Sigurd was coming beside the older one with some bags he picked up from the car.

"They came to help!" your child smiled, with Ivar by her side waving at you two. "Ivar said Björn will come later with more food he went out to buy!"

You waved back, smiling, but Floki frowned with his eyes catching Ivar's free hand landing on your daughter's waist.

"They have been being too close to each other, don't you think?" he complained, annoyed.

And you giggled, knowing Floki didn't want to accept the obvious inclination your daughter had to give her heart to the youngest son of Ragnar.

They had grown the best friends since they were children and you knew your daughter was wrapped around the boy's fingers. Ivar was a good boy, intelligent, strong, and funny when he wasn't in a bad mood. And he was never in a bad mood when your daughter was around so, you chose to get used to the idea of having the Ragnarsson as your soon-to-be son in law - something that your husband was struggling to accept.

"Let them be, Floki," you said, giggling. "They're even cute toge... oh, no. Mistletoe!" you exclaimed when your eyes went back to the garden, finding some mistletoe near your feet.

"What?" Floki answered, coming closer.

“Mistletoe. Is that not… bad luck?” you asked, pointing the bunch of leaves to what Floki smiled like someone who had the best of the ideas.

“If I have a knife,” he said, cutting the mistletoe and bringing you by your hand with him, pinning the plant on top of your door, right over the place where he gently placed you, with that silly smile in his face. "See? Now you owe me a kiss," he joked. "Not bad luck at all!"

You giggled, kissing him softly before coming in to receive the boys and help Sigurd with the bags he was dropping on your kitchen.

"And Björn went out to buy more food?" you asked seeing Sigurd nodding. "God, how much does your father thinks we eat?"

"It's not about you, it's about him," Sigurd pointed Hvitserk as Ubbe was standing beside your husband.

"We'll help with the garden, don't worry," Ubbe offered.

To what Hvitserk jumped almost instantly.

"We?" he asked, already tasting some of the cookies you had done earlier, "'We' is more than one, Ubbe," he said filling his mouth with some more cookie, "Sigurd and I were prone to help with the kitchen matters..."

"Which means me helping aunt Y/N to cook and Hvitserk playing the sommelier," Sigurd rolled his eyes and Hvitserk smiled.

"Quite what I was thinking!" Hvitserk finished, having his ear "gently" pulled by his older brother, being carried towards the house entrance.

"Garden with me, Hvitserk. Now," Ubbe sentenced his fate.

"I'll pick up the tools for us to work," Floki said, indicating he would go back to the garden work with the brothers as you would help Sigurd and probably your daughter with the kitchen.

But where was your daughter?

"I'm sure it's mistletoe," you heard Ivar's voice calling you and Floki's attention towards the door where your daughter was shyly smiling standing under the doorway while Ivar was analyzing the piece of mistletoe Floki had just placed there. "Which means... I'll earn a kiss, right?"

Your husband almost exploded an eyeball, you could ensure it by the vein visible on the side of his face and his fists clenched as your daughter gently leaned forward, cupping Ivar's face with all the tenderness of the world and kissing him softly before drawing back fully red, leaving a smile on the boy's face in what was the sweetest moment of that Christmas for you until now.

His brothers were smiling and even Sigurd couldn't deny a smile for that sweet scene.

But Floki was still steaming when you held his hand, leaning your head to lay in his shoulder.

"Let them be, Floki. She loves him... And I'm quite certain he loves her back," you said, hearing when Floki sighed, defeated.

"Nah... You were right... Mistletoe is bad luck indeed, after all. Bad bad luck. Bad-luck!" he repeated, reinforcing it, causing you to giggle amused.

That would be some funny Christmas night after all...

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[piahautea]

Appreciation Post: My Lovely Barkada

I’ve always been the stick-to-one type of friend.

Back during the first two years of junior high, you’d only see me with just one friend. One lunch buddy, one fair week constant, one automatic partner, one let’s-go-to-the-library-during-intrams-instead co-lazy bum, one companion and one everything. But never really the more meaningful ones like: a confidante, a tell-me-your-secrets-they’re-safe-with-me type of chill, a laughing comrade or a wingman /pagdating sa mga crushes na iyan/. That was until I met each of the cartoon people above. 

This post is dedicated to them. The not-so-small barkada I never thought I’d have. They've also been so supportive of my blogging ever since and I want y’all to meet them! Somehow you may also try to see a part of yourself in them with their little intro’s /but that's only if you want to/.

A little disclaimer by the way: Their art banners are filled with silly deets about them while their actual descriptions are a lot graver; although, it's still sounding a lot like silly Pea wrote them, aye. 

This is Leila. Leila’s been one of my best friends since 10th grade. I never thought we’d be in the friendship situation we have now because I only thought surface-level bros were all we'd ever be. But, nah. What are those for anyway? She was the quietly-acing-my-way-in-the-honor-rolls type. And, well, I was trying so hard to be that student. But we just randomly sparked up a convo about my blog and her love for Niall Horan and then she became my confidante in an instant with her shipping me so hard with a Tumblr boy that I used to like. In the things I thought highly impossible for myself, she believed I could turn them around in my favor and she stood there behind me with her hand on my back. She’s the best. I still wish she'd become a doctor, even though she's already faced towards a different track.

This is Margaux. When she spots you and you tickle her fancy, she’d probably talk to you. Basically, that's what happened to us. We were just batchmates in the same baking class. That changed when we bumped into each other at a charm store; she saw me first, tapped my back and said, “Hi!” like it’s nothing. Post the little meeting and the year after, we became classmates. And then I knew that smiling was her best asset and her laughter was her best type of music. She’d made me cookies and a chocolate-mint birthday cake for my 18th because that’s her. You hear little words and phrases like pastries, being top-level artsy, beauty queen pageants, genuine grins, dressing up for fun and you got it. That’s still gonna be her.

This is Froilan. If you know me well enough, you’d know that this dude’s been one of my constants since the beginning of time /‘di naman haha since 9th grade lang siguro/. You'll see him almost everywhere I go and part of almost everything I do. We’ve also been constantly teased by past classmates about us having that chemistry and that maybe we were already secretly a couple. All I can say is, nope. We’re merely bros. I love him, though. In the gayest way possible. He’s amazing in general. He loves getting and slaying the D so much. Drawing, dancing and designing *wink wink*. I’m never afraid to be myself when I’m with him and for that I’m eternally thankful. He’s also my punching bag hehe he enjoys the force of my knuckles kissing and smashing his fudge brownie skin /poetic/.

This is Nesli. She’s the first friend I’ve ever made in our circle. We’ve been together since the 7th grade and mutually sworn to be each other’s best friends during 8th grade. She’s also one of my confidantes. And the one who’s literally seen me in the good, the bad & the ugly and has still loved me no matter what. She has a heart large enough to fit in giraffes, all her favorite Filipino & European dishes, historical fiction books, her family, her art, her hoes and all her other friends. She’s my happy pill, tbfh. She’s going to make it big in the animations field or in any other field because she’s that flexible. She can write, draw, paint /in both the common mediums/, care for wildlife and humanity vividly. It's such a cakewalk to believe in what she's capable of because when she dreams, she dreams with her eyes open and with stellar passion running freely in her veins.

This is Brian. He’s one of my sister’s former tutees. I’ve heard stuff about him being sassy and loud /which he was/, but our friendship was a bit like of a plot twist. An unexpected thing. Although believe me when I say this: my sister predicted that we’d be the best of friends in the future. And she was right about it. 9th grade and I can still fondly remember it all. We’d sit in a corner where people weren't around to sing Defying Gravity because it was his fave and I was his fave duet partner, too. Sooner or later, we begun that singing routine. He easily became the person I’d always wanna sing with and now he’s worked his way to get into theater by switching schools for both SHS and college. I love my theater geek friend /who apparently knows how to get wasted now/. And I miss having to deal with him and his antics everyday. 

This is Gia. Being friends with her was also an unexpected one. She’s quiet and was only the closest to Cather /you’ll get know her later/. We’d never really had those talk-talks until the final years of junior high. She lent me her copy of To Kill A Mockingbird and it opened me to widen my reading choices. We also discovered each others’ love for indie/alternative rock music. She loves Nirvana, blink-182 and The Killers and it killed me. I’d also boast to those who love her brother’s band from the indie OPM scene that I’m friends with the vocalist’s baby sister because Hello? it’s not everyday you get to be friends with someone who has blood thick and rich of musical notes and art. She's an epitome of those two things.

This is Mika. Mika was Froilan’s friend first. And then she randomly talked to me in class and we became instant friends who loved hugging each other. She’s the type to get crafty and make you keychains or little drawings of your favorite things for Christmas or your birthday. She’s the sweetest soul and she likes to share stories with you; it doesn’t matter how long you’ll chatter with her. She’s also super smart! She helps me with all the Math help I needed back when we still had to take Math. You would just never see an honor roll without her in it. And yes, she had a phase with Big Time Rush back in junior high. But now, it seems like she’s also been bitten by another Kpopper /probably a friend from outside the circle/. She's the kind of treasure I'd like to keep with me anywhere I go. 

This is Carmela. This one’s another plot twist kind of friendship. Like Margaux, she’s also extremely loud and friendly. Like randomly-popping-into-your-face kind of friendly. She’s chatty but it’s a reasonable kind of chatter. She also dances like a pro. I envy her grace on the floor and the flat stomach she'd cultivated out of that. We may not have the same amount of time as we had before but we see to it that no matter how busy we are, we’d never fail to exchange short stories and warm hugs when we see each other. Also, yes, she is my co-bully when it comes to Froilan. Everything she does to put him in artless misery cracks me up every time /that’s how we roll/.

This is Seline. I’ve only known her this year but since then, she’s already been one of my closest friends in class. We just vibe well and we could talk about anything in the pop culture spectrum or just anything Tumblr and art-related. I love how her mind just works like a charm and concocts puns real quick. I love how she'd update me and tell me stories about her dogs and their newborn puppies because we share the same love for these critters and it just makes me giddy every time. Because of her, I’m starting to rethink my stances on animated films /because I’m not big on those/. She makes some of the greatest digital artworks I’ve ever seen and I can’t wait to have more cafe adventures with her and our other amigos and to visit her in Benilde by the time we reach college. 

This is Cather(ine). Like Nesli, we’ve been friends since 7th grade and best girls since the 8th. She’s the cutest /next to my spot/ in the group and makes equally-adorable reactions to everything she sees. It kind of takes her a while to do almost everything she has to do but it adds up to how she handles anything with the utmost love and care not anyone would ever spare time for. She's also loud whenever she opens her mouth to speak /e.g. when we're in the car and it's quiet, she would completely ignore the silence and start a quickfire with her words but that's okay because she can never be irritating to me at all/. I love her that much. I hope she’d find solace in the fact that she’s a bright, bright kiddo who would slay any scientific fate she’d choose. I’d always have her back as she's always had mine.

When we met, it suddenly just made sense to meet altogether, too. It wasn't like our personalities were so similar with the other that we just had to gather around a campfire and talk about starting a tribe or something. Our personalities differ; but in such a way that we complement each other, filling gaps that needed a little something of this or that. But about the tribe thing, yes we do gather. Annually. For Christmas. And it has to be in a different house each year until we get to be in everyone's humble abodes.

Ladies & gents, this is my second ohana. My very own battle cohort. Top 1 in my small list of kada’s. My most favorite non-blood related people in the universe. I used to be a stick-to-one kind of person. Now, I'm mostly a stick-to-ten. 

[thebroadstreetdarling]

I was tagged by @thegreatwhiteferret - thanks lovely!

87 Random Questions

1. Where do you live? Canada.

2. One cool item you own? An old typewriter given to me by my uncle.

3. Moon or stars? The stars.

4. Places you’d like to travel to? The Mediterranean or Vienna.

5. Favorite song? Must be dreaming by Frou Frou.

6. Do you have any fears? I am afraid of fucking dragonflies...ugh.

7. Do you feel different than you did last year? Oh definitely.

8. What is your race? I am

Metis-Cree Nation. So basically, Metis is a combination of Cree and French/Scottish people.

9. Pet peeves? Finding hair in food, I fucking cry every time.

10. Any siblings? I am the oldest of five siblings, so there’s me and my younger sister plus three younger brothers.

11. Are you a gamer? No, video games make me dizzy.

12. Sexual orientation? Bi-sexual.

13. Does a broken mirror mean bad luck? Nah.

14. What do you feel is your mental age? I feel older sometimes, always have.

15. How old were you when you started dating? 14, yeah it was gross.

16. Where do you do most of your online shopping? I don’t really shop online tbh.

17. Favorite animal? Foxes.

18. What’s one film from the 2000s that you like? Moulin Rouge! Is my absolute favourite film.

19. What’s your favorite scary movie? The Conjuring! I loved it, it was impressively thrilling.

20. Fun fact about yourself? I like eating burnt food, sometimes I burn some of my food on purpose because I like the charred taste.

21. Shoe size? 7.

22. Which fictional character(s) do you relate to the most? Suga from Haikyuu!! We’re literally the same person, it’s so weird.

23. Where do you see yourself living in ten years? Somewhere warm, probably Vancouver.

24. Ever wore clothes that were just wayyy too tight? No, I perfer comfort over everything else.

25. What’s on your mind? I hope my face clears up soon (Had an allergic reaction to shampoo).

26. Are you religious? In a way, kinda more of a traditional sense as far as my Indigenous background goes.

27. How tall are you? 5’6.

28. Favorite band? 65daysofstatic

29. Do you remember 2009? Yeah, I just graduated high school and got really sick that year, some days I was sleeping 15/16 hours because I got really sick and had no energy.

30. Cats or dogs? I’m allergic to both so I don’t care either way.

31. Fruit or vegetables? Fruits.

32. Do you want to get married? Nope!

33. Do you want children? No, but I wouldn’t mind adopting or fostering kids.

34. Flamingos or peacocks? Flamingos! They’re so much nicer.

35. What superpower do you wish you had? I wish I could fly, or have super strength.

36. Are you a germ freak? Yes. I have wipes to wipe down all surfaces all the time, and I organize every day.

37. Did swearing baby, ghost car, or ghost caught on tape scare you as a kid? No.

38. Do you prefer sweet or salty? Sweet.

39. Tea or coffee? Tea, I think of coffee as more of a treat to have every now and then.

40. Are you superstitious? In a way. I knock on wood three times if I say something that might jinx me.

41. Do you like stripes? Such a look.

42. Favorite shows as a kid? Digimon! And Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

43. Favorite shows growing up? Digimon and Fullmetal Alchemist

44. Favorite musical? Moulin Rouge!

45. Favorite movie? Moulin Rouge!

46. Birthday? October 31st. I’m a Halloween babe.

47. Are you a grammar Nazi? No, and that’s an awful term.

48. Ever gotten drunk? I’ve never been drunk in my life, true fact.

49. Do you have a carrier bag? I do! So much easier to carry stuff around.

50. What would you do if you were the opposite gender for a day? Probably nothing.

51. If you were the opposite gender what would you change your name to? Jude or Julian.

52. What song is stuck in your head? Seventeen for the Heathers Musical.

53. Celebrity crush? Don’t really have one tbh.

54. If you could live in a non-English speaking country, where would it be? Czech Republic, I’d go live in Prague, or Italy.

55. Are you a good dancer? I’m a great dancer! Many styles too!

56. Have any allergies? I have 15 different allergies, most of them food.

57. Any bad habits? I rub my eyes too much when I get nervous.

58. Ever broke a bone? I’ve never had the pleasure.

59. Are you a city or country person? City, I hate being in the country.

60. Do you like your home country? I give Canada a lot of shit, but honesty it’s not a bad place.

61. Sunflowers or daisies? Sunflowers.

62. Tulips or roses? Roses, champagne coloured ones are my favourite.

63. Oak or maple? Oak.

64. Disney or Nickelodeon? Disney.

65. WYR be obese or anorexic? This is an awful question what the fuck?

66. WYR be over 6 feet or under 5 feet? Oh! Over 6 feet for sure, and I would wear three inch heels and just dominate every where I go.

67. Rubies or sapphires? Sapphires.

68. Are you stubborn? Nah.

69. Have you been in scouts/Girl Scouts? Nope.

70. What type of music do you listen to? A little bit of everything.

71. Favorite vine? The get silly one with the little cat, I watch it late at night to help me sleep sometimes.

72. Beaches or castles? How bout a Castle on a beach? Because that would be fantastic!

73. Pick the closest book to you, and write the line you opened to:

“No,” he whispered with a sigh as his head rested on my shoulder. “No, I suppose I don’t.” - the heart’s invisible furies by John boyne. This is a fantastic book by the way!

74. Anyone in the same room as you right now? Yassine. My room mate, we cook supper together sometimes, and talk about our days, I can kinda tell he likes the company, he’s one of those social people who suddenly live in a place where he can’t be as social, poor kid.

75. Which is worse; throwing up or diarrhea? I haven’t thrown up since I was five, so that was 22 years ago, so I’m going to say diarrhea.

76. Butterflies or lady bugs? Butterflies! They’re so pretty!

77. Do you say “K” when you’re mad? I say oh-kayyyy, because I’m usually trying not to snap at someone and that’s how I calm myself.

78. How do you react when people purposely scare you? It’s kinda hard to sometimes, but when they do, I just startle and start laughing afterwards.

79. Most overrated celebrity? Cate Blanchett - she named her son after Roman Polanski people, that woman ain’t shit.

80. Do you have a globe in your room? No.

81. Do you have a dream catcher in your room? I don’t surprisingly, but I sometimes like my nightmares, they can give me story inspiration sometimes.

82. What do you see when you look out your window? My courtyard, it has a really nice tree and bench that I can’t wait to read on when it’s warm out again.

83. Have you been on an airplane? Yup!

84. Do you believe in aliens? I do! I used to kinda be terrified of them because of this Movie I saw when I was a kid, called Fire in the Sky. Like that movie made me cry I was so scared, and then my friend Princess told me she wouldn’t be scared of aliens, because in a way they’re like people, just beings from far off places, and why be scared of someone not from Earth, so I got over that fear pretty quickly.

85. Do you believe in ghosts? I do, mostly because I’ve seen plenty in my life. Good and bad ones.

86. Do you believe in God? Yeah man! I believe in all of people’s beliefs, because that’s important to them in a way. Much like I believe in Creator, why shouldn’t I believe in a god?

87. Do you believe in yourself? All the fucking time, it’s one of my many strengths.

I never know who to tag, whoops! I tag whoever wants to do this! :):):)

[skyshipper]

blog tag

I was tagged by the very sweet @the-blind-assassin-12 (who has the cutest dog in the world in case anyone is wondering). 💛

1. Why did you choose your url?

Oh man, I fucking HATE coming up with blog names because everything I come up with is usually taken.  I started this blog several years ago to celebrate my love of Nick & June from the Handmaid’s Tale. I hadn’t been on tumblr in quite a few years and that ship brought me back to fandom land. I chose “sky” because when I’m on tumblr I feel like my head is in the clouds and “shipper” because I was here to post about a specific ship. Idk, I don’t love it and it’s not even a good concept but it’s staying forever because I loathe coming up with new blog names. I also get really confused on my own dash when people change their urls?? Lol, I’m a visual person. So anyway, that’s it. That’s the name. It kinda sucks but here we are.

2. Any side blogs?

Yep, but I pretty much abandoned it. I’ve found that one blog is more than enough to manage for me. I originally created it when I wanted to post stuff for shows outside of The Handmaid’s Tale. Then I decided that was silly and I should post whatever the hell I feel like. It’s very easy on social media to get caught up in likes, followers, reblogs, etc.....but ultimately I’m here for me.  I know 95% of the people who follow this blog came here for content for another show, but they don’t have to stay and that’s fine. I’m just out here doing my own thing, curating a list of shit I’m into at the moment.  If you’re into it too, then cool!  If not, that is also cool.��

3. How long have you been on tumblr?

I’ve come and gone many times. I think I had a blog around 2014 for a show/fandom that shall not be named, which I rage deleted in a fit one day.  Then I had a lurker blog for a few years.  I think I’ve had this one for maybe 2-3 years??? I don’t think I logged in for the majority of 2020, because the pandemic rollercoaster took an emotional toll on me just like everyone else. I’ve made a conscious decision this year to only spend my free time & social media time on things that are making me feel happy, not anxious, frustrated or sad. Din Djarin brought me back here but I’ve stayed for Pedro Pascal. Pedro makes everyone happy, bless his beautiful soul. ❤️

4. Do you have a queue tag?

Nope. I tried queuing posts for a while but I just found it to be too much work. Now I just reblog/like stuff on the spot. 

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?

To celebrate my love of Nick & June from The Handmaid’s Tale. I’m not really into the show anymore because the writing is total shit, but season one (when they were working off of Margaret Atwood’s novel) is still a masterpiece. 

6. Why did you choose your icon/pfp?

Because Javier Peña is hot as fuck, that’s why. Listen, I have a hard time picking an icon and get irrationally attached to it when I do. There are so many great Pedro pictures and characters to choose from.  I still think of going back to my original Pedro icon from that Vanity Fair photoshoot because it’s one of my absolute favorite pictures of him and I still love it so much. I’ve been messing around in Photoshop trying to make a cool background for it and have failed miserably to create anything I like thus far.  So for now, Javi is staying.

7. Why did you choose your header?

Once again, because Javier Peña is hot as fuck, that’s why.  I never held a handgun in my life, but ohhhhh, so sexy when fictional characters I love do it. Same with the cigarette smoking. Good lord just thinking about this is making me feel things. 😅

8. What’s your post with the most notes?

This weapons set I made for Din. I’m still shocked that happened because that is BY FAR the most notes I’ve ever received on a post and it will probably never happen again. I peaked too soon, haha!  I just got Photoshop in February or March of this year after making mediocre gifs with a series of phone apps for years.  That was maybe the second or third set I ever made in Photoshop, so I was kind of stunned it took off like that. What can I say, everyone finds Din’s weapons as sexy as I do, I guess.  I do sometimes look at it and wish I would have made better quality gifs but I was, and still am, learning. Now when I look at I try and use it as a reminder that my gifs are slowly improving (at least I hope so anyway) and that makes me happy. I still get notes on that post daily which both surprises me and makes my heart all warm and fuzzy. 

9. How many mutuals do you have?

I’m not really sure because I never went through and counted??? Maybe 30ish?

10. How many followers do you have?

1363, at least 1200 of which came here for Nick & June. I hope all of you like Pedro Pascal & Star Wars because I’m going to be stuck in this mode for a long time!! 🤡

11. How many people do you follow?

157

12. Have you ever made a shitpost?

No, not that I can remember anyway. Tumblr & fandom in general are way more fun for me when I spend time focusing on good things.  Life (this past year especially) is hard enough. I just want to bask in the glow of Pedro’s beautiful heart and face, live in the fantasy worlds of Star Wars, read smutty things from amazing writers, and enjoy beautiful gifs & edits from content creators. All of these things bring me joy and that’s why I’m here. This is a positive vibes only space for me.

13. How often do you use Tumblr each day?

Too much??? I like to keep my work tabs open on my computer and then peak at pretty things throughout the day as a little reward when I get stuff done.  Sometimes that leads to unexpected breaks (like reading fanfiction at 11am on a Tuesday) but I’m not sad.  I work for myself so there is no one to get mad at me, just a pile of work that keeps growing because I’m screwing around.

14. Did you have a fight/argument with another blog once?

Nah. I’m here for pretty things, wonderful writing and nice people. If someone is an asshole I just block them, problem solved. Which has only happened to me once that I can recall and it was years ago. I try to only follow people that cultivate a space for kindness and positivity as well, that way there is nothing to argue about......just mutual pining over lovely things.

15. How do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts?

Ugh, love/hate relationship. I definitely understand why people who create things want as many people to see it as possible. It takes a long time to create gifs/edits/write stories so I see the value in reblogs and user tags as a way to boost posts to get your stuff out there in front of as many eyes as possible.  Personally, I feel like people should reblog things only when and if they want to do it.  I never want anyone to reblog my creations because they feel like they have to do that.  I want them to reblog it because it made them happy and/or they liked something I created. Believe it or not, I notice when a follower of mine is a person that usually only “likes” my posts and then suddenly reblogs something with the nicest tags about a post saying it’s pretty, they love it, etc.  For me, that’s extremely rewarding because something I made resonated with that person.  I also believe that if you’re creating things only for reblogs or likes then you’re focused on the endgame and competition (getting the most notes, etc.) which is never a good headspace to be in for creating things. I know that can be hard because social media creates anxiety, depression and imposter syndrome, but the amount of notes on a post really and truly does not always equate to the best content.  So much of it is timing, or a post getting boosted by bigger blogs so more people see it.  I try to create things for myself first and foremost and if I am doing that and enjoying myself in the process, who cares how many people see it/like it/reblog it? At the end of the day I want to like what I create and feel like I’m improving my Photoshop knowledge & skills. That’s why I’m here and that’s what I try to stay focused on all the time.

16. Do you like tag games?

Yeah, I do. Except the music questions.  Why are there so many music/song questions?  I’m the kind of person that lets someone else pick the music most of the time. I also listen to a genre to fit the mood I’m in rather than a specific artist 95% of the time, so I find those song questions really difficult. I also like tag games because I really love to learn more about other people here. I’m really flattered when someone tags me in something because it means they want to get to know me better and since I’m both introverted and shy I always find that really nice. 🥺

17. Do you like ask games?

Yes!! I always want to do those but if I’m being honest, I’m shy and anxious so I always feel like no one will send me any asks if I do it.  Lol, that is peak anxiety my friends. Let’s just say I’m working up to doing one someday. I absolutely love reading them when others do them.

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is Tumblr famous?

Certainly @javier-pena ......I mean, those Din Djarin’s hottest moments and Javier Peña’s hottest moments are straight up iconic. Also @sirtadcooper whose icons/headers are absolutely amazing, instantly recognizable and rightfully used by so many people because they are fucking awesome!

19. Do you have a crush on a mutual?

Oh yeah, so many.  I have creator crushes on tons of people that are not mutuals too.  Jfc, there are so many lovely people here creating amazing things.  I will say that @sirtadcooper is honestly one of the sweetest, kindest people I have met in this fandom and one of the most amazing content creators here. A true beacon of original content that I admire greatly. I love that I can pick out her work so easily and that she has a clear style. I aspire to get to that point with my creations some day. @javier-pena makes the mostly insanely crispy gifs and has been very kind about helping me with gif questions in my obsession quest to constantly learn how to become better.  I think her gifs are magic at this point because I just don’t understand how they look that consistently amazing all of the fucking time?? Idk, I’m just glad she shares them with us. @trashcora makes some really amazing gifs that I just don’t even know where to begin. Sometimes I look at stuff like this of hers and wonder if people really appreciate the amount of time it takes to create things like that??  Same goes for @millenniumsfalcon where I just can’t even begin to think about how to create gifs that complex and beautiful. I don’t even know what to say, I’m just going to continue to admire these creations from my little corner of the web. As for writers, I absolutely adore anything @frannyzooey writes. I mean, I’m suddenly living for Dave York porn and I’ve never even watched that film??? I’m convinced anything she writes is pure gold. TMTC is one of the best pieces of fanfiction I’ve ever read. I must confess I’ve only read about 3% of the amazing fanfiction in the Pedro/Mandalorian fandom because I get stuck on Masterlists like hers that are so consistently fucking amazing. That and most of my free hours are spent clowning around in Photoshop. I can’t wait to read more stuff from so many other people here. I promise I have a list much longer than I have time for, but I’m getting there!

Tagging: @keeper0fthestars , @teamnick , & @filthybookworm if you would like to. 😊💛