#outsiders eloise soup | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

miblife · 9 months ago

Text

Statement Begins AU - Full Cast

This is every character in the Statement Begins AU, alongside the content creator that plays them, and the SMP (if one) that they are referenced from/who they are

This list will be updated when characters/surnames are revealed (yes I should've done this ages ago oops-)

WARNING: Very long, could have spoilers

Aimsey Machen - Aimsey - Dream SMP

Alistair E. Rete - Eret - Dream SMP

Albrecht M. Seiben - DocM77 - Hermitcraft

Alex Quiroz - Quackity - Dream SMP/QSMP

Alyssa Found - ItsAlyssa - Dream SMP

Anthony B. Stat - Bigbst4tz2 - Life Series

Anthony Frost - Antfrost - Dream SMP

Antoine Daniels - Antoine Daniels - QSMP

Apollo Kew-Nye - Apokuna - Outsiders SMP

Arin Videgain - Luzu/Arin the AI - QSMP

Ash Kabosu - Ash Kabosu - Member of the band Lovejoy

Baghera Jones - Baghera Jones - QSMP

Bagi Brito - Bagi - QSMP

Baillie Squid - iBallisticSquid

Beau Tye - Beautie - Origins SMP

Becky Amon - Bekyamon - Outsiders SMP

Berwynne Oliver-Ortiz - Bdoubleo100 - Hermitcraft/Life Series

Bill Zoe - Billzo - Origins SMP

Blake Halo - Badboyhalo - QSMP

Bobby Guerrero - Bobby the Egg - QSMP

Boyd Halo - Badboyhalo - Dream SMP

Brice Solace/The Golden - GoldSolace - Associated with Team Crafted

Callahan Reindere - Callahan - Dream SMP

Callum Cepeka - SeaPeaKay - Dream SMP

Caroline Puffy - CaptainPuffy - Dream SMP

Cathy Gamre - KatherineElizabeth - Empires SMP Season 2

Celso Brito - Cellbit - QSMP

Chayanne Merlo - Chayanne the Egg - QSMP

Cleo Moros - ZombieCleo - Hermitcraft/Life Series

Connor Pants - ConnorEatsPants - Dream SMP

Crumb - Cuptoast - Artist/Animator that is close with Ranboo, Tubbo, CaptainSparkles and more

Danny Deo - TimeDeo - SMP Earth

Dapper Halo - Dapper the Egg - QSMP

Duante Pac - Pac/Tazercraft - QSMP

Dylan Enay - BoomerNA - Dream SMP

Elaina Exxee - ElainaEXE - MCC

Eloise Soup - SoupforEloise - Outsiders SMP

Em Ada - Empanada the Egg - QSMP

Eryn Ciber-Onix - Cyberonix - Dream SMP

Ethan Hoslab - Ethoslab - Hermitcraft/Life Series

Étoile Sauveterre - Étoiles - QSMP

Eva Suma - Evil Xisuma - Hermitcraft

Felicia Symmetry - FalseSymmertry - Hermitcraft

Felipe Gênero - Feelps - QSMP

Finn Star - F1nn5ter - MCC/Idots SMP

Fitz Emsens - FitMC - QSMP

Forden Whip - FWhip - Empires SMP Season 1

Freddie Linu - Badlinu - Origins SMP

Fundy Soot - Fundy - Dream SMP

Gabriel Acho - ggAcho - Rats SMP/Outsiders SMP

Gem Tay - Geminitay - Empires SMP Season 1

George Found - Georgenotfound - Dream SMP

Gracie Hey - Graecie - Outsiders SMP

Grian Watcher - Grian - Hermitcraft/Life Series/Yandere High School

Hannah Rose - HannahxxRose - Dream SMP

Harry Bomb - HBomb94 - Dream SMP

Hermes Stratakis - Hermes - Empires SMP Season 2

Hydd Tyzed - Hypnotizd - Hermitcraft

Ira Party - IronMouse - QSMP

Irvyn Jevin - iJevin - Hermitcraft

Isak Åttafem - Iskall85 - Hermitcraft

Ivory Cello - IvoryCello

Jack Manifold - Jack Manifold - Dream SMP

Jaiden Annie Mason - JaidenAnimations - QSMP

James Marriott - James Marriott - Origins SMP

Jason Universe/The Universe - MinecraftUniverse - Team Crafted

Jason Vurb - Vurb - Idots SMP

Jennifer Tae - GeminiTay - Hermitcraft/Life Series/Empires SMP Season 2

Jerome A. Essef/The Axe - JeromeASF - Team Crafted

Jimmy Major - SolidarityGaming - Empires SMP Season 1/Life Series

Joe Everse - Joey Graceffa - Empires SMP Season 2

Joe Hills - Joe Hills - Hermitcraft

Joel S. Bean - SmallishBeans - Empires SMP Season 1/Life Series

Joey Graceffa - Joey Graceffa - Empires SMP Season 1

Joey T. Tiss - Joeyish/Taurtis - Yandere High School

Jonathan Schlatt - Jschlatt - Dream SMP

Jordan Sparks - CaptainSparkles - MCC

Juana Fuentes-Flipper - JuanaFlippa the Egg - QSMP

Junior Puffy - Jr. the Totem - Dream SMP

Karl Jacobs - KarlJacobs - Dream SMP

Katherine Elizabeth - KatherineElizabeth - Empires SMP Season 1

Kazmer Rallis - Keralis - Hermitcraft

Kristin Oneza nee Rosales - Kristin/Mumza - Dream SMP/Philza's wife

Krow - Krow - Outsiders SMP

Larry Zarah - LazarBeam - Dream SMP

Leo Siete - Leonarda the Egg - QSMP

Levi Athon - Leviathon - Friends with Purpled

Likha Sadiri - SAD-ist - Artist/Animator heavily associated with the Dream SMP

Lizzie Bean - LDShadowLady - Empires SMP Season 1/Life Series

Luke Bedars - Punz - Dream SMP

Lyarrah Lyve - LyarrahLive - The Hermitcraft Recap

Mariana Fuentes-Flipper - ElMariana - QSMP

Martyn L. Woods - InTheLittleWood - Life Series

Maurice Ayka - Mohwee - Outsiders SMP

Max Ithza - Mithzan

Maximus Agurto - Maximus - QSMP

Maya Sings - MagicSings - Outsiders SMP

Megumi Horiuchi - Gumi - MCC

Michael McChill - Michael McChill - Dream SMP

Michelle Puffy - Michelle the Piglin - Dream SMP

Mikhael Elo - Mike/Tazercraft - QSMP

Missael Mero - MissaSinfonia - QSMP

Mitch Baja/The Bow - BajanCanadian - Team Crafted

Mr Dreamer - Dream - Dream SMP

Myer Sosa - MythicalSausage - Empires SMP Season 1

Niki Hachu - Nihachu - Dream SMP

Noah Puffy - FoolishGamers - Dream SMP/QSMP

Noel T. Blade - Technoblade - Dream SMP

Oli Sound - OrionSound - Empires SMP Season 2/Afterlife SMP

Olive Sleep - OliveSleepy - Rats SMP

Oliver Jumbo - MumboJumbo - Hermitcraft/Life Series

Orion Ayka - Oeca - Outsiders SMP

Oscar Goodtimes - Goodtimeswithscar - Hermitcraft/Life Series

Owen Agarci - OwengejuiceTV - Outsiders SMP

Panos Stratakis - Smallishbeans - Empires SMP Season 2

Pause - PauseUnPause - Close friends with Etho and VintageBeef

Pearl Moon - PearlescentMoon - Hermitcraft/Life Series

Pepe Toro - Pepito the Egg - QSMP

Pete Hutt - Petezahutt - MCC

Phillip Oneza - Philza - Dream SMP/QSMP

Pierre Bedars - Purpled - Dream SMP

Piper Riffs - Pixlriffs - Empires SMP Season 1/The Hermitcraft Recap

Pomme Jones - Pomme the Egg - QSMP

Ponlok Drops - DropsByPonk - Dream SMP

Prism A. Reana - Prismarina - Witchcraft SMP

Quentin Kips/The Fish - HuskyMudkipz - Team Crafted

Quentin Up - 5Up - MCC

Ramón Emsens - Ramon the Egg - QSMP

Ranell B. Loved - Ranboo - Dream SMP

Redd Onos - Redoons - Outsiders SMP

Ren Dog - Rendog - Hermitcraft/Life Series

Rhianna Soot - SootRhianna - Soothouse/Nihachu's roommate

Richa Gênero - Richarlyson the Egg - QSMP

Rio Guerrero - Roier - QSMP

Rodor Essvi - ImpulseSV - Hermitcraft/Life Series

Rose B. Pie - Rasbi - Outsiders SMP

Ross Pall - Yourpalross/HouseOwner

Rubén Elenes - Rubius - QSMP

Sally Salmon - Sally the Salmon - Dream SMP

Sam Aweman - Awesamdude - Dream SMP

Sam Gladiator - SamGladiator - Yandere High School

Sammy Ferrish - Snifferish - Rats SMP

Saphna Halo - Sapnap - Dream SMP

Sarah-Alex Brown - Salex - Yandere High School

Scott S. Major - Smajor1995/Dangthatsalongname - Empires SMP Season 1/Life Series

Sebastian Snag - SneegSnag - Origins SMP

Shelby Shrub - Shubble - Empires SMP Season 1

Shell B. Moore - Shubble - Empires SMP Season 2

Shelly Kidd - ImASquidKid - Hypixel/Close friends/rivals with Technoblade

Skipp Leman - Skizzleman - Life Series

Skye Mon Starr - Stressmonster101 - Hermitcraft

Slime - Slimecicle - Dream SMP

Sloy X. Pevtsov - SloyXP - The Hermitcraft Recap

Sunny Side - Sunny the Egg - QSMP

Sydney Nia - Squidney80 - Outsiders SMP

Sylvee Wiya - Sylveey - MCC

Tallulah Ash - Talullah the Egg - QSMP

Tango Teck - TangoTek - Hermitcraft/Life Series

Ted Nivison - Ted Nivison - Close friends with Slimecicle, Jschlatt and Wilbur Soot

The Blacksmith - Eddie the Rabbit - Empires SMP Season 2

The Goblin - FWhip - Empires SMP Season 2

The Mayor - LDShadowLady - Empires SMP Season 2

The Sorcerer - Setosorcerer - TeamCrafted

The Sunflower - MythicalSausage - Empires SMP Season 2

Thomas F. Chef - TinfoilChef/TFC - Hermitcraft

Tilín Quiroz - Tilín the Egg - QSMP

Tina Cat - TinaCat - Dream SMP/QSMP

Toby Sparks - Tubbo - Dream SMP/QSMP

Tommy Inet - TommyInnit - Dream SMP

Trisha Symmetry - FalseSymmetry - Empires SMP Season 2

Valero Siete - Vegetta777 - QSMP

Vidal Ator - Forevito - Former member of QSMP

Vikk Wontufree - Vikkstar123 - Dream SMP

Wally Bear - WallyBear - Friends with Purpled

Welles Knight - WelsKnight - Hermitcraft

Wilbur Soot - Wilbur Soot - Dream SMP

William Ash - Wilbur Soot - QSMP

Willow M. Veep - WillowMVP - Rats SMP

Willy Rex - WillyRex - QSMP

Xander B. Craft - xBCrafted - Hermitcraft

Xavi Suma - Xisumavoid - Hermitcraft

Xornoth Major - Xornoth - Empires SMP Season 1

XXXXXX

Yuki Akamine - SirCutieYuki - Yandere High School

Zak Ahmed - Skeppy - Dream SMP

Zed Play - Zedaph - Hermicraft

#statement begins au

5 notes · View notes

urlocalbunny · 4 years ago

Note

F-fluff please. I‘m lacking pre-dating fluff in the game. How about Vampire’s reaction to Eloise giving them affection for the first time, kissing his knuckles, a kiss on the cheek. Or first kissy or hug 🥰 They’re so guarded, emotionally, they must be surprised at least. I need flufffff (I hope this isn’t too vague)

Hello, anonie! Here it is! I hope you enjoy it.

Much loves *smooches ur forehead if you want and let me.*

Aaron:

Eloise was initially training with him. It was a productive night and they'd decided to shower and wrap it up. Eloise rested a little inside the tub, then she decided to drink some hot chocolate.

When she sat in the parlor in front of the fire, Aaron's presence made itself known as he approached her room and knocked. She smiled, waiting for him to pick on her trace. Soon enough, he stepped uncertainly through the stairs and opened the door. He sighed in relief.

"Thought I was passed out somewhere?" He nodded, blushing. She patted the space close to him from inside the thick blanket. He sat down awkwardly given his size, but Eloise grabbed his legs, making him sit comfortably and giving him a cup. "You said you can drink."

Aaron looked into her eyes, then he nodded, taking a small sip. Eloise laughed when his eyes widened, drinking more. A mustache formed on top of his lips. He licked it. The girl, then, did something that had Aaron's heart skipping more than a few beats.

Her hand lifted the blanket, covering him and scooting closer. Her hand held his, kissing his reddened knuckles. "You put a lot of effort into helping me. Thank you, Aaron. I promise I'll do my best to help you out too." Her head rested against his arm. Eloise slept after a while, but Aaron's heart was still beating loudly, more than any bark or howl he'd heard from the packs he's seen.

Raphael:

"But was Werther really friends with Charlotte at all? I mean, he's always seen her under a lover's perspective." This sentence made Raphael's hands shake in distress.

"Miss... Do you mean to tell me you think a man who has always liked a woman has more difficulty to be her friend?" He was thankful for the blindfold because his eyes darted everywhere.

"I mean... If suddenly the love is over, would anything in her seem interesting to him anymore? I think if he tries to befriend her first, it's actually genuine." His hands stopped shaking. He bit back the biggest smile he could muster in a while.

"They could be friends like us." She said, sitting on the armrest and holding the side of Raphael's head tenderly, kissing his forehead. "Then, think of something more from there. But alas, this is merely a book and Charlotte was already betrothed to a man."

"You mean to tell me we... You...?" "You know how to read between the lines, Raphael. I like that about you." With a last kiss on the cheek, Eloise left. Raphael covered his burning face with his hands, squealing and shaking his feet slightly.

Beliath:

Beliath felt the wind whip on his face on the narrow way to the manor after the club. He was buzzing a little, Ethan was talking and he listened to him just fine, but he wasn't answering like he was when they left the club. He laughed at the younger one's joke, seeing the lights on.

The door opened, and a smaller, bouncing silhouette jumped at the door. Ethan snorted in amusement, wishing him a good night and walking past her with a nod. Eloise stepped outside, smiling at him.

"Hey, you're home!" Everything after that went by really fast. Eloise wrapped her arms on his neck, holding him as close as she could while standing on her tiptoes. His heart raced, but he held her back after a little aftershock.

They didn't part ways for a while, and a few seconds in, he knew that if this hug was just a one-time thing, he was going to feel bad for the rest of the days they'd spend together. So he closed his eyes, brows furrowed, and squeezed her tight, making her giggle.

He sighed loudly, resting his face in the crook of her neck when he leaned down a little. Her body was warm, probably from the fireplace, and her smell was so sweet that he wished they would be more. He didn't even get scared anymore. He was in love with her.

Vladimir:

Vladimir was pent up after a few bad events and planning for some party Beliath wanted to host, so when Eloise saw him stomping up the halls to his room, she decided to go after him.

The girl barged in his room, making him frown as if he was about to explode, but she made a surrendering gesture to appease him and he kept it at bay, sighing in exasperation instead. She held his hand that untied his tie, doing it for him instead. He blushed deeply and his eyes widened.

"W-what are you d-doing, miss?" "Helping you out." She said, folding it carefully and putting it on the right place. She walked back to him, and untied his hair. "Sit down." Eloise kneeled on his bed after picking up a brush, starting to detangle his hair softly.

Even if he had the courage to say something, he didn't have the wish to. Her hands worked softly, complimenting his hair and giving him advice. He would've been angry had it been someone else in other situation, but her voice showed nothing but concern.

After that, Eloise wished him a good night, but he held her wrist, leading it to his head shyly. She giggled, the sweetest sound to his ears right now. Even after sleeping, Vladimir's face that looked so angry, for once, looked peaceful.

Ethan:

Ethan was dancing. Eloise and him were together while Beliath did anything else. It didn't matter because Ethan was in a battle on his mind. Something that wasn't on his plans came up in form of butterflies on his stomach.

Eloise was dancing under the blue lights, her hips swayed to the song and her hair flew around, the faint strawberry scent made him dizzy. Except it wasn't dizzy. He was flustered. Eloise noticed him halt his movements and approached him, swinging her head in a goofy way to make him laugh.

He couldn't stop his giggle, forgetting for a second that the sole reason of his problems was approaching him. Fast. He didn't back off, it was too late and would be suspicious.

Eloise smiled at him, holding his hands and clasping them on her waist. He stiffened, but she quickly whispered in his ear, "I'm sorry, if you want, we can dance from afar." He was no wimp, so he held her close, feeling her arms slide around his neck.

Ethan didn't know when, but Eloise was close. So close that they did so much as graze their lips together. The shock was so amazing that he didn't know what to do and backed off, asking her if she was crazy. "You leaned in!" She laughed. He just snorted, but his arms didn't budge as they danced.

Ivan:

Eloise was taking care of him. It was hard enough that he made her go through this pain, but she also had to put up with him. Giving him blood, treating his wounds and helping him clean.

Eloise didn't seem to mind as she munched on a big bowl of soup close to his bed, bouncing happily. He observed and made a note on his head: Elo likes Beliath's soup recipe. Ask him about it later.

His eyes examined the soup, trying to see which bits she liked the most and which ones she pushed away, but when his eyes followed the spoon, her big ones looked at him with amusement, munching away. He blushed, lowering his eyes.

Eloise looked at the bowl, then at him, repeated it a few times as if making a choice, then she left the bowl on the desk, lifting the sheets from his body. "Is it time to change the bandages?"

"Not yet. You're almost a hundred percent. You look like you want a hug. Can we?" He stuttered, covering his face, but he scooted over. Eloise smiled, pulling him to her front side and latching her arms around his waist. He could only see the crook of her neck and the side of her soft cheek. His heart pounded like crazy on his chest as he held her back and curled up against her, smelling her perfume. Tears prickled his eyes.

#moonlight lovers #moonlight lovers headcanons #sfwbunny #bunny's writing #moonlight lovers fanfiction #ml aaron #ml ethan #ml beliath #ml raphael #ml ivan #ml vladimir #moonlight lovers fluff

49 notes · View notes

falcon-eye · 4 years ago

Text

So I’ve been writing on my phone and this one almost made me lose my shit because when initially hitting “copy” I accidentally hit “paste” and deleted the entire fucking thing. Thank GOD gmail keeps a copy of your notes. Holy shit.

Again made for @inexplicifics Accidental Warlord AU

Veko and Eloise’s domestic adventures continue! I’m so happy people actually like them! I’ve grown so close to them both. This will be part of their bigger story, because since I’ve been writing on my phone they’ve been really small and when I expound on them I want to add more details before all this, like about Veko and Hamra and all that. So consider these teasers I guess? That’s why the endings feel so abrupt. Or that’s the excuse I keep telling myself. I don’t know. But when I finally post everything it will be on AO3, and I may put these little ficlets on AO3 as a fic as well.

Anyway hope you enjoy this one! Veko and Eloise return!

——————

The next time Veko saw Eloise was just as bizarre as the first. Except this time, she ended up helping him as opposed to him saving her father again. It was, somehow, even more awkward.

It was a few weeks of a full year later. What was supposed to just be one kikimora turned into a while nest, and despite this, the alderman barely wanted to pay him what he said he would for the one kill, let alone a whole cluster of them. He wouldn’t even let Veko inside. Luckily it had almost literally just stopped raining. But it was getting to the point where Veko was having to take a few calming breaths between the arguing; the alderman was a miserable prick, but Veko didn’t want to snap on the guy.

“You take what I give ye an’ be done with it!” the alderman shouted, reaching for the dagger at his belt. “Or you’ll get no coin and—“

“Husband!” a woman’s voice rang out. Veko and the alderman jumped; fucking rain and yelling, making Veko’s senses dull. A small force practically ran into him from the side and wrapped a hand around his elbow. “What seems to be the problem?”

“Uh—“

“Eloise!” the alderman exclaimed. Oh shit, that’s where Veko knew her from! “Nothing t’ worry about, this Witcher was jus’ leaving.”

Eloise turned to Veko, pressing closer. “You were?” she asked, faking concern to apparently Veko’s ears only. “But darling, you just got here!”

Veko’s mind went totally blank. “Hello?” he said dumbly.

The alderman’s eyes narrowed. “What?” he hissed. “Eloise, this man—“

“Is my beloved,” Eloise cut in. The alderman’s mouth shut with an audible click. “Last year, don’t you remember? The Witcher that saved my father from those drowners!”

Veko continued to stare at her.

“But—“ the alderman stammered.

“Now what’s with all this shouting over here?” Eloise barreled on.

“I sent this Witcher here to kill the kikimora roamin’ about,” the alderman said.

Eloise gave Veko’s arm a little shake to snap him back into the conversation. “I, uh,” he stammered. “It wasn’t just one. There was a whole nest.”

Eloise clapped a hand over her mouth and gasped dramatically. “A whole nest!” she exclaimed, drawing the attention of the townspeople nearby. “My goodness! I’m so glad it’s been taken care of! Oh, Lennart, I don’t know what we would have done had a whole nest of those beasts descended upon the town!”

People were starting to whisper. The alderman—Lennart’s heart rate sped up. “Oh, well yes, I, eh, was good indeed.” He looked like he was trying to both glare at Veko and keep the shock of Eloise’s outburst off his face at the same time—and failing.

Eloise finally let go of Veko and took the alderman’s hands. “Do you need help with the coin?” she asked innocently. “For the additional kikimora? I know things have been difficult since Nora left—“

“I can handle it!” Lennart exclaimed, eyes darting around at the growing mass of people who’d come to hear about the monsters. The alderman patted Eloise’s hands and laughed nervously. “I mean, that’s alright dear! I-I’ve plenty of coin for the Witcher here! Let me—I’ll go get it.”

Lennart raced back into his house and the crowd of people began to disperse, clearly boring of the now dwindling conversation. Veko was still not sure what the fuck just happened. But before he could ask, the alderman burst back outside and practically threw a pretty hefty sack of coin into Veko’s hands.

“Splendid!” Eloise exclaimed, and then turned to Veko one more. “Shall we go, darling?”

Veko nodded, letting himself be led away, once again, by this bizarre woman. But just before Lennart went back inside, Veko turned to him, held up the bag of coin, and winked. Lennart turned an ugly red and slammed the door behind him.

“Fucking weaselly prick,” Eloise hissed. Veko guffawed.

“Holy shit,” he said. “Where did you even come from? How did you find me? What—what the hell was that?!”

Eloise held up a hand and ticked answers off her fingers. “I was in town putting an order for paints in, saw your horse tied to a tree near the edge of town, and Lennart is a right prick but easy to exploit because of it. His wife Nora left a few weeks ago with some adventurer who came through town. She knew he’d been trying to bed any girl in sight and rightfully left.”

Veko pocketed the bag of coin. “Well I’m not going to complain,” he said.

Eloise tucked her hand into the crook of his arm again. “Are you planning on staying?” she asked. “Papa says it’s supposed to rain; he can feel it in his knees, he says.”

Veko started itching at his burns. “I, uh—“

“Right, coming with me then.”

Veko laughed again and Eloise guide the way.

——————————————————

For having apparently acquired Eloise and her home, this was the first time Veko had actually been inside. It was cozy, the walls painted a pale pink and yellow. The kitchen was warm and smelled amazing, Eloise having apparently left something cooking while she’d been out.

Peering into the next room, the apparent main room of the house, Veko found bottles of paints and an assortment of brushes set up at an easel against the far window (splattered in paint); blank canvases were piled behind it. But actually giving the room a look-around, his attention was immediately drawn to the walls lined floor to ceiling with the most beautiful paintings Veko had ever seen.

Landscapes of what Veko recognized as the local stream and the goat paddock out back, faces he didn’t recognize but could have started up a conversation with him with how real they looked, random assortments of everyday items put together to make some interesting structure—there was art everywhere.

Veko didn’t realize he was gaping until he heard Eloise chuckle. “Like what you see?” she asked.

“They’re amazing,” Veko replied, reaching towards a painting of a young boy.

“Don’t touch!” Eloise snapped; Veko jumped. “Sorry, sorry, they’re just—when they dry the colors fade of you touch them.”

“Sorry,” Veko said, shoving his hand into his pocket.

Eloise shook her head. “It’s always been a dream of mine to be a famous painter. Sometimes I get commissions or sell some in Oxenfurt. There’s a man who comes by to take them to market every now and then. Anyway, apparently my father went to bed early,” she said. “Stew?” Eloise chuckled. “I can paint a delicious meal but actually cooking it, eh...”

Now it was Veko’s turn to laugh. “I’d love some, whatever it tastes like,” he said. “And—thank you, for that shit with the alderman.”

Eloise waved him off. “Honestly? Bringing you up has been doing wonders around here,” she said.

As Veko sat down at the table, he remembered: “Did you call me husband?”

“How long ago was that and you’re just realizing that now?”

“In my defense, you came out of nowhere!”

“Aren’t you supposed to be this great warrior with heightened senses?”

Instead of answering, Veko leaned forward and smirked. “You think I’m great?”

Eloise stared at him for a moment before scoffing and shoveling a spoonful of soup into her mouth. “A great pain in my arse,” she said, “and you’ve only been here five minutes.”

“Might I remind you that you’re the one who dragged me here.”

“Yeah, because you looked like a bloody kicked puppy when I asked!”

“Kitten.”

Eloise blinked. “What?”

Veko tapped his medallion. “I’m from the School of the Cat, so I’d be a kitten.”

There was a moment of silence before Eloise let out a ‘PFFFT!’ and burst out laughing. “Did you really just—“

“I can leave right now!” Veko exclaimed, but there was no heat behind it. Eloise’s laugh was loud and hoarse, hardly ladylike or cute, but for some reason Veko liked hearing it. He wanted to hear it again.

Eloise wiped tears from her eyes. “Just eat your stew, Witcher,” she said.

“Veko,” Veko said. “My name is Veko.”

“Veko,” Eloise repeated, like she was getting used to how it sounded. “Nice to officially meet you, husband.”

Veko started scratching his burns. “Oh gods.”

Eloise smacked his hand like she’d done last year. “Stop doing that,” she snapped. “You’re going to make it worse.”

“I’ve had it for fifteen years; I don’t think it’s going to get worse.”

Eloise was quiet. “How—? Never mind.”

“No, it’s ok,” Veko reassured her. “My brother and I got into a fight. Or something. I can’t remember. But it was an accident, either way.”

“Is your brother also a Witcher?”

Veko nodded, having just stuffed his face with stew again. “Yah,” he said, his mouth full. He swallowed. “Identical twins, actually. Though my hair’s longer and he’s a bit bulkier than I am. His name’s Hamra.”

“Veko and Hamra,” Eloise said, “twin Cat Witchers, huh?”

“Yes ma’am,” Veko replied. Over the course of the meal, Veko explained the basics about the Cats and their caravan, how they worked and why they occasionally split up. Eloise, for her part, only asking questions when he’d finished a story and let him talk most of the conversation. Normally, talking is what Veko was used to, but both times he’d been with this woman she’d shocked him into silence. It was nice to be comfortable again.

Night settled quickly and when they finished their respective meals, Eloise took both their bowls to wash. “I’m going to set a cot up for you,” she said over her shoulder.

“What, no bed?” Veko teased.

“Other than my father's bed, there’s only one other and it’s mine,” Eloise replied.

“Not enough room for husband and wife?”

Eloise suddenly turned serious. Without even turning to him she said, “I’ll not bed you, Witcher.”

Veko held his hands up in surrender, even though her back was still turned. “Ok,” he said softly. “Just messing around, sorry. Didn’t mean to upset you, truly.”

Eloise sighed deeply and finally turned to him. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I just. I don’t want that. From anyone, ever. It’s—it’s hard to explain. Just thinking about... that... makes me... extremely uncomfortable.”

Veko nodded. “I understand,” he said. “I mean, I don’t, but I respect that.”

Eloise smiled. “Thank you,” she said.

“Is that why me being your husband is useful?” Veko asked; Eloise’s heart rate sped up. “I don’t have a problem with that!” he quickly assured her. “It’s just, last year you said something to that effect.”

Eloise looked him in the eye for a moment, maybe trying to assess if he was telling the truth? And then nodded. “Yes.”

“Well, that’s no problem here,” Veko said. “Gods know I only really come through this area once a year. I could swing by to keep up appearances.”

“And I could help you bleed Lennart dry of all his coin.”

Veko smirked. “I like the way you think.”

Eloise smirked back. “I think this is going to be a very successful partnership.”

#the witcher #witcher oc #accidental warlord au #inexplicifics #falcon writes

67 notes · View notes

ubemango · 5 years ago

Text

commission 4: slow burn/best friends/college au w/ jin

(+or: we’re best friends and you’re literally So Great and i suck at knowing what i want but anyway i’m starting to think i like you ??????? au)

note 1: For my very very sweet and understanding friend @yeuj who helped me out when I needed it most .... I hope you enjoy 🥺🥺💕!!!!!! And thank you to Micah + Clove for helping me with my questions—thank you for your thoughtfulness, insight, and love!!!!! 🌷🌷🌷

note 2: I tried to make ramen-making as unboring as possible but it really is just....water and spice. If you’re confused about eating ramen at convenience stores please search that up on Youtube, I’ve exhausted my link resource skills (except for when I want you to listen to songs.) Also, the songs I mention are titanic/the end by cehryl and Subside by Eloise. I actually listened to Sweet Night on repeat while writing this so if u wanna listen to that... ;_;

note 3: everything about this story is in medias res. I realized I had no proper beginning or conclusion and I didn’t wanna change the flow of the story by concretely adding one or the other... so if the story feels incomplete/fragmented then please understand that this was a conscious and intentional decision done on my part :,) It’s slow burn!!!! I Love you ha ha!!

(i)

The library is open twenty four hours. The convenience store in the student centre is not.

“Please use your car,” you assert.

Seokjin huffs. “Then pay for my gas.”

It’s an empty threat. He’s got no business driving hard bargains when he has capital in the form of a rich CEO dad. He ignores your glaring, calmly closing his laptop, shoving it into his bag. Closing up shop after a derivative crisis you’d called him up for because he lives on campus, plus he never sleeps early. You appreciate that he gives into you so easily.

“Fine.”

So you go, searching for a convenience store that has those instant noodles you suddenly came up with a craving for this late at night. Seokjin’s used to it by now. You get things done when you want to, even if it means making a home of the pillowy chairs in the library you’d claimed for studying purposes.

The mathematical theory of chaos. You don’t want to think about it, and you click your seatbelt with a yell, throw your bag in the backseat with as much strength your anger allows for. “I hate school!”

“Please don’t scream in the car.”

“I hate it!”

Seokjin slots the key in. “Can you look up where the convenience store is?”

He tosses you his phone to unlock. You jab at the screen with more grumbling and colourful cursing, pulling up whatever Google Maps says is the nearest store open.

“Plug in the AUX cord,” Seokjin urges next. He merges into traffic, which is really only one car and the late night bus. A quiet night for your suffering.

“Can I play my—“

“Nope.” You sneer. Tapping open his playlists, you pass under orange lamp post after orange lamp post and scroll in silence before Seokjin groans. “I made a new playlist, pick that one.”

“What’s it called?”

You can see that he’s stiffened up. You don’t comment. “The one with the three heart emojis.”

Simple enough. You don’t care to sift through the songs, and the first one plays with one more indulgent tap of the screen.

Why don’t you tell her? I think you should. You know how you’re feeling, you can’t fight the truth…

Google interrupts the soft voice with the indication of the next right. Seokjin eases on the gas pedal. You watch him nod his head to the softness of the stereo. “I can’t pay for your gas.”

“I know you can’t.”

“I can pay for your ramen,” you suggest. Seokjin makes a quiet noise, like he’s amused by your generosity, or maybe he just thinks you’re dumb. You think it’s the latter.

“I don’t want you to pay for my ramen.”

“Then what do you want?”

The lamp post light striking Seokjin’s face gives way to the harsh red of the stoplight. In the stillness, he sends you a hard look. It makes you feel weirdly vulnerable, like he’s stripped you bare.

To make things worse, Seokjin says:

“Nothing you don’t want to give me.”

He doesn’t heed your confusion because he presses on the gas, looks straight ahead. You do too, and you try not to contemplate the cool brevity of his attention you suddenly want back. You push your uncertainty aside.

(He has a handsome face, you think.)

Seokjin interrupts, “So why’d you wait till now to study?”

“You know me.” Procrastination. The complete and utter mistake of underestimating the allotted time needed to get a successful grasp of concepts for your midterm. In not so convoluted terms, this class sucks ass.

“Yeah but that was—a lot of notes.”

It was. You probably pushed five weeks of material in the span of three hours. You can feel the very tips of your nervous system frying up as you pass through gas station-lit intersections. But there’s a real answer to his question, and you have the intense need to curl in on yourself in this leather seat.

“Well I would have started yesterday, but I was busy,” you counter.

“With what?”

“So you know Hyukjae from Psych?”

Seokjin pauses to listen to Google’s instructions, and immediately makes a left onto another main intersection. “Sure.”

“We went out yesterday,” you admit.

He hums a tight sound, tapping on the wheel. “Hm. How’d it go?”

It wasn’t bad. You shared butter tarts and laughed at his anecdotes and Hyukjae-from-Psych paid for your Uber home. He gave you a very weak hug before you slipped into the car. It was in that seat you’d decided you wouldn’t be sending him an I had fun! text that night.

“It was okay. Like, nice to me and stuff. But nothing…”

“…Worth revisiting.”

“Sure,” you mimic, and you wonder why he’s right.

“The guy’s okay,” he says. Almost like it’s with relief. “It’s—not to sound rude, but. Uh. I think it’s, uh—good. That you weren’t… interested.”

You think he’s gripping the steering wheel a little too tight. “Why?”

“Can’t trust guys with bad handshakes.” Seokjin chances a glance at you, and laughs at the confused scrunch of your eyebrows. “I met him during that networking conference in third year. Limp-wristed me. Like a chump.”

“Ew.” You can’t say he’s wrong. That hug Hyukjae gave you really was weak. The dude has noodles for arms. “But yeah, I guess you’re right. Wasn’t really my type.”

“Hm,” is all Seokjin comes up with. You watch him pass right through the turn Google tells him to take. “Oh shit. Sorry. I’m just. Thinking. About… limp… men.”

You snort. “What?”

“Like a man. A limp man. Hyukjae. Not me,” he clarifies fast—proudly— “just. Anyway! Back to you saying what your type was.”

“I wasn’t,” you accuse.

“Yeah well now I’m asking because I don’t wanna think about limp men. Your type, please.”

He sounds weirdly inquisitive. Demanding, almost. You chalk it up to the near-delirium of being awake past 1AM.

“I—don’t know,” you start. Somehow you feel like you’re messing something up. “He was kind, I like… kind. And soft. Sweet. You know Kim Taehyung? From Neuro? Like, almost big shoulders but not really. I like big shoulders. Yeah. Guys like Kim Taehyung-ish.”

Seokjin just hums again. There’s another song playing, and you don’t know how many you’ve rotated through in this playlist. You didn’t think it’d take this long to get to the store.

Google says it’s just two minutes away now. Seokjin says, “Cool,” and then sings along to the stereo.

You got me losing sleep over you… I usually sit still but now I can’t help but move… When I see you, I don’t know what to do…

(ii)

“Spicy or not spicy?”

“Whatever keeps my stomach lining intact,” Seokjin says.

You don’t say anything more and grab two of whatever ramen packaging isn’t scarily red. The convenience store is void of any customers, and the cashier rings you up with a very sour face for interrupting the show he’s got playing on his phone. His face shrivels up even more because all you can pay with is coins. Seokjin laughs behind you when you apologize for clattering the dimes too harshly on the counter.

“Enjoy,” the cashier announces, and he doesn’t mean it one bit.

The hot water machine at the back is a very intimidating thing next to the tiny display of cookies. Too many buttons and knobs you don’t understand, so Seokjin takes on the chivalric role and prepares everything for you. He rips the plastic open with gentle hands. Dumps the powder with too much conviction.

You both watch the water stream hot into the noodles. “Do you like macadamia nuts in your cookies?”

“I guess,” you say.

“Wanna split a cookie?” He hands you chopsticks to stir the ramen with, gestures at the cookie display with a jut of his chin.

“Are you paying?”

“Can you imagine if I made you pay after I asked to split,” Seokjin spits at you. “Yes I’m paying.”

“Then I want chocolate chip.”

He freezes, then jabs smartly at his noodles for a tense ten seconds.

“You make me mad,” he finally answers. “Should we eat in the car?”

“The bowl is too hot to hold.”

The counter at the window it is. You’re sad that you didn’t buy pickled radish, but your coin purse has weeped all its coinage out. Seokjin leaves you as Noodle Guard, going off to pay for that bonus cookie with a crumpled five. In the next second you contemplate the evaporation of ramen soup, the cookie is duly dumped right next to you, and Seokjin takes a huge bite of what still appears to be extremely hot noodles.

He promptly chokes, and makes sputtering noises.

“Holy shit,” Seokjin cries.

You take a much, much slower bite. “You’ll be fine.”

“I thought I could be cool for you,” he cries some more.

“You don’t need to be cool for me. Who eats ramen in a cool way?”

Seokjin nods his approval, that tear of theatrics sliding down his cheekbone. He eats carefully. A noisy car roils on outside, and passes quickly outside your periphery.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” you remember to say.

“I love standing at counters and eating things hot,” Seokjin retorts. He dodges the fist you aim at his abdomen with swift ease. “It’s no problem.”

“I—“ You don’t really know why but you need to talk. “You know—you’re really, um, kind.”

Foolery. Absolute foolery that sentence was, and the cashier probably heard that foolery, and Seokjin definitely heard that absolute foolery, and he’s laughing. Like really laughing, caught with the noodles dangling from in-between his teeth. That’s all you had to say? The guy drove you out to get cup noodles out of his own volition. That’s kindness maxed out, and he deserves better than you fumbling between your teeth. Your nerves have fried up so bad, you guess.

Seokjin’s giggles dwindle down. “Thanks,” he says, smiling small.

You blame the heat of your cheeks from the heat of your soup.

Neither of you are desperate to get to that last quarter of noodles to broth ratio. The knots of your shoulders loosen with the sound of your slurping combined, and silently you are reminded of Seokjin’s warmth, standing so close to you.

The easiest path to a nice ending involves a happy belly and Seokjin driving you home with nothing more than a goodbye and a thank-you as you slam the car door shut. This is not unknown to you, because you and Hyukjae-from-Psych took that easy path yesterday.

You just don’t do this often, contemplating all the routes of romance. When is it appropriate to laugh at a joke, to wipe your mouth on the napkin? To smile and peel at your heart and grant that person access to all your inner workings? You belatedly notice that Seokjin did not bring napkins.

(The moment in the car—nothing you don’t want to give me—you want to laugh at his jokes, and smile, peel and peel and peel at your heart, but slowly. Slowly, you put your chopsticks down.)

How funny it is to come to very sound conclusions within a split second, because all you know is that it feels good, being with him like this.

Seokjin, in your quiet realization, takes it upon himself to decide the cookie-eating rights.

“Want the first bite?” He asks, propping the chopsticks horizontally on his bowl.

You nod. Desperately you try not to look at him because you might make more realizations, and you don’t think you’re ready for any more unleashed and unknown emotions. “Please.”

He gives it to you. The right side decidedly has more chocolate chips, and it’s a very nice explosion on your tongue. So nice you groan into it. “Oh that’s really good.”

He snatches the cookie away before you can take another bite. “I get bigger bites because I paid for it.”

“That—? Uh, that’s not how sharing works.”

“Yes it does,” Seokjin argues. But he just takes as normal a bite as ever. You can’t say you don’t focus on his mouth for too long, though—

—And you immediately seize up at the thought. Horrified, you shriek: “Actually just—have the rest of it!”

He looks alarmed. “O…kay?”

“You’ve got a nice mouth,” you blurt out next.

An absolutely awful feeling settles heavy in your stomach. Because almost immediately you realize that this is a kind and soft boy with nice anecdotes that have yet to be uncovered this night (he likes telling you stories) and he’s got wider shoulders than Kim Taehyung and you’re not sharing butter tarts but you’re sharing a cookie with him.

Another realization: does Seokjin have limp arms?

He puts the cookie down. (His arm looks very strong, doing that.) “I—thanks?”

“I think I’m losing my mind,” you note.

He watches you slump over the counter. Purposefully burying your face in your elbows to muffle your betraying mouth. “It’s late,” is all he says.

“Did that make you uncomfortable?”

“Not at all.” You don’t think you’re breathing. Your lungs have evaporated, like those steamy ramen noodles you just ate. Seokjin probably notices you’ve stopped moving, so he says, “Really.”

“Okay.”

“Did it—did it make you uncomfortable?”

“Not at all,” you say.

“Cool. Do you wanna go—“

You stand up straight, grab all your garbage before he finishes. You don’t look at him. “Yep, yep, please.”

(iii)

He puts the key in the ignition, and doesn’t budge.

“Somehow I feel like you wanna say something else,” Seokjin says.

You curl your hands into fists. “It’s late.”

“I’m aware.”

“I’m—I’m sorry.” You are acutely aware of how garbled you must sound. It’s starting to get on your nerves, how flimsy you’re being. “I’m not… thinking.”

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re being pretty articulate for someone with an empty brain.”

“Are you making fun of me?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” Seokjin sighs.

The seat squeaks where you tense up. “I don’t want to think about your mouth.”

“Do you wanna know what I think?” You nod. Jesus. You’ll just let him do the talking from now on because your tongue can’t be trusted this early in delirium, late in the hour. “I—I…”

Seokjin struggles some more, then deflates. He starts laughing.

“I… don’t drive just anyone out to convenience stores at two in the morning for ramen. You have to know that.” He clears his throat. His eyes are shiny with the harsh glare of neon signs. “I guess I just—wanna know… what you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinking…” Your lips part. Searching for words feels like a physical thing—your stomach is swimming with what feels like a billion thoughts but nothing comes up for air. “I’m thinking I—don’t want to say the wrong thing.”

Seokjin turns to look at you. “I won’t make fun,” he whispers.

“I think. I think, you look—um—really… Good. Um. R-Really… good, right now.”

“Thanks.” He looks up like he wants to say something but his eyes harden where he gazes, locking in on the dust motes of the windshield. Your lungs swell small in the quietude. “I think you really look good, too.”

If baser compliments already have you burning then you don’t know what you’d do if he tried anything more romantically complex. Some people are meant for loud love stories and grand gestures and you—all you can do is think too much and you want to say more but Seokjin understands. He understands your silence, your ineptitude.

In a fit of controlled passion, you reach over the console, grasping at his knuckles till he flips his palm right into yours.

“Feels… ”

You wait for something to come to mind. A phrase, a proper thought to give utterance to, all the failures and successes of the night. Faithfully, nothing comes.

It just feels.

And Seokjin seems to agree. He holds tight between the grooves of your fingers.

“You’re very pretty and it hurts,” he says, and he doesn’t try to meet your gaze, and one feeling comes resolute: it feels right.

#bts scenarios #seokjin scenarios #jin scenarios #bts #jin #seokjin #ubemango fic #f: commissions

201 notes · View notes

askahumblesquip · 5 years ago

Text

Jace was relaxed and was with Justice. When the weather around them became stormy, and then Justice was gone.

“Justice!” They called out. He heard his name called and ran towards the woods. He felt as if he ran forever before he seen Justice tied up calling to him.

“Jace help me!” And just as they got close to Justice, they were pushed down and woke up.

He shot up gasping for air from his dream. He looked around and seen his paintings then Oliver on the chair across the room.

“O-Oliver?”

They ran over and hugged him. “It’s okay... it was a dream. And you’re safe now.”

He sniffles then nods.

“Y-yeah...”

“We should have just sent them off! We shouldn’t be keeping programs around, especially ones we didn’t intend having around in the first place.” Connor said.

Alyssa rolls her eyes. “Connor relax, I’m sure they’re something special. I wasn’t wrong about Adam was I?”

Neither of the other programs could argue with that.

A while after the aforementioned program shot up from the bed they were on. Alyssa was sitting on the foot of the bed, Connor leaning against the doorway, and Shane sitting in the windowsill.

“W-who are you?” They ask. Alyssa smiles gently at them.

“My name’s Alyssa. What about you?”

They swallow hard and shiver, pulling the blanket closer. “Gene. My name’s Gene.”

“Lovely meeting you Gene. Lets get some nice hot soup in you, hm?”

They nod and relax as Alyssa leads them down to the kitchen. She explains that there’s a room ready for them, and they can get changed after having some dinner.

Over dinner there was laughter shared, as Connor shared stories. Shane took care of the dishes and made sure everyone had what they wanted.

Meanwhile Adam worked tirelessly. Managing to devise a system that didn’t involve capturing people. But monitoring from afar. So he stood outside of Salem’s house in the cold and dark, to check theirs and Jordan’s system.

Jenna barks. “Jen! Shh, we’re working.”

She barks again and is facing away from him. He turns and sees Eloise.

“Oh shoot...” with that he was set asleep, and Eloise sighs but brings him in. Jenna growls before running off.

“Now we wait... to see who you are.” She said and set him on the couch.

#text post #kinda plot #jace #oliver #gene #alyssa #shane #connor #eloise #salem #adam #jordan #plot post

1 note · View note

moncgasque · 6 years ago

Text

- ̗̀✰ •【 LEIGHTON MEESTER / CISF / 30 】announcing the arrival of her royal highness, ( REGINA LÉONIE GRIMALDI ), the ( CROWN PRINCESS ) of ( MONACO ). I’ve heard that she is ( GULLIBLE ) & ( SARCASTIC ) but can also be ( OUTSPOKEN ) & ( SENTIMENTAL ). ( REGINA ) is arranged to marry ( WYATT MIKKELSEN ). Rumor has it (SHE'S THE LEADER OF AN ANIMALIST NON-PROFIT ORG THAT FIGHTS AGAINST CORPORATIONS THAT POLLUTE THE OCEANS). We hope you enjoy your stay at London!

oh look ! it’s ailie back at it again with a new chara . anyway below u get an overly - funfactic something abt this bb that resembles that girl from gossip girl in a freaky scary way !!

so europe is torn between standing her as monaco’s future queen and thinking she’s unfit , not because of anything major she just keeps distractedly drinking the bowl water like it’s soup in important dinners , also keeps tripping on that one low step that leads to the throne room , and insists on helping the staff clear the table . outrageous .

i mean girl’s the oldest but also she has a plethora of sisters , and only two years older than eloise , so she never got to enjoy that mythical single daughter bliss . instead , she’s Older Sister Supreme and does her best to be close to them , despite wanting to ring their necks sometimes . it’s all sisterly affection , in the end .

she’s dramatic , in a very cute but exasperating way . like , she won’t dramatize someone else’s situation unless she can make it a fairytale fantasy or start talking about conspiracy theories , but also she will find a link between the numbers on the clock on her phone screen and why something went wrong

tHe UnIvErSe Is SeNdInG a MeSsAgE !! !!!!11!11!

superstitous at times like she will not pass the salt without putting it on the table so the other person can grab it . she doesn’t particularly enjoy walking underneath stairs butttt !!! she loves black cats , she loves cats

actually she loves all animals and finds more comfort in animals than she does in people most time

which is why she wanted to be a marine biologist were she not promised to the throne of monaco

lbr she still went to college and majored in marine biology , minoring in chemistry and enviromental science

somehow she ended up rounding a group of people and forming an organization that protests and moves tons of people to manifest against companies that pollute the ecosystem , especially anything water - related .

she isn’t afraid of bugs and will shriek at anybody that kills a spider instead of carrying it outside

she is the official delegate for putting away bugs

her bestie is WYATT MIKKELSEN who she’s known forever and has had feelings for even longer , possibly from a past life or something , but it turns out he’s also her fiancé now .

she had a previous engagement to CYRANO ARMATI for a couple of years but that fell through because it wasn’t politically convenient . they spent a couple of summers together and it was good fun , they got along , but ( at least on her side ) it was missing the SPARK !!

like first she was to be engaged to wyatt but neither of them knew that ( tho it was kinda obvious ???? so they had an inkling abt it ???? ) but then that one happened and then that one didn’t and bam here we are , peace summit

she’s nervous abt being engaged to her best friend

it’s called repressed feelings honey

anyway she didn’t really want to be queen ?????? clearly she wants to be overseas in a thermic suit rescuing penguins and cleaning the oceans from all the shitty plastic we throw in , but she’s got duties and that’s okay she will dream about it daily

actually she’s not that altruist , she didn’t abdicate only because she was raised and groomed to the throne , therefore she’s trained to it . whereas her sisters got a really tip top education but she doesn’t wish them the pressures of being heir , she wants them to be a little free’er than her to build the lives they want and live their Best Lives ^tm

she has her wild side tho ??????? she’s a nerd with a party strike and though when she was in her teens and her early twenties , girl enjoyed a good party and has tried her fair share of shit , she’s not so wild anymore and rlly likes several bottles of a good wine , good nugs to roll , and being in her underwear with no top on while playing mario kart or watching frida over n over

loves documentals like give her documentals through an IV and she’ll be good 2 go

also coffee through an IV , with cinnamon and vanilla , and sprinkles if it’s no inconvenience

is very !!!!!!!!!!!! EXCITABLE !!!!!!!!!!!!

also likes her silent times

has done some extreme sports and at the 5th time she didn’t get sick to her stomach success

she’s very highly educated and altho she’s a klutz and will drop shit and drop herself to the floor on her face and mistake several things all in under one minute , she’s becoming a very savvy and cunning politician

she’s a cute bundle of sweetness but also reserved in her true affections , which is when the sarcasm and the pranks come into play

oh how she loves a good prank , practical jokes are her fucken jam

she rlly loves kids tho but the thought of those being her offspring makes her go into a fit of hysteria in under 5 seconds

i’ll stop rambling now oops come plot w us pls !!!! i literally want every kind of connection and relation and plot , she’s sneaky and v kind - hearted and rlly tries to do best by everyone , sometimes not herself but everyone else for sure , but she fails and stirs crap

so lov usssssssssss

#buckingham:intro #* intro.

9 notes · View notes

pearlescentmoonfamilybracket · 2 months ago

Text

ROUND 1 POLL 13

StressSister101: Stress & Pearl

Dynamic: Siblings. Sisters. Found Family.

Headcanons: N/A (TBA?) vs

Sibling Soup: Eloise/Soup (outsiders smp) & Pearl

Dynamic: Siblings. Found Family. Biological Family.

Headcanons: They make soup together! Soup has to tend to Pearl's wounds often from being careless during Life SMP seasons (TBA?)

#pfmb #mcyt #mcyt polls #pearlescentmoon #pearlescentmoon family member bracket #hermitblr #hermitcraft #outsidersblr #mazeblr #outsiders smp #outsiderssmp #stressmonster101 #hermitcraft stress #soupforeloise #o!soup #outsiders soup #StressSister101 #sibling soup

19 notes · View notes

apocalypse----please · 7 years ago

Text

I’ll never get out of this world alive {Eloise & Nikolai}

Eloise awoke in her cot in the basement, her head swimming. Everything felt to be slow and floaty, for lack of better words. She couldn’t remember the last time her captor had fed her or given her water. She moved her head from side to side to try and observe her surroundings but everything was too dark, the windows were barricaded and offered only a small amount of residual light. She can hear a thumping on the basement door, followed by indistinguishable sounds. Moans? She couldn’t be sure, her mind was foggy and wasn’t sure of anything anymore including how long she’d been here. The sounds ceased and the door was thrown open and heavy feet hit the basement stairs. Internally she was beginning to panic but she kept a calm demeanour, not wanting whoever her captors were to see the fear she was experiencing.

“I’m down here,” Eloise yelled, her voice only slightly muffled. A small part of her was holding out hope that it was the police, finally staging a rescue. But instead one of her captors ran down the basement stairs, visibly distressed.

“We’ve gotta get outta here. Move now!” the voice of her captor always seemed familiar but she couldn’t place it in her current state. He grabbed her forearms roughly and shoved her towards the stairs. The fear she felt was imminent, he’d never brought her upstairs before. She stepped into an unfamiliar house, with empty cans of soup and water bottles strewn all over the floor. She could hear it again the sounds of moaning, this time accompanied by thudding and thumping on the windows and doors.

“What’s happening?” Eloise asked but her only response was another shove as her captor ushered her to the back door. They were leaving? Her captor lent in close to her ear from her behind her, speaking quietly. “Open it now,” he pulled out a knife, the blade was dragged along her back, along the ridges of her spine.

“What are you doing? Put that thing away.” she told him but she would not let her captor see any weakness, even if he was clearly impatient with her stalling.

“This isn’t for you.... Yet” her captor laughed darkly and she felt her stomach sink at that comment. “Open the fucking door.”

Eloise gritted her teeth unable to show her captor that he’d hurt her when he pressed the blade of the knife on the small of her back. She complied with her captor and opened the back door. She was left completely stunned, the moaning it was louder than ever as she could hear the heavy thudding of feet. “What are those things?!” Eloise exclaimed, backing up against the blade by accident in fear of what was outside the door.

“Move!” he yelled, giving her a firm shove towards the horde. Eloise watched in fear as his started stabbing the decaying humans in their heads. She placed a hand over her mouth to remain silent but one had noticed her. It advanced towards and reached for her, it had cold hands and sharp nails which were trying to break her skin. “Get off of me!” Eloise cried, giving the thing a huge shove which pushed it into her unsuspecting captor. It sunk it’s teeth into him with vigour and he screamed out, “You bitch!”

“I’m sorry -- I didn’t know!” Eloise replied with a helpless gasp as the others joined in feeding on him, using their sharp teeth and nails to claw and rip him to shreds. She backed away as those things were distracted and she ran. She ran as fast as she could until she felt the ache in her feet and legs, her muscles burning every time her bare feet connected with the cobblestone. Her heartbeat was frantic, pounding loudly in her ears. It was making it difficult to hear anything else other than her laboured breathing and the desperate thud of her heart. She glanced behind her, her long matted blonde hair whipping into her face. What was happening, tears began to sting in her eyes as she noticed more of those things lurking around. She ran into a small alley way and tripped, just barley catching herself as she crashed against the bricked wall and kept running. She tried to command her legs and feet to move faster but she’d depleted what little energy supply she had. Her head started to swim and she pushed her hair from her face as her vision started to fill with black spots.

30 notes · View notes

aion-rsa · 4 years ago

Text

Cover Reveal: Catriona Ward’s The Last House on Needless Street

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

Catriona Ward‘s The Last House on Needless Street is one of the most anticipated books of the year, with Stephen King himself singing its praises. King said of the gothic tale: “The buzz building around Catriona Ward’s The Last House on Needless Street is real. I’ve read it and was blown away. It’s a true nerve-shredder that keeps its mind-blowing secrets to the very end. Haven’t read anything this exciting since Gone Girl.”

Marketed as a cross between Gone Girl and The Haunting of Hill House, the psychological horror tells the tale of “a boarded-up house on a dead-end street at the edge of the wild Washington woods [where] lives a family of three” from multiple, distinct perspectives (including a cat’s!). We have an exclusive first look at the gorgeous cover for The Last House on Needless Street (designed by Katie Klimowicz, and executed by artist Corey Brickley), as well as an exclusive excerpt from the book’s beginning. Check out the cover below…

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

And here’s an excerpt from The Last House on Needless Street, showcasing the distinct voice of Ted, the book’s first narrator…

Ted Bannerman

Today is the anniversary of Little Girl With Popsicle. It happened by the lake, eleven years ago – she was there, and then she wasn’t. So it’s already a bad day when I discover that there is a Murderer among us.

Olivia lands heavily on my stomach first thing, making high- pitched sounds like clockwork. If there’s anything better than a cat on the bed, I don’t know about it. I fuss over her because when Lauren arrives later she will vanish. My daughter and my cat won’t be in the same room.

‘I’m up!’ I say. ‘It’s your turn to make breakfast.’ She looks at me with those yellow-green eyes then pads away. She finds a disc of sun, flings herself down and blinks in my direction. Cats don’t get jokes.

I fetch the newspaper from the front step. I like the local because it has a rare bird alert – you can write in if you see something spe- cial, like a northern flicker or a Siberian accentor. Even this early, the dim air is as warm as soup. The street feels even quieter than usual. Hushed, like it’s remembering.

When I see the front page my stomach goes into curls and knots.

There she is. I forgot it was today. I’m not so good with time.

They always use the same picture. Her eyes are big in the shadow of her hat brim, the fingers clenched on the stick as if she thinks someone might take it away from her. Her hair lies wet and sheeny on her skull, short as a boy’s. She has been swimming, but no one is wrapping her in a fluffy towel to dry her. I don’t like that. She might catch cold. They don’t print the other picture, the one of me. They got in big trouble for that. Though not big enough if you ask me.

She was six. Everyone was upset. We have a problem with that around here, especially by the lake, so things happened fast. The police searched the houses of everyone in the county who might hurt children.

I wasn’t allowed to wait inside while they did it, so I stood out on the steps. It was summer, bright and hot as the surface of a star. My skin burned slowly as the afternoon wore on. I listened as they pushed back the ugly blue rug in the living room, tore up the floorboards and knocked a hole in the wall in the back of my closet because they thought it sounded hollow. Dogs went all over my yard, my bedroom, everything. I knew what kind of dogs they were. They had the white trees of death in their eyes. A thin man with a camera came and took pictures as I stood there. I didn’t think to stop him.

‘No picture, no story,’ he said to me as he left. I didn’t know what that meant but he waved goodbye in a cheerful way so I waved back. ‘What is it, Mr Bannerman?’ The woman detective looked like possum. Very tired.

‘Nothing.’ I was shaking. Got to be quiet, Little Teddy. My teeth made little clicks like I was cold, but I was so hot.

‘You were yelling my name. And the word “green”, I believe.’ ‘I must have been thinking about this story I made up when I was a kid, about the lost boys who turned into green things, at the lake.’ She gave me a look. I knew it well. I get that look all the time. I held tight to the trunk of the little oak in the front yard. The tree lent me its strength. Was there something to tell? If so it hovered just over the edge of my thoughts.

‘Mr Bannerman, is this your only residence? No other property around here? No hunting cabin, nothing like that?’ She wiped sweat off her top lip. Care pressed down on her, like an anvil on her back. ‘No,’ I said. ‘No, no, no.’ She wouldn’t understand about the weekend place.

The police went away in the end. They had to, because I was at the 7-Eleven all afternoon and everyone says so. The security tape says so. What I used to do there was: I sat outside on the sidewalk by the sliding doors. When they parted with a whoosh and released people in a blast of cold air, I asked for candy. Sometimes if they had it they gave it to me, and sometimes they even bought it for me. Mommy would have been ashamed if she knew but I loved candy so much. I never went near the lake or Little Girl With Popsicle.

When they finally finished and let me back in the house I could smell them all over. Traces of cologne, sweat, squeaky rubber and chemicals. I was upset that they’d seen my precious things, like the picture of Mommy and Daddy. The photograph was fading even then, their features growing pale. They were leaving me, vanishing into white. Then there was the broken music box on the mantel – Mommy brought it from her faraway home. The music box didn’t play. I broke it the same day I smashed the Russian dolls, the day of the thing with the mouse. The little ballerina was snapped from her stem, felled and dead. Maybe I felt worst about her. (I call her Eloise. I don’t know why; she just looks like an Eloise.) I heard Mommy’s beautiful voice in my ear. You take everything from me, Theodore. Take, take, take. Those people had looked at all my stuff with their eyes and thoughts and the house didn’t feel like mine any more.

I closed my eyes and breathed deeply to calm myself. When I opened them again the Russian doll smiled fatly back. Beside her sat the music box. Eloise the ballerina stood proud and upright, arms perfect and poised above her head. Mommy and Daddy smiled down from the photograph. My beautiful orange rug was like soft pills underfoot.

I felt better right away. Everything was OK. I was home. Olivia’s head butted my palm. I laughed and picked her up.

That made me feel even better. But overhead in the attic, the green boys stirred.

The next day I was in the newspaper. The headline was suspect’s house searched. And there I was, standing in front of the house. They searched other houses but the article made it sound like it was just mine and I guess those people were smart enough to cover their faces. No picture, no story. They put my photograph right alongside the one of Little Girl With Popsicle, which was a story in itself.

The picture didn’t show the name of the street but people must have recognised it, I guess. Rocks and bricks came through the windows. So many. As soon as I replaced a pane another rock came through. I felt like I was going crazy. It happened so many times that I gave up and nailed plywood over the windows. It slowedthem down. Not as much fun throwing rocks when there’s nothing to break. I stopped going out during the day. That was a bad time.

I put Little Girl With Popsicle – the newspaper with her picture in it, I mean – in the closet under the stairs. I bend down to put it at the bottom of the pile. It’s then that I see it on the shelf, half hidden behind the tower of newsprint – the tape recorder.

I recognise it immediately. It’s Mommy’s. I take the machine off the shelf. Touching it makes me feel strange, like someone’s whispering nearby, just below the level of my hearing.

There’s a tape already in the machine, part used – about half of one side has been recorded. It’s old, with a striped yellow-and- black label. Her faded formal handwriting. Notes.

I don’t listen to the tape. I know what’s on it. She always spoke her notes aloud. Her voice had a slight hitch around the consonants; she couldn’t quite get rid of it. You could hear the sea in her voice. She was born far away, Mommy, under a dark star.

I think, Just leave it there, forget I’ve seen it.

I ate a pickle and now I feel a lot better. After all, that stuff happened a long time ago. The light is growing and it’s going to be a beautiful day. The birds will be arriving. Each morning they pour out of the forest and descend on my back yard. Yellowthroats, kinglets, buntings, red crossbills, sparrows, blackbirds, city pigeons. It’s crowded and beautiful. I love to watch it. I made the peephole just the right size in just the right place in the ply- wood – I can see the whole back yard. I make sure the feeders are always full up and that there’s water. Birds can suffer in this hot weather.

I am about to look out like I do every day, when my stomach lurches. Sometimes my insides know things before my mind does. This is wrong. The morning is too quiet. I tell myself not to be weird, take a deep breath and put my eye to the hole.

I see the jay first. He lies in the dead centre of the lawn. His bright mess of feathers shine like an oil slick. Twitching. One long wing strokes the air, desperate for flight. They look weird when they’re grounded, birds. They’re not meant to stay put for long.

My hands shake as I turn the keys in the three big locks on the back door. Thunk, thunk, thunk. Even now I take a moment to lock it behind me. The birds lie all over the yard, scattered on the parched grass. They twitch, caught helpless on what looks like pieces of tan paper. Many are dead, maybe twenty. Some are not. I count seven hearts still beating. They gasp, their narrow black tongues stiff with pain.

My mind runs like ants, everywhere. It takes me three breaths to make sense of what I see. In the night someone went to each feeding place and put glue traps down, wrapped them around the wire cages, attached them to the balls that hang from string. When the birds came to feed in the dawn their feet and beaks stuck to the adhesive.

All I can think is, Murder, murder, murder … Who would do this to the birds? Then I think, I have to clean up. I can’t let Lauren see.

That stray tabby cat crouches in the ivy by the wire fence, amber eyes intent.

‘Go away!’ I shout. I throw the nearest thing to hand, which is an empty beer can. The can flies wide and hits the fence post with a noise like dunggg. She goes slowly, in her uneven clawless limp, as if it is her own idea.

I collect the living birds. They stick together in my hands, bound into a twitching mass. They look like a monster from my bad dreams, legs and eyes everywhere, beaks drinking the air. When I try to separate them, feathers part from flesh. The birds make no sound. Maybe that’s the worst part. Birds aren’t like people. Pain makes them quiet.

I take them inside and try all the things I can think of to dis- solve the glue. But it only takes a few tries with the solvent to see that I’m making it worse. The birds close their eyes and pant in the fumes. I don’t know what to do now. This kind of stuck is for ever. The birds can’t live but they’re not dead. I think about drowning them and then hitting them on the head with a hammer. Each idea makes me feel weirder. I think about unlocking the laptop cupboard. Maybe the internet has an idea. But I can’t figure out where to put the birds down. They stick to everything they touch.

Then I remember the thing I saw on TV. It is worth a try, and we have vinegar. Working with one hand, I cut a length of hose. I fetch a big Tupperware box, baking soda and the white vinegar from under the sink. I put the birds carefully in the box, seal it and pass the length of hose through the hole I pierce in the plastic lid. I mix the baking soda and vinegar in the bag and fasten it to the hose with a rubber band. Now it is a gas chamber. The air in the box begins to change, and the feathered twitching slows. I watch the whole thing, because death deserves a witness. Even a bird should have that. It doesn’t take long. They had half given up already, from the heat and the fear. A pigeon is the last to die; the rise and fall of its plump chest grows shallow, and then it falls still.

The Murderer has made me into a murderer too.

I put the corpses in the trash out back. Limp, still-warm bodies, soft to the touch. A lawnmower starts somewhere on the block. The scent of cut grass crawls through the air. People are waking up.

‘You OK, Ted?’ It is the man with hair the colour of orange juice.

He takes his big dog to the woods each day.

I say, ‘Oh sure, fine.’ The man is looking at my feet. I realise that I am not wearing shoes or socks. My feet are white and hairy. I cover one foot with the other but it doesn’t make me feel any better. The dog pants and grins at me. Pets are better than their owners in general. I feel bad for all those dogs and cats and rabbits and mice. They have to live with people but, worse, they have to love them. Now, Olivia is not a pet. She’s so much more than that. (I expect everyone feels this about their cat.)

When I think about a Murderer creeping around my house in the cold dark, laying traps in my yard – maybe even peering in, watching me, Lauren and Olivia with their dead beetle eyes – my heart stutters.

I come back. The Chihuahua lady is standing right up close. Her hand is on my shoulder. That’s unusual. People don’t like to touch me, as a rule. The dog under her arm trembles, stares about with bulging eyes.

I am standing in front of the Chihuahua lady’s house, which is yellow with green trim. I feel I have just forgotten something, or am just about to know it. Sharpen up, I tell myself. Don’t be weird. People notice weird. They remember.

‘… your poor foot,’ the woman is saying. ‘Where are your shoes?’ I know the tone. Small women want to take care of big men. It is a mystery. ‘You got to look after yourself, Ted,’ she says. ‘Your mother would be worried sick about you.’

I see that my foot is leaking – a dark red trickle across the concrete. I must have stepped on something. ‘I’m chasing that stray,’ I say. ‘I mean, I was chasing her. I don’t want her to get the birds in my yard.’ (I don’t always get tenses right. Everything always feels like it’s happening now and sometimes I forget it actually happened then.)

‘It’s a real shame, that cat,’ she says. Interest lights up her eyes. I have given her something else to feel. ‘The thing is a pest. The city should deal with stray cats like they do the other vermin.’

‘Oh, I agree,’ I say. ‘Sure.’

(I don’t recall names but I have my ways of judging and remembering people. The first one is: would they be kind to my cat? I would not let this woman near Olivia.)

‘Anyway, thanks,’ I say. ‘I feel better now.’

‘You bet,’ she says. ‘Come and have iced tea tomorrow. I’ll make cookies.’

‘I can’t tomorrow.’

‘Well, any time. We’re neighbours. We have to look out for each other.’

‘That’s what I always say.’ I am polite.

‘You’ve got a nice smile, Ted, you know? You should use it more often.’

I wave and grin and limp away, miming pain I don’t feel, favouring the bleeding foot until I am sure she has rounded the corner.

The Chihuahua lady didn’t notice that I was gone, which is good. I lost time but not too much, I think. The sidewalk is still warm underfoot, not hot. The lawnmower still buzzes somewhere on the block, the scent of cut grass is sticky and green on the air. Maybe a couple of minutes. But it should not have happened in the street. And I should have put shoes on before I left the house. That was a mistake.

I clean my cut foot with disinfectant from a green plastic bottle. I think it was meant for floors or countertops, not for skin. The foot looks much worse after; the skin is red and raw. Looks like it would really hurt if I could feel it. But at least the cut is clean now. I wrap my foot in gauze. I have a lot of gauze and bandages about the place. Accidents happen in our house.

My hands are still sticky after, as if something clings to them, like gum or death. I recall reading something somewhere that birds have lice. Or maybe that’s fish. I clean my hands with the floor stuff too. I am shaky. I take the pill that I should have taken a few hours ago.

Eleven years ago today Little Girl With Popsicle vanished. This morning someone killed my birds. Maybe these two things don’t have anything to do with each other. The world is full of stuff that doesn’t make sense. But maybe they are connected. How did the Murderer know that so many birds feed in my yard at dawn? Do they know the neighbourhood? These thoughts do not make me feel good.

I make a list. I write at the top: The Murderer. It is not a very long list.

Orange-Juice-Hair Man Chihuahua Lady A Stranger

I suck the end of my pencil. Trouble is, I don’t know the neighbours so well. Mommy did. That was her thing, charming people. But they walk in the other direction when they see me coming. I have seen them actually turn around and hurry away. So the Murderer could be out there right now, a couple of houses down, eating pizza or whatever and laughing at me. I add to the list:

The Otter man or His wife or their Children Men who live in Blue house together Lady who Smells like Doughnuts

That is almost all the people on the street.

I don’t really think any of them are the Murderer. Some, like the otter family, are on vacation right now.

Our street has a strange name. Sometimes people stop and take pictures of the dented street sign out front. Then they go away, because there’s nothing but the woods beyond.

Slowly I add another name to the list. Ted Bannerman. You never know.

I unlock the closet where I keep the art supplies, and I hide the list carefully under an old box of chalk that Lauren never uses.

I judge people two ways – on how they treat animals, and on what they like to eat. If their favourite food is some kind of salad, they are definitely a bad person. Anything with cheese, they are probably OK.

The Last House on Needless Street is out September 28th. You can pre-order it now.

The post Cover Reveal: Catriona Ward’s The Last House on Needless Street appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/2NJZbOd

#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

0 notes

theretirementstory · 5 years ago

Photo

Bonjour a tous, it appears to have rained overnight (good for the garden) however, we have a blue sky and the sun is putting in an appearance although this may not be the outcome for the day we will just have to wait and see. Last Sunday, 3 May, it was the third Sybil's Picnic which is to raise awareness of Huntington’s Disease. I have been lucky enough to have participated since 2018, along with my friends: Big Teddy, Captain Vomit Bag, Huggy Bear, Pierre Sapeur-Pompier, this year we also had new friend Cheeky Monkey as well as Xmas Sybil and Eloise Sybil. As you can see we had quite a picnic. If you are interested in finding out more check out #sybilontour or #houndsforhuntingtons. I have been working on my new cleaning regime and it is surprising as to how quickly I can get my jobs done and then have “me” time. I have even managed to write a couple of letters, remember those? I have a couple of “older” relatives, one who will be 97 in June, and to receive a letter can really make their day. Plus I have completed the final front for the cardigan it is still awaiting stitching up (I hate that part of knitting). The strict lockdown is due to finish and from 11 May we are able to go outside without carrying the appropriate attestation, this is the best news for me as it means that I can now go for a walk anytime I feel like it, plus I can head to other parts of the town. I have no intention of driving here and there or heading off to the shops for some retail therapy, I just want to be able to purchase a couple of things I have been unable to buy as the shops were closed and I am still going to continue with my life the way it has been. I have so enjoyed sitting in the garden with a book and pottering around looking to see what is flowering and what needs to be weeded. I really need to find a gardener who is able to 1) cut down and thin out the shrubs at the front and back of the house 2) weed and tidy up under said shrubs 3) sort out the fabric nightmare that the previous “gardener” applied and 4) just help me to give my garden the look of organised rather than disorganised. I have my fingers crossed that the decorator and the roofing contractor will be in touch to do the jobs I had requested and another important task is to find someone who can lay a patio (properly), take up the gravel in the side return and lay membrane before applying new gravel, plus I must get the plumber to fix the pipe to the tap in the side return and then I can also get my washing airer concreted into the ground and my life will be complete. All of these tasks seem small to me but I am not in a position to do them, I am going to work on the lawn myself, I know it will not be an overnight fix but I am sure if I work at it this summer I could reap the rewards next summer. Looks like I am going to busy and that is good. I was not going to grow any tomatoes or salad stuff this year, as I am not the best person for keeping water levels topped up BUT as I will be at home all summer, I may well just decide to grow something, after all the tomatoes were lovely last year. I have been making more soup…….yes I still enjoy having soup even though the weather is warm. Plus I bought a pack of vegetables to make ratatouille. Now I have never made this before so I followed a recipe I found on-line and I must say it looks and smells gorgeous. Obviously some will go into the freezer and some will have some chilli added (just because I like spicy). I am going to put some into a pastry case as I think that will be rather tasty with a salad. Yes! I have been eating salads the last few days, not being a big fan of salads that is quite some achievement, I have even taken a leaf (pardon the pun) out of my young granddaughters book and bought a cucumber (which I am really enjoying). My granddaughter loves it so much they go through 2 cucumbers a week!! It was the 75th anniversary of VE Day on the 8 May and I watched all of the street parties (with social distancing of course) taking place in the UK. Here in France VE Day is a holiday every year and wreathes are laid at the war memorials throughout the length and breadth of the country, this was the same this year. I only found out after the occasion that the people of France had been asked to fly the Tricolour at their homes, oh well next year! A friend from England contacted me this week to say that her mother had sadly passed away (not from Covid-19) she had been ill for some time. It is very sad and was made even more so when she said that at the funeral there would only be two people, her and her sister. One has never married and neither have any children, sadly my friend lost her husband less than a year ago, it makes me think how fortunate I am to have my own family and siblings. I have had my French friends getting in touch with me, Anie rang to see if I was ok, plus Marie-Therese sent one of her epic novel messages and for someone who has undergone so much this year she is in such good spirits it is so lovely to read that she is well. Monique has phoned me, to be honest she has nothing to say, I think she has found the lockdown particularly hard, I know she is looking forward to seeing me but as I have said, I am still going to be living much the same as I have been for the past 8 weeks. I would like to say a big thank you to the town of Bar-sur-Aube and to Aube Bedding who (I think) made masks and arranged distribution to the people of the town. I was going to wear mine to go shopping yesterday but first my glasses steamed up, and then I was so warm in it, I didn’t get any further than inside my own home. I am going to have a go at making one from some fabric, perhaps an old pillowcase which will be cotton or polycotton so will be lighter, although with my record for starting things and not finishing maybe I had just better buy some disposable ones! Now to the most important people in my life: my granddaughter has a birthday tomorrow and will be 2. I had a video call with her yesterday and it ended up that she was holding the phone and we were showing each other our teddy bears. I must admit she nearly had me ill, as the camera was moved from one thing to another at breakneck speed and my poor eyes could not focus that quickly. All the time her Daddy was talking to me but it sounded like he was some distance away so I only caught some of the conversation. One thing that really tickled me was the fact that some birthday presents (ones that had arrived in the post or by hand) were on a table in the hall, we went over to look at them and she asked if she could open one, “The Daddy” said no, she could open them on Monday and she just accepted that. Her speech is really coming on and I notice it more when I see a video, I do think that is because she is spending time with “Mummy”, although they are preparing her for going back to nursery by using toys to “answer questions” and encouraging her to congratulate the toy. I am fascinated by it all, I think when you are busy bringing up children, working and managing a home you really don’t remember all the things that you did with your own children. “The Graduate” has been busy revising as he has two exams this week and I wish him, and all my other friends in Newcastle, good luck with the exams. For “The Graduate” it has been a year of study and it will not be over with the end of the exams, for others it is the end of three years’ of study. Then it will be time to apply for jobs to get out into the big wide world. Lockdown has been hard on everyone but I do hope that good use has been put to this time and although for some it extends their studying they are not alone in this. So it is back to today and what I will be doing here in France……….you will have to wait until next week to find out. Bon dimanche

#sybilspicnic #barsuraube #nature #houndsforhuntingtons #france #champagne #trees #livingthedream

0 notes