#smell in the wood

[nicoliine]

About the times when Alastor touched you and when he expected you to do it back.

☆彡 How in the world does the radio demon, who doesn't really like physical contact, end up looking for any excuse to have his hands on you?

 ☆ Reader is g/n; no pronouns or y/n are used.

☆ Warnings: not really. Does a mental breakdown count as a warning? Alastor is a warning itself yk.

☆ English isn't my first language, so if there's any mistake I sorry-

 

You noticed that Alastor didn't like people's proximity when you first arrived at the hotel and he didn't even try to shake your hand. There, with your hand on the air, you stand waiting for his shake as you observe his ramblings about a whole different subject—not that you mind about all the weird souls that can be met in hell—watching him around the other hotel staff, you confirm it.

 

After a couple of days in the hotel and witnessing his power display, you made a mental note to not mess with him. That being said, you didn't really want to touch him.

You were a very touchy person, content to hug Pentious when you first saw him around in the morning or cuddle on the couch with Angel before he started to make a lewd comment about his job and you just ended up leaving him alone. Nifty seemed to enjoy being all over you, sitting on your shoulders while you were reading or just playing with your hair.

 

Another one who was happy about your touchy personality was Charlie, but she is just happy about everything.

 ☆◦•◦☆

It started a month from your arrival.

Alastor, being a self-proclaimed gentleman, didn't seem to be aware of your not touching Alastor rule, he started holding the door open for you then creating a shadow to lift up that heavy box that you needed to move, and you ended up—it was hard for you—just trying to move up your body away so you didn't end up too close to him, but he seemed to love your personal space so much.

 

One time, you were in the hallway, not really aware of your surroundings, until you felt an arm around your shoulders. When you heard his static voice, you froze on your steps, slowly turning your head to see him there, standing with that so-known smile of his. When he started to walk, still holding you, talking about that great idea for the hotel, you just couldn't pay so much attention. Your mind is running on thoughts about his proximity.

This wasn't the only time he ended up having you close to him; being honest, it seems to have a personal liking to your presence. You doubt he was like that before your arrival (as you already spoke with Charlie about it), but he could be found anywhere you were. If you ended up helping fix the balcony fence, he was there behind you—you're glad he's at least silent—or when you are in the bar just scrolling through your phone and he is watching you from the other side of the room, not wanting to be near your technology artifacts, is he just trying to drive you mad? Even though that look of his seems to be asking for something you don't know, you won't ask what it is. Just wait to see how it goes.

 

His touch soon became more frequent. You often end up with your own theory that it's something involuntary, like something he doesn't even notice by the way it feels, like deep in the end he just wants to be touched but don't know how to ask for it. But with that demon, nothing is sure; everything he does used to be planned. That's why you found yourself confused and don't want to test your luck.

 

When you are in the lobby in the middle of one of Charlie's activities and his arm ends up holding you by his side.

Or when he just kisses the back of your hand every time you first see him in the morning and every time he leaves, no exceptions, that confusing look of his is always there.

Just about that, your hands—he often takes your hands. While you are in the kitchen and waiting for the pasta on the stove, one of your hands is resting on the counter as you hold a recipe book, reading the next steps. He's by your side the whole time; one of his hands takes your free hand, making you pause your reading and look at him in surprise for the sudden action. He says nothing, and both of you are standing there in silence until you have to go back to cook. However, he doesn't seem to want to let you go yet because he will follow you as you move around the kitchen.

 

From them, it seems that everyone is aware of this weird Alastor thing.

Nobody talks about it though—you are surprised as they have stayed out of the subject, just making silent bets about the cause of this behavior of his—but you know it wouldn't take long for someone to talk about it.

 

 ☆◦•◦☆

The last time he put his hands on you, you were scared. So much has passed since the last time you felt this way. Anxious and terrified, everything around you was spinning; you had to run away from the hotel activities all day.

When Alastor found you in your room, you were a mess, all your stuff scattered around the room. You saw him from your seat in a corner on the other side of the room; the only candle in the nightstand seemed to be dead soon. He just stood there in front of you; you didn't even try to look up at him, just his shoes. You can tell so much about someone else by his shoes; his shoes seemed almost perfectly clean even after destroying his enemies. He's such a collected person that it scares you.

 

"Why, dear, would you look at me?" Alastor surely doesn't enjoy being ignored; you know that. You just couldn't find the strength to move when he spoke to you. It passed almost 5 minutes before you turned your head up, and he was so patient with you the whole time. "What is that troubling your mind, dear?"

 

You didn't respond right away; you're not sure how much time passed until you did it.

 

"It's just... everything." Your hands run around your face as you try not to have an attack right away in front of him. "I'm so scared, Alastor."

 

He just smiled; nothing was said; he didn't even try to touch your shoulder or hold you; he just smiled with that now so common smile of his, —you could swear it was the biggest smile you had seen on his face —one of his arms extended to you.

You have no idea why you did what you did; maybe he asked you directly, or you imagined it all, or his eyes showed what he wanted, or the candle in your room was one of Angel's drugs, or you just simply had a death wish. You don't know.

But you hugged him—just a hug—so hard that you could break his bones. When you took conscience about what you were doing, you tried to back down, not knowing how he could react to your contact.

But he didn't let you; his arm took you by the waist, and his staff was forgotten on the ground when he held your head against his shoulder.

 

You now understand why he always touched you. While you hands grabbed fists of his coat, he held you so tight, like it wasn't enough, and you just needed to be closer to him forever; he didn't want anything else.

So he did, he didn't let you go for a single moment that night; even when you were in bed, he held your hand the whole time. He just let you go the next morning when Vaggie insisted he needed to go do his job, even so he wouldn't forget to kiss your hand before he left. The ghost of his touch accompanied you all the time; it was like your body grew so used to his presence and his touch that you could feel it as a part of you.

Touch Starved! Alastor folks!!! Alastor is such an interesting character to write! I want ro respect him so bad.

Likes and reblogs are appreciated 💞

[meaningofheartford]

“I like to think so, I think having an open mind, is pretty important part of being a teacher. It means I never judge them, I listen, I try to understand,” she said with a little shrug. "I mean, that depends on who you ask, there’s probably some old gens somewhere that can be a little bit bigoted,” Connie gave a small laugh. “But It general most people are nice. We’re all just people living.”

Though the girl paused, raising a brow at his expression. What had she said? She’d only talked about the town, her students, college. Maybe she was being a little paranoid, but she was his expression had changed for a brief moment.

“At Princeton?” she asked, trying her best to keep her cool. “English and some history. Then I did my postgrad in further English and followed by my teaching qualification.” She managed a little laugh. “Something more? I am certain most places have their secrets or sorts,” she said, trying to sound cool. She’d done this for years. “Oh, I am sure they’d love bringing that show to this sort of town. Would make for good paranormal TV.”

She raised a brow this time. “I am sorry to hear about your parents. You never knew any of your family at all?” She paused. “Like your family history and stuff?”

"Aren't you a compromising one," Ashed looked amused. "Is that how you teach your little ones then?" He listened as Connie elaborating more on Hexmore.

"It's extremely quaint and charming. Rather very old world - European, that is. I keep expecting to unearth a bit of 'charming' bigotry buried underneath the peaceful exterior, but...Hexmore doesn't seem to have any of that."

Ashed blinked lazily at Connie when she mentioned Princeton - eighteen years old. Quick math averaged the year she was New Jersey...and suddenly Ashed's eyes flared wide.

Ashed and his dad had been in Princeton that year, looking into a possible werewolf savaging the Princeton Tigers. Ashed had no clue about basketball, but he did like the team name. Ashed had assumed the guise of a TA, which allowed him access almost everywhere...including a remote forested area. Ashed had expected to find co-eds frolicking in drunk party-mode. Or perhaps a fraternal secret society, engaging in obnoxious hazing of new initiates.

Instead, he found a young girl - a student, and possibly others. And the strangest smells in the woods...

"What did you study there?" he asked. Connie had her own questions, even a little Disney joke; but Ashed pushed the humour aside for now. "I'd say this town is the most unique place I've visited in America. I might even say there's something more going on, that I can't quite put my finger on. I'd invite paranormal investigators to come check it out - you know, the ones with their chintzy telly shows where they yell at ghosts under night-vision goggles."

He leaned in, staring at Connie a bit more intently now. "My parents were estranged from great-Aunt Aqsa. I came here to find out why, as my parents are dead now."

[suburbanscrimshaw]

[chiptrillino]

ID: three drawings showing from left to right, jet, zuko and sokka from avatar the last air bender as children from the waist up. Left jet is slouching with his arms crossed, body facing left, head angled looking to the right. He has a licorice wood in his mouth. Center is zuko frowning, looking to the left. On the right is sokka about to trow a snowball, small pink tongue peaking out of his mouth. "chiptrillino . 2023" is written faintly on the bottom of sokkas parka. "please don't repost" is written on the left side of the green square behind jet End ID

dug these up again after the nice anon ask

----

if you want to deal with all my reblogs may I direct your attention to my side only my artworks blog?

@chiptrillino-art

[s1ushyz]

Frank with a beard.

That's all, that's the post.

[jewreallythinkthat]

Menorah no. 3 coming along nicely

[flyingraijinn]

?? 😭😭 (x)

[karokawwo]

obscura smell hcs because i can't sleep

oleander: see, i was going to say he wears that really strong type of cologne most men wear, and I DO THINK HE DOES but more accurately he has a colection of different colognes for different occasions

keir: nothing? i don't think he has a particular smell. he probably just smells like whatever place he just left like most people do idk

francesco: he smells really nice :) he also wears cologne but it's a softer(? kind of scent like vanilla or cinnamon, something like that

cirrus: i know this is inaccurate i feel it in my soul but when i look at him i can't help thinking he smells like hand sanitizer or detergent. to put it more sweetly, he smells like freshly washed sheets

[papermonkeyism]

You know those wooden dinosaur skeleton models you can buy from museum gift shops, that are usually simple and variably off-model? I used to have a tripod Tyrannosaurus back when I was a kid decades ago.

So there's a company in Chile that makes those, but scientifically accurate! Wonder Artistic Models. I've known about them for couple years now, I think, but after losing my job couldn't afford to buy one.

Untill now.

They had a pretty big discount campaign last month and hey, guess how that went.

Oh, boy, let's see how well this goes!

[profanepurity]

My jaw dropped when I saw that unmasked alpha

I'm clawing at the walls

Rattling the bars

He is gorgeous

NOT BORING.

I'm so glad you like him 🥹 I did a little sketch of him just to play with his design.

[creek-ink]

I am unironically proud of this

(ppssssst- my commissions r open btw)

[goatskickin]

Themed & furnished CC free lot!!! Tiny House #10 - 🧱 Usonian House 🪨

Tiny 3x1 lot!

Usonian style house! Think Frank Lloyd Wright

so much wood it might be a fire hazard!

brick, massive sunlight gathering windows + lots of plants!

not one single round edge! this is all about the 90° angle

Download - Tiny House #10 - Usonian House

updated 9/30 to include the lot :D thanks @imredtee

[kulapti]

Under the Beautyberry, Aug 2024, ink (brush & fountain pen).

Species from the understory of the oak forests interspersed on the east edge of the North American great plains, here is a Bobcat (Lynx rufus) capturing a Mourning Dove (Zenaida macroura), and plants that provide food for the dove and others like it. Plant species shown, clockwise from the top: American beautyberry (Callicarpa americana), Coralberry (Symphoricarpos orbiculatus), Little barley (Hordeum pusillum), Sideoats grama (Bouteloua curtipendula), and Canada wild rye (Elymus canadense). I hope one day I am able to learn some of the indigenous names for the plants I have begun to know.

[asteroidtroglodyte]

[rosebug3]

Five-time Tony-nominated actors

[hedgehog-moss]

I lost one of my chickens :( she was caught and carried away by a fox... I’ve been growing complacent about my chickens’ safety I think because we’ve only had one other attack before, a goshawk that swooped in abruptly (unsuccessfully), but no fox sightings nearby so I’ve been assuming Pandolf was a great deterrent. Which he is, just not foolproof. I’ve talked to some people in town about this and they were pretty philosophical about foxes stealing chickens, like “it’s the tribute we pay to woodland animals, it’s just a few hens here and there.” I don’t begrudge the fox for being a fox, if anything I have a renewed respect for foxes because everyone I talked to proceeded to give me their best / worst fox stories, and most of them involved foxes outsmarting humans (learning people’s habits / timetables, opening latches, faking a limp...) Still I feel terrible for my hen, she was only three. RIP Cordy :( You’ll be remembered fondly... (except by the cats.) I feel bad for the other hen too, who just lost her pal!

When I said that last thing, one of my neighbours jumped on the opportunity to try and convince me again to accept a rooster from him. He had a rooster baby boom last summer and I’ve been telling him for months that I don’t need a rooster, I don’t want to raise chickens I just want eggs, and his new argument was that a rooster would protect my hen (or if it comes to that, would heroically sacrifice himself rather than let the hen be eaten—I’m sceptical...) I asked around for a young hen but there aren’t any to be had in this season, so my remaining one is going to be alone until the spring, and my neighbour said she’d get stressed and male company is better than no company. (I wish I could ask my hen what she wants! Maybe she’s penning A Coop Of One’s Own as we speak.) I said the rooster was more likely to stress her out and harass her and he said nah they’re free ranging all day, it’ll be fine, and he’s young so your adult hen will boss him around. I was like, but then will he be any good at protecting her? etc. etc. and after a while I caved in.

When I told her about this on the phone my mum sighed “you’re terrible at saying no”—excuse me, I said no so many times and the guy just kept ploughing on until he could foist a rooster upon me. I’m good at saying no, other people are terrible at hearing it! I reassured her that I had only agreed to take the rooster for a short probationary period, and if he bothers my hen too much I’ll drive him back to his native farm. My mum was like “Drive him back? look I’m sorry I raised you as a city kid but there’s no need to waste gas on driving a rooster around, I’ll have no qualms about wringing his neck for dinner if he’s more trouble than he’s worth.” The rooster’s fate is not sealed though, if he is anywhere from vaguely useful to not actively problematic I’ll keep him, so we’ll see...!