#whishts

[aiteanngaelach]

Was taking the piss out of Americans earlier with my my mom and their attempts at Irish accents but genuinely how are they all so fucking bad? I've never heard an American do anything close to a decent impression of an Irish accent. They all have the same leprechaun diddly iddly top of the mornin to yuh impression like istg none of them have ever heard an Irish person speak before they just base their impressions off the shitty impressions of other Americans 😭😭

[hearties-circus]

Incredibly rude the way I was just woken up there

[lilac-den]

can we have a little ✨spíce✨ with maverick doting mc while they're placed on his knees? and he just can't help but tease them since mc is all shy and gentle? (I reckon I'll miss all TSR ROs, but nah, I'm all weak for cool guy🤣🤣🤣

A little snippet of Maverick x Shy!MC

I can't stop my heart from beating so much.

It started yesterday, when Sylphina and I decided to visit the Whisht estate after receiving an invitation. It started raining quite late in the evening, so Sylphina and I ended up sleeping over for the night. After waking up and having breakfast, one of the servants quietly asked me if I could see their master, Maverick, for 'something of utmost importance'.

I had expected Maverick wanting to discuss about the Princess. Or Sylphina. Or even advise me about my etiquette training that I had been doing so slowly on.

But none of what I imagine came as I feel my cheeks heat up at the hand that rests on my lower back.

"Are you alright, Wanderer?"

The question was asked in such a casual tone, it almost baffles me on how this stone-faced prick had the gall to ask me such.

How? How can I be alright when I'm sitting on your lap, you dummy?!

"I'm...fine." I barely muster out the second word, hoping I didn't sound too breathy. The hum that escapes Maverick sends a tremor along my body. That tremor grows even more after Maverick grips the hand on my lower back onto one of my hips, pulling me close to his body.

I bit my lower lip and feel fire lick within my belly. Fuck.

"Do let me know if you feel too much discomfort," he says, his quill waving about in movement of his handwriting.

I barely give a nod, my toes curling and uncurling in an attempt to settle down the glee within me for being this close to him. To feel him hold me.

I mentally smack myself. Stop it. He's not holding me. This is...just...

What was it that Maverick needed me for?

When the servant told me Maverick needed me for something important, I rushed my way over here without running (harder than it looked but the servants either didn't notice or ignored it). I only got the question "What's the matter?" out of my mouth before Maverick gestures me to come closer.

And before I knew it, here I am - sitting on Maverick's lap very intimately.

I glance over to his face and take note of the features. Glacial blue eyes focus on his work, white bangs barely reaching above his eyes. His lips are a line, serious and straight. Even his glasses are perfectly perched on the bridge of his nose, settled and fitting to his diligent appearance.

Then I see his eyes widen and they turn to me. It took me a hot second for me to realize my hand is on one of his cheeks, something I retract quickly as if I touched fire itself.

"S-Sorry!" I swallow, the touch of his skin still embedded against my fingers. "You just...you..." The attempt to bring up a reason dies on my tongue.

But Maverick, with a curious gleam in his eyes that I'm far too familiar with, tells me, "you are welcome to reciprocate."

A skip occurs inside me. "What?"

Maverick puts his quill down and leans back against his chair, providing me more room. "You are welcome to touch me."

I was so ready to laugh it off, to take this as him making a joke. But two factors stop me.

One: Maverick doesn't joke easily. Sure, he has his quips and jabs with the occasional sass, but he wouldn't joke about intimacy, consent or anything of that order.

And two...I have fought too long to not tell when there's an opening. And right now, sitting on his lap, Maverick has his guard down almost entirely. A part of me begins to itch and after so many years, I give in.

"Please excuse me."

My words barely come out in a whisper to my ears, but Maverick nods with understanding. I reach up for one of his cheeks, hesitating when my fingertips are just centimetres away. My heartbeats are loud and pumping with vigor, forcing me to hear and feel just how nervous I am.

I touch his porcelain skin. Then I cup his cheek.

His face is warm under my touch. I watch him close his eyes and sigh, something in the mix of relief and ease. I move my other hand to cup his other cheek, examining him up close.

His eyes, while shut, display a bit of dark circles underneath as signs of having less sleep than one should. His snow white hair shines under the soft sunlight behind him through the window. His lips are parted, full and a soft pink shade.

I brush my thumb gently along his cheek. Reacting, he leans into the palm of my hand and relishes in my touch. Something lodges in my throat in that moment.

When was it?

When was the last time I saw Maverick like this?

He opens his eyes and my eyes sting.

They're vibrant and blue, sparked with intelligence and watching me with its gaze.

Something I prayed so hard for, the last time I saw those beautiful eyes close. When I only had them in my dreams and hallucinations in my previous life since the incident.

"Wanderer?"

And in that word, cold water splashes onto my trance.

I let him go and scramble to leave his lap. "I'm sorry, my lord. I..." I brush down my clothes and perform a bow/curtsy "Sylphina is calling."

Maverick frowns and moves to stand. "But Wanderer-"

It was a poor excuse. Even just hearing Maverick's 'but' is enough of an indication that he doesn't believe my lie. But I have to get out of here and build a bit of distance before I do something foolish.

So I run. I run out of the office, down the hall and let my blood pump with adrenaline.

But my heart continues to rattle and beat against my chest, even as tears fill my eyes.

They fall the moment I allow myself to imagine, just a little bit, that his eyes called my name with the familiarity of the past.

Something that is no longer there.

[ask-sebastian]

"Sebastian, there is NO time, CATCH!!!"

A fifth-year Slytherin ran past you and quickly tossed something right into your chest before disappearing behind the nearest couch. And by disappearing we mean he dived onto the marble floor behind the couch and covered his head with both hands as if something was about to go off.

There is a ticking kiwi on your hands (or on the floor next to you of you didn't catch it/dodged.)

"I've heard that before..." murmured Sebastian as he swivelled at the sudden sound of his name. His eyes flared in surprise, the brief thought that another niffer may land in his arms vanishing at the sight of a fresh, plump kiwi flying in his direction. He whipped out his wand, stumbling back a step as he cast a hasty levitation spell and arrested the fruit's momentum just before it connected with his chest.

A disgruntled frown turned the corners of his mouth. "I shall not be victim to run-by fruitings—" Sebastian twisted around and quickly surveyed the room but whoever had shouted out his name had already disappeared.

Fist planted on his hip, he let out an irritated sigh and opened his mouth to demand his assailant reveal themselves, but the words died on his lips.

Was that...

"Whisht!" he snapped at a group of nattering third years nearest. Sebastian craned his ear toward the sound of...

...ticking?

Something jerked in his peripheral vision as he focussed on following the sound, only to have his attention slowly brought back to the floating kiwi, which – much to Sebastian's horror – twitched and grew in size with each ominous tick. Also to his horror, it hung in the air without the aid of Sebastian’s magic.

What was with this bloody school and cursed produce?

Sebastian’s wrist flicked with a well-practised flourish and said, “Finite Incantatem.”

There was a beat of silence before the ticking sped up. The fruit shuddered in midair as it swelled double in size.

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. “Finite.”

It doubled again, in size and pace.

“Offero!”

Quadrupled.

“Merlin’s wrunkelt bawbag,” Sebastian growled. His fist tightened around his wand with his growing frustration. “Incendio!”

The spell burst forth, flaring scarlet as it hit its target but left nary a mark. It ricocheted and Sebastian ducked just in time to avoid a rather unfortunate singe across the top of his head. His hands protectively over his hair, he still felt the angry heat of it blaze across his knuckles as it streaked towards the windows facing the Black Lake. It pinged back and forth off the enchanted glass before hurtling back towards the centre of the common room, sending the same group of third years scrambling to safety. The spell hit the back cushions of the sofa where they had sat, and it immediately erupted into flames.

The common room erupted as well — into chaos as students converged in a flurry with wands drawn, all shouting spells over each other to put out the fire. Sebastian turned back towards the kiwi and his jaw dropped with an involuntary gasp.

He could equate the enormous size of it only to that of Leander’s delusions of grandeur, and it undulated at a frenetic pace queasily reminiscent of Peeve’s spectral belly when he chortled.

Before he managed any sort of counterattack, the ticking suddenly stopped and silence drowned out the pandemonium around him. The kiwi wobbled once, twice, and then a final time before it exploded with an ear-splitting bang.

The energy wave connected with such force that Sebastian nearly lost his footing. He planted his weight and braced against the shredded chunks of kiwi flesh arcing in all directions. They landed with heavy splashes and splats across the floors and walls, coating everything and extinguishing the sofa fire with a weak fizzle in the process. The spray even spattered up the lengths of the common room windows and into the cloisters.

Being closest to the explosion, Sebastian certainly got the worst of it. He supposed he was grateful the blast hadn’t done any real damage, but he was left completely drenched head to foot. His robes were sopping and steadily dripped warm kiwi juice that pooled at his feet.

He stood in stunned silence.

Why it was warm, he sincerely did not wish to know.

His fingers found small bits of fruit when he raked through his sodden hair, pushing the sticky mass off his forehead. Bits oozed down beneath his collar, sending a shudder down his spine. Thoughts of demonic pickle crept into his mind as he tried to take a step out of the epicentre, only to slip dramatically across the shiny kiwi slick puddled on the floor.

Sebastian flailed as his feet flew out from under him. He landed hard and flat on his back, the connection painfully knocking the air from his lungs. His eyes pinched shut and he groaned, suddenly remembering being in a very similar position when Nosy previously made off with his wand. As he lay there gasping for breath, a trickle of kiwi juice found its way onto his mouth. Sebastian weakly wiped the back of his hand across his lips in a bid to remove the excess, but he only added more.

He sighed in resignation.

If he had to be in this position again, at least this time tasted better.

[thedreadvampy]

Ok so I started a big long post about my general question "if Scots is a language why isn't Geordie?" and I think I've satisfied myself that Geordie, despite having syntax and language that is substantively different from standard English, is a dialect in a way Scots isn't.

having said which. a dialect of what though? cause if we understand Scots as a separate language, I would say Geordie takes as much in common with Scots as with English (from "wee" to "fair" and "ower" and "bairn")

like the problem fundamentally is a) I'm not a linguist and b) everyone I've brought this up with seems to think I'm talking about peppering in "ha'way man wey aye pet" and not sentences like "How man but yon gadgey's a canny blatherskite like, he divvn't knaa ha to whisht"

now is that its own language? no. but there's a good chunk that's more to do with Scots than English (blatherskite; whisht; gadge is common in both Southern Scotland and North East England although that's cause it's from Romani; the opening and closing of sentences with "like", "but", "how", "aye" for intensification. "Canny" is a false friend though cause it means "clever/careful" in Scots and while it also means that in Geordie it's largely "very") and that's just a wee example of the commonalities. A lot of points where Geordie differs from standard English are commonalities with Scots (I'm thinking "corbie", "bairn", "lough", "gan", "fash", "mind", as well as a lot of the less-English sentence construction.)

idk like I can on reflection agree that Geordie isn't a language the way Scots is, but I think a lot of the kneejerk dismissal of the question has to do with the fact that people I'm talking to don't actually know Geordie as a dialect.

and I don't think it's a uniquely complex dialect to be clear, it's just the one I grew up around (although I don't speak it owerwell cause I'm posh and I say baath instead of bath and people laugh at me if I say as much as nowt or ha'way) so I know it better than like. Cockney or whatever. but I think it would have been easier for me to understand the difference between a language like Scots and a dialect like Geordie if fewer of the people I talked to thought of a dialect like Geordie as basically an accent with a few unusual words tacked on.

but I think it's taken me a really long

[gravitasmalfunction]

'You will not mind a little risk, will you, Lucius?' 'Me sword's at your service, Deb!' 'Oh no! It has nothing to do with swords -- at least I do hope it has not! I just want you to kidnap Ravenscar for me.' He burst out laughing. 'Is that all? Whisht, it's a mere nothing! And what will I be doing with him when I've kidnapped him?' 'I want you to put him in the cellar,' said Miss Grantham remorselessly. 'What cellar?' enquired Kennet. 'This one, of course. It has a very stout lock on the door, and it is not at all damp -- not that that signifies, and in any event he will be tied up.'

Faro's Daughter, Georgette Heyer

[queenaeducan-writes]

V. Song

I had this in my head for ages but finally took the chance to write it for @hanal-ghilan-prompts! It’s based on the Lambton Worm song, written about a legend of a worm (dragon) that terrorised the countryside around the river Wear in Northeast England. I’ve lifted and changed lines where necessary. It’s written/sang in a Northumbrian dialect and if you’d care to hear it you can listen to the original song here. I made the Thedosian version of the song reference an ancient, fractured version of an ancient Elvhen story of how Andruil and Mythal fought after Andruil brought plague back from the Void. The song, as you see, casts Andruil in a much more favourable light, with the dragon, instead, representing the Blight. It’s intended as a city elf song similar to the Denerim lullaby Where Willows Wail.

One early mornin’ Andruil went A-huntin’ in the woods; An’ found some tracks along the trail She thowt leuk’t vary queer (=thought looked very strange) But wharra kind a tracks they were (=what kind of) Andruil cudden’t tell- She tipped her bow with adder’s kiss An’ took after the creature

Whisht! Lads, haad yor gobs, (=Quiet! Boys, shut your mouths) An’ Aa’ll tell ye an aaful story, (=I’ll tell you an awful story) Whisht! Lads, haad yor gobs, An’ Aa’ll tell ye ‘boot the wyrm (=about)

Noo out tha treetops burst a beast (=Now) That’d set yor hair on end (=your) Two flamin’ wings, three rows a’ teeth Bore doon on Andruil (=down) She nocked her bow, her aim were true She let her arrow fly The arrow lodged inside its chest But on the beast did glide

(Chorus)

This feorful wyrm had come to feed (=fearful) An’ blacken all the land It swally’d up wee lambs and bairns (=swallowed little lambs and children) As they lay doon to dream An’ when she’d eaten aal she cud (=all she could) An’ she had has her fill Away she went an’ lapped her tail Ten times roond Knotwood Hill (=round)

(Chorus)

Whei, Andruil knew ‘twas only she (=of course) Who could hope t’ slay the wyrm She hewed armour from the blackest night An’ went t’ face the wyrm The trail it left were whole houses wide New rivers lay in its wake The dwarves deep doon in Kal’Hirol Were whingin’ ‘boot a leak (=whining)

(Chorus)

Seun Andruil came to Knotwood Hills (=Soon) An’ the wyrm stirred from her kip (=nap) One look in bold Andruil’s eyes An’ she knew she’d seen her death She reared back her old aaful head Fire kindlin’ in her throat Andruil struck with her mighty spear An’ skewered her through the heart

(Chorus)

Why noo ye knaa hoo all the elves (=know how) Aboot the Hafter’s shores Still sing Andruil’s praises high For all the world t’ hear So let’s hev one out for our Mistress of the Hunt (let’s drink to) Who kept our lands frae harm (=from) Saved the morra’s dreams by skinnin’ clean (=tomorrow) The famis Knotwood Wyrm (=famous)

Wisht! Lads, Ah’ll haad me gob, I’ve telt yiz aal an aaful story Of Andruil’s civvor job (=clever) An’ the aaful Knotwood Wyrm!

[monstrousproductions]

Im trying to design a cross stitch pattern of the monstrous agonies logo and it is going terribly and difficultly and I'm suffering because of all the shapes thus I've decided your boyfriend Matthew is now my mortal enemy

hahaha he is a terrible and dreadful bastard, it's true. this is the real reason i always tell people not to ask him to make a logo lol

also, this is a correction for myself rather than you - i have a dreadful engrained habit of calling him Matthew publicly but he actually prefers Matt 😅 not your fault at all, absolutely mine, but if in the future you see me calling him Matthew in public please spritz me with water and tell me to whisht

[aiteanngaelach]

Hello I'm watching the good omens for the first time (I like the book and I heard bad things about the show so I said I'd pass on watching it but ye've all been losing yer minds over the second season so ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ said I'd give it a go) and what the hell is up with the way they pronounce Deirdre. Hello???????? Who is deardrie?????? Is Google not available to the people making the show just look up how to pronounce things PLEASE

[loveofdetail]

wuu2?

Tagged by @jotarowan!

last song: "Whisht, The Wild Workings Of The Mind" by Lisa O'Neill

currently watching: Revolutionary Girl Utena

currently reading: Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell, A Trans Man Walks Into a Gay Bar

current obsession: hm. i guess i'm between obsessions? I was having a lot of fun with the synth emulator vcvrack but i haven't gone back to it since my hard drive crash... v_v I've been doing more gardening than usual this summer though!

tagging: @bonewhiteglory @yufiit @illmetkismet

[lilac-den]

Can we have a little more details on the Countess's personality? And, how much of siblings does the TSR ROs have in their new life? And what's their family background and the personality of their new parents and siblings?

Hrm...In regards with Sylphina: She's charming and knows how to speak appropriately. But if she is to be honest, she prefers the commonfolk over the nobles. She also has a small sense of mischief but due to her trying her best to be a proper lady, she doesn't get to see much (imagine chaotic!MC being a bad influence! The horror!)

Just for the record: There are same-sex parents and there is the option to adopt or use magic to conceive a child for them. The one who carries the baby throughout the pregnancy is known as 'the carrier' while the one who sired is known as 'the sire'.

TSR ROs' family are like so:

Maverick: Only child, mom and dad still alive and the same as his past life.

Rydigan: He has an older and younger sister, as well as two moms.

Ittania: She has two older siblings (1 sis and 1 bro) and a younger fraternal twin brother (by two minutes). She has two dads.

Enid: She has three older brothers (ALL VERY PROTECTIVE OF THEIR BABY SISTER - HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA >:D) and a dad. Her mom died after giving birth to Enid.

As for their family backgrounds:

Maverick: His parents (A man and woman) are...a real piece of work. 💀 For one, they're the reason why MC never got to hold a proper funeral for Maverick in the past life.

(He wrote in his will to have his funeral handled by MC and co. if he meets his untimely demise and his parents wanted to gain sympathy and attention from relatives and powerful 'allies'. So, his parents not only disregard their son's will but they even bribe the legal system to deny MC any possibility of taking Maverick's funeral rights back. In a dystopian world, MC is completely lost and had to proceed with the funeral without Maverick's corpse. His parents, after the funeral, proceed to either burn the body and dump the ashes in a garbage bag to throw away somewhere or just throw it into the ocean to save money.)

They also cheat. A lot. The mom is known to attempt gaslighting and lies to get her way and has rumours that she may or may not have flirted with a married man or two. It is unsure if they are true or not.

The dad is a prideful, boastful guy and isn't afraid to flaunt his wealth and fame. He's the main reason why the Whisht family name has somewhat lost its original glory. He is insanely jealous of his son for being a prodigy and isn't afraid to yell and scream at him. But in truth, he is afraid of his son and Maverick makes it clear to his father that no matter how many assassins or attempts he puts on his life, he will pay it back tenfold. His father had once attempted to cripple his son to teach him a lesson by hiring a thug to do so. Instead, the head of the thug was served to him on a silver platter during dinner time when it's just him and Maverick. Maverick's father doesn't make another attempt since. He also walks with a cane due to one of his legs being limp during a previous war.

Maverick is smart, even at a young age, and already knew his parents aren't normal (especially after he meets Rydigan, Ittania and Enid in the new life). He has lost any hope of familial love and couldn't care less for his parents. The only reason he would be working hard as a Duke is to succeed his father and be a better one than him, despite how much of a shackle the noble lineage is for him.

Rydigan: His carrier mom is the head of the royal king's army and has made sure to instil good moral codes in her children and teach them defensive swordsmanship. She is known to be quite stone-faced but her wife manages to read her expression and thoughts well.

Rydigan's sire mom is the head of the household and the one born with the Soleil name. She was once known as the belle of her era, the most exotic woman during her debutante. In her youth, she used to attract many admirers but she never reciprocated or lead any of them (which, ironically, make them want her more). It's only when she met her now-wife that her admirers back off.

Ittania: Her carrier dad is a warrior and the one who was born with the del Toro name. He has a pretty boisterous personality and isn't afraid to speak his mind (much to his husband's chagrin at times). He's also the one who trained all of his children in the way of the swords and is always worried for Ittania due to her reckless nature at times. He believes Ittania is more like him than his husband.

The sire dad is a tailor who married into the family. He is a quiet man and wears round-rimmed glasses. He thought all of the kids would take up swords instead of the simple life of a tailor until Ittania's twin brother found the outfits amazing and showed him his first sketch. Since then, Ittania's twin has become his apprentice, much to the sire dad's surprise and delight.

Enid: Her mother died upon Enid's birth and since then, Enid's father and her brothers have loved and cherished her. She loves them but holy moly do they get overprotective.

Enid's father is...well, the closest description I can give is that he's a snake, which fits the Caespes's coat of arms. He can be your wittiest ally or your most dangerous assailant. As far as anyone knows, he is a polite gentleman with the friendliest of smiles. Enid's father values family above all and isn't afraid to use any means to protect them.

I have yet to understand or look into the siblings, but I imagine you'll encounter them in future chapters. Hope this suffices your curiosity!

[mariemariemaria]

seeing irish people making fun of british food is so embarrassing sometimes 😭 houl your whisht come down off your high horse and eat your potato bread

[autisticbillpotts]

whisht lads haad yer gobs I'll tell yous all an aaful story, whisht lads haad yer gobs I'll tell yous boot tha WERM

[alchemisland]

NOTIDLE

Try not using your mouth, dental procedure Hold your tongue, whisht don’t be an eejit Careful what you wish for, see Words seeds sprout to cedars Leak you sprung might end up litres, puddle to a seething sea Coward not a leader; for all to see, like leaked emails.

[spooksmckitcatagain]

Masterpost for this blog:

So gonna create a list of tags you can mute or follow that are specific to this account.

Note that I follow, unfollow and block pretty liberally and don't really care if you do the same. It's nothing personal to me, I'm mainly here to see art, follow friends and post some of my own creative work.

Specific Tags:

#Spook's OCs is the tag for my OCs in particular (I can imagine there's more than likely another Spooks using that tag too lol. Hardly an original tag, but for now it will work)

Will use that in conjuction with a #Spook's art tag

#art by others is the tag to art from other people I like

#Spook's whisht is the tag for any personal talking posts lol

#Spook's writes is the tag I will use for any sort of writing

#dev is the tag I use about any sort of dev talk

I'll add more the more I use this account

General tags:

These have less to do with my own creativity and more to do with general stuff

#femslash tag is where I will try to reblog any queer lady artwork under

Because my lesbian self needs all of that goodness in one place

#art tutorials for art tutotials

#encouragement tag for positivity

I'll add more as I think of them

Warning tags:

#nsft not safe for tunglr, just what it says on the tin

#suggestive tag for suggestive work

#horror tag for anything horror related

#gore a warning tag for gore

#body horror a warning tag for body horror

General Housekeeping

I don't gaf what you ship. You do you. Treat each other with kindess in fandom.

I don't gaf what you identify as. I respect your journey is your own and anyone trying to fish for policing bs from me will get blocked.

Bad faith discourse about identities? Blocked

Bad faith discourse about fiction? Blocked

Bad faith discourse about fandom? Blocked

[tsukihotaru]

"won't you stay with me, my darling, when this house don't feel like home?" by orphan_account

"Demon City" by esqers(not finished, but it's amazing)

"Whisht's Attempt at Kinktober 2020" by miikamiela

"Reaching For The Final Exit (Suicidal Nightmare fic)" by KhorouxClue

THANKS!!