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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

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Hey 👋

I swear I'm addicted to your writing😁 Thank you for the amazing post❤

Can I request a usually calm reader coming home to Hanni and Wil with n bruise on their cheek and/or blue knuckles from n fight. And when they question reader they find out reader defended their relationship.

Them reacting to reader with cigarette burn scars from childhood or self harm scars.

Sorry if it's specific I had a dream about the first one and I'm insecure about my scars😅 Also if it makes you uncomfy ignore me🤣

Have a wonderful day/night/afternoon💕

Hey anon, sorry it took me a hot minute to get to this. Hope you enjoy!

Gender neutral y/n comes home covered in bruises. Their lovers Hannibal and Will need to know why.

trigger warnings: blood, threats of violence, mention of firearms, stalking

You spit a mouthful of blood into the snow before you even thought about turning the doorknob. Any random passerby would look at you and think you were attempting to rob the place. You couldn't say you disagreed, though: your hood was pulled over your head and you held a tire iron in your singular non-bleeding hand.

You knew it wasn't wise to let the old-money Baltimore socialites catch you in such a compromising position, but you had to double-check your mental map of the house one more time. Hannibal would undoubtedly be cooking; hopefully so in his element that he wouldn't notice you slipping by. Will was the one you had to worry about. When it came to you, he'd become as alert as a German shepherd with protective instincts to match. Where he was in the house was anyone's guess, so you needed to be on guard.

You removed your heavy boots and opted to leave them outside. You then tossed the tire iron behind a nearby planter and slowly, quietly turned the knob. The door creaked as it opened, making you cringe. The sight of neither of your partners immediately running up on you was a bit of a relief; you hadn't been discovered quite yet.

You just needed to make it upstairs so you could barricade yourself in the master bathroom and use that oh-so-rare sliver of privacy to cover up your bruises. Then you could climb down the trellis, grab your shoes and make a proper entrance with hello kisses and whatnot.

"[F/N]?" Hannibal called out before you could even breach the threshold.

With no thought on your mind other than "fuck", you turned your head away from the direction you heard him. "Yeah, I'm home."

"I'd rush to give you a kiss, but I'm a little tied up at the moment." He said, undoubtedly grinning to himself as he trussed a chicken with sturdy cooking wire. "So you'll have to come to me."

"Oh, yeah." You called back. "Let me just get cleaned up first."

"If you insist." He said with a dramatic dip in his voice. "But hurry right back. Dinner is almost ready."

Hurdle one was cleared. Now all you had to do was clear the second, much higher hurdle.

You ascended the stairs, but forgot to skip that one consistently creaky step that always alerted the dogs. A small army of dogs came pouring into the upstairs hallway, blocked only by the baby gate Hannibal had installed as a compromise. Enthusiastic barks filled the foyer as you desperately tried to calm them down from the top step.

"Winston! Max! Harley!" You rattled off as many names as you could remember. "Hush, please!"

"[F/N]?" Will said, turning the corner.

You momentarily considered throwing yourself down the stairs. It would be easier to explain the bruises and you could still soak up that sweet, sweet throuple affection without having to tell a story that even you didn't entirely believe. Common sense, however, kept your feet firmly on the ground.

Will appeared in your line of sight. You pulled the brim of your hat down and stuffed your hands into your pockets. "I, uh- forgot how to open the gate again."

The dogs parted in Will's path and he looked at you with suspicion as he effortlessly opened the gate. "Is everything okay?"

You turned your head to the side. "I'm fine. It's just really cold outside."

"I'm sure those wet clothes aren't helping." Will cocked his head. "We can start by throwing that hoodie in the dryer-"

Before you could pull away, he pushed your hood and your hat off in one fluid motion. He knew what was going on.

"I'm no doctor, but I don’t think busted noses and black eyes are side effects of low body temperature." He said, folding his arms.

You put your hand up, unintentionally revealing the bruises on your knuckles. "You learn something new every day."

You tried to scoot past him, but he grabbed your hand and pulled you back.

"[F/N]--" Will said, a blistering fury beginning to percolate in his chest. "Who did this to you?"

"I ran into a bus stop." You lied, not even trying to make it sound believable.

"That bus wouldn't have happened to be headed to Dacula, would it?"

Your silence spoke louder than any excuse you could think of.

Will sighed. "Right. I think I know what happened."

"Will, I-" you protested.

"Save it for dinner." He scolded. "I'm sure Hannibal would love to hear this."

You'd been found out it was much worse than anticipated. You felt like you were on trial, which, given the circumstances, you could have actually been on trial in a real court of law on the charge of aggravated assault. However, that didn’t make you feel any better.

Hannibal demanded an explanation and couldn't wait until dinner. He was willing to let one of his culinary masterpieces burn in the oven, knowing of course that a much rarer delicacy was in the cards once you gave him a name.

He brushed his finger over an open cut under your eye. A light click of his tongue reached your ears as he examined your face.

"Give us a name, love." Hannibal probed, holding your jaw between his fingers and following the trail of bruises down your neck. "Who did this to you?"

"It's not a big deal, really." You assured him, squirming against his grip. "I started it."

"Now that, I find hard to believe." Hannibal contested. "You're not a preemptive strikes kind of person."

"Nor would you go all the way to Dacula to throw a few punches." Will added, approaching you with an ice pack.

"Okay, so maybe I finished it." You corrected.

Hannibal smiled proudly to himself. "That's more like it."

"What exactly did you finish?" Will asked, gently placing the ice against your bruised knuckles.

You sighed. You mentioned Dacula once and they already knew the answer. They were just waiting to hear you say it.

"My ex-boyfriend, Sidney." You leaned back on your one good wrist. "He was a being a completely irredeemable shit, as usual-"

"Details, darling." Hannibal said in too singsongy of a voice than was really appropriate while wrapping your hand in gauze.

"Acting entitled, talking like I belonged to him-"

"You have no idea how little that narrows it down." Will shook his head.

You were compelled to agree, but couldn't bring yourself to admit that and the fact that you ever dated Sidney in the first place. "Right."

"That isn't out of character for him." Hannibal said.

"And certainly not enough to make you willingly drive back out to cousinfuck nowhere to beat him up." Will finished.

"I didn't go out there with the intent to beat him up!" You contested. "He said that if I could meet him for coffee he'd never speak to me again. I know it's a lot of gas money, but I really was gonna hold him to the whole 'never speaking to me again' bit."

"So what happened?" Will asked, growing impatient.

You looked at the ground, embarrassment stopping the words at the tip of your tongue.

"Somehow, he caught a whiff of our... arrangement." You tightened your hands into frustrated fists. "And he made some really shitty comments about... you."

Hannibal and Will exchanged looks. They let the silence linger, urging you to fill it.

"He went into obscene detail about how mmf threesomes are his favorite category of porn," you tried not to gag as you recalled the disgusting details. "And then said if I 'let him watch', he wouldn't tell the local baptist church that I was a whore-"

"The man is a pig." Hannibal said, matter-of-factually.

"I got up to leave." You continued. "Obviously. Then he said he knew where you lived. Announced it to the whole diner. Started to go through his list of semiautomatic weapons. So to make sure he knew I meant business-"

"You threw the first punch." Hannibal finished the thought for you.

You nodded. "Naturally."

Will smiled to the floor and pushed his glasses up his nose. "I would have loved to see that."

"As much as it pains me to say," Hannibal began, resignedly agreeing. "It's only fair that you stand up for us the way we stand up for you. From time to time."

Will brought your bruised knuckles to his lips. "Though we desperately need to teach you how to dodge. Because the next time you come home covered in scratches, someone will pay."

You took both of their hands. "I should get beat up more often."

#hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader #hannibal x you #hannibal nbc #will graham x reader #will graham #will graham x you #hannibal x you x will #hannigram x you #poly hannigram #hannigram #hannigram x reader #anon request #anon ask

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scandinaviacroatiaengbergs · 5 years

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Thursday in Zadar, Croatia

First off, I want to start with a few reflections on things we've noticed in Croatia so far. First up is how fast and crazily people drive. When we were in Estonia and Latvia two years ago, we noticed the zeal with which people pass other drivers, even into oncoming traffic. There were times on that trip when we just couldn't believe the risks that people took with that. Here, it seems that people are comfortable with a much closer space when tailgating the driver in front of them, even on the freeway. We got honked at a few times in Norway when we were driving because we weren't right on the bumper of the car in front of us. Here in Croatia, people just take matters into their own hands and swoop around you, coming inches from hitting your bumper when they're coming back into their lane. We figured this out quickly and just started to change into the right lane, as you would do in the U.S. if somebody were behind you wanting to pass. But, here it seems to happen much more suddenly. I also wanted to mention the climate here in Zadar. I'm sure it comes as no surprise, given that this is a beach town right across the Adriatic from Italy, that this is a pretty warm, humid, Mediterranean climate, and with that, there are wonderful things growing in people's gardens all over. Rowan just noticed today that the vines coming up onto the terrace on the second floor where we're staying are kiwi. There are kiwis that seem to be nearly ripe growing on that plant, so many of them! And in the garden, there are beautiful hydrangea: my favorite. Right down the little road on which we are staying, there's someone’s garden that has tomato plants all in tidy rows that look like they're flourishing, adjacent to some artichoke plants.

The street we’re staying on is not a fancy street by any stretch, and it kind of snakes around behind a gas station, and we’re not sure what the story is with the people who live on the first floor of the building we’re staying in, but all of the gardens are just so lush and bountiful around this house and down the narrow street we’re on. This apartment itself is nice: three bedrooms (we’re only using two) and two bathrooms. One of them is -- and I have to post a picture but have not taken one yet-- tiled in gold/copper 12-inch tiles with a crazy texture to them. Rowan was really impressed and said, “Wow! This bathroom is totally gold! It has to have been so expensive!” My comment was that it certainly was not “subtle or understated.” It really is all golden tile: floor, walls, shower enclosure, all but the ceiling. I have to remember to take a picture. The rest of the apartment is much more subtle and standard, but they pulled out all of the stops with the bathroom, and its golden shower, haha. Another observation: it seems like American tourists are something of a rarity in this town. If we were in Split, which is a much more popular Croatian beach town, that might be less of an anomaly, but here, it seems to be Croatian families, German families, Austrian families, Scandinavian families, but not very many Americans. And the tourist service industry here doesn't seem to be quite as deferential as one might expect, as people get accustomed to sometimes.That was the case in Estonia, Latvia, in Lithuania as well, and it seems to be pretty similar here, in that we've met a number of grumpy shopkeepers and staff folks at grocery stores and whatnot. In fact, Rowan and I were going into a bathroom, which we thought was a handicap / family bathroom at a gas station on a highway to Zadar, and the lady cleaning the bathroom actually grabbed me by the shoulder, chided me, and guided me into the regular bathroom. You live, you learn, about local customs :) Of course, we try to be as polite and friendly as we can be, but standards for that definitely vary, as they do even in the U.S. from state to state.

Anyway, another data point on this interpersonal behavior topic is that when we went to the grocery store on our first night and we were trying to get some salad things and a little sand pail and beach toys for the kids, at a grocery that is right across from the beach and probably gets a lot of tourists needing those things, the lady at the cash register took our lettuce away and said we couldn't buy it, for some reason, and it was very confusing to us. She seemed totally unbudging on the “no lettuce for you” point, so we just had to wait until the next day.

Anyway, the next day, Thursday, we started off at the beach in the morning and the kids played for hours on end, making sand molds with their pail and rock structures and little channels for the water to flow through with every small wave that came up. As I mentioned, the water's pretty warm, and I even went in all the way up to my rib cage, which is really saying something, and Eric went for a few swims. The kids spent quite a bit of time in the water with their floaties on but even more time right on the beach playing. As everyone knows, several hours on end in the sun sucks a lot of energy out, so we went home for lunch and Cece got a good nap. This Airbnb happens to have a panini press, which I'm not sure was ever used before, but we made some good grilled sandwiches for lunch along with yoghurt and honey and banana.

After Cece woke up, we took a drive of about 10 minutes to go to the Old Town, some of which dates back to the 13th century. The only towns of this type and age I've been to have been in Italy, with wall, fortresses, numerous churches, stone-- seemingly polished --walkways. The Zadar Old Town was pretty amazing to see, and I will post some pictures here. There were lots of Catholic churches and even some nuns with their heads poking out of windows, with the ringing of church bells sounding out loudly at 6 p.m. -- just a collection of bell sounds that was really pretty impressive! We're going to go back to the Old Town on one other day, because we really only had about an hour and a half on Thursday afternoon, and that wasn't enough to really get a sense of the whole area, which is actually pretty small but very dense. There is something called the “sea organ” that makes beautiful noise, and that Eric and I both read about, that we definitely want to check out. On this jaunt to Old Town, the kids did get ice cream, which of course they ask for every day ;) Cece got blueberry (of course) and Rowan got Tutti Frutti and was in love with its striated color.

It was super hot in the Old Town and we were all sweaty and had our energy sapped by the time we left. We got back to the apartment and I made some dinner (including some spaghetti with sauce that Cece declared “too yucky” --it turns out is was not tomato and eggplant and bell pepper sauce, which Eric thought it was, but bell pepper and eggplant with almost no tomato sauce, thus the odd taste to Cece--who does, for the record, love fresh bell pepper, oddly). Somehow, we just can't seem to manage to get the kids to bed before quarter after 9 and any night on this trip. That was the case again Thursday night. But it was a full day and it was great to actually see more of Central Zadar since the place we’re staying is a little bit North of the center. More about our Friday/all-day beach day in the next post and the Austrian who brought our kids not one, but two, tropic fruit drinks on ice, as we whiled away the day on the beach! And the money-taking guy at the beach gate who adored Rowan and gave him a packet of Rafaello candies!

I’ll post the pictures for this entry separately, in just a minute . . .

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parsleybabe · 6 years

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The Unpopular Opinion Book Questionaire

Before I start, credit where credit is due: I copied the questions and format of this post from @resist-the-fear’s post and this wordpress post, because I couldn’t figure out how to add my answers into the original post without messing up all formatting. And I’m really sorry if this upsets anybody, but the idea is cool and it’d be a shame not to continue it on tumblr.

So, here we go...

1. A Popular Book or series that you didn’t like.

1) Feels like the Twilight Saga would be the obvious answer (and it IS), but I’m gonna go for pretty much all of Dan Bown’s novels and I’m gonna explain my dislike with The DaVinci Code

This novel actually angered me so much that I wrote my master’s thesis on how Brown deliberately mislead the majority of his readers into mistaking his fiction for actual facts in order to sell more books.

The gist is, any and all art historic descriptions and information given within the book are fully fictional. That includes a page of “facts” (labeled as such) preceding the novel itself (which doesn’t contain any actual facts at all) and a note underneath stating that all descriptions of paitings were accurate. Spoiler alert: They’re not. I majored art history in school and did a lot of research, but, honestly, anybody who’s interested in art history and knows the very very basics about the renaissance and other time periods can easily disprove all of the novel’s supposedly accurate art descriptions.

And, to be truthful, I have to admit that Brown is really fucking good at fiction. He’s also really good at writing his fiction around and over existing art historic knowledge and twisting it without making it too obvious for careless readers. That’s kinda cool. And I get that disguising fiction as fact isn’t a new trend. I mean... Defoe did when he falsely claimed that Robinson Cruseo was a factual report of a true event, because the readership of his time period wasn’t familiar with adventure fiction. But what really annoyed me was 1) how many readers actually believed Brown to have uncovered some genuine conspiracy and 2) that Brown kept feeding into the delusion of those fans again and again through comments in interviews and webpages, even though he fully knew it’s all fiction, because he himself made it up.

2) And then there’s the Wanderhure series, written by a German writing couple under the pseudonym Iny Lorentz. I’m not sure if this has been translated into English, but it’s been highly popular in Germany and several other countries (won some awards and was made into a series of TV movies and whatnot). It is, quite honestly THE WORST BOOK I HAVE EVER READ IN MY WHOLE LIFE.

The first novel was recommended to me by relatives because parts of it take place in a city that I have lived in for quite some time, and it’s a historical fiction based on a medieval poem. The premiss of the novel is great: during the middle ages, a young and respected girl gets accused to have sinned by some townspeople and nobody believes her to be innocent, as she is just a girl. She gets cast out of her city and home, left with no other choice than to become a traveling whore if she wants to survive. She ends up becoming quite successful in her profession (in the sense that she has many high ranking clients from both church and state who pay her with lots of money and other favors) and returns to the city that cast her out long ago to have a huge effect on politics and religion.

The story was quite intriguing to me, both due to the interesting plotline as well as the reference to the city I live in. HOWEVER, it is horribly written. All characters, especially the protagonist, are unbelievably flat. There is no character development whatsoever, even though the story offers plenty of chances to find it. I read through the book because of the locations... houses that actually still exist, that I have been in, Gateways that i’ve walked through, roads that I’ve travelled on. Those are very well described. It’s easy to figure out each and every step the characters take on a map and that’s really cool. But the plotline was destroyed by less than mediocre characterization and simple, unimpressive language. Every time a character is supposed to feel something, the sentence literally goes, “She felt xyz” - and that’s as descriptive as it gets. There’s no atmosphere created and not an ounce of fluidity in the sentence structure. The whole narration is as dry as brick and the story reads like a two dimensional still drawing of a 3D rollercoaster ride.

2. A Popular Book or series that every one else seems to hate but you love.

I honestly don’t think that there’s any book series that EVERYBODY hates. And I do think that all the books I love, are actually pretty popular. Buuuuut...

I’ve seen the Mortal Instruments series getting a lot of hate on tumblr. And I fully understand why Cassandra Clare isn’t everybody’s favorite author. I don’t like her methods and procedure at all either. But, I have to say that I do like the basic plotline of the Mortal Instruments. I’ve only read the first three novels, and I have no clue what happens afterwards. And there’s a lot to be criticized, be it Clare “copying” existing dialogues, or some really flat and ... well, just plain naive characters. BUT the plot itself is cool. So, I felt positively entertained and liked it. Love would be a bit of a strong term, though, I think.

3. A Love Triangle where the main character ended up with the person you did NOT want them to end up with (warn ppl for spoilers) OR an OTP that you don’t like.

Not giving any spoilers, but the Demon’s Lexicon Trilogy. I really, really disliked the reveal of an actual pairing in the third novel. It didn’t make sense to me, and I wasn’t reading for romance to begin with. It kind of cheapened the story because the love interest side story suddenly got A LOT of attention that it didn’t before and that shifted the focal point of the overall plotline. (Loved the first book, really liked the second, couldn’t care less for the third, tbh)

4. A popular book Genre that you hardly reach for.

It’s either crime fiction or esoteric non-fiction.

I’m actually into a lot of different genres: almost all types of fiction (YA, dystopian, sci-fi, political, thriller, mystery, adventure, horror, fantasy etc.), also children’s books, travel books, hobby and craft books, satires, other humorous books, biographies/autobiographies, educational books, historical books both fiction and non-fiction...

Doesn’t matter, but crime fiction (as long as it doesn’t contain anything else) is just so boring to me. Also, it feels to me as if most crime fiction heroes solve those crimes with A LOT more lucky coincidences than I would hope actual crime fighters depend on.

And esoteric books are just completely outside my personal interests. Either the stuff described in those books feels like fiction to me while being sold as non-fiction, or it’s stuff that I feel should not be aquired through books but personal encounters and explorations.

5. A popular or beloved character that you do not like.

Definitely Clary Fray from the Mortal Instruments. Man, she is soooooo slow on the uptake and so naive in so many ways. And she’s also kind of a horrible Mary Sue, not just because of her name... (I mean, really? Clary, Ms Clare? 😔) But also because of how she is so awesomely good at everything and how she always thinks of the perfect solutions for everything when nobody else does. Kinda... very little room for character development. But, then again, who needs that, right?

6. A popular author that you can’t seem to get into.

Aside from Dan Brown? Here’s my unholy trinity...

1) Stephenie Meyer (yeah, the Twilight one) - I was actually sent an e-book copy of Twilight right before it became such a huge success. I started reading it, because my friend recommended it and praised it so highly. But, I couldn’t make it past a couple dozen pages. The writing style is just so bad, I couldn’t continue. The characters were so flat, I lost any and all interest in what was going to happen. And the story wasn’t all that intriguing either, especially because it was loaded with antiquated world views, especially Bella’s character and what was deemed right for her to do was just... WOW, it was just so unbelievably bad, lol. I was so surprised that it actually ended up being successful.

2) E.L.James (the 50 Shades one) - For years, I genuinely believed that it was impossible to write worse than Meyer. Boy, was I wrong. I tried several times to read more than ten pages of 50 Shades of Grey, and I failed every single time. It’s not just a bad story, I’ve seen children’s books for toddlers that have a more interesting sentence structure than what she comes up with for an adult audience. Her language is so dull and non-descriptive that even the supposedly racy sexy bits read like a phone book to me. Honestly, I DON’T GET WHY anybody ever had any interest in this book series. The language is unspeakably poor, the plot takes all the wrong turns it could possibly take, the “research” done before writing the book... I don’t even know where that load of complete misinformation could possibly come from.

3) Iny Lorentz (the writing couple I mentioned above: Elmar Wohlrath and Iny Klocke) - Just bad, bad, bad writing. No concept of character development, fiction asthetically written like non-fiction, no use of language to create atmosphere or convey emotions. They write neutral snoozefests. And... I can’t bring myself to write any more on them.

7. A popular book trope that you’re tired of seeing. (examples “lost princess”, corrupt ruler, love triangles, etc.)

Mary Sues and Gary Stues. But Love Triangles are a very hot contender.

8. A popular series that you have no interest in reading.

All the different Shades, lol.

9. The saying goes “The book is always better than the movie”, but what movie or T.V. show adaptation do you prefer more than the book?

Definitely Stand By Me which is Stephen King’s The Body. That movie is about as great as that story could have possibly been when put onto the screen. The actors were so perfectly cast, the cinematography, costumes and set design really captured the time period, atmosphere and geography, and the facial expressions portrayed all the right emotions beautifully.

Also, I have to say, out of all of King’s movie adaptations, and while neither The Body nor Stand By Me are categorized as horror, the scene where you can see the dead boy’s face is one of the scariest, most horrific moments I can think of in a film ever. It gave me nightmares when I first saw it, and still, to this day, I have to close my eyes when that scene comes up. And the cool thing is, it’s not meant to be specifically horrifying, or gory or scary. But the simplicity of the sudden glimpse into dead eyes, to me, is scarier than any monster I could imagine and does King’s reputation more than justice.

#books #personal #unpopular opinion

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amymel86 · 7 years

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Chapter 9 of Bound Souls...

….if anyone’s interested….

Sansa Stark, Aged 27

Weirwood Walk was only half a block away from Sansa’s apartment, and was a frequent favourite of her new canine friend, Lady.

The autumn breeze rustled through the colourful leaves, picking up the ones that had floated down to the paved walkway, whipping them about hers and Lady’s feet.

It was dusk, and Sansa loved that even though the days were getting shorter and the sun was being chased away much earlier, strings of as yet unlit lights were being hung from tree to tree. The autumn and winter months always were the cosiest, Sansa thought, letting Lady off of her pink and purple lead before pulling her scarf up to under her nose.

Sansa spent months painstakingly researching the possibilities of dogs assisting their Bound Soul owners and looking into different breeds and whatnot. She had originally gone to Winterfell Animal Rescue to pick out a German Shepherd puppy (just like Jon’s Ghost) - thinking that perhaps she could train it to help her with her blackouts (she also secretly hoped that the puppy might be able to sense when Jon was with her, like Ghost seems to do). But after seeing a litter of Husky pups and being set upon by a hoard of yipping, licking, wagging little balls of fluff, the mother of the litter came and calmly rested her head on Sansa’s lap and she was a goner.

Lady had been a puppy farm rescue. There was no telling how many times the poor girl had been bred from for the illegal gain of heartless individuals. But Sansa just knew that she had to have Lady - and the feeling seemed to be mutual.

“Come on girl” she called, noting that the Husky was rolling around in the dirt directly in front of the Heart Tree again.

She sure does favour that spot for some reason.

Sansa stared at the unblinking face of the Heart Tree. This was an ancient park - much bigger at one point, she’s sure, but the city had grown up around it, tall multi-story buildings sprouting from the earth where once there were trees. The Heart Tree with its bright red leaves and knowing face watched over the park from its centre.

Not far from here lay the ruins of Winterfell Castle. Tumble-down, blackened stone is what’s left of the ancient structure that Sansa is sure was once an impressive sight. She often imagines the feasts and dances that would have been held there in centuries past, when it was long-ago the seat of power for the whole of the North. It’s not much of grand sight nowadays though with not many of the stone walls remaining. More often then not, it’s the preferred haunt of drunks or groups of teenagers, but once a year, The Northern Heritage Trust holds a beautiful evening service with a candle-lit procession that starts at the ruins and ends here at the Heart Tree. The event is held as an act of remembrance of a great and terrible fire that engulfed the castle and also a nod towards the long forgotten and mostly unpractised religion of the Old Gods. However, somewhere along the line of history, a rumour of dragonfire and a great battle surfaced to add to the mythology of the castle’s downfall. Many locals nicknamed the evening of the procession ‘The Dragon Lights’, but Sansa never put stock into those stories of mythical beasts.

She tried to attend 'The Dragon Lights’ every year, walking with others from the crumbling old stone walls, through cordoned off streets and on through to the park with a small lit candle in her gloved hands. Sansa was not a particularly religious woman, but there was just something appealing about the pretty dancing lights as the day faded into night, about walking with her friends and neighbours, and about honouring the practices of her ancestors at the Heart Tree.

“That dog sure does like this tree” came a man’s voice, shaking Sansa of her thoughts. She searched for its owner - she saw an older man, sat on a bench, his elbows resting on his knees as smoke wafted from the cigarette between his fingers.

“Yeah - its her favourite” she smiled, looking back at Lady who was on her third lap of the Heart Tree, sniffing every bit of bark she could reach.

“Most of 'em don’t like it on account o’ the face” he commented, blowing smoke into the evening air.

“Not my Lady - she’s a brave girl” Sansa replied proudly, stomping her tan leather boots, realising just how cold and dark it was getting.

The old man smiled. “Dogs can be pretty smart. I reckon she’s prayin’ t’ the Old Gods for somthin’” they both looked back to Lady, who had returned to rolling on her back in the dirt before the Heart Tree.

Sansa shoved her hands in her coat pockets “either that or she’s found some fox poo” she grimaced, remembering the last time Lady had done just that. The old man threw back his head in laughter that seemed to warm the night.

“Aye. They do like doing that!” he said with a chuckle. “One young lad who worked with me takes his clever mutt everywhere - I’ve lost count o’ the times he’d had to hose the stinkin’ beast down, poor lad. Good lad he was - a man now. Don’t see much o’ him nowadays on account o’ bein’ retired an all” the man shrugged, staring at the paved walkway at his feet sadly. Sansa stood there, not quite knowing what to say before his nodding head came up to look at her again. “Don’t get old lass - it’s not much fun. I’d rather be out there doing things than restin’ for the remainder of my days.” Sansa answered him with a small smile. “Aye. If I had one thing to ask of the Old Gods, it would be t’ never grow old with weak knees and sorry lungs” he wheezed for emphasis.

“Those aren’t going to help” Sansa jested with a raised brow and a nod towards the cigarette in his hand. The old man chuckled.

“Aye, you’re right lass” he said, stubbing the cigarette out on the bench. His hand disappeared into his jacket and pulled out the packet. He shook out another cig and held it between his lips “But who’s going to deny an old man a little pleasure in the last years o’ his life ay?” He said, the cigarette bobbing up and down as he talked. The mans hands had been searching every pocket on his body, patting down his clothing until he came upon what he was looking for, pulling out a lighter and cupping it from the evening breeze as he lit the end of his cigarette. He puffed more smoke before talking again. “What about you? What would you ask of the Old Gods?”

Sansa absentmindedly watched the glow of the end of the man’s cig as the smoke wafted and disappeared.

I know what I’d pray for.

She cleared her throat and shuffled her boots a little on the pavement, glancing down at the multicoloured leaves all wet and stuck to the walkway. “Happiness” she proclaimed with surety “I’d pray for happiness.”

The old man smiled widely and nodded his approval “A very wise choice. I hope you find it."

With that, the strings of lights among the trees and lamp post abruptly blinked on, illuminating the walkway, making the park look cozy and beautiful. Sansa and the old man smiled as they looked around, taking in the glow of the lights. "Maybe the Old Gods are listening” he commented.

After a few more minutes of pleasant chit-chat, Sansa called for Lady and bid the man a good evening, smiling at the couples and other dog walkers as she made her way out of the park.

Remembering that she’d forgotten to check her mailbox this morning, Sansa scooped up the many articles of junk mail and the odd bill once she and Lady made it back to her building. Flicking through the pile as they climbed the stairs, mentally deciding which items to bin, they bumped into Gendry, her neighbour. Lady’s tail began wagging furiously as she strained on the lead to get a good sniff of their friend.

“Hey Sans” he called, alerting her to his presence on the stairwell.

“Oh! Hey! Sorry - world of my own” she laughed, waving her wad of envelopes.

Gendry returned a smile and crouched down to welcome Lady. “And how’s my furry buddy?” He was rewarded with being knocked on his ass as the dog jumped on him, wanting to play. “You all ready for your big trip?” he asked once he’d managed to push off Lady’s eager attentions and get back to his feet.

Sansa groaned internally. She was to fly to Dorne in the morning - an Art Gallery chain down there had expressed an interest in exhibiting her newest collection 'Winter is Here’ and she was all kinds of nervous. At least her mother was going with her - and extending the trip to a two week holiday.

“No - still got far too much packing to do!…Are you sure that you’re alright to have Lady for me while I’m gone?”

That had been another thing Sansa had worried over, she had never left Lady with anyone but family before, but Gendry seemed keen to help her out. And besides, the dog loved him.

“Yeah, yeah! It’s totally fine Sansa! Looking forward to it, actually!” he said quickly, leaning down to pat the husky again. “Umm….I was kind of wondering if maybe I should take the phone number of someone - you know, in case of a dog-related emergency…umm….someone like….you’re sister?…maybe?”

Sansa laughed as she watched Gendry’s face slowly turn a shade of scarlet. “Arya?.. You know, if you just wanted to ask her out, I’m sure she’d be receptive.”

“Really?” he asked hopefully, making Sansa’s smile turn fond and warm.

“Yes” she nodded “there’s no need for a dog-sitting ruse, I’m pretty sure I saw her checking out your butt the last time she was over and we met you coming in from your run.”

He beamed back at her, obviously pleased with this new bit of information. “Thanks Sansa!…and I really don’t mind having Lady for you. We’re gonna have a great time aren’t we girl?” He said, returning to his crouching position to fuss over the dog.

After getting into her little one bed apartment, Sansa let go of Lady’s lead, letting the husky trot off to her water bowl with the pink and purple bit of leather trailing along behind her. She threw her handbag on the floor and slumped back against the closed front door to execute a rather dramatic and yet satisfying groan of resignation.

Gendry would be perfect for Arya, she mused with a small smile. It wasn’t that she would not be happy for her sister - just that she wasn’t sure when that very same happiness could become a reality for herself. Her mind kept flip-flopping and falling through 'what-ifs’ whenever she pondered her love-life (past and prospective).

There was the issue of Jon. There will always be the issue of Jon. But what with her blackouts becoming few and far between, she wondered if they might soon be stopping altogether.

What if they have already stopped and I never have another? Would I know? Would I feel any different? Would our souls still be bound together?

My life would be simpler. But…..we ARE bound….a part of him will always be with me and me with him. Is it fair to expect someone else to just accept that?

Sansa pushed off from leaning on the door and went to her bedroom to fish out her suitcase from beneath her bed. She opened it and began packing for her trip to Dorne, muttering to herself about how many clothing options she might want or which jewellery she should take. Lady came bounding in and decided to run in circles around Sansa’s legs as she had an armful of folded clothes.

“Lady! Kind of busy here girl, I can’t play right now.”

The dog ignored her mistress and continued boisterously looping around her legs, snorting excitedly. Sansa dumped the clothes rather unceremoniously into the awaiting suitcase and bent to unclasp Lady’s lead that was still attached. She picked up one of Lady’s many squeaky toys from the floor, gave it a couple of quick squeaks and threw it out of her bedroom door, expecting Lady to take chase - but she didn’t. The dog only glanced behind her at the toy, bouncing away in the hall before looking back up at Sansa and cocking her head.

That’s weird. that’s one of her favourite t-

Sansa’s head hit the carpet before she had a chance to finish her thoughts.

“Yeah, can I get a Large Mighty Meaty Pizza, a side of Spicy Wedges and a large coke please mate” Sansa heard before her vision became clear and she could survey the scene before her. Jon’s socked feet were propped up on the coffee table - the coffee table that was littered with newspapers, dirty plates and few empty beer bottles. There was a football game on the TV, the bright green of the pitch was almost blinding against the dim light of the one lamp that he had on in his lounge “Yep-yep, usual address” she heard him say as he briefly scratched his crotch through his grey sweatpants.

Charming, Sansa thought with a chuckle.

Sansa watched as Jon hung up his call with what was obviously his usual pizza delivery place. He scrolled through his contacts and landed on one called 'Grenn’, Jon’s thumb tapped the call icon and then the phone disappeared from Sansa’s view. Sansa looked around his lounge as she heard the ring ring of his phone call. It looked like Jon had finished painting the walls (and there didn’t seem to be any paint spills evident on the floors) but the furniture was a bit scarce and plain.

He needs some things up on the walls, some photos or paintings or-

“Whadup dickhead” came the voice over the phone that Sansa didn’t recognise.

“Charming. Is that any way to speak to your boss?” Jon replied with a chuckle.

“So you coming to Sam’s for polker night tonight or what?” Sansa heard 'Grenn’ ask, completely ignoring Jon’s question.

“Shit!” Jon’s head fell back and Sansa was suddenly looking at his ceiling “I forgot about polker night! I just ordered pizza!”

“Eh” Sansa could practically hear Jon’s friend shrug “we could come to yours.”

“Mine?” Jon lifted his head and took in the state of his lounge.

Yeah, you might want to tidy before having company, Jon.

"My place is a state.“

"Well get your rubber gloves and maid outfit on and get t’ cleanin’ mate, 'cause I need to win back that 40 dragons from last week.”

Just then, Ghost ran in and bounced up onto the sofa next to Jon. He began sniffing and licking at Jon’s face.

Oh here we go again, Sansa thought with amusement. Good boy! Oh I missed you, Ghostie! The dog’s tail seemed to wag even more furiously as Jon tried to push his canine friend away.

“Yeah-yeah, I’ll clean up” he said down the phone whilst still trying to fend off his dog with one hand. “Just gimme a little while and bring the beers and-” Jon froze and turned to look at Ghost who was padding his front paws excitedly on the sofa cushions. “I gotta go” he said into the phone before hanging up and putting it on the table.

“Ghost?” Jon said to his dog “Ghost, is…..is Sansa here?”

Sansa felt like her heart had stopped and her chest was holding her breath captive.

“Is she here buddy?” she saw him raise his hand and suspected that he tapped at his temple or head.

Yes, she thought in shock. I’m here.

Ghost let out a little gruff bark that was half snort.

“Okay-okay, err….” Jon stared at his coffee table for a bit before returning to his dog “Sansa?…..If…If you’re there…umm…fuck! This is insane, I’m talking to myself!”

No you’re not! You’re not! I’m here!“

"Okay, lets try…..ahhh….Sansa, if you’re there….uh…tell Ghost to do something.”

Ghost, she thought with her most commanding inner voice. Ghost, SIT.

The dog licked his lips and sat on the sofa, looking at Jon expectantly. Jon leapt up from his seated position. “Oh shit! Okay, err…shit!…Uhh…tell him to do something else.”

Sansa focused all of her attention on the dog who was cocking his head adorably up at Jon. Ghost! DOWN! She watched as he alighted the sofa and sat at Jon’s feet, looking up with a tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, his tail thumping on the floor. SPEAK, she thought, and the dog complied with a short sharp bark. Jon practically jumped backwards, knocking into the coffee table. Ghost! LAY DOWN! Sansa watched as the white dog did as he was bid. ROLL OVER. Ghost rolled over, showing his belly as he stared up at Jon.

“Fuck! Oh God! Okay…ahhh….final test” Jon said to the room “tell him to go fetch his L E A D” he spelled out.

Ghostie! Where’s your lead boy? Go get it! Go get your lead! Ghost yipped and trotted off excitedly only to return with a brown leather lead in his mouth, trailing along the floor. GOOD BOY!! Sansa’s heart rate was through the roof and she swore she could feel goosebumps on her skin.

“You’re here? You’re really here?!” Jon exclaimed excitedly. Saw his hands held out in front of him as he asked her the question that she couldn’t answer. He started pacing, Ghost followed him around the room, lead still in his mouth “I errr…..I saw you once - for real, I mean…it was- it was at that coffee shop by Weirdwood Walk, well, it-it used to be a coffee shop - it’s a clothing store now, you were wearing purple and I didn’t know it was you and- and- shit! I’m rambling, I’m sorry!"

Sansa felt like giggling, she felt like grinning widely, she felt like launching herself at him to wind her arms around his neck and feel the warmth of his body against hers - but she couldn’t do any of that.

Jon halted his pacing, somehow he’d made it out to a hallway. "I had a blackout and that’s when I found out it was you at the coffee-” he had walked past a large mirror on the wall as he continued to babble to himself before stopping and coming back to stand square on with the mirror.

Oh my! It’s you! It’s really you! That’s what you look like?!

“So err…this is me” he said, gesturing to his reflection “Shit” he muttered after taking himself in, he discarded of the glasses he was wearing and tried to tame his wild dark curls that were reaching out in all kinds of angles. “Fuck!…I mean - sorry!….I just would’ve liked to look my best when you saw me.”

Oh trust me, you have nothing to worry about! And…..you look…familiar.

Jon stared at himself, a look of awe dawning on him “Sansa…. you looked so fucking beautiful in that coffee shop…I would have approached you but-” his voice started to become muffled and thick like her ears were rapidly filling up with cotton wool. “Meet me-” she could just about make out.

No!! Meet you where?! WHERE?!

“Meet me……..My full name is….. Sansa, please meet me…..I’ll be waiting.”

Sansa awoke with tears of frustration already preparing to fall. She dragged herself up using her bed and flung herself back upon it to stare at the ceiling.

#jonsa #jon x sansa #bound souls #soulmate au

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lindabozafi-blog · 7 years

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I NEED TO STALK PEOPLE!

Yus, I want to. 😆 Preferably, anime and manga but I love all works of art, from photography all the way to literature 😄( I'm looking for you bootiful writers out there)! So, If you are: • an ARTIST (aspiring , hobbyist, pro and whatnot ) send me yo LINK (tumblr only)* bellow in the comments and lemme see yo art! • a fan of ARTIST(S) you believe needs more attention than already has/have or you just love them and want to support them , comment bellow dem LINK(S) (tumblr only)* so I can find them and love them too! *DISCLAIMER* • feel free to go wild in the comments I don't mind, but DON'T you GET OFFENDED on me cause I didn't follow you or your favourite artists or even your granny for making cherry tarts ( by the way, I'd love to follow such a granny:___D ) • Don't worry i won't ask of anyone to follow me just because "I'm a great gurl and want to support people so you should feel obligated to support me back" - NO!- You like my art and want to follow me for more? Go ahead and Thank you! 😚 you don't want to follow me or/and my works are not your thing? Perfectly fine too~ 😘 * tumblr links only! Cause if I want to stalk people on other media I'll either find dem from their navigation or ask them personally~ thank you~ And since we are at it, here are some great artists you should follow if you want~ 😋 • http://yuncumber.tumblr.com • http://lupizora.tumblr.com • http://kurre-kurre.tumblr.com Look at you go! You reached the end of the post! Well done! Here is an adorable German Shepherd puppy for youu 💕

#let me stalk you #let me follow you #art #artists on tumblr #artist #literature #writers #manga #anime #let me love you #lemme see dem pretty works #comment link #im serious #sorry im not famous to make you famous #lindabozafi #find followers

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mcrmadness · 4 years

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Random dreams vol 57285720

I don’t know if it’s the constant smell of smoke in my nose or what but I just saw the weirdest Rammstein themed dream today.

I was to some festival and first I think it started happening on a parking lot, cars and rain etc. and I guess it had something to do with some other bands/guys from other bands, but I was then walking towards this narrow (like, 10-20m?) gravel path that led to a huge stage and I think it was the stage from Provinssi 2016 where Rammstein performed at. Anyway, I was walking with someone and then I found this small, metal device from the ground along the path and I then told this guy: “You know what this is?” and he was like “No? What is it?” and I started to tell him a story about how it’s one of those things Rammstein uses to make those huge fire pillars happen. And the device started to make some fire too, but those pillars were not even close to the size of the ones at the Rammstein concerts.

Then we continued walking and we not came to the front of the stage and apparently I was to a Rammstein concert now. And the venue was very small - a festival sized stage but there were room only for few hundred or thousdan people in front of the stage. Which then suddenly changed into this very small stage that couldn’t have even fit 6 guys with their instruments, at all. I had my phone which I planned on using as a filming device and I then saw the guys starting to come on stage from behind the back curtains, and they did but guess what? The stage and venue was so small they decided not to give a normal concert but some... weird acoustic type of concert. And they all looked like they did in -96 or -97. And my subconscious had a good explanation for that: they didn’t plan on making a show so they showed up as their normal selfes, without makeup and costumes. But apparently their “normal selves” looked like their -96-97 touring costumes, but honestly, more like wearing just regular clothes and not even costumes. And they came into the “crowd” too, I was sitting at a table alone near wall (and at some point our dog appeared there too with me) and behind me there was a circular sofa with a table in the middle. There were people but I’m not sure if I knew who they were at this point. And then at the other direction there were people standing but no one of them were rushing to the guys but they were still partying hard there as if there was a concert. And I was bit disappointed that the guys did not choose to actually play anything, they just came to the crowd and left the instruments (if there was any) on the “stage”. Paul and Flake were actually sitting right in front of me and the others gathered to sit on that circular sofa with other people. At this point I remember wondering if I should take a photo of Paul and maybe I could post it on Tumblr, “hey I got a high quality photo of Paul’s face!” lol.

Then at some point I heard that someone started singing with pretty ugly voice, they were clearly trying to imitate the guy who was the singer for Feeling B and actually they did quite good job, sometimes sounding almost the same, but the German pronunciation was perfect. And I was trying to see who the fuck it was who was singing, they were sitting on the floor with their back at me and I looked at each Rammstein member and I figured I found them all but none of them was singing. Then this person stopped singing and I realized IT WAS MY SISTER - other people there were my family, I think. And I just commented that “I didn’t know she could speak German to beging with.” and I couldn’t comprehend how she was able to remember the lyrics so well because I don’t think she in reality memorizes any lyrics.

Then at some point the Rammstein guys got up and started to leave because their “concert” was over, and I had been my shy self so I hadn’t said a word to Paul or Flake when they sat there near me the whole time, so they all left but they still hadn’t done the “encore”. Some of them came back and then went away, Flake was wearing a hoode with a face at the back too and I don’t know if he was basically having two faces or what the fuck was going on, but it was weird, and his hoodie had black and white stripes. And when Paul was again on the stage I finally got up and walked to him to ask in VERY POOR English that if I could get his signature. And I think he even asked me something, I said “what” in Finnish but then corrected myself into English (seriously why can’t I be socially normal even in my dreams???) and he repeated it, I think he asked “Oh you mean like write my name on a paper?” And I was like “Yes, now I just need to get some paper”, as I turned around and walked to my stuff and found an orange notebook, which I said about: “This is my English notebook but it’s totally fine.” and Paul was there ready to write something when I was trying to find an empty page. I’m not sure if I then asked him if he could “ask his friends” as well if they could come back just that I could get their signatures.

What I remember the best next is that I didn’t see the other guys anymore, but Oliver. And we were in my aunt’s old apartment and where there used to be very small sofa for 2 people, now suddenly could fit so many people on it. There were sitting: Oliver, my mom, “my both grandmas” who I don’t know if they even were mine or not; and maybe also my siblings. This is where it got confusing: there were pretty much two different “plots” from now on.

First: I was cleaning up something and I went to this balcony with some plastic covers for old candy boxes or so, plastic bags and whatnot, and I was trying so hard to clean up something that I suddenly just had a mental breakdown because I felt like I can’t do this anymore, I’m too exhausted to do anything anymore.

Second: the first one happened I think, but in that version it kinda ended there or continued to somewhere I can’t remember, but in this version I went back inside and Oliver handed me a bag of coins and it had something to do with Euros but that’s all I can remember.

Then at some point we were somewhere else, actually reminds me bit of my old kindergarten but it was not important; Oliver came to me with some colorless “doll” figure, it was like made from rubber or plastic and just in the shape of a doll. And he gave it to me with a tape around it and he had written “I AM SORRY :(” on it in Finnish (”OLEN PAHOILLANI :(”), and I was like what, why is he sorry, and he was sorry that he had accidentally written his signature on the doll/figurine/statue lol. Which did not bother me at all, but I also did not see his signature anywhere.

I feel like this Oliver thing happened much earlier because I started to wake up in that part where I had a conversation with Paul, and I remember just thinking “no you’re not gonna wake me up now, let me see how this dream finishes!” and I could actually see how it ended, I just don’t know in what part the Oliver thing happened but I woke up soon after the signature hassle.

I don’t know how often other people see dreams about things that clearly happened in the past or that have features of something from the past, but I always feel bit freaked out whenever I dream about things like this, like Rammstein looking like they did in -97 (even tho I did not know anything about them until 2005 or so, at least nothing that I’d know of), or when I have my dead relatives visit me in my dreams, or when I go to places that I used to be to when I was a child. They always freak me out a little, especially the ones where I’m pretty much living that era again. Maybe it’s just my anxiety but it often makes me wonder if I might be having some sort of memory related illness someday in the future because I know people with those often start seeing reality the way it was in their childhood or adulthood and I always feel bit scared after dreams like these because what if I’m going mad or going to lose my sense of reality and time?

#mcrmadness dream diary #(rammstein)

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