#stray sod

[airborneice]

i think we all know who the REAL star of season 3 is

i'm making a vague attempt to pace out this season by doing a drawing after each episode, so anyway here's my new fave character

#rip to my friend and brother who had to hear me start screaming with delight 5 minutes in when this guy showed up #THEY BROUGHT BACK MY BOY #I MEAN ITS A DIFFERENT ONE AND ITS A GIRL BUT ITS STILL THE DIRT GUYS. THANK YOU #whoever on the creative team made this decision i owe you my life #these guys are animated in the most delightful way and i love them #hilda spoilers #hilda season 3 #hilda season 3 spoilers #season 3 spoilers #hilda s3 spoilers #is that enough spoilers tags #yeah this is my fanart for episode 1. did something happen in that ep i was too busy looking at the creature of all time #jk i loved the episode so much. everyone better be so grateful that i chose not to draw the thing instead for this post i love himb #s3 is knocking it out of the park with funky little guys #hilda the series #hilda netflix #stray sod #hilda loam #art tag

[evolutionsvoid]

When traveling out in the field and trudging through the wilds, one of the most important things to remember is to watch where you step. Now that may seem incredibly obvious to some, but you would be surprised how easy it is to forget! You may be careful and watchful one second, and then you see a rare bird flutter across the sky and your eyes cannot resist the sight! Or you hear the sound of trolls getting into a dispute right over the ridge line and you are desperate to reach it before the show is over, so you thoughtlessly scramble over the rocks! Or perhaps you are navigating the darkened tunnels of the Underworld and your demoness guide is holding you close so you don't get lost and you can't help but see her visage illuminated by the wonderful glow of the lightworms which totally happened to a colleague of mine back when they went to see the Underworld but that was a different time then when I went so I wasn't really there for that but I totally heard stories about it! Ha, wild! Crazy how that happens to people! Anyways, as you can see from the myriad of examples that other people went through that I happened to hear, it is quite easy to take your eyes off your footing and blunder into an incredible mess! You might step into a hidden hole and twist a leg, or misjudge your step and trip right onto your face! Such painful and embarrassing situations that could have been easily avoided by keeping your eyes on your roots.

Another good reason to do this is so that you keep an eye out for all the critters that live in the underbrush, the tiny beasts you don't even know are there. This is good advice, as it allows you to witness the small creatures that are so vital to this world but are so easily ignored. Some may scoff at the idea of being excited by rodents and bugs, as people only really care about the big beasts. I say that is a load of rot! Those who truly appreciate nature and the vast world of life around know that some of the greatest finds can be discovered beneath rocks and hidden in grassy burrows. Plus, having an eye and appreciation for the smaller world means you are always guaranteed to see something wonderful on every trip! I know some of my excursions have been saved from dullness by the sudden arrival of an amazing insect, sometimes found in my very tent! Days without seeing a thing and then suddenly a horned rainbow centipede is skittering right across the tent floor, as if it was a gift being delivered to me! It was a fascinating sight, though a little short lived because Eucella accidentally collapsed the tent in her clumsiness after I pointed out our wonderful guest. Though she was at least insistent on me finding the poor thing, refusing to step root even near the tent until I located it. I thought that was quite considerate, as she very much didn't want to step on the little fella. And that is another reason to watch your roots! You don't want to step on any poor creatures! How terrible would it be to crush a beautiful specimen and not even notice! What a waste! Come to study the wonderful animals and then you trample them into the dirt! In some cases, though, it is important not to step on them for your own safety. Spiny little critters or venomous serpents, neither are things you want to tread on. In this case, the thing you want to watch out for is the Nettlelamb. It is a small and harmless looking thing, but its not the one in danger if your root comes down on it.

The Nettlelamb is a gastropod, in fact, it seems to have a close relation to the Gardenbacks! Imagine that! One so big related to one so small! Crazy how the world works! Anyways, the Nettlelamb is a small slug-like creature, rarely growing over more than half a foot. It is found in places with lots of grassy vegetation, like your grasslands, prairies and fields. It crawls along the ground, blending in with the surrounding brush due to its green coloration. This camouflage helps keep it safe from predators, as they can't pick it out from the greenery that is all around. This allows it to merrily munch upon smaller bugs and invertebrates, like worms, without hardly a care. It also appears that it gets some nourishment from the sun, photosynthesizing just like its big cousins! However, it obviously needs to feed on some real food, as being that small means it is easy to wind up in the shade. At times, when food is scarce, they may crawl out into a bright patch of sunlight to soak it up, which can be dangerous. When out in the open like that, it is easier for enemies to spot them. Never fear, though, as the Nettlelamb doesn't rely on just camouflage!

When they feel threatened, the Nettlelamb will raise thin spines from its back. In a moment, they will turn from a harmless green slug into a patch of nasty barbs! These spikes are incredibly fine, but are in no way delicate. They may bend but they will not break, and they have a super sharp tip on their end. Think of them like needles, so thin and sharp that you may not even notice you got pricked. These are the weapons they brandish when something big dares get close to them, and it is quite the intimidating display! Sure, they don't look that bad at first, but would you take a bite out of something coated in pointy needles? Turns out, lots of creatures say no to this. Even more so when they learn that these spines are venomous! A single puncture will send a dose of venom right into the body, and nobody wants that! So needless to say, not a lot of things mess with a Nettlelamb. At least, not on purpose...

As small venomous creatures, many would think that they are hardly an issue to beings like humans and dryads. Just teach people not to touch them or eat them, and all is well! Unfortunately, it isn't that easy. As I said, they live in grassy areas, and hide within the vegetation. They won't invade your house to torment you, but they will become a problem if you blunder into theirs. Their size and camouflage makes them hard to see, which results in folk getting quite close to these venomous little things. When they sense a disturbance, those spines go up and they try to scare off this approaching foe. However, these barbs are thin and green, causing them to look like grass. So when a Nettlelamb goes on the defensive, they wind up blending in even more with their surroundings. So what happens is that the ignorant traveler doesn't even see them and winds up bringing their foot down right onto the poor creatures. Thankfully, their squishy mollusk nature means they have no bones or exoskeleton to break, and a flexible anatomy means they can survive a light flattening. What isn't so good is that their thin sharp needles are now being pressed down upon, which means at least one of them is piercing the unwary traveler. These spines are so fine, that they can go through thin leather and rinds, with the walker not even being aware of the attack. You hardly feel the puncture, so it is easy to miss when your mind is elsewhere. They stab right through when you step down, then slide right out when you pick your foot back up. You won't notice thing, perhaps a faint sting you might attribute to weary feet. However, it won't be long before you notice something is off, and by that point it is too late to stop it.

The first thing I want to tell my probably frightened readers is that the venom of the Nettlelamb is not lethal. Be reassured in that fact. Stepping on one won't kill you, but it may cause issues that may lead to an untimely demise. Probably not the best way to say that, but oh well. While the venom doesn't attack your blood or paralyze you, it does have some effects on the nervous system. It seems to target the brain, causing headaches, disorientation and wooziness. Some have said that it is like being drunk, losing sense of where you are at or how you are controlling your own body. Minutes after the initial injection, victims will experience cloudy thoughts and blurry vision. It will be subtle at first, with many people not even noticing it when it begins. As it ramps up, they grow more disoriented and uncontrolled, having a hard time getting their bearings or understanding what is going on. Some have even claimed brief memory loss, winding up in places and not knowing how they got there. The good news is that this venom is not long lasting, as their small size often means a tiny dose, which eventually is worked out through your body. The effects only last an hour, before fading away until you return to clarity. The bad news is that an hour of delirium can be quite the problem when you are out in the wilds. Sure, being out of it for a bit when you are at home is fine, but the untamed outdoors is not good place to be blundering about blindly. What usually happens is that the victim stumbles about randomly until they return to their senses, which causes them to wake up in a place they don't know. It is easy to get off track or waltz away from your trail, and your cloudy brain won't remember which way you went or where you are now. You just find yourself hopelessly lost or turned around, and at that point your survival depends on how good you are at recognizing your surroundings and regaining your bearings. In many cases, this isn't a deadly problem, as folks are close enough to civilization that they will eventually wander their way back to something recognizable. In worse scenarios, you are deep in unknown territory and have now walked far from your markers or camp. This is how well trained woodsmen and hunters can wind up vanishing into the wilderness, as one wrong step causes them to make stupid decisions and wind up far from safety. In the absolute worst case scenario, you never wake up to find yourself lost, because some other beast decided to eat you as you floundered about. I imagine a few creatures have found themselves an easy meal out of those who accidentally tangled with a Nettlelamb.

Now I know people are wondering, "hey, Chlora, have you ever stepped on a Nettlelamb? How did you get out of that situation?" Everyone figures that my many travels have caused me to encounter and experience every danger and disaster, so obviously I have dealt with one of these before. And I have, but not in the way you think. Recall that dryads have a pretty good tolerance to poisons and venoms, as they are usually designed for meaty beings and not plant folk. There are a few cases where they can still have the same effect on us, but it isn't common. The Nettlelamb does not cause the delirium in us, as our nervous system is too different. However, dryads do feel an effect from Nettlelamb venom. It seems like the design of this poison is close enough that it effects other parts of our brain, quite unintentionally! We don't feel disoriented or dizzy, instead dryads get hungry. For whatever reason, it appears that the venom hits the part of our brain that tells us when we are hungry and full, and causes it to think we are starving. Like the comparison to being drunk, our effect is that endless hunger you get when you are buzzed. Even with a full stomach, we are ravenous, tearing into any food we got and still looking for more. What tends to happen is overeating to the point of sickness, vomiting it all back up well before it is done digesting. While it doesn't make us get lost, it can lead us to depleting our rations quickly and making stupid decisions to get food. One dryad that was recovered from the wilderness wound up breaking her leg from scrambling up a tree after a squirrel. So desperate for food, that she thought she could snag one of those slippery critters with her bare hands! Another disastrous encounter had a group of hunters hike for three days into the wilderness for game, only to have one get poisoned and wind up eating all their food. With empty stomachs, they had a hard time concentrating to bring down any animals, and wound up stumbling back home half-starved. And as I mentioned, I too have accidentally stepped on a Nettlelamb. Thankfully, it was on the way back from an expedition, where I was so tired and eager to get back to civilization that I wasn't paying attention. At some point I got jabbed, so when I entered that quaint little village I was like a wild animal. That poor old man selling sausages never saw it coming, I hit that cart like a pack of wild dogs. To be fair, I did pay for them, but my manners while eating them were...rather sloppy. After some time the effects wore out, especially after emptying my stomach into the nearest latrine, and I was sure to apologize and compensate him for the incident. Thankfully, most people thought I was drunk or on something, so they let it slide rather easily.

So to avoid these dangerous, or embarrassing, scenarios, what should you do? Well, the biggest thing is to watch where you walk. Keep an eye on the ground at your feet and you may spot the Nettlelamb before you stomp them. The other thing you can do is have decent footwear. A sturdy pair of boots will prevent the spines from getting all the way through, while cheap or flimsy stuff will be punched through like paper. As for dryads, those with thicker bark may have a better chance of avoiding a puncture, while those with softer rinds are vulnerable. Even then, there is a chance one spine can find a chink in the armor and pierce right through. My bark is pretty decent, but apparently it hit just the right spot to stab one of my roots. Another thing to keep in mind is that if you aren't feeling good or feel that you are out of it, sit down and take a break. Don't trek on thinking it will wear off, as that is how you get in trouble. If that dizzy feeling kicks in, drop where you are at and rest. From the many stories we gathered about those who get poisoned, it seems that stopping your movements means a higher chance that your delirious self won't go much farther. In that state, a sitting person is more likely to fall asleep or blank out for a good long while, which means you will wake up in a more recognizable spot. If you don't want to end up as another person who "vanished into the wilderness" take this advice to heart.  

Which brings to mind a really weird song that the human children would sing, it was about this creature but its been a long time since I heard it. It just goes to show you how even the smallest animal can make such an impact, to the point where it shows up in nursery rhymes. Now if only I could remember it! Seems kind of silly to bring up this piece of trivia and then not tell you folks the song! Oh, how did it go again? It was "Mary found a Nettlelamb, Nettlelamb, Nettlelamb" or wait, was it "Mary tramped a Nettlelamb?" Or maybe the word was "stomped?" Oh what a mess this is! Regardless, it was something like "Mary found a Nettlelamb, Nettlelamb, Nettlelamb" and then....something. Goodness, I am really getting a knot from this! Well, what I do know is that they say that part a lot, then one of those lines ends with "They only found her bones."

Chlora Myron

Dryad Natural Historian  

------------------------------------------------------

This critter comes from a collaboration between

Lediblock2

and me, where we looked to turn the mythical Stray Sod into an actual organism. I decided to sprinkle in some Hungry Grass while we were at it.  

#art #drawing #slug #sea slug #nudibranch #stray sod #monster #creature #grass

[wickedsrest-rp]

NAME: Fae Grass 

ALSO KNOWN AS: Fairy Grass

RARITY: ★★☆☆☆

THREAT LEVEL: ★★☆☆☆ | Ultimately just grass, but unlabeled patches can cause death on a fairly large scale depending on effect. Some are more harmful than others.

HABITAT: Meadows and farmland, though they can also be found in town in large, flat areas like the Common or soccer fields. Not generally found at high altitudes or in crowded woods.

DESCRIPTION: Some trickster fae – most often pixies or sprites – are known to enchant patches of grass or plant their own seeds. These often grow into fae grasses that can have negative effects on people who walk through them. Some of the most well-known examples include stray sod, which causes people to lose their way, and hungry grass, which can cause rapid starvation. Fae grasses are typically found in meadowland and farmland. They’re less likely to be found in the middle of town, but fields and yards can be a draw. Sometimes it’s planted near the homes of fae to keep intruders away, and other times it’s just planted for the fun of it; in either case, the fae responsible often hangs out nearby to keep watch. 

These grasses are harmless to look at and be around, but once stepped through, they will cause problems. Fae grass may have a variety of effects on people, often unpredictable to even the fae who planted them. Unfortunately, fae grass is hard to spot. It just looks like ordinary grass, and while wardens can sense it, they can only do so very weakly. 

WEAKNESS: Fae grass cannot be killed or destroyed by most people. Burning it with fire or having a fae dig it up will work in the short term, but the grass will quickly re-grow. The only permanent way to get rid of it is to strike some kind of deal with the specific fae who planted it; they will repay a favor with the removal of the grass. Fae are not affected by it, nor are wardens. Some people choose to put a small fence up around the plot of grass that’s causing them problems.

VARIANTS: 

Hungry grass: This grass looks no different from ordinary grass, making it dangerous to those who can’t sense it. Anyone who walks through hungry grass will become ravenously hungry and, if they don’t eat something, they will gradually become weaker until they eventually collapse on the ground and die. Not a fun way to go. Fae can be jerks. Don’t step in it, and if you do, make sure you’re carrying food on you. Someone who eats after stepping in hungry grass will make a fast and full recovery. Perhaps sharing some of that food with the fae who planted the grass will encourage them to remove it. 

Stray sod: Anyone who steps on a clump of stray sod will instantly become disoriented and lost, even if they’re familiar with where they are. This has led people to wander further away from familiar settings and into danger. In fact, sometimes there’s a group of more dangerous fae waiting around the corner, hoping to snatch up whoever wandered in. Oddly, someone wearing their shirt inside out will not become lost and disoriented upon stepping on the grass.

Trick clover: Those who stumble upon bales of this hay or patches of this grass will find themselves feeling inexplicably lost and terrified. Most get the sense they are being followed, which coincidentally is usually true. The sprites and gnomes who plant these variations of hay do enjoy watching humans running scared around mazes. If they understood or cared for the Halloween and fall spirit, they’d probably say they were helping. Every so often, strange symbols in the form of crop circles will appear in the hay. The most popular rumor is that Bigfeet made them by running through the trick clover. The more likely story is some fae just wanted to contribute to the chaos and terror. While it is difficult to fight the intense sense of dread that comes with trick clover, the effects seem to wear off when someone offers their left shoe to the straw.

Beach haze: Anywhere there’s humans interrupting nature, there’s a trickster fae looking to add some chaos to their day. Beach haze allows many fae to just do that. This large variation of fae grass looks much like the tropical palm trees that scatter some of the world’s best location destinations. Any person who finds themselves napping or lounging under beach haze will find themselves feeling completely at ease, so much so that they fall into a very deep sleep. A nap on the beach seems harmless enough, but those under the effects of the haze will find themselves unable to wake up so easily. Whether it’s high tide or karkaskuttle snack time, there’s no waking up from a beach haze nap unless someone makes a deal or trade with the fae who planted this grass. They will eventually wake up if away from the beach haze long enough, but in a pinch, that’s a long way to carry a friend!

#monsters #magical #meadows #farmland #hungry grass #stray sod #trick clover #beach haze #fae grass #fae monster #plant or fungus

[spiced-wine-fic]

“She said: "I was scared when she laughed. When she laughed, I don't think I've words in the English language for it. I had never heard someone laugh like that. I knew something something was really wrong. I just got this really bad feeling that things were not going to end well for me if I didn't do something. 

"I wasn't scared until then. When she laughed, I knew something was very wrong. A lot of people have said that it was a 'stray sod'. I always just thought they were nice stories. I love that collectively as a nation we often acknowledge it as a thing. I don't know where all the extra steps on my Fitbit came from. I was surprised by the amount of people that it had happened to.” “We may not believe but we still don't ever want to run the risk. I think I just got unlucky. I've been in those woods before. People were saying that the two trees on the path were a portal. I've no massive opinion but something really weird happened. We do so many things on a daily basis instinctively. There are open fields but every so often there will be a ring of trees in the middle of a field. They will plough around them. Even with our modern farming equipment, they still plough around those trees."

#ireland #stepping on the stray sod #faeries #tales for the dark half of the year

[diejager]

GIRLLLL THAT BROTHER!GHOST X LIL SISTER!READER IS SO YUMMYYY😻😻

You already know imma ask for more👀 but i’ll let you surprise me, you can write whatever as long as Ghost is readers brother and i mean WHATEVER

you never disappoint youre gonna eat up every time u write 🤞🏻🤞🏻

You’re giving me FAR too much credit here 😳

Protect Cw: physical abuse, drunk/high, mention of child abuse, tell me if I missed any.

“The fucks your problem?!”

Ghost stood between you and the man, his chest pushed out and shoulders braced to seem bigger, wider than he already was —a tactic to scare off the man who dared to put his hand on you

“You are my fucking problem,” Ghost spat, eyes narrowed and lips pulled into a deep scowl underneath his balaclava, his warm brow turned cold as I hell had frozen over with he coldest winter ever.

You let out a shuddered breath, cheek pulsing with stinging pain from being struck. You clung to Ghost, fingers digging into the soft and old texture of his hoodie, you hid behind him, his broad shoulder and wide stance protected you from the vile bastard’s view. You had one too many drinks, losing yourself somewhere around the last few pints and suddenly finding yourself in a dark corner of the street fighting off a man who didn’t understand that a no meant a hard no.

You were lucky Simon had found you before he took it a step further, mind too drunk and body too sluggish to lift a hand and defend yourself. He might’ve heard your yelp and cry for him, whimpering out his name for help when you help your swollen cheek and bleeding lip. He rushed to your side without a second thought, pushing the man away from you with a hard shove.

“Find your own bitch!” The man smelled drunk, the pungent odour of booze blowing off of him in waves and his eyes dilated with a slurred speech but erratic and unpredictable mind, he wasn’t only drunk, he was probably high as well, “I was here first!”

“She’s not an object, you fucking bloke,” Ghost hissed, fist closing tightly with little self-control left to stop himself from decking the bastard for calling you a bitch, his sweet, precious sister being touched by a man like him. “When she says no, it bloody means no.”

Ghost took a step forward, his hulking figure seeming bigger than nature in the darkness of the alley, glaring down at the high and drunk man that dared to approach you. Even with an inebriated conscience, he knew when he was outmatched, yelping and backing away in fright, eyes wide and brows risen high.

“Sod off,” he sent him a curt nod, his chin pointing outwards, down to the alley’s entrance.

Once the man was off, stumbling away and tripping on air, Simon turned to you, arms pulling you to his chest, cradling your pained cheeks and trembling body. You shook, tremor wreaking your body as you whispered his name, body and mind still numb from being hit, it reminded you of before, when you were still a kid, hiding behind Simon for protection against you father.

He whispered sweet, comforting words, calling your name in the softest tone he had, featherlight and loving, hand climbing to wipe away the stray tears from your cheeks and made you look at him, into his calm and warm eyes. They were the warmest chocolate brown you ever knew, the right shade that made you melt in his arms, tuning out the world for him, the man who’s protected you all your life.

“There you go,” he mumbled, a smile stretching the corners of his lips, his eyes crinkling and eyes gleam confidently when you gave him a gentle nod, tentatively smiling back at him, “That’s the (Name) I know.”

“It hurts, Si,” you pouted, one hand holding his against your cheek, the one left untouched from the man.

“I know, I know,” he cooed, bowing to press a kiss on your nose, unwilling to let you go. “Let’s get you home and treated, yeah?”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots

#x reader #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #mw2 ghost #ghost #mw2 ghost x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #ghost simon riley #simon riley #Big brother!ghost #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley fanfic #cod simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #mw2 x reader #mw2 x you

[l0vegl0wsinthedark]

Zoom In.

Muggle AU, professor of 18C literature and poetry Draco, celebrity Harry ✨️

~

Violet was the first to log in - again. In the minutes before class began - in the "waiting room" - while she stared at her blank screen, it felt like the only real few moments she truly had to herself.

She spent all those moments, like so many others, thinking about Professor Malfoy.

To every single straight girl, and the singular gay guy, in class, Professor Malfoy was prime wank material. Violet hadn't known her classmates to be as desperate for a good word on their assignments from any other professor. To think homework would feature so high on the to-do lists of some of the biggest lunkheads she knew...there was definitely something about him, that Professor Malfoy.

She could see the appeal. The eerily pale eyes, hair, and skin made to appear warmer by the fluffy jumpers - all in elegant shades of scarlet, burgundy, emerald, wine, golden yellow - he wore over crisply ironed button-downs and tailored trousers; the way he used his hands when he talked, long fingers like a pianist's; the slim golden spectacles he was constantly misplacing on his own head, the rich precision with which he pronounced the olde names and subjects that he spoke of - it was very difficult not to admire Professor Malfoy.

All of that, but nobody really knew much about him outside of uni.

They'd switched to virtual classes a week ago; hurrah for the new pandemic. The idea that she didn't have to sit in class with her tittering classmates, a stray cough sounding now and again, made Violet automatically sit up straighter and smile, just as the little boxes on her screen began popping into life.

"Aaaayyyy!"

"Tell me we don't need to have our faces on display."

"So, yes, before anyone asks: this is a real lip ring. An actual piercing. Yeah, I'm not blowing you, Greg, sod off."

"Is Professor Malfoy on?"

"No, I don't see him here yet. Did he grade your essay?"

"Yo, can someone please tell me how to turn this camera off, I am smashed out my--"

"Click on the camera icon, Bryan--"

"It's not even noon, what d'you mean "smashed"?

"No, you've turned off your mic. No, we cannot hear you screaming."

"First icon on the bottom left," Violet said, rolling her eyes.

And then Professor Malfoy was in class.

There was a beat of silence before everyone called out greetings, a chaotic round of cheerful hello's that nobody could quite make sense of. Least of all Professor Malfoy.

He was peering into his screen, his slim nose scrunched.

"All right, so I can see me. Can you?"

Cacophonic confirmations.

"Okay, so nobody can see or hear me. Right."

More shrill reassurances. One loud beer-belch.

"Damn it all to hell, I knew this would happen, I told him that I'll need--"

"We can see you!" shrieked Preiti.

"We can hear you!" Nora bellowed.

But Professor Malfoy was already twisting around in his chair, scowling heavily, and screaming, "OY! COME IN HERE, YOU MISERABLE WANKER!"

Violet, along with her classmates, just stared in mystified silence. The professor never spoke like that. He ticked them off if they did.

A tall figure in a too big hoodie appeared suddenly, hissing back at Professor Malfoy. There was a golden lion printed on the maroon jacket. The hood was drawn in close, and Violet could just barely make out the light from the computer screen glinting off a pair of round glasses, on which a shaggy fringe of dark hair fell.

"You need to turn the volume up. Git," said the stranger. "Your camera's already on."

"I hate technology," Professor Malfoy seethed.

"You hate so much else. I'm getting fish and chips." The man was already walking off.

"I want mushy peas too, with mine."

"What kind of sick bastard." The room door was shut with a thud.

"Sorry about all that. We are now officially in session," Professor Malfoy said, smiling and restoring his glasses upon his nose. "Do you all have--?"

There was a muffled shout from somewhere behind the professor. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Professor Malfoy called back, "No. No, I don't want a curry dipping sauce."

There was more muffled yelling.

"Harry, get out right now!" shrieked Professor Malfoy, and Violet, along with the others, just ogled.

Malfoy sighed. "Sorry 'bout that. Just my idiot husband."

"You're married?!" Violet had asked before she could stop herself.

Professor Malfoy sighed, flipping open a thick, spiral bound folder. "Yes. You've heard of Harry Potter, I'm sure. He's the poor idiot I married."

#my writing #drarry #professor malfoy

[thetarttfuldickhead]

He hasn’t heard much from his dad in the past year, but two goals for England and the texts start coming again.

---

He blocks his dad’s number, once, twice, another fucking time, but his father keeps getting new numbers or borrowing his mates’ phones or something and the messages keep coming.

He gives up on blocking them. What’s the fucking point?

He tries not to read the texts. He doesn’t always succeed, and he knows what they say anyway.

---

As the second game against City gets nearer the texts get longer and more frequent and nastier. Insistent. Calls too now, at all hours.

For a while, he can ignore it. Things are good. Called up for England, did well, Richmond is playing better than ever, he’s playing better than ever, there’s Roy and Keeley and the team, and Jamie’s feeling good.

But that’s the thing, isn’t it? Life can’t get too good, because when it does his dad will always come sniffing around, mean old stray looking for juiciest pieces of meat to sink his teeth into, always snapping, snapping, growling, biting, and this ain’t the sort of dog you can jut put down, is it?

Only way to keep it at bay is to never have anything it wants.

But fuck that, because Jamie’s worked fucking hard for this, his life, he’s fought for everything he has and he’s not going to let some nasty old sod ruin it for him or take it away.

So he ignores it, texts and calls and everything, and for a while he can.

---

In the end, it’s not even something in particular that gets to him. No escalation, no sudden appearance of James Tartt in the flesh, no broken beer bottles conspiciously dropped outside his door. In the end, it’s just coming back from his early morning session with Roy to another four missed calls and three drunken voice messages, and just like that, he’s done.  

He comes to practice wrapped in barbed wire, donning the old attitude like armour, and if asked he couldn’t even tell you why. Just seems easier, somehow.

---

They all see right through him, and he doesn’t know how to feel about that. Terrified. Stupid. Grateful. Known.

Cared for.

Roy still makes him run an extra ten laps after practice for being an arsehole to everyone instead of telling someone what was going on like you fucking should have, but then he squeezes his shoulder and brings him home to Keeley and makes them dinner while she helps him change his number and make sure everyone who needs to has the new one.

---

“We’ve spoken to City,” Ms. Welton – Rebecca – tells him. “They’ve agreed to ban Mr. Tartt from the premises for our upcoming game.”

The relief is a surprise; the intensity of it. He hadn’t realized until now how much the notion of his father being there had messed with him; his father, watching him, screaming, the sound of his name in that hateful mouth. Only now, when the threat is gone, does he recognize the severity of it.

---

When they news break they’re already on the way to Manchester. Colin is the first to notice and he curses softly and calls for Jamie and tells Isaac and then the whole coach knows.

The Sun: “Star Striker’s Dad Banned from City Game.”

And that’s his dad feigning a look of gentle devastation and it’s all about how Jamie’s money and fame has gone to his head, how he can’t even let his dad watch the game because he’s embarrassed of his humble beginnings, right shame, isn’t it, when people forget where they came from as soon as they make it big? Walked out on City after everything they put into him, didn’t he, and now he’s cutting ties with his family too just ‘cause they’re poor and not educated like, what sort of dickhead does that? “Kid’s turned his back on his roots, thinks he’s too good for us now.”

Manchester City declines to comment, other than to confirm that yes, at the request of AFC Richmond Mr. James Tartt will be prevented from attending the match. Nothing else they can say, really, not without revealing things that aren’t theirs to reveal.

The coach goes quiet, the way the dressing room had done at Wembley last year. Then they rally, anger and encouragements and just ignore it, man and it feels good and it makes him want to hide. He has no fucking idea what to say to them, except yeah, no, it’s some bullshit, yeah.

Ted and Beard huddle together, whispering furiously. Roy’s typing away at his phone, looking especially like he wants to murder someone. 

Sam, next to him, doesn’t say anything at all at first, just gives him a small nod. A few minutes later he offers, “My dad says to tell you good luck with the game, you’ll do great.”

And he should feel pathetic for finding comfort in that, maybe, but he doesn’t, much.

The game starts in a few hours. Long enough for everyone to have seen it by then, not long enough to put together a coherent response.

---

The boos and angry noise of the crowd is a furious buzzing in his ears and he squares his shoulders and eyes on the ball and the match is what fucking matters, everything else is just poopy, stupid fucking shit, doesn’t matter—

He plays like he means to outplay the devil himself. Plays like it would have been easy, had old Nick cared to show up.

The booing never stops, not even when Pep makes a point of coming over to him for a quick cuddle and few encouraging words after the final whistle.            

---

And they’re back in the dressing room after and the press is clamouring for a conference just a few doors down and Keeley’s driven all the way up from London and they’re all talking strategies and damage control and spinning the narrative and it’s doing his head in. All of them blabbering on and on and on and—

“Can we just tell them the fucking truth?”

That shuts them up. They all stare at him. Higgins is the first to speak. “Do you – do you want to do that?”

No, he doesn’t say. Of course I don’t wanna fucking do that. 

But the thing is, everyone that matters already knows, don’t they? So what’s the difference, really, with telling the whole fucking world?

It’s a huge fucking difference, something in him whispers.

He closes his eyes for a moment. Opens them again. All right. “Just think it’s the best thing to do, yeah?”

And there’s murmurs of agreement and Keeley’s looking at him like maybe she wants to cry and he can’t look at her looking like that so he looks away.

Roy catches his eyes. “You want me there with you?”

And yeah, he does want that and he’s too exhausted to pretend otherwise. “Yeah,” he says. “Thanks.”

---

“Are you ashamed of your father, Jamie?”

A moment, then, when it’s still not too late. He can still change his mind. He can still lie. No one has to know: he can still be the untouchable Jamie Tartt, confident and arrogant and never ever a victim.  

Fuck that.

“Yeah. I am.”

---

There’s no avoiding the snippets afterwards because they are fucking everywhere but he never watches the whole thing and so he’s not entirely clear on what he really says. Bits and pieces stay with him, though:  

“If I’d told ‘em here at City, my coaches and stuff, they’d have helped. I know they would have. But I was too fucking ashamed, yeah, so I never told anyone and I went off to do this stupid reality show instead and I did a whole bunch of stupid shit just ‘cause I was scared about people finding out about me and my dad. Never wanted anyone to know any of that shit.”

And:

“And I know, right, that there are people who’ll say I shouldn’t be in football if I can’t take a hit, like what the fuck am I gonna do when I’m tackled on the pitch and stuff. But that’s different, yeah? I fucking signed up for that. Didn’t sign up for my dad being a huge fucking dickhead, did I?”

And:

“I’m done being ashamed.”

---

There’s Roy too, near the end, and something about making it seem like aggression and violence is a normal thing and how that is part of the problem and how he’s going to do better from now on, and Jamie wants to tell him that, no, Roy has never been the problem, Jamie ain’t ever been scared of him, that’s really not it at all, but Roy does have a point too, doesn’t he, so Jamie keeps quiet.

---

“Was it all right?” he asks, afterwards, when the door’s closed to the press room and it’s just him and Roy and Keeley in the corridor.

“It was great,” Keeley tells him, stepping close to wrap her arms around him. “It was perfect.” Leaning back a little, she runs a hand over his cheek, “I’m really proud of you, Jamie.”

“Yeah, me too,” Roy says and his hug is just half a thing, one arm wrapped around Jamie’s shoulders and pulling him close, but it’s enough to relax into, to rest in.

Keeley’s looking at both of them like they hung the fucking stars.

“How about dinner?” she asks. “Don’t wanna drive all the way back tonight, think I’ll just get a hotel.”

“Yeah, I’m fucking starving,” Roy says.

And okay. He can’t be disappointed about that. Of course they’d want some time together. “Yeah, okay, yeah. Should be heading for the coach anyway. You have fun, yeah?”

The look they exchange is dismayed.

“No,” Roy says, sounding like he’s trying very hard not to sound angry. “You’re coming to dinner with us. Keeley will drive us back in the morning.”

“Unless you’d rather go back now with the rest of the team,” Keeley quickly adds, shooting Roy a pointed glare.

And oh. Okay. “No, yeah, dinner sounds good.”

---

They make him go say goodbye to the lads first, let them know you’re all right, and it’s still with him when they head out into the Manchester night, Colin’s arms around him and Sam’s quiet smile and Dani’s hands on his shoulders and Isaac’s muttered you’re gonna be okay, bruv.

He carries all of it with him, and it makes him feel light.

---

Coda:

“So, Roy,” Ted asks, leaning back into his office chair. ”Got any big plans for the break?”

“Keeley and I are trying for Marbella again. Only two weeks, she can’t be away from the firm any longer. Jamie’s joining us after he’s done with that football camp thing for disadvantaged kids.”

#jamie tartt #roy/keeley/jamie #pre-relationship #james tartt #fic #post 3x10 #ted lasso #so what if i just poured all the self-indulgent fantasies my musings on the next ep has inspired into one fic hmmm #my stuff

[hellshire-harlot]

Can’t stop thinking about Childhood Best Friend!Simon Riley. So here.

TW: Mentions of bullying, based heavily off my own childhood, Reader is GN and a child (and presumably American), Fluff and a sprinkle of angst, Autistic!Reader, Simon’s backstory

You meet him when your locker is placed next to his in the second grade. He’s a scraggly little kid, quiet with studious, curious eyes. He doesn’t talk much, like you. You like him almost immediately. Then he opens his mouth, telling the boys who always pick on you to ‘sod off’. He has a funny accent, and you like it.

His name is Simon, which you think is a pretty name. And like all childhood friendships, the bond is as strong as it was quickly sealed. When your teacher calls all of you to the carpet for a lecture or a lesson, you and him always sit together, criss-cross-applesauce like you’re supposed to. When you get fidgety, you bump your knees against each other’s, a silent little language only the two of you know.

Where once both you and him were very quiet, together, you come out of your shells. As much as your teacher likes seeing the two of you blossom, she does have to remind you not to chat during class when there’s work to be done. But it’s hard! You’ve never connected with someone like you have with Simon.

At lunch, you both sit together, always. Usually you sit in a quieter part of the cafeteria, at the end of the long tables where few people sit. During lunch he tells you about his brother, Tommy, and you think he talks so much to distract you from the fact that he has precious little to eat. You don’t like how little he eats, so you parcel out portions of your own (admittedly meager) lunch for him. He insists you don’t have to, but you insist that you do, because that’s what friends are for! He likes being your friend. From that day forward his stomach rumbles a little less each day.

At recess you and him play the wildest games, either just the two of you or with another group of kids. After all, the playground is the neutral ground- all rivalries, all bullying stops the second the recess bell rings and everyone steps out into the mulch. He’s really fast, and a little too strong for his age and size, and you think maybe sometimes he lets you win. Never once do you stray too far from one another; you and him both silently fear that leaving even once will reveal that the other is merely an illusion.

You think differently than most other kids. Simon does too, and in that you find kinship. When numbers jumble in your head, he helps you, solving problems with ease, and when he struggles to get through his writing assignments you guide him through each paragraph. Art class is a favorite you share. Watercolors stain your little fingers, and a dot of pink paint remains on your nose from when he dabbed just a bit on the tip. Together, you make works of art that your teacher is left in awe of.

Where once classes were an endless boring struggle, time passes in a golden, hazy bliss with him at your side. He has the same mind as you, something you’ve never encountered, and it’s magical. Suddenly all the bullies, the cruel kids and the indifferent teachers, cease to matter, because you have the bestest friend in the whole wide world. He takes the bus home, and you get picked up by a parent each afternoon, and every time you have to part for the day you hug and promise to bring him something nice to eat for lunch tomorrow. From the car window, your parent watches on, thrilled that their child has made such a wondrous friend.

Weeks turn into months turn into years. Simon cries when you make him a Christmas gift in class, you hug him so tight he can barely breathe when he leaves a Valentine’s gift in your locker, the only one to do so. You beg your teachers and parents to keep putting you in the same class as him, and blessedly, they allow it. From second to third to fourth grade things remain the same. It’s hard sometimes, but Simon is going through the same things. It’s nice not to be alone, and even when everyone else turns against you, he stays by your side.

It’s in fifth grade that you both finally convince your parents to have him over for a night or two. And when Simon comes to your house, your parents go a little quiet. You don’t know why- yeah, he’s a little scrawny and thin for his age, and he gets banged up sometimes, but who doesn’t? You’re too young, too sweet, to know the truth behind the visible ribs and the endless bruises and scars on your friend’s body. But your parents are keen, and when they realize the extent of Simon’s situation, they know they have to do something.

The next morning, your dad cooks a huge breakfast for all of you, and Simon is thrilled to be eating so much delicious food! Your parents, though worried and protective, are utterly enchanted by your friend. They make sure to keep you and him occupied over the weekend while they do what they need to do. Neither you nor him overhear the endless calls they make in adjacent rooms to various services. The final straw is when you accidentally knock something onto the kitchen floor, and Simon panics. When your parents come in to see if you’re alright, he puts himself in front of you and orders them in a voice far too mature to leave you alone. As if they’d do anything to you, as if they’d hurt you. As if he needed to protect you.

That night, you and him share a sleeping bag because he has nightmares about snakes and men in skull masks. You give him one of your stuffies to hold. Deep into the night, two people, skittish and dirty and scared, are welcomed into your house.

Simon’s mom and little Tommy.

Through the school’s counselor your parents got ahold of Simon’s mother, telling her to pack what she could and come to your home, where she and Tommy would be safe. Simon is both confused and happy to see his family at the table for breakfast the next morning, and you’re thrilled to meet his family. But the talk around the grownup table is all serious, and so you and Simon and Tommy are left in another room to play.

In the afternoon CPS comes knocking, to interview Simon and his mom. They look him over, jot down his address, and leave, and only a few hours later they call your parents again to inform you all that Simon’s dad has been arrested. He’ll never touch Simon or Tommy again.

After that, things are kind of a blur. Simon’s mom gets full custody when his dad gets life in prison for his crimes, which you learn more about as you grow older. When the house next door to yours opens up, you help the Rileys purchase it, and the fence between your adjacent lawns gets taken down. More years pass, as you and Simon and Tommy grow up all together.

Some things get worse over time, but Simon is there. Always. And he’s not going anywhere.

#simon ghost riley #Simon Riley #cod ghost #call of duty #cod x reader #Ghost X Reader #Simon ghost Riley x reader #Simon Riley x Reader #Fluff #kid fic #I feel like if I had grown up alongside him I would have turned out better. #I think we would have been friends. I think that would have been lovely. #From the desk of Lovelace #my writing

[partnerlesspansexual]

Art block

(Hobie Brown x GN!Artist!Reader)

(Synopsis: Art block is a bitch)

It's a pleasant evening on Earth-138, East London to be specific. The sky is clear, the air is crisp, and Spiderpunk (or Hobie Brown as you know him) is returning to his flat after a long day of spidey-work. It's certainly been a busy day to say the least, and all Hobie wants to do is strip off his suit, slip into something more comfortable (or not slip into anything at all if you're lucky, *wink,wink*), and chillax with his baby.

The moment he steps foot into your shared flat, however, his spidey-senses can tell that the vibes are off. Way off. He pulls off his mask, setting his beautiful wicks free from their spandex prison, and looks around the living room in an attempt to locate you. But after a few moments, he gives up and decides to call out to you instead.

"Y/N! Where are you, love?"

He yells, his rich voice echoing through the flat. A moment of silence passes, and Hobie's about to call out to you again, but before he does, he hears a long, pained groan come from your study. He puzzles as to what the matter is, before wandering over to your current location, wondering what on earth he's going to see when he opens the door.

But, like the gentleman he is, he knocks on the door to make sure he doesn't startle you.

"*knock,knock* Babes? You alright in there? Can I pop in"

He asks, genuine concern in his voice. You offer a half arsed

"Yeah"

In response. He slowly opens the door to see you sat in your office, face down on your desk, paint smeared all over your hands (with some having made its way into your hair), with the main light off and the little lamp on your desk acting as your only source of light; the mug and plate on your windowsill giving Hobie the impression that you have in fact been in here all day. To get a better look at you, he flicks the main light on, to which you respond by covering your face with your hands and whining.

"Hobie! Turn that sodding light off, it's too bright!"

You groan in displeasure as Hobie chuckles at your dramatic overreaction. He walks up behind you and gently places his rough, calloused hands on your soft shoulders, gently massaging them in an attempt to calm your scrambled brain. Your tense shoulders noticeably lower as you welcome his gentle touch, relaxing into his loving hands.

"What's the matter, love? Talk to me, ey?"

Hobie speaks softly into your ear as he gently strokes your hair. You slowly lift your head to reveal your paint splattered face, your eyebags having noticeably darkened.

"Before you say anything, I'm fully aware of how atrocious I look"

You chuckle at yourself before massaging your temple with your fingers, trying to ease the tension. Hobie's expression softens and he crouches down next to and brushes a stray strand of hair out of your face, before gently kissing your cheek.

"What's up, babes? Tell spidey-man what the problem is?"

Your cheeks flush a warm shade of pink as a smile widens across your face, loving every second you're with this wonderful man. Then you sigh and manage to explain the reason for your frustration and exhaustion in two simple words.

"Art block"

Hobie sighs in relief, glad to know that nothing too serious has happened. This isn't the first time you've encountered art block (and it certainly won't be the last), so Hobie knows how frustrating this can be for you.

"I'm sorry, babes. I know you hate it when this happens. What is it that you've been trying to draw anyw-"

Hobie peeks over your shoulder and is able to see what you've been creating all day. Numerous paintings and drawings of him are strewn across your desk, entire sheets of paper that you've dedicated to things as little as getting the tone of his skin just right, refusing to settle for anything but perfection.

"Oh, love. These are bloody gorgeous! I'm quite flattered"

He coos, his cheeks flushing a dark shade of red as he gives your shoulders a gentle, but affirming squeeze. You cover your face with your hands to hide your embarrassment.

"But they're not perfect"

You respond, your voice muffled by your hands. Hobie rolls his eyes at your response, takes your hands in his and slowly removes them from your face before bringing his face closer to yours, your noses barely touching as he locks his soulful brown eyes onto yours.

"Neither am I. But you love me just the same anyway, right?"

He asks genuinely. You rest your forehead against his, taking pleasure in the warmth that radiates from his skin.

"Of course"

You say softly as Hobie cups your face with his hands. You lean into them, reveling in the safety and security you feel whenever you're together.

"Then love your art the same way you love me. Can you do that for me, babes?"

You sigh and close your eyes, before opening them and smiling softly.

"I'll try, love. I promise"

(I genuinely have art block right now (and a cold) and it's making me want to curl up into a ball and die)

#hobie brown x gn!reader #hobie brown x reader #gn reader #atsv #atsv hobie #artist reader

[airborneice]

they live in my mind rent free

#why did i ignore my s3 art and all the other stuff i wanna draw to do this. send help #anyway i love these funky lil guys #and they seem p rare like how often do they even find other ones ??? #i just want stray sod to have a buddy he deserves it 😭 #the closest i'll ever get to having a straight ship #hilda the series #hilda netflix #hilda season 3 #hilda s3 spoilers #hilda spoilers #art tag #btw since my boy doesnt have a canon name in my art folder the file is just called sods. just thought i'd mention that bsgdhksvdkhg

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Special Interest 5

Warnings: non/dubcon, age gap, creep behaviour, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Cole Turner, short!reader

Part of the Bookstore AU

Note: this one is a bit longer than I anticipated!

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

“Hmm, I don’t know Camila,” Cole picks out the washer, “I don’t think this will fix the problem. Sounds like a different issue than the pipe.”

“Yes, well, my husband said to get this,” she ho-hums, “thanks so much for helping me find this.”

“No problem,” He grins, his baby blue eyes deceivingly bright, “I know this place pretty well. We order most things in bulk but you can’t wait weeks when it’s an emergency. Especially with farmwork.”

“Oh my, you are so responsible. It’s just you and your parents on the farm?” She flutters her lashes. Maybe your dad should be concerned.

You stand off to the side, staring down toilet seats as they chatter. Neither of them have stopped and you’re not bothered fading into the background. Hell, you prefer they forget you entirely. You look down at the cactus in your hand, you could just sneak off with this new prickly friend.

“Yeah. Sister comes to visit but someone needed to stay behind. There’s too much work for just my dad and we never recovered fully from the recession. Can’t really afford a hand.” Cole explains.

“Aw, oh, how dreadful,” your mother gestures like a melancholy Victorian widow. “I’m sure your parents appreciate how helpful you are…”

You don’t miss her eyes as they stray in your direction. You give a scowl, you’re helpful. You take the garbage out and do the dishes. Hell, you’re the only reason the toaster works again.

“Yeah well, I know when I was younger, they probably didn’t feel the same. You know, you just gotta get perspective and learn what’s important.”

Okay, this is ridiculous. They are drinking the same flavorade and you’re more of a cream soda girl. You peer around evasively.

“Well, mom, you got the washer thingy, we should get going. Dad’ll be waiting,” you say.

“I suppose you’re right. Oh, and we still have to hit Eddie’s for dinner,” she recalls, “hm, what a long day it’s been.”

“Eddie's? Oh, I know that place. Owner’s a buddy of mine. I could probably get you a deal.”

“We’re good,” you insist as you step forward, “we got our cactus and our thingamajig. We can pay for dinner.”

“Honey, he’s just being nice,” your mother reproaches, “it is so sweet of you, Cole, but it would be a bit much.”

“You know, that’s a good idea. I should head down that way too,” Cole swiftly diverts her denial, “mom and dad love a good kebab. I always try to bring ‘em something when I come to town.”

“Oh, my heart,” your mother squees, “you are such a good son.”

You clear your throat. Your mother gives you a look. Cole glances over, his head tilted victoriously. He’s effectively making you look like a real bum and you just made a couple hundred.

“Look, I can tell you two are in a hurry,” he shifts suddenly, reaching under his jacket, “I’ll give you my card. I’m down at the market three times a week. If you need any tips about the cactus or maybe looking for a buddy for it, you can always call.”

“Wow, thank you, Cole,” your mom accepts with a fawning gaze, “oh, honey, you hold onto this,” she waves the card in your direction, “I’ll just lose it.”

You reluctantly step closer and take the card. More like rip it up. You pinch it between your knuckles and retreat. Again, Cole peeks over at you.

“I gotta go grab that sod,” he leans back on his heel, “see ya around… I hope.”

“You too, sweetie,” your mom preens.

He backs up, his eyes flitting between you and your mom. He gives you a smile and slowly turns on his heel. He struts away with a bit of a hop, almost as if he’s nervous. You scoff and shake your head. What a show.

“He is so nice!” Your mother announces shrilly, “oh my, and so handsome. And tall and dreamy. His eyes, god those eyes.”

“Mom, you’re married. You know, to dad?” You roll your eyes.

“Oh, hush, I saw you looking at him and he was looking at you,” she fans herself, “you would make the cutest babies.”

“God, ew, another word and you're getting the cactus,” you warn.

“What? You too would be adorable and I can tell, he’s single. He didn’t mention a wife or anything. And a farm? You’d be set for life, and your kids could run all around–”

“He’s a stranger and you’re talking about babies,” you sneer, “please, before I throw up.”

“That whole hard to get thing, it doesn’t work, honey,” she chides.

“I’m not– I don’t want him to get me. I’d prefer I never see him again. Ever. Forever.”

She giggles, “don’t be so dramatic. What did he do to you? He was perfectly sweet. Good manners. Good posture…”

“Really mom, should I be concerned for your marriage,” you snort.

“If only. I think I’m a bit too old for him,” she mourns with a swoon.

“If we don’t get something to eat soon, I’m going to lose my appetite,” you stick your tongue out.

“You are a brat. I’m your mother, you know?” You set off down the aisle next to her as she finally abandons the plumbing shelf. “Why can’t you be like Cole. Such a good boy.”

“Oh my god! Mom, you don’t know him. How do you even know he told the truth? What if there is no farm?”

“You don’t know him either, do you? So maybe, before you assume the worst, you should give him a chance.”

“A chance?” You puff out, “never. He’s an order number, nothing else. And old.”

Your mom tisks and turns towards checkout. You avoid looking at her as her disappointment radiates off her. She wiggles the washer in her hand.

“Where’s that card, I’ll put it in my purse.”

“Ugh, take it,” you flick it at her, “I was just gonna dump it in the trash.”

“Why, with how prickly you are, we shouldn’t need any more cactuses,” she chides.

#cole turner #dark cole turner #dark!cole turner #cole turner x reader #drabble #series #special interest #ghosted #au #bookstore au

[aanoia]

Idk if you have anything like this planned but can you do a Christmas one with like a reader who kinda has a toxic family but always goes home. But this year Remus and her are together and he tells her it’s okay if they don’t go home and they end up having their own cute little Christmas just the two of them or maybe with friends up to you! Thank you 💕💕💕💕

𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒆 - don't need them

Remus Lupin x reader day nine of christmas advent calendar words; 814 warnings; none really uhm I'm really sorry this is out later than usual and it's kinda bad. i'm really really sorry

I stared intently at the empty trunk sitting on the floor in front of my bed. The open latch seemed to mock me, laughing at the fact that I dread simply going to my own home.  I glanced at my bedside table and smiled gently at the picture of Remus and I kissing. I picked up the picture and caressed the glass, the memory replaying through my head. 

A soft knock on the door caught my attention and I wiped the stray tear from my cheek. 

“Come in.” I said and the door opened. “Remus?”

He smiled, “Hey, love.”

“How did you get up here?”

He sighed as he sat next to me on the bed and placed a long kiss on my cheek, “I don’t want to do anything, I just want to be with my girlfriend before we have to part for Christmas.”

I looked to the floor, “Yeah, I guess.”

Remus wrapped his arm around my shoulders, “Hey, are you okay?”

I shrugged, “I don’t know.”

He got on his knees in front of me and grabbed my hands, “Hey, what is it? You can talk to me.”

I avoided eye contact, “I just don’t wanna go home.”

“Do you want to stay here together instead?” He asked, squeezing my hands.

“No, you should go home to your family.”

“Y/n, you are my family. We can stay here together and have our own little Christmas. Sirius and James are staying, too. It can be a friend's Christmas.” Remus suggested and I smiled, another tear falling from my eyes. He softly wiped it off with the pad of his thumb.

“Really?”  I asked.

“Really.”

“Okay, have a safe flight, bud.” I said softly to my owl after tying the letter to its leg. I pet its head gently and it cooed before taking flight. I sighed and made my way down the stairs, ignoring the chill of the snow falling onto my skin. 

I made my way into the Great Hall and paused at the emptiness. I gazed around, the only table completely full being the teachers table. A few small groups of students sat at the tables, but nowhere near 

“Oi! You gonna come over here and eat or just stand there and gawk?” A voice called out and my eyes locked with Sirius’. I rolled my eyes as Remus smacked his arm.

“I will hex you, Black.” I threatened with a smile as I sat across from him.

“You won’t.”

James laughed, “She definitely will.”

“How are you?” Remus asked and I smiled as I grabbed some eggs.

“I’m alright. I just sent a letter to my parents telling them that we wanted to have a friend's Christmas.”

“We should get a tree for the common room.” Sirius said.

“There’s already a tree.” Peter mentioned, looking up from his book. 

“But we can get another one.” James said, nodding to Sirius. 

I laughed, “Okay, you two do that. I need to go Christmas shopping.”

It was dark when my eyes opened Christmas morning. Excitement filled my body and I shook Remus’ body awake. He groaned and threw his arm over his eyes, turning over. I smiled and leaned over to place a kiss on his cheek.

“It’s Christmas.” I whispered and a figure shot up from the bed next to Remus’.

“It’s Christmas!” Sirius yelled and shot out of bed to jump on top of James. 

James groaned and pushed him to the floor, “Sod off, you arse.”

Peter laughed as he slipped on his slippers, “Come on, Santa came.”

“We aren’t five, Wormtail, Santa doesn’t exist.” Remus said as he sat up, his arm wrapped around my waist.

“Who’s Santa?” Sirius asked and I furrowed my brows.

“You don’t know who Santa is?”

“Have you met my parents?”

“Uh, thankfully no.”

“I don’t know who Santa is either.” James said and I sighed.

“Purebloods.” I said, putting on my slippers as Sirius and James ran out of the room. The rest of us followed after them, and I laughed at the happy squeals coming from Sirius and James.

“You guys sound like children.” Remus commented with a smile.

Sirius stuck out his tongue, “We are.”

“Okay, I get to give people their presents.” James said and Sirius scoffed.

“Nuh uh, that’s my job.” 

“No.”

“Mhm.”

“Okay, shut up. I’m doing it.”

I raised my eyebrows, “Wow, Peter. I pick you.”

“Why do you get to pick?” Sirius asked.

I smiled, “Because I’m magical.”

James rolled his eyes, “Technically we’re all magical.”

“You’re just jealous she picked me.” Peter stuck out his tongue.

I sat next to Remus on the couch and smiled as they bickered. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and placed a kiss on my temple.

“Thank you.” I told him and he nodded.

“I love you.”

I cuddled into his side, “I love you.”

my masterlist

If you'd like to be added to my main or christmas taglist comment or DM me!

christmas taglist; @loving-and-dreaming @1lellykins @poetrypirate @ashisabitgay @kodiskisses @whitemanswh0r3 @ultraoreoqueen @miss-mercuryy @peanutbutterinacup @r-scneptune @pheonixfucu @slay345-7 @luannemaru @jluvsjpotts @its-a-ittle-bit-cold @maraudersgirlie @thescarletredwitch @irjdujsksjahhbs @irjdujsksjahhbs @1-800-ididurmum @jennasco @myradiaz @chellyrps @lixiefelicis @ittybittyhogan @lollloki @dreamingofmarauders @everybodyhatesari @agy-mari @wayytoocooll @notaboutlovebyfiona @harrington-potter @little-bubba @mblacksworld @optirizzprime @whoreforlupin @0-cherries-0 @itsjustpoppy-blog @jdoshalablab-blog @mybelovedneilperry @gublers-gf @bellathethirstybitch @poetrynerdsunite @talesof-old

#aanoia #romance #marauders era #the marauders #marauders #harry potter #sirius black #remus lupin #james & peter & remus & sirius #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #james potter

[zestydoesthings]

Portabella, my stray sod for this month’s #zestycreaturefest

I felt like crafting instead of just drawing this month and it was so fun!

Where would you take Portabella if you were looking after her for the weekend? ☘️🌱✨

#character design #mythical creature #fantasy #plantcore #clay sculpting

[itsthebeastpeddler]

I got a wild email a few weeks ago- these three beasties ended up in a charity shop in Mold, Wales! Someone who volunteers there tracked me down for more information on them. I made these dudes back in 2017!! I found the original etsy listings for the stray sod and mandrake. The mothman was a custom and has skull face paint.

They're listed on ebay: Stray Sod, Mandrake, Mothman. The charity shop benefits Save the Children.

If you're in the UK and are sick of me not shipping there, this may be your chance to bring home a lil beast! There is international shipping too :)

#the beast peddler #plush #art doll #artists on tumblr #gardenfolk

[drarryspecificrecs]

2023.05 ~ Top 7 longest fics posted on AO3

1. Demons Run (When A Good Man Goes To War) by @shewhomustnotbenamed [E, 124k]

►I need your help. Ordinarily, I wouldn't inveigle anyone into deciphering life from my contorted perspective, but I desperately need you to understand the entirety of the situation that I've found myself in. It's vital that you comprehend and embrace the events that have led me here- to have the clarity of mind that I lack because I am more lost than I have ever been, and I need saving. I need you to see. I need perspicuity. Help me, because I don't know how I got here, and I need to repair the damage I've done.

2. Symptom of Your Touch by @ghostofnoir [E, 115k]

►St. Mungo's Healer Draco Malfoy is used to being pushed to his limits when providing aide to the ailing, but when an unexpected encounter with an out of character Harry Potter throws his life out of balance one night, he is forced to ask himself how far he's willing to push his own levels of discomfort to be of aid to a man in need of help that only he can provide. And once that need for aid is over, how will he find balance in his life again?

3. Love lies somewhere deeper by DarkWizard [M, 96k]

►Harry cheated on his wife with Draco sodding Malfoy. And then, he didn't remember it.

4. we should just kiss (like real people do) by whenstheweddingcake [T, 75k, series]

►Harry's summer is better than ever before, and he returns to Hogwarts for his fifth year with more power, changing relationships, an army at his back, and another DADA teacher that seems to have it out for him.

5. the world is a garden (and you're my flower) by Rosie321go [T, 52k]

►Draco’s mother always said there was a fine line between love and hate. Apparently, his flowers think so too. /// [...] in which Draco doesn’t know how to deal with feelings, Granger doesn’t know how to help him, and Potter’s just trying to figure out what’s going on.

6. Icarus by @soupy-george [M, 50k]

►[...] 2013 (The Unpleasant Present) - Sent undercover as a Professor at Hogwarts. Note: minding my own business, life ruined by dreadful turn of events. Note: Potter is DADA professor, a job he took out of the blue after I graduated from Auror training. His departure happened to coincide with a momentary lapse in judgement when we may have kissed, drunkenly … (and heatedly) against a wall. One time. Awkward? Yes. Reason to abandon whole career? Apparently.

7. Imperius by Jelliebabie [E, 46k]

►What if there was an eighth horcrux? What if Voldemort just wouldn't die? Draco Malfoy doesn't remember what came before his current existence, where he lives to serve the Death Eaters who control his every move, and through him, his magical inheritance. But when a memory from his past appears in his present, breaking the curse that imprisons him, he finds that he may be the one who holds the key to salvation. If only he isn't too broken to use it.

—

※ Word count: 1k ~ 10k

※ Word count: 10k ~ 40k

the first in line by @oflights [E, 29k]

Harry and Draco's Hogwarts Reunion by DarkPhoenixAscending [E, 13k]

Harry Potter and the Yuletide Potion by Grace_28 [G, 13k]

Just A Couple Of Strays by flowerpotboy [M, 20k]

love-stained hate by a_blur_on_the_highway [T, 18k]

Shades of Passion by CosmicallyFamous [E, 12k]

A Strange Twist of Fate by @shinigami714 [E, 18k]

Turn Back the Clock by @steampunkserpent27 [T, 14k]

—

Ongoing Fest/Exchange

※ Fics would be listed elsewhere.

Basilisks & Staircases - A Game of Drarry Fest | @gameofdrarry

HD Mpreg 2023 | @harrydracompreg

Lights Camera Drarry 2023 | @lcdrarry

#drarry #drarry fanfic #drarry fic rec #harry potter #draco malfoy #monthly review #2023

[corruflood]

Choking (On Grave Dirt)

Revived GN!Darling x Necromancer M!Yandere x Knight M!Yandere x King M!Yandere

Summary: You were murdered years ago, soul never put to rest waiting for retribution that will never come. That is until a necromancer finds your body, chaos, love and obsession ensues.

TW / CW: Gore, Death, Blood

If you want to use the idea -> TERMS OF USE [basically tag me so I can read it and if your okay with it I'd love to add the link to this post! Also have fun and change whatever you want to]

Up to chap 5 complete will be finishing soon.

------ Plot outline ------

ೃ⁀➷ 01 : REVIVED

Dead, buried and suffering. Soul slamming into the dirt above over and over again clawing and begging for some sort or reprieve.

You died unjustly and painful, phantom pains of death ricochet against the confines of your nearly faded spirit.

Magic courses through the ground similar to lightning in water, scouring the earth in search of something, panic and delirium threatening to fracture your remains you desperately cling onto a stray bolt tugging it towards you.

Buck was anti - social. He didn't like talking to anyone and became uncomfortable around any living sentient thing.

It's why he chose to become a necromancer most undead were barely coherent and just did what he said. It was perfect well it was until he needed help with something that needs more of a delicate touch.

Honestly it was just his luck that the new tome he found specified a sentient, coherent person with the ability to memorize and adjust according to the spell itself. He hated chaos magic almost as much as he loved it.

It's why he's trudging through the forest resource gathering so he didn't have to go out and find a poor sod with okay ish understanding of magic to drag back to his home and force to do a powerful and deadly ritual because that would be so fucking easy.

What he didn't expect to find was something latching onto his magic like a lifeline, following the pull lead him to a patch of vibrant flowers and moss, the feeling of dread curls around Bucks spine a tell tale of a body near by. A body underneath his feet.

Well if he had to choose between a desperate soon-to-be revenant and talking to a person well he might of been too eager in the resurrection process.

You didn't need to breathe anymore, being dead does that to a person if only your body understood that, instead it insists on heaving on dirt and worms.

There's a man passed out beside you, all choppy hair and the beginning of scruff on his chin, he's passed out, brows furrowed. You can smell the magic on him were it pools in his skin and how it stretches still beyond him. Apart of you wanders if that's normal to just know when magic is afoot. The other apart of you groans at what must be done. He saved you after all.

ೃ⁀➷ 02 : WHAT ARE YOU REALLY?

Darling drags Buck back to his cove in the mountain, they found it by following the magic back. Darling can't remember anything except that they died and it hurt beyond death.

Darling takes care of Buck for days and cleans the place up a bit, they go hunting at some point and find themselves dangerously well acquainted with a bow and arrow, the weight of a dagger firm on their side a comfort with a fuzzy memory.

Buck wakes up in a panic and tries to attack Darling who finds themselves dodging before their brain catches up with it. Darling explains that they are the one that took care of him after he was passed out for atleast 7 moons.

Buck is shocked downright flabbergasted at the situation. A dead with no memories and a level of humanity he's never seen before and him passing out and slipping into an impromptu coma for over a week as his body tried to fix himself.

Expirements and research is in order immediately, Buck throws out boundaries and anxiousness. Darling is a shiny new thing and he needs to understand it as soon as possible.

Another week goes by Buck wrotes down everything, they try a few things out making Darling do exercises, math, poetry eventually they try magic and it's stunning.

It flows from his darlings arms in crashing waves breaking on shorelines. He doesn't even realize when he started considering Darling his.

Another week passes Darling remembers faint things, while eating they get a memory of a dining hall, they hear faint laughter some times. There's a whole life just underneath the surface and Darling wants to know who they were.

Buck isn't as happy about it. He starts keeping Darling closer and closer, a hand always resting on them, grabbing them to cuddle, relishing in the fact that no one is around and it's just them away from everyone. This is good this is great! There's a knock on the door. This is bad.

ೃ⁀➷ 03 : COMFORT ZONES.

Regretfully opening the door stands none other than Kures one of the knights of King Likin both of which unfortunalty call Buck a friend. He doesn't mind them. He likes them far more than any other people but this is his place and his darling is right there and this is really annoying until the glass shatters.

"Y/n?" The knight speaks almost afraid they would dissappear if he blinks.

"Kures?" Darling asks confused, pain tinged their face as much as shock does, despite knowing the knights name it seems they can't remember anything else.

This is troubling.

Kures rushes inside and everything is explained, MC can't remember shit, Kures came because Buck missed a meet up explains MC went missing years ago, MC still looked pretty much exactly the same as the last day he saw them.

Kures talks about life before. Buck continues to get more upset by the end of the convo Buck is practically wrapped around MC extremely displeased.

They talk and chat for a long time and settle on a plan to make there way into the castle so more people can figure out what is happening. Buck attempts to deny everything but Darling is barreling through. They want to know what happened.

Buck and MC pack and MC promises it will be okay and makes sure to stay close to Buck.

They travel a week together comradery pulling them all into a tight knit group and as they make it into a town MC finds out first hand how much Buck doesn't play nice with anyone else.

ೃ⁀➷ 04 : A LITTLE MURDER BETWEEN FRIENDS

One of the staff at the inn tries to flirt with you laughing it off and head to bed, I'm the morning you here some of the other staff complain about him bunking work again.

A stall owner berates you after you bump into there crate, later in the day Kures comes to you with a couple of (insert thing that was in the crate)

Both Buck and Kures barely leave your side at least one of them is on you at all times, it's usually you and Buck in the inn room as you wait til dusk to head onwards, being subtle is key here.

You brush off the clinginess as nerves of being around people, Buck is severely anti social and Kures is a knight who is tasked in getting people back alive it's not his fault for being overly cautious.

Except the edge never dwindles ever when you all are way out of town with no one able to touch you, they stick as close as they physically can, Buck always has a hand on you, Kures is within touching distance more likely to follow you around than direct contact.

It leaves you on edge but it's fine, there nice and Buck helped you. He saved you and Kures someone you regretfully don't remember but most definelty know is risking everything to help you. You can only imagine how much it would tank reputation if they knew to be helping a random undead because that's what you were now and it's painfully obvious in the right light. So you stay close for them.

As soon as you cross the cities borders, memories twirl and spin out of reach. Your from here, not born but defiantly spent most of your life. Your feet unconciously carry you to a small bakery. The owner looks like theve seen a ghost before giving you the biggest hug.

It's the same story. Fine one day. Missing the next.

Mc thanks them and leaves with a fresh loaf of bread.

ೃ⁀➷ 05 : A KING AND HIS MEN

pending...

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x gn reader #gn reader #reader #plot outline