#naessas

[mooncoveys]

naessas replied to your post:BREAKING NEWS:

…why must there always be bs? sigh

sigh indeed, yazzy

[mooncoveys]

naessas replied to your post “naessas replied to your post “taylor are you still into peaky...”

yes good, come join me in pb trash hell (read: grace and tommy trash hell) kthxbye

i’m so happy!!!!! i’ve been in trash hell since season one tbh, yazzy but this has probably led me further down

[mooncoveys]

naessas replied to your post “taylor are you still into peaky blinders because i just watched...”

my lips are sealed i promise

i just watched it and i’m dead

[mooncoveys]

taylor are you still into peaky blinders because i just watched episode 1 of season 3 and it was a lot

YES but i haven’t watched it yet i’m kinda scared but don’t tell me anything omg i’ve been lowkey freaking out all day

[mooncoveys]

RULES: tag the person who tagged you and let them know you finished. answer the questions and then tag 20 5 people to let them know they are tagged. i got tagged by @maxonschreves​, thank you!

how tall are you? 5′1 what style and color is your hair? right now it’s red and it’s a little past my shoulders what color are your eyes?   hazel/green do you wear glasses or contacts? neither what is your fashion style? i have no idea probably preppy when were you born? june 28, 1996 how old are you? 19 where are you from and where do you live now? maine and i still live in maine do you have siblings, what are their names?  one brother, one sister what school/college do you attend? i don’t what kind of student are you? i was pretty average you like school? i did yeah what are/were your best subjects? history and english what are your favorite shows? that 70s show, friends, gilmore girls, outlander what are your favorite movies? star wars, pirates of the caribbean, pride and prejudice what are your favorite books? harry potter, esperanza rising, the great gatsby, pride and prejudice, macbeth favorite pastime? reading, panicking about the future do you have any regrets? so many what is your dream job? librarian or something with books, idk would you like to have kids someday? maybe are you a regular girl or a girly girl? .... are ‘girly girls’ not ‘regular’? what? do you like shopping? yes what is the scariest nightmare you’ve ever had? idk, but lately i’ve been having dreams where i get stabbed and no one does anything so have enemies? probably not who are your friends? my best friend since 7th grade, sarah, and...... yeah pretty much it since high school put your phone on shuffle and write whatever first 10 songs, no skipping! sail - awolnation, welcome to new york - taylor swift, temporary bliss - the cab, what the water gave me - florence and the machine, butterflies - zendaya, why’d you only call me when you’re high? - arctic monkeys, everybody wants to rule the world - lorde, heart out - the 1975, not your fault - awolnation, i wanna be yours - arctic monkeys

i’m tagging: @unseeliequeens, @naessas, @shelley-obrien, @mmarymorstan, @alexisreallycute

[cedarmoons]

@naessas​ prompted: dust motes + linctavia

Octavia thinks the man’s face might have been white, once, before the world exploded. 

Now, it is cracked, gray with age and green with moss. Half of his left shoe is missing, and his right hand no longer has a pinky. The man stares down at the forest floor, blank eyes unseeing and jaw set in determination. Most of his beard is worn away, and the columns his hands had gripped are either fallen across his foot or in pieces.

Octavia presses a hand against the stone. It is cool, despite the summer heat. “This is the man you were named after?” she asks, not turning her head. There’s something somber in the man’s gaze, something worn in the sallow cut of his cheekbones.

“A. Lincoln,” Lincoln replies. When she turns, he sits upon the ground, legs stretched out and sketchbook in his lap. He does not look up as he speaks. “We’ll never know what the A stood for, so my parents settled with Lincoln. There was a wall, once, with words on it, but erosion made them unreadable. All that’s left is this.”

Octavia hums, turning back to the statue. There had never been an A. Lincoln in any of Bellamy’s histories, (and if there had, the mention had been so small Octavia’d forgotten it) and now she itches to know what this man had done to deserve a statue.

She pulls her hand from the stone, and her palm returns covered in dust. She wipes it on her jeans and turns to Lincoln, crossing their distance and sitting beside him. The steady scratch of his charcoal against paper does not falter.

Good. She’d wondered why he’d wanted to come here, on a rare day off from Camp Jaha’s never ending workload. But she understands, now. With only the quiet of the forest, the birdsong, and the man’s somber gaze on them, the woods are... rather peaceful.

She closes her eyes as she leans her head against his shoulder. “You think they’ll make statues of us one day?”

Lincoln’s laugh is more of a huff of his shoulders than anything else. “Trikru won’t,” he says. “If we find stone we can carve, we’re using it for houses, not statues.”

She tweaks a spot between his ribs. He pauses his sketch of a bluebird and turns to her. “But we have time,” he says, softly. He drops his charcoal onto the grass and tucks her hair behind her ear.

“The Skaikru might make one for Clarke, if nothing else,” Octavia says. Clarke Griffin still hasn’t returned in the four months that have passed, and this Pike grows more and more virulent with every passing day.

No wonder Lincoln had wanted a getaway day.

She regards him out of the corner of her eye. “You think they’d include your neck tattoo on your statue?”

Lincoln half-smiles, and he shuts his book. He is the one who tweaks the space between her upper ribs, this time, and she twists away, laughing. He follows her, pulling her close and peppering kisses down her neck.

Octavia sighs, tilting her head back, hands going to cover his on instinct. She turns her head

The walkie talkie buzzes, and they jump at the sound. “Octavia?” Monty asks. “You there?”

Octavia pulls away from Lincoln and takes the walkie. “Yeah, Monty, what’s up?”

“Is Lincoln with — nevermind, of course he’s with you. Bell wants you to make some runs. Break time’s over.” For his part, he sounds apologetic.

Octavia stands up and walks toward the statue. “Yeah, just tell us what we need to do.”

As Monty details their next task, she swipes a finger down the base of A. Lincoln’s calf, watching the dust of buried history swirl into the air. Gray flecks float through the air, illuminated by the sunlight.

They’re pretty, but unimportant. It’s the present that matters, not nostalgic wishes for the past. The present has always mattered, more than past or future. Octavia looks past the dust and sees Lincoln, waiting for her, his eyes soft around the corners and his mouth quirked into a smile.

“What?” she asks.

He only shakes his head, still smiling, and he glances down at the leather-bound book in his hands. He has that look that means he’s going to draw something later.

When the dust motes are no longer visible, she reaches for Lincoln, and they start the long trek back to Camp Jaha hand-in-hand.

[unseeliequeens]

trembling hands

what is this?? 100% fluff for my children??? you bet it is

prompt me (prompts)

“I’ve got you,” he tells her.

Octavia’s eyes are wide with trepidation.

“He won’t hurt you,” Lincoln assures her, giving her asmile. She offers a tiny smile in return, but it is strained, and her gaze isstill locked on the beast in front of her. Lincoln pats the gelding’s flank.

“He’s so… big,” she says, quietly. “I—what if I fall?”

Lincoln’s smile widens, and he lifts a hand to cup her face, his thumb brushing across her cheekbone. “I won’t let that happen.”

Her hand rises, clasping his wrist, and she closes her eyes,leaning into his touch. Today holds a rare moment of peace, and Lincoln wantsto take every advantage of it while they still have time.

“Have you told Bellamy and the guards about what we’redoing?” he asks. She nods, opening her eyes. She has a scar on her foreheadnow, a leftover from a practice fight that hadn’t quite healed. Lincoln’s handtightens in her hair for a moment and he leans forward, kissing the sliver ofupraised skin.

Octavia lifts her chin, rolling onto her tiptoes, andLincoln smiles as he kisses her properly. She holds his wrists like they’redelicate, breakable things, but kisses him with the same determination thatpowers her through her sparring sessions.

The gelding huffs behind them, and his tail swats at Lincoln’sback. Lincoln’s laugh breaks their kiss, and Octavia smiles as she steps away. “Okay,”she says, taking a deep breath. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“All right. Would you like to try to get on, or would youlike me to pull you up?”

She tries, of course. Lincoln kneels, threading his fingerstogether to give her something to balance on. Her hands shake as she reachesfor the saddle, her fingers gripping the leather and her foot in his hands. “Ready?”he asks. She lets out a shaky breath and nods. Lincoln lifts at the same timeshe pushes off, and Octavia grunts as she swings her leg around and manages toget half her body on the horse.

Lincoln helps her sit up and presses the reins into herhands. “Hold on to those for me,” he says, and she nods, her body stilltrembling. He ensures that she won’t fall, then mounts the gelding as well,settling beside her. He wraps his arms around her and takes the reins. She’s stillshivering, though her jaw is clenched.

“I’ve got you,” he tells her, and she turns her head, brushingher fingers against his jaw.

“I know,” she says, simply, turning back around. “Let’s go.”

Lincoln presses a single kiss to her hair, then readjustshis grip on the reins and urges the horse forward.

[bombxbomb]

Natalia Alianovna Romanova

(thanks to a bit enabling & the cacw trailer, i did a thing)