#potionpainter

[theoblivionbrothers-archive]

“Mm..” From painter ;D to haddy

Send “Mm..” and my muse will react to yours kissing their neck.

Hadleigh murmured softly as he felt the familiar gentle tickle of lips at the curve of his neck. He leaned back, giving Painter better access to whatever spots he so chose.

“Heading to bed?” he asked, reaching up to run his fingers through Painter’s many countless braids as he knew he liked. He set down his book, not bothering to mark the page. He would know where to continue from when he came back to it, and to anyone else all of the pages would have just appeared totally blank anyway.

“Want me to join you?”

[theoblivionbrothers-archive]

Ship meme: Painter and haddy

Send me a ship, and I’ll reply with:

Who would throw the other in the pool: Hadleigh, though he’d be “subtle” about it.

Who is the better carer when the other is sick: Hadleigh doesn’t really get sick anymore, so he kind of takes it by default. Painter was very good about it when Hadleigh was still human.

Who would force the other to do extreme sports with them: Neither, although I imagine they both get up to some pretty crazy shit regardless.

Who would cook the better romantic dinner: They both have their moments, but Hadleigh would definitely go the extra mile-- like time travelling to gather recipes or ingredients.

Who would build the blanket fort in the living room: Oh man, definitely Painter. All of that excess creative energy has to go somewhere.

Who would have the best holiday ideas: Both of them have some pretty ridiculous awesome ideas.

Who would need to clean out the other’s stuff to make room for their own: Neither. Painter definitely has more ‘stuff’ in general, and Hadleigh is very minimalist in just about everything.

[theoblivionbrothers-archive]

"Dad. Dad. Dad. Dad. Daddy. Dad. Daddyyyy." The small child whined, peering over the desk. She blew a few curls out of her eyes as she tried to see what Hadleigh was working. "Daddddd. Uncle Tommy an' Aunt Chell are causin' wha' Dad calls 'shenanigans'. He's not here so... Just wanted t' tell you cause there's some things that are smolderin' an really shouldn't."

Send me Anons as my muse’s child(ren).

“Is that so?”

Although it was the same set of words that most people would use to address a child they weren’t really listening to, Hadleigh sounded perfectly interested in what his daughter had to say. Of course, he was much less concerned with what Tommy and Michelle were doing than Painter might be, but for the sake of his lover’s sanity (and the sake of the furniture), it was probably best he intervene before Painter got home.

“Well, let’s go take care of that, shall we?” He rose from his desk and reached down, picking his daughter up and sitting her on his arm as he carried her out to the living room.

[theoblivionbrothers-archive]

❁ Painter gets sick ;D

Send me one prompt:

❁ in which our muses have to deal with a fever

“Leave it to you to get sick before me.”

Tommy laughed as he put his hand to Painter’s forehead, trying to judge the severity of the fever he’d been afflicted with. He had turned it into a joke, but that was broken up by the fact that he was wearing a paper face mask. Tommy had always been particularly sickly, and he didn’t feel like taking any chances.

“Do you need anything? Juice, maybe?” He ran his hand over Painter’s hair. “Your wish is my command.”

[theoblivionbrothers-archive]

"Will you marry me?" painter asks this quietly, almost inaudible.

Send me "Will you marry me?" and I'll generate a number from 1-30 to see how my muse responds.

“You’re supposed to get down on one knee when you ask a question like that, you know.”

He might have been joking, but the dumb grin on his face was entirely genuine.

[theoblivionbrothers-archive]

"Smooch" from painter, for the eldest of the brothers.

Send “Smooch” for a reaction from my muse when yours give them a kiss on the lips.

“And what did I do to earn that?” His hands went automatically to Painter’s waist as he tilted his head down, his gaze settling somewhere along Painter’s collarbone.

“And what, pray tell, can I do to earn it again?”

[theoblivionbrothers-archive]

◕‿◕ and throw in an ear nibble from painter

Send ◕‿◕ to play with my muse’s hair

Tommy couldn’t help but giggle, vaguely swatting at Painter.

“S-stooop it!” he exclaimed, his giggling intensifying. “That tickles, you big oaf. You’d better not--”

He couldn’t get the last part out before another ear nibble sent him into another fit of giggling. Such was Tommy’s life now, it seemed.

[theoblivionbrothers-archive]

☩ Painter traced a finger over the scar on Hadleigh's shoulder, gentle, before moving onto the long column of his spine before letting his hands trace out over the too thin ribs.

Send a “☩” for My Muse’s reaction to Your’s running their fingers along a Scar a on My Muse’s Body

Hadleigh, for a moment, stopped breathing. Every muscle in his body tensed up briefly before he relaxed them, by sheer willpower alone. The scar on his shoulder was an old one-- a very old one, in fact, having been there since he was just a child of no more than 8 years old.

Sometimes he still felt the heat of the red-hot iron pressing into his skin as he was marked as property, in his less lucid moments. At least the nightmares had stopped. One of his favourite things about not needing to sleep anymore.

He relaxed even further as Painter’s attention moved on, those long fingers tracing other worrisome aspects of his physical appearance-- the ridges of his spine that were too defined to be comfortable, the bumps of ribs that always drove Michelle to try and force feed him.

It was.. comforting. In its own way.