#Also if any of you have any photos from your own garden of how your own rewilding projects are going please share with me! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

petermorwood · 2 months

Text

More on pre-electricity lighting.

Interesting to see this one pop up again after nearly two years - courtesy of @dduane, too! :->

*****

After experiencing a couple more storm-related power cuts since my original post, as well as a couple of after-dark garden BBQs, I've come to the conclusion that C.J. Cherryh puts far too much emphasis on "how dark things were pre-electric light".

For one thing eyes adjust, dilating in dim light to gather whatever illumination is available. Okay, if there's none, there's none - but if there's some, human eyes can make use of it, some better or just faster than others. They're the ones with "good night vision".

Think, for instance, of how little you can see of your unlit bedroom just after you've turned off the lights, and how much more of it you can see if you wake up a couple of hours later.

There's also that business of feeling your way around, risking breaking your neck etc. People get used to their surroundings and, after a while, can feel their way around a familiar location even in total darkness with a fair amount of confidence.

Problems arise when Things Aren't Where They Should Be (or when New Things Arrive) and is when most trips, stumbles, hacked shins and stubbed toes happen, but usually - Lego bricks and upturned UK plugs aside - non-light domestic navigation is incident-free.

*****

Here are a couple of pics from one of those BBQs: one candle and a firepit early on, then the candle, firepit and an oil lamp much later, all much more obvious than DD's iPad screen.

Though I remain surprised at how well my phonecam was handling this low light, my own unassisted eyes were doing far better. For instance, that area between the table and the firepit wasn't such an impenetrable pool of darkness as it appears in the photo.

I see (hah!) no reason why those same Accustomed Eyes would have any more difficulty with candles or oil lamps as interior lighting, even without the mirrors or reflectors in my previous post.

With those, and with white interior walls, things would be even brighter. There's a reason why so many reconstructed period buildings in Folk Museums etc. are (authentically) whitewashed not just outside but inside as well. It was cheap, had disinfectant qualities, and was a reflective surface. Win, win and win.

*****

All right, there were no switches to turn on a light. But there was no need for what C.J. describes as stumbling about to reach the fire, because there were tinderboxes and, for many centuries before them, flint and steel. Since "firesteels" have been heraldic charges since the 1100s, the actual tool must have been in use for even longer.

Tinderboxes were fire-starter sets with flint, steel and "tinder" all packed into (surprise!) a box. The tinder was easily lit ignition material, often "charcloth", fabric baked in an airtight jar or tin which would now start to glow just from a spark.

They're mentioned in both "The Hobbit" and "The Lord of the Rings". Oddly enough, "Hobbit" mentions matches in a couple of places, but I suspect that's a carry-over from when it was just a children's story, not part of the main Legendarium.

Tinderboxes could be simple, just a basic flint-and-steel kit with some tinder for the sparks to fall on...

...or elaborate like this one, with a fancy striker, charcloth, kindling material and even wooden "spills" (long splinters) to transfer flame to a candle or the kindling...

This tinderbox even doubles as a candlestick, complete with a snuffer which would have been inside along with everything else.

Here's a close-up of the striker box with its inner and outer lids open:

What looks like a short pencil with an eraser is actually the striker. A bit of tinder or charcloth would have been pulled through that small hole in the outer lid, which was then closed.

There was a rough steel surface on the lid, and the striker was scraped along it, like so:

This was done for a TV show or film, so the tinder was probably made more flammable with, possibly, lighter fuel. That would be thoroughly appropriate, since a Zippo or similar lighter works on exactly the same principle.

A real-life version of any tinderbox would usually just produce glowing embers needing blown on to make a flame, which is shown sometimes in movies - especially as a will-it-light-or-won't-it? tension build - but is usually a bit slow and non-visual for screen work.

*****

There were even flintlock tinderboxes which worked with the same mechanism as those on firearms. Here's a pocket version:

Here are a couple of bedside versions, once again complete with a candlestick:

And here are three (for home defence?) with a spotlight candle lantern on one side and a double-trigger pistol on the other.

Pull one trigger to light the candle, pull the other trigger to fire the gun.

What could possibly go wrong? :-P

*****

Those pistol lanterns, magnified by lenses, weren't just to let their owner see what they were shooting at: they would also have dazzled whatever miscreant was sneaking around in the dark, irises dilated to make best use of available glimmer.

Swordsmen both good and bad knew this trick too, and various fight manuals taught how to manage a thumb-shuttered lamp encountered suddenly in a dark alley.

There's a sword-and-lantern combat in the 1973 "Three Musketeers" between Michael York (D'Artagnan) and Christopher Lee (Rochefort), which was a great idea.

Unfortunately it failed in execution because the "Hollywood Darkness" which let viewers see the action, wasn't dark enough to emphasise the hazards / advantages of snapping the lamps open and shut.

This TV screencap (can't get a better one, the DVD won't run in a computer drive) shows what I mean.

In fact, like the photos of the BBQ, this image - and entire fight - looks even brighter through "real eyes" than with the phonecam. Just as there can be too much dark in a night scene, there can also be too much light.

*****

One last thing I found when assembling pics for the post were Folding Candle-lanterns.

They were used from about the mid-1700s to the later 20th century (Swiss Army ca. 1978) as travel accessories and emergency equipment, and IMO - I've Made A Note - they'd fit right into a fantasy world whose tech level was able to make them.

The first and last are reproductions: this one is real, from about 1830.

The clear part was mica - a transparent mineral which can be split into thin flexible sheets - while others use horn / parchment, though both of these are translucent rather than transparent. Regardless, all were far less likely to break than glass.

One or two inner surfaces were usually tin, giving the lantern its own built-in reflector, and tech-level-wise, tin as a shiny or decorative finish has been used since Roman times.

I'm pretty sure that top-of-the-line models could also have been finished with their own matching, maybe even built-in, tinderboxes.

And if real ones didn't, fictional ones certainly could. :->

*****

Yet more period lighting stuff here, including flintlock alarm clocks (!)

#period lighting #tinderbox #too light too dark #social history #writer notes #research #period tech #sword vs lantern #c. j. cherryh

2K notes · View notes

rheya28 · 5 months

Text

The Crown [ Lounge + Bar] ♥ The Sims 4: Speed Build // CC

Welcome to The Crown, a haven of refined indulgence that seamlessly shifts from an upscale morning restaurant and lounge to a sophisticated evening gentlemen's club. In the daylight hours, experience culinary delights in an ambiance of polished dark wood accents, moody lights, and soft jazz.

As the sun sets, The Crown transforms into an intimate and stylish club, where discreet luxury meets thrilling entertainment. With an emphasis on sophistication, The Crown offers an unforgettable fusion of exquisite dining and sensual experiences in an atmosphere of opulence.

Additional Notes: ● In order for the adult club function to work, you must download the wicked whims mod [Download at your own risk]. ● This build does not have to be a club, it can be set as a restaurant, a lounge, or a bar. ● I am not 100% familiar with wicked whims so I will not be answering questions regarding the mod. However, I played around with it and did some playtesting as a club owner and everything is functioning correctly on my end. I advice that you look up tutorials if you're not sure to how this lot type works.

● Please make sure to turn bb.moveobjects on! ● Please DO NOT reupload or claim as your own. ● Feel free to tag me if you are using it, I love seeing my build in other peoples save file ● Feel free to edit/tweak my builds, but please make sure to credit me as the original creator! ● Thank you to all CC Creators ● Please let me know if there's any problem with the build

➽ SPEED BUILD VIDEO

00:00 Beginning 00:02 Intro 1:25 Speed Build 15:52 Photos Sim's Featured in the video are by the talented @rhdweauni0 <3

➽ LOT DETAILS

Lot Name: The Crown Lot type: Gentlemen's Club/Str*p Club [Can be set as a lounge, restaurant or bar] Lot size: 30x30 Location: Windenburg or San MyShuno

➽ MODS

● Tool Mod by Twisted Mexi ● Wicked Whims by Turbodriver [optional: This is only required if you want to set this lot as a club] ● Functional Pool Table by Utopya

➽ CC LIST:

Note: I reuse a lot of the same cc in all my builds, specifically cc's from felixandre, HeyHarrie, Tuds, and Pierisim so if you're interested in downloading past, present, future build from me i suggest getting all their cc sets to make downloading a little easier! other creators include Sooky, Charlypancakes, Sixam, Thecluttercat, Myshunosun, awingedllama, Peacemaker. This will also ensure that the lots are complete and are not missing any items upon downloading ! CharlyPancakes ● Miscellanea [books] ● Soak [ Floor pattern, wall lamp] Amelie ● Vintage Art print #3 Severinka ●Aura Bedroom - Ceiling lamp V01, V03 ● Ceiling lamp Alpha ●Industrial Light II Ceiling B, Ceiling D Sooky ● Dark Academia Victorian Oil Paintings 01 ● Horizontal Oil Painting - landscape ● Horizontal Oil Painting - Still Life ● Vertical Oil Painting - Landscape ● Vertical Oil Painting - Portrait ● Vertical Oil Painting - Still Life The Clutter Cat ● Dandy Diary pt 1, 2 ● Hello Horses FelixAndre ● Chateau [all ] ● Berlin pt 1 ● Colonial pt 2, 3 ● Florence pt 2 ● Gatsby ● Georgian ● Grove [ all ] ● London Interior ● Paris pt 2, 3 ● Soho pt 3 House of Harlix ● Harluxe ● Livin Rum ● Orjanic Harrie ● Brownstone [all] ● Baysic ● Brutalist ● Coastal pt 2, 3, 8 ● Klean pt 3 ● Kwatei ● Octave pt 2 ● Shop the look pt 1, 2 ● Spoons pt 3 ● Jardane Kiwisim4 ● Block house dining [dining chairs] Lilac Creative ● The classic Collection Little Dica ● The even Grander Piano Myshunosun ● Garden Stories [patio lights] ● Lottie [candle] ● Simmify pt 2 [book clutter] Pierisim ● Coldbrew pt 3 ● Combles [chair] ● David Apartment pt 1, 2 ● Domain du close pt 2, 3 ● MCM pt 1, 3 ● Oak House pt 4 ● Tilable ● Winter Garden pt 1, 2 ● Wood Land Ranch pt 3 Plush Pixels ● Parisian Apartment [coffee table only] Simcredible ● Bossa Nova Ceiling lamp Simplistic ● Rusticlife area rug Sixam ● Boho Bathroom [floor tiles] Taurus Design ● Lilith Chilling Areas MycupofCC ● The Modernist [wall lamp] Tuds ● Ind Syboulette ● Ratatouille [Sign ] Utopya ● Pool Table [mod]

● Tray File: Patreon Page ● Origin ID: Applez ● Twitter: Rheya28__ ● Tiktok: Rheya28__ ● Patreon: Rheya28 ● Youtube: Rheya28__

#ts4 #sims 4 #thesims4 #sims #thesims #showusyourbuilds #sims 4 cc #sims 4 screenshots #sims 4 builds #builds #sims 4 build #sims 4 interior #the sims 4 cc build #the sims 4 restaurant #simblr #sims 4 gentlemens club

1K notes · View notes

enwoso · 13 days

Note

Could you do a leah x child!reader?

ADORE YOU — leah williamson x child!reader

navigation

your mummy for the past five months has had a big ouchie on her knee, meaning she had to have a big operation on her knee and has a big white bandage on it for months.

that had meant she couldn't do most of the things she did before her big ouchie. like she couldn't carry you for long periods of time, she couldn't sit down and play with your toys with you without putting her knee up on a bunch of pillows, she couldn't race you up the stairs when it was bath time or bed time and ultimately she couldn't do the one thing you both adored and that was play kick about.

you could still play but it wasn't the same when your mummy was watching from the side, clapping and shouting your praises and you could still watch it with her but it was never the same as actually playing football with your mummy.

the person you adored, and she adored you just a much if not more. it saddened leah when she did go down with her injury, thinking how she was going to come back from this but also how she was going to still be able to be the best possible mum to you.

your sad little smile of understanding replayed in leah’s mind daily — from the day when she told you it would be awhile before she was back playing football. you while clearly upset putting on a brave smile as you vowed to your mummy that you would help in any way you could to help make her big ouchie knee better.

and while there were things that had to be adjusted, like your small games of races up the stairs, or how she read your bedtime story. leah found herself missing the little bond you had both created over football.

it was obvious since the first day that you were going to be a football fan and an every bigger arsenal fan just like your mum, and from the day you first were pulling yourself up on the furniture leah had a ball at your feet.

teaching you everything you knew to this day, while she would love you to be a little footballer like her she also had to remind herself sometimes with the help of her own mum that one day you may not want to do football always letting you try others sports like gymnastics and swimming.

however nothing came close to playing in your back garden, your arsenal jersey with your name on the back, and your boots on passing the ball to your mum while throwing a few tricks in there.

both leah and you were longing for the day that you could play kick about with your mum again, and to you waiting had felt like a few years already.

however the day was closer than you thought.

"hi bug! did you have fun at nursery?" your mum asked as you ran in her arms a huge grin on her face, your backpack swinging from side to side as you held a piece of paper in your hand which was blowing in the wind.

"yes! i drew dis for you!" you smiled, holding up the picture to your mum as she took it off you admiring you little art work as you walked out of the school gates and following your mummy to wherever she had parked her car.

looking at the photo which she guessed was you and her the background coloured green and a football. some of the lines squiggly as you tried to stay within the lines. your name written at the top neatly most likely by one of the staff members in black marker.

"oh this is beautiful bug, i'll put it onto the fridge when we get home yeah?" leah smiled as you nodded waiting for your mum to open the car. her taking your backpack from you and placing it on the backseat before lifting you into your car seat.

"arms up!" your mum sung out as she leaned over to buckle you in, a small giggle coming from you as your mum kissed your temple. leah shutting your door before getting into the drivers seat, and beginning to drive.

you watching out the window at the surrounding, as you chatted away to your mummy about your day. from what you did the moment that leah had dropped you off this morning to moment that you were putting your coat on to leave.

the drive coming to a stop as you looked our the window, the surroundings very familiar as a puzzled look drew across your face. wondering why you were hear as you never came here after nursery.

"why we here?" you asked innocently, the arsenal training ground building standing tall as you looked at it out of your window. a place which you knew so familiarly.

"just got a couple of jobs to do bug, we'll not be here long" your mum smiled, as she got out of the drivers seat to get you. opening your door, your seatbelt was unbuckled as you jumped the small step from the car to the gravelled ground.

"is the girls here?" you asked finding your mums hand her car keys jingling in the other as you walked through the entrance.

“they should be”

walking in and hearing the familiar buzz of laughter and chat filling the hallway many staff members walking up and down, as well as few of your mummy’s teammates present as the two of you got closer to them.

“oh and we have ourselves williamson squared this afternoon!” beth joked as you giggled and leah rolled her eyes at her comment, as you waved at viv and lia who were a sat down a bit further away from where beth was.

“hi beffy” you grinned as the english girl bent down to hug you.

“how is my favourite little williamson?” beth beamed, making sure to exaggerate the favourite part, leah ignoring beth’s attempt to wind her up instead greeting viv and lia.

“good!” you smiled as beth began to ask you about your day at nursery, you telling her ind depth what you did, you little arms flying around as your told her. the english forward bringing you to the table where lia and viv were sat.

your mummy had been sat getting last minute treatment on her knee before the game at the weekend, talking over with physios about if she was able to play and if so how long she could play for.

you had sat content, you had your colouring book and pens which leah kept in her cubby for when she needed them to keep you entertained and when you weren’t colouring you sat cuddling or playing with winnie, beth coming to join in when she had a free couple of minutes.

“c’mon bug!” your mummy called out as she waited holding the door open which lead to the indoor astro, saying a quick bye to winnie, you left her with her toys as you ran towards where you mum was stood waiting.

going under her arm which was holding the door open with and into the indoor astro. “can you go and get me the football that’s over there?” she asked as you nodded rubbing over to fetch the ball as leah placed her keys and phone down at the side.

you running back towards the blonde with the ball at your feet, stopping just a few inches away from your mum. not really knowing what to do next or why you were even on the astro in the first place.

“pass it to me, please” leah smiled as you bent down to pick it up and pass it to her, “no bug, kick it to me”

you shot back up standing straight again, confusion taking over your small facial features, “but- but what about your knee-“ you stuttered a little, a bigger grin appearing on your mums face, your confused frown only deepening.

“it’s okay bug, just go easy on me, yeah?” your mum asked, your face lighting up as you nodded kicking the ball towards her. leah taking a touch or two before passing it back to you.

the process carrying on as you both moved around the astro, playing how you always would before your mummy got an ouchie on her knee. a grin never leaving your face as you played kick about with her. it warming leah’s heart watching your little smile grow with each touch of the ball back to her.

you were both back doing the one thing you adored. with the person you adored with your whole heart.

#leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #woso community #woso #woso blurbs #woso imagine #woso x reader #arsenal women #awfc #arsenal wfc #awfc imagine #awfc x reader #beth mead #viv miedema #lia walti #enwoso

563 notes · View notes

luxurychristmaspudding · 8 days

Text

Weightless | On Call

summary: your curtains are closed, truck silent on the drive. today of all days, you shouldn't be alone.

pairing: neighbour!frankie morales x f!reader

ratings/warnings: 18+, MDNI. dual pov. loooots of angst. active grieving for a dead parent. a very soft frankie. vibes are better in the next chapter lmao.

wc: 2.1k

an: my grandad was a man who loved flowers. today marks seven years since we lost him. he was gentle and kind and so talented.

have some forget me nots, which are in my garden and now also in your hands. for @morallyinept's flora and fauna challenge. for anyone you may also miss <3

When the time came Just like you are He was weightless In my arms

- weightless, elbow

series masterlist | main masterlist

Your house is quiet.

Quiet like Frankie has never heard.

There’s always some kind of noise. A record turning, the hum of your voice. The TV on, windows open to birdsong. But today, there is nothing.

His legs are heavy. Heart heavy, fingers shaking, wrapped around the bag of groceries he’s brought. He’s taken two steps in through your front door, and now he doesn’t know what to do.

He watches the dust motes swim in the sun of your hallway. Shifts on his feet to look through into the living room. You must be upstairs, but to call your name in the silence of the morning feels like too much. Invasive. Cruel.

Instead, he swallows and takes the remaining strides into your kitchen. Breathes in the fresh smell of your plants, the familiarity of your spice rack in the corner, the spread of miscellaneous stuff that he’s rarely seen tidied away. He gently places the bag of groceries on the counter before opening your cupboards for a vase.

Once he finds one, he fills it with water and trims the stems. Forget-me-nots and white carnations. Something simple. Remembrance and love. Bright and pretty. No lilies. They only remind you of the funeral.

He’s biding his time. Trying to tamp down the nerves swirling in his gut, the somersault of his heart in his chest. He knows from the gaps left in his own life that today will be hard. And he wants to make it easier for you. He just hasn't worked out how.

He knows what works for him. The long hikes, the pull of a bottle. In murkier times, many years ago now, the sharp taste of powdered gums. Knows what works for the boys. The days with drawn curtains, video games played in the gloom. Tequila and memories shared across barbeques. Even his parents - honorary pastel de choclo, flicking through photo albums. But for you, he’s not sure.

Once he’s happy with the way the flowers are arranged, he takes off his shoes. He leaves his cap on the counter, and pads up the stairs.

It’s still quiet. You’re not in the bathroom. No reason for you to be in any other of the rooms. He holds his breath and raises his knuckles against the wood of your bedroom door.

He knocks, softly - once. Waits for an answer that doesn’t come, but pushes it open anyway.

‘Bug?’ He says gently into the morning sunlight.

You’re swaddled in bed, still in your pyjamas, eyes red and swollen. You sit up slightly with a watery smile as he edges in, managing a crackled hey, Fish.

A sharp lump rises in Frankie’s throat. Something about seeing you upset has always hurt; the same kind of ache he gets in his chest when Lucia or his mum cries. His eyes flick from yours to your bedside table, to the picture of your father settled on top of it. Frozen in time, his smile is wide - just like yours. Greying hair, a little more chin fat than he would have had as a younger man. A younger you tucked into his side, his arm slung over your shoulders. Your arms around his middle, squeezing, laughing. Fuck.

Frankie’s heart shoots out the bottom of his legs and skids across the floor. He looks you over, and your chin wobbles. Too much. Too vulnerable. The smile drops, your face cracks. Your mouth clamps shut with a snap of teeth, and a fresh wave of tears begins to pour down your cheeks.

Frankie feels his own expression crumble, and he’s at your side before he can even think for his feet to take him there. Perched on your mattress, arms around your shoulders to pull you close. Shushing like the gentle in and out of waves, lips pressed to your hot forehead.

You’re tense, so tense. Breath coming in choked hiccups, shoulders up to your ears. Hands gripping the sheets. There’s another pull in Frankie’s chest.

‘Stop trying not to cry,’ he murmurs, ‘I can feel it.’

You release a ragged breath, a heartbroken cry as you cling to his sleeves. Like you're being ripped apart. Like you're being drowned.

‘I’m sorry,’ you gasp, ‘I’m sorry.’

Frankie shifts you further across the bed so he can fit next to you, shaking his head.

‘Don’t be sorry. Why should you be sorry?’

‘You don’t have to be here,’ you choke, ‘It’s okay. You don’t have to stay.’

Frankie closes his eyes. Leaving you here is the furthest thing from his mind, a notion that wouldn’t even cross it.

‘I want to.’ He says.

You nod, curled tight to him. He can feel dampness seeping through his hoodie, and he sits back against the headboard, cradling you to his chest. His heart is beating so fast. You can hear it, the conch of your ear pressed to the cage of his ribs. You try to focus on it, try to think of nothing else. Try not to think of this day four years ago. The weightless feel of your father in your arms in the last minutes of his life. How you held him when he could hold you no longer.

‘What do you need, baby?’ Frankie asks.

The streams of tears, the bow of your brow, serve to split his heart in two.

‘I don’t know.’ You whisper.

So Frankie holds you closer, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

Unwittingly, he’s answered the question for you. For the last four years, you have needed to be held like this. Needed to be held together by someone who is not yourself, someone who can shoulder the weight of the grief you have carried alone for years, just for a moment.

You lose yourself to it. To the warmth, the smell, the comfort. You let the flood come, you let Frankie rock you. You ask him how Luc is, and he understands the need to hear about life outside this room. So he tells you about her arts and crafts, her newfound dislike of mac and cheese, what she wants for her birthday. The daisy chains she's been making, the sweetpeas they're growing in their garden. And it’s wonderful. It reminds you of the good of the world, that it keeps spinning, that there is love out there even when it feels lost to you.

If there is something out there other than life, you hope your dad is in it. On a deck chair with a beer on the beach, a little basket of fries delivered to him every so often. He’s smiling, laughing. You hope he’s still around, because the idea that he’s not is too big, too great to face. It’s too lonely. Too terrifying to be alone in this world, no anchor, no tether, a family with their backs to you after you’d told them who you loved, too far in the distance to turn back to you with outstretched palms. An ex-fiancee who simply didn’t love you enough.

But he’s here, you feel. Here in this moment, watching from somewhere above. Mixed with the fabric of now like clothes in a washing machine. A spiral of colour and feeling. Pink, purple, blue, green. Love, joy, heartbreak, loss.

Orange. Orange and white is what Frankie can see. The warmth of the sunlight, the pale of your sheets. You’re far away but safe in his arms. He wants you there always. Wants to be wherever you need him.

He thinks of this day in his own life, four years ago. The tiny, warm body of his baby in his arms. Weightless as you are now and yet so heavy, the two of them fighting sleep in a nursery elsewhere in Florida. He can still smell her hair, still hear the way she’d babble, the way she still fit tucked into one arm. He swallows, hard. Holds you tighter still, thumbs rubbing your shoulder, your side. There is so much of his daughter’s life to see. He can’t imagine having it cut short. Can’t imagine knowing it would end soon, counting down the days as his body wasted. The milestones he’d miss, the moments and memories. The stories and people she’d introduce him to. It doesn’t bear thinking about, her out in the wide world without him to guide or protect her. And he knows you’d hate it, but he’s sorry. So sorry that that’s the life you have, that you don’t have him to turn to anymore. And he’s sorry for your dad. For him to have missed who you are now, to miss who you will be.

He presses another kiss to your head, hoping to convey this. This nebulous thought, this strange feeling.

‘He wrote letters for me,’ you whisper into his neck. So quietly, voice strained to breaking as you force the words out. ‘For birthdays. For jobs. For my first home. For my wedding. For a first child.’ You try to smile, but it’s flattened with a broken breath. ‘He thought of everything. And I read them again today - the ones I’m up to - but it’s like - it’s like his voice -’ you cut yourself off, burying your face in your hands as you try to calm down. ‘Sometimes it’s like I can’t hear him properly anymore.’

Frankie strokes the back of your hand, and it drops easily. He holds it in clammy palms.

In the cold days after your dad passed, through numb dissonance you had googled everything to do with grief. The stages, the remedies, the processes. What you forget first.

Voice. There would be a day, before anything else, when you wouldn’t be able to remember how your name sounded spoken by his lips. When you couldn’t remember the texture of I love you spoken in his tongue.

Frankie knows this. He googled it after Colombia, when the weight of every body he’d seen or carried seemed to settle on him. It had comforted him. He didn’t want to remember shouts and screams, couldn’t stomach the memory of Tom’s orders rattling through his brain. But he feels so desperate to take this from you, to retract and hide what you know. So useless in the face of so much hurt, so much loss. Even when he knows the best he can do is sit here in it with you.

You press your free fingertips into your eyes.

‘I’m so scared, Frankie,’ you whisper from behind the dark in your head. ‘I’m so scared I might forget him.’

Frankie’s seen the simplicities of grief before. Knows them intimately. Knows the horror of these realisations, understands as he presses his lips to your hairline and you shake in his arms. He loves you too much to lie.

So instead, he tells you a truth.

‘I’ve got you. I’ve got you.’

When the light turns from golden to white, the sun a little higher in the sky, you disentangle yourself to blow your nose. You manage a laugh as you do it, muttering a bashful ew as Frankie watches you, still stretched out on your mattress. Any other time, and your heart would be hammering in your chest at the sight. But now, it’s all the comfort you need.

He stands, stiff, stretching his arms to the ceiling before gathering you briefly in his arms again.

‘You okay?’ He asks.

‘Better.’ You say, brushing a curl from his forehead.

His eyes are so warm, so gentle.

‘Breakfast?’

You hum, offer him the best smile you can. A sludge of guilt slops in your stomach, but you try to swallow it.

‘Thank you. I’ll be down in a bit.’

When he’s downstairs, listening to the sound of your shower, he unpacks his grocery bag and begins making a stack of pancakes. Blueberry, banana, strawberry, chocolate chip. Syrup enough for you to taste through the salt at the back of your throat. Methodical, mechanical, more focused on listening for your movements through the floors of your house. The shutting off of the water, the soft thunk of your drawers. Your footsteps heavy on the stairs, down the hall. You appear in the doorway, hair washed, eyes red, cosy in sweats and a t-shirt. He smiles at you, and you smile back. It’s small, but it’s a start.

You move closer, and he takes you under his arm as he turns the stove off. You wrap your arms around his middle.

‘Thank you for the flowers,’ you say, quietly. Frankie follows your eyes to the bouquet arranged in the vase. Forget-me-nots, white carnations. ‘Thank you for not getting lilies.’

He smiles, kisses your forehead. Wonders whether he could leave a mark simply from doing it so often, so you’d always feel safe.

‘No problem.’

He guides you towards the table, pulls out the chair and makes sure you’re settled. Makes sure you have your coffee, your pancakes. The smell of the flowers is sweet, something blooming in your stomach. you trace the outline of them before you, the simplicity, the thought. Frankie asks what you want to do for the rest of the day. You deflect the question back at him, and he smiles.

‘Anything.’

‘Anything?’

You raise an eyebrow at his mhm.

‘That’s dangerous.’ You say with a wry smile.

Something in Frankie’s chest lifts. There she is.

Later, when Luc is tucked into your side and you’re tucked into Frankie’s, you’ll wonder how you can ever repay him. The kindness he shows you, the patience.

You only hope that you will, someday. Promise it, head leant against his shoulder.

Even if it takes the rest of your life.

#frankie morales #francisco morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #jettsflora&faunachallenge #pedro pascal fanfiction #fic: on call

180 notes · View notes

headspace-hotel · 2 years

Text

What feels so strange about growing plants, and making friends with plants, and generally being aware of my ecosystem, is that it's not a "head" knowledge, it's a "hands" knowledge.

It feels strange for me, at least. My formative years were spent in a homeschool co-op that was roughly 50% anti-vaxxers, so in spirit, I'm the sort that has yelled "just believe science!" until my throat hurt. I've clung to peer-reviewed papers, as an abstract concept, as the sole beacon of truth in a dark world, and found Facebook groups full of people that thought just like me: if it's not proven, if it's not science, it's false, and science is truth.

There are online communities of people who "believe in science," and t-shirts that affirm the wearer to "believe in science." This is not the worst place you can be, in a world where people believe things like "eating lemons makes your blood more alkaline, which cures cancer" and "polio was renamed to ALS in order to hide the fact that polio vaccines don't work."

However, science is not a doctrine. It's a process. It points to truth, but it doesn't produce truth as an end result. There is no end result. The results are endless, actually.

What word do I use to describe what I've been doing? I'm gardening, sure, but that makes it sound like I do things to plants, when mostly, the plants do things to me. I'm learning about the living things already around me. I've learned to identify so many plants, and I know about what role they serve in the ecosystem.

"Gardening" is a difficult word because it means planting things in the ground and tending to them, but plants plant and tend themselves. So since we have to use the word "gardening," we have to think of plants as either belonging to a garden or not, depending on whether a human put them there. Plants either grow on their own or a human, a "grower," "grows" them. Isn't it weird how that verb is transitive?

However, I understand now that even knowing the name of a plant is, in some way, "gardening" it, because it affects my behavior toward that plant, which is the thing that "gardening" is, just in a different amount.

Humans can transport seeds and plants, supplement nutrients and water, but this is just participation. A gardener doesn't create plants, they help them to grow. So it follows that any act of "helping" is also gardening—thinning out a stand of wild plants, moving a wild plant from one spot to another, choosing not to mow a wild plant down.

I have more of something than I used to. The thing that I have more of now is knowledge, but a lot of this knowledge isn't facts. Ecology is a science. Scientists study ecosystems. It is possible to know facts about ecosystems. But ecosystems are not made of facts.

I know that most people desperately need to know more about the ecosystems around them. They need to know about the plants and trees near them. I think this is literally essential to saving the world as we know it. But they don't need to learn facts—not just facts. They need to learn something Else.

For the past several months, I have been learning things that are not facts. I hesitate to call them skills. But they are like skills. Both gardening and plant identification are impossible to fully teach from a book or a written resource, because you have to know not what something is, but what it is like.

I rely on my senses—feeling the suppleness of a twig, the dampness of potting soil. Identifying plants is so hard starting out because the qualities that identify them best have to be experienced.

Back when I was first learning to identify trees, I discovered that there was a black walnut tree at the end of our road. I was just then entering the extremely frustrating reality of how many plants there are and how few photos of them at all growth stages exist on the internet. I didn't know what a fucking "petiole" was. Leaves all just looked like leaves and I wanted to cry.

But I tore a twig from one of the trees down at the end of the road, and I instantly knew it was a black walnut tree! And I couldn't describe to you how. I caught a whiff of the smell of the crushed leaves, and it pulled up a memory of the walnut trees at the farmhouse when I was a child, dropping their heavy green fruits all over the grass. I'm not even sure how to describe the smell. It's very fresh and spicy, but earthier and less "clear" than the word "fresh" would suggest.

And I identify a lot of plants in ways that you can't just...depict. Alianthus altissima, tree-of-heaven, is hard to draw or photograph in a way that lets you see through the picture what makes it distinctively Alianthus altissima. The best way to identify it is by its odor. Tear off a leafy twig and smell it—it smells exactly like peanut butter and the mustiness of a damp basement.

I am learning things that don't exist in books, that are specific to my immediate surroundings. The specific community of organisms found in my backyard, what they're doing. How my plant and animal neighbors are related, and how their relationships change.

I am learning just how little we know. There are so many plants, so many local plant communities. There are more relationships in an ecosystem than there are scientists that could possibly study them. I look up a question about a particular plant and there's just...nothing.

I have to use my own knowledge, my own observations. I have to do tiny science every day, where Big, Capital S Science can't help me. "Is this non-native plant harmful enough that it is better to get rid of it even if I can't replace it yet, or is it providing enough benefits to other organisms that it is better to let it stay?" Sometimes no website or book or article can answer this. Constantly I encounter this kind of question, and I have to observe and decide myself. I have to trust that I can be taught by my ecosystem, and that this knowledge is, in its own way, valid.

It is uncomfortable to be here. I want to convey my knowledge to others, but it sometimes feels almost pseudoscientific, superstitious. I want to be rational and rely on the experts, and teach other people to do so; I know that what "seems" right often isn't, and that personal observations are flawed, even useless, in many areas. But not only are these fuzzy, instinctual observations sometimes all we have, they are an essential skill that is needed to save our world.

There's also the fact that research doesn't happen fast enough to function all alone as a guide. Invasive species lists on state websites are basically decades out of date and not regionally specific enough. The Callery/Bradford pear tree, bane of my existence, is not "officially" designated an invasive species to my knowledge, and there is relatively little research on its role as an invasive species, but it is declared invasive, primarily by common consensus that it's Satan in tree form. Crowding and shading out other mid-succession shrubs and trees, forming thick, almost monoculture masses of ugly glossy foliage replacing whatever else would have grown there.

And the severe threat of the Bradford pear is specific to my region; its particular severity may be specific down to the square mile of land I live on. Some scientists may be studying it, but they're not studying my state, my county, my neighborhood.

It's insane how many TYPES of forests there are. You would think that within a specific biome and climate, a forest is a forest is a forest, but no. There are a bajillion specific associations of trees with specific relationships that form special ecosystems. It's insane how many types of moth there are, too. And it really blows your mind to look up a moth's host plants and read that we're not really sure of the full range of plants its caterpillars can eat.

You'll be reading something and it will say "We don't know this" but you will know, because you've seen it—and then you think to yourself, well, isn't that what people say about Nessie and Bigfoot and little green aliens? Can we trust what we observe for ourselves? Can we trust people to know what they see?

Maybe not—but we have to.

#learning #trees #plants #ecosystems #native plant gardening #gardening #science #knowledge #questions

2K notes · View notes

blues824 · 6 months

Note

:) ☆I'm backkkkkkkk☆ I cried

I found this photo of our knight kin in my gallery, do with it as you want toooooo!!!! 🥺🤩🤗 Tehehe

He's sooeo sweet hereeehxuhdh Ahahahhahahah

🏃‍♂️ my simp is showing—

I requested: Making Snowmen + Hot chocolate for the cold

A sequel to this fic that I wrote for Sebek. Turns angsty lol.

Sebek Zigvolt

Because he had the entire weekend off, due to you seeking the help of both Lilia and Malleus when your relationship was on the rocks. Saturday came around, and he had fallen asleep and accidentally stayed the night. He was freaking out, worrying that his Housewarden was going to be angry, but you showed him a text from the Vice Housewarden, that said he was given permission to stay over at Ramshackle for the weekend he had off.

That being said, you told him that you were going back into the snow today, and he let out a groan of annoyance. You should know by now that he preferred humid and warm climates, which is why he loved the Botanical Gardens.

But, this was your payback, as he had spent weeks ignoring you and choosing his schoolwork as well as the Prince over you. That last sentiment was understandable, as that was the code of a knight, but the former statement really hurt. It was like he would prioritize anything over you, and while you first excused it as him adjusting to being romantically involved with someone, it got to a point where you were done.

Anyway, you opened the front door, and a rush of cool air burst into the corridor. You heard Sebek shiver, despite being wrapped in many different layers. Grim was also shivering, but he had claimed that he only needed his scarf and gloves to keep warm. You called his bluff, but he stuck to his guns.

When Sebek had finally joined you outside, you immediately shouted, “LET’S BUILD A SNOWMAN!”

You managed to spook him with the sudden outburst, but he immediately started making a plan. He was going to make the base, as he would be able to roll it to the designated spot you made. You would get its midsection, and he would help you lift it up. Then, Grim would make the head out of snow.

And so you all split up. You had to head inside to grab a spare scarf as well as a carrot and buttons, and then you placed them on the ground at said spot. Then you started getting the snowball for the torso.

It didn’t take too long for Sebek to finish, nor did it take long for Grim, but the difference was that Grim found himself rolling as a snowball with the snowball. He was rolling down the hill, and he suddenly hit a rock hidden in the snow, and he was launched into the air. It’s not like he could aim away from you, so he ended up landing on top of you.

With a loud oomph, you landed on the ground, and your boyfriend rushed over to make sure that you were okay. It turns out that you were laughing as you, through giggles, asked if the cat monster was okay. The crocodile half-fae helped you up, checking over you to make sure that you didn’t sustain any serious injuries, and you just continued to make the torso of the snowman.

Eventually, you and Grim rolled your parts to Sebek’s part, and he helped you lift each part. Grim was insistent on lifting his own, so the knight lifted the cat who, in turn, placed the head on top of the snowman.

Now it was time to decorate it, and you grabbed the scarf and wrapped it around the snowman’s neck. Sebek shoved the carrot in the middle of the head, making it its nose. Grim helped with the buttons, and you smiled at the masterpiece. You turned to see your lover, and the tip of his nose as well as the apples of his cheeks were pink.

Maybe it was time to head inside.

~~~~~~~~

You immediately started making some hot chocolate. You didn’t realize how cold you actually were because of how much fun you were having, but you couldn’t feel your fingers or toes. It felt like a Herculean effort to just blink. The aroma of the sweet ingredients wafted through the air, making the dorm smell amazing.

“I’m sorry…” That was a first. You turned to see the man who you’ve called your ‘knight in shining armor’, looking ashamed and guilty.

“For what, Seb?”

“For neglecting you, and that is the best way to say it so don’t say differently. You had to go to Waka-sama and Lilia-sama for Seven’s sakes because I was prioritizing my work over you,” He was getting a bit worked up, angry about his own failure.

“Just admitting your fault is enough-”

“No, it is not. I hurt you, which is detestable for a knight! What can I do to make it up to you?”

A moment passed of him being close to tears, and you had to hold in your laughter. But, you can’t really be blamed. For the longest time, the First Year who was now on his knees, begging for a way to get you to forgive him, had called you a ‘human’ in such a disgusted tone. Maybe the significant other effect is real?

The hot cocoa was finished, and you poured it into two mugs from the pot you made it in. Your smile dropped, a sombre expression appearing on your face in its place.

“Do you have time to have a cup of hot chocolate with me?” You asked, voice very close to breaking. You had to use both hands to steady the mug as you extended it towards him, and his eyes were surprisingly glassy.

“More than enough,” He responded, taking a sip of the sweet drink.

#twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst wonderland #sebek #twst sebek zigvolt #sebek zigvolt x reader #twst sebek #sebek x reader #sebek zigvolt #twst sebek zigvolt x reader #twst sebek x reader #twst angst #twst x reader angst #twisted wonderland angst

179 notes · View notes

adiluv · 11 months

Text

❥ PHOTOGRAPHER + GENERAL HCS. ˚⊹꒷

⚜️୧・꒰word count꒱ 1129.

📕୧・꒰warnings꒱ none!

👑୧・꒰adi moment꒱ unfortunately i am writing for french 'people' now… how sad… /j lol—to be real, though, i’ve actually started playing identity v again and ended up sparking some interest for joseph ꒰netass gave me tranquility, as a treat꒱, so here we are! feel free to send in requests, whether it be for him or other characters! hope you enjoy! ꒰ㅅ´ ˘ `꒱

꒰⚔️꒱・A closed-off aristocrat with a slight tendency for egotism, Joseph is certainly one of the more tedious residents to woo. Congratulations for ꒰somehow꒱ managing to do so! Beneath his haughty and withdrawn persona, he’s an incredibly observant, caring, and loyal individual—and he does his best to make sure that you feel loved whenever he’s by your side.

꒰⚔️꒱・Although I consider him to be far from optimistic, considering everything that’s happened within his pre-manor days, I do still imagine him to be a sort of hopeless romantic. This is a sentiment you’ll become well aware of through the many dates that he plans for the both of you—whether they be candlelit dinners, strolls in the garden, or something else. These dates do occasionally go astray due to the ever growing amount of inhabitants sharing the space, though he does his best to keep/get things back on track. Please reassure him if things get a bit too hectic—he’s very much prone to panicking.

꒰⚔️꒱・As a man of the arts, you’re quick to become his new muse. He loves taking photos of you at any and every moment he can, regardless of how mundane it is. Depending on your own sentiments of the matter, this could potentially be a root of disagreements—especially considering that the camera seems to follow him every time you’re together. Similarly, he’s a big fan of painting you, originally using the photos he took of you as references, though he quickly abandons them once he gets the hang of things—he’s a fast learner when it comes to you.

꒰⚔️꒱・Of course, though, he values your happiness far more than his desire to preserve you, and he’ll try to stop taking so many photos of you if you ever express discomfort. ꒰Of course, the keyword here is ‘try’.꒱ He slips up on occasion, so please try to be patient with him—it’s his way of showing love, and he tends to get a little over dramatic at times.

꒰⚔️꒱・Joseph is also a rather clingy type of lover, and jealousy is ever quick to sink its fangs into him. The fear of losing you, whether it be physically or emotionally, is relentless in haunting him once you start dating. Even so, it isn’t something he vocalizes often, due to his fears of being considered as weak. Whether it be him hovering close to you whenever you’re too close to another survivor, or the way that he subtly begs you not to leave his side, it is something that you come to notice.

꒰⚔️꒱・Ignore his signs of jealousy, and you might just find that other survivor being targeted during matches—but he’ll ꒰reluctantly꒱ catch himself if you call him out on it. Afterwards, he’ll just resort to being a pouty mess around you, though some extra affection is quick to restore his good mood. You might even catch the Joseph Desaulniers apologizing to the other survivor afterwards—though you’d best bet that he’s swearing them to secrecy. It’s embarrassing, truly! You know nobles like him are meant to be composed at all times..!

꒰⚔️꒱・When it comes to facing you in matches, well… It really does depend. His most common strategies include going friendly for your entire team ꒰and spending the time by your side꒱ or simply avoiding you until everybody else has been chaired and he can give you dungeon. However, there are times that he’ll have to go full swing on you—he fears that the baron might punish the both of you, otherwise. He tries to be gentle on you when this happens, grazing you ever so lightly with his rapier, but he’ll always come running to Emily’s infirmary once the match is over… just to make sure.

꒰⚔️꒱・Assuming that you haven’t been hurt by him in a match, though, it does take some time for him to catch back up with you. Joseph is a massive cleanfreak, and absolutely despises the idea of being dirty—something caused both by his social status and the illness that took Claude away from him. He tends to make a beeline to his shower whenever he returns from matches, a habit that you’ve gradually come to pick up due to his hesitancy to cuddle with you when you haven’t. All things considered, it is a good habit, so you don’t mind it all that much.

꒰⚔️꒱・When it comes to things like PDA, I do imagine Joseph falling more on the conservative side ꒰once again due to his upbringing꒱. He’d really only engage in it when he’s feeling jealous, and for the most part prefers to keep all amorous gestures private… though he won’t complain nor attempt to stop you if you give him a quick kiss on the cheek, or something similar. He does, however, use a lot of French nicknames and terms of endearment for you—both in private and public. Mary enjoys teasing him for it, and offers to translate them for you if you don’t know French.

꒰⚔️꒱・Circling back to his fixation on cleanliness, the worst thing for him is falling sick. He’s quick to become upset if he notices himself falling under the weather, and he’ll quickly try to find something to blame for it. While this can grate on the nerves of whoever’s caring for him, being angry distracts him from his fear—though he’ll try to tone things down if he notices that he’s riling you up. Regardless, he’s grateful that you’re putting in the effort to care for him, even if he initially tries to shoo you off for the fear of getting you sick, too.

꒰⚔️꒱・If you’re the one sick, however, things tend to go much differently. He’s a mix of worried and distant whenever it happens, constantly obsessing over your condition and endlessly pestering Emily—begging her to make sure that you’re alright. At the same time, however, you won’t catch a single sight of him while you’re still ill—the thought of seeing you in such a state causing his stomach to churn. He’s quick to apologize once you’re better, pressing kisses on every part of skin that he can reach… Though expect a slight scolding to accompany his tenderness.

꒰⚔️꒱・Ending this with a cuddling headcanon..! Joseph absolutely adores having you close to him. Whether it be you sitting in his lap while he reads a book or him having an arm wrapped around you as he rants about bad matches and annoying survivors, cuddling is a necessity for him. He’s not against the idea of falling asleep while holding you, either, but be warned that his grip gets shockingly tight once he drifts off. While attempts at escape don’t fully wake him, he’ll try to convince you to stay with half-asleep murmurs of ‘don’t leave, mon ange…’ or ‘stay a little, mon amour…’. Unfortunately for you, they’re rather effective.

i have a taglist, which you can sign up for here!

#꒰📍꒱﹕my writing ⋆#identity v #identity 5 #idv #id5 #idv photographer #idv joseph #joseph desaulnier #joseph desaulniers #joseph desaulnier x reader #joseph desaulniers x reader #identity v x reader #idv x reader #identity v headcanons #idv headcanons #identity v headcannons #idv headcannons

367 notes · View notes

mncxbe · 6 months

Note

Hiiii i hope you have a great day! I love your blog 🥰 been living my best y/n days lately hahaha

If you don't mind, may i request for chuuya with reader who is a photographer. One day the reader scouted him on the street, not knowing about him at all, just mesmerized by his appearance. So I'm wondering about how Chuuya would be someone's muse. Definitely got inspired by your chuuya x painter!reader one haha.

Thank you so much ^^

Ps: can be sfw or nswf up to your imagination; please feel free to ignore this request if you don't feel like doing it^^

omg anonnie this!!! chuuya's got such model vibes I cannot even he could make it to the high fashion. also tysm I'm so happy I can make your Y/N dreams come true♡♡

it's a normal thursday afternoon and chuuya's walking down the streets of Yokohama, idly scrolling on his phone when you randomly stop him and ask if he's interested in having a few pictures taken. at first, he's a bit confused and suspicious but after you tell him you're a photographer and really love his style, he agrees. after all, a few pictures can't hurt.

the two of you walk to a neraby park. getting everything in place; you tell him how to pose and all and soon enough you manage to take a few good shots.

when you show him the photos chuuya's quite taken aback. he didn't expect them to turn this good: his scarlet hair paired perfectly with the yellowing autumn leaves in the background and the warm sunlight~ engulfing him in a veil of gold. it is mesmerizing. he simply stares at the little screen of your camera, mouth agape and you can't help but chuckle.

"there's just something about you, a certain energy you give off. i'd love to work with you more, if you're interested" you propose, giving him that sweet smile of yours.

and of course he's interested. how could he say no when he has the chance to work with someone so talented?

over the next months chuuya visits your studio from time to time. due to his busy schedule, your photoshoots are quite rare but still the highlight of your week. you both enjoy working together; you are calm and collected, don't pry too much into his personal life and he's receptive, always eager to try any new ideas you might have, your perfect muse.

and oh, how many ideas you have. for those blissful couple of hours in your studio chuuya can forget about his life and become something else; a black and white 90s supermodel, a pop of colour on a white background, an angel in the garden of Eden, whatever you want him to be. with each outfit you make him try on he turns into something else, something of your making and he loves that.

despite your constant pleas he refuses to let you use his picture for exhibitions or contests; after all, his identity needs to be kept secret. so instead you hang them around your studio~ little 3:2 pictures adorning your walls, lined up like celluloid scenes in an old picture movie.

with each evening you spend together chuuya finds himself falling more and more in love with you. it's not only the way you walk around the studio with your camera hanging around hour neck, gently biting down on your lower lip as you try to find the perfect angle for a shoot or how you always offer him a glass of his favourite wine when he comes over; you're his own form of escapism. you're funny and sweet and creative and see him for everything that he is and could be, not as a mere criminal working for the Port Mafia. he can talk to you for hours without getting bored too, which is something new.

things progress and one evening, after an especially tiring day at work and a few glasses of wine, chuuya finds himself entangled with you on the plush couch in your studio; worshipping every inch of your body just like you do with his on camera. it's heated and messy and he loves it so much he just can't get enough. and neither can you.

from then on, you two meet for reasons unrelated to work too; he drops by to bring you little gifts or flowers as a sign of gratitude, takes you out to dinner, visits art galleries with you and takes you on weekend get-aways. and so your muse becomes your friend and your lover. your one and only.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #chuuya fluff #chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya

141 notes · View notes

ioniansunsets · 7 months

Note

If you have time can you do headcanons for HEARTSTEEL Ezreal x K/DA fem!Reader? It's totally okay if you don't want to!!(≡^∇^≡)

✖ Heartsteel!Ezreal x K/DA!Reader ✖

✖ Word Count: 1.3k

✖ Tags: Established R/S

✖ A/N: Sorry for taking a while with this! I hope I did him justice. He is just a lovable idiot with your best interests in heart to me 💚💚💚

----

xxxx Day to Day xxxx

- He was a brat, an absolute whiny brat when your schedules don't line up. Ezreal is Complaining, begging and whining, incessantly pestering your managers to adjust things so he can spend time with you. His thoughts are plagued by you 24/7 and he wants nothing more than to just Be with you. Reluctantly he would still go to interviews and fan meets, but whenever he's on break he's sending you voice messages, sending you photos, drooping you messages on how he misses you.

- Ezreal would totally skip out on practices to run off and be by your side. Being in the same production studio totally helped. Blinking past higher ups and security to knock furiously on your studio door. Ahri sighing as she opens the door for him. Ezreal happily walking in like it is as much his studio as it is yours. " Here to visit my love, don't mind me girls!" Happy giggles erupting from his lips as he runs up to your side. He would totally just sit cross legged nearby, cheering as you pull off a dance move. Or jokingly learning the same set and joining in when you dance.

- If you were to visit him during his practice instead, he is ecstatic, suddenly a one take wonder whenever you are near. Of course he'd have to be perfect, you were watching him of course. Ezreal would also throw cute heart hands, heart fingers, blow kisses, throw his top off at you. All the embarrassingly cute things that just make him, him. The other boys in the band tease him of course, little loverboy becomes such a chummy mess around you it is almost surprising.

- This lovable loser would totally thirst trap and give you targeted fanservice. When you were apart Ezreal is the kind of guy to lift his shirt up and take a photo of him and his abs in the mirror to send to you. " Looked super cute today! Sucks that you aren't here to check it out yourself. Teehee." If you save any of these photos, don't tell him, it'll actually make him embarrassed instead. The way he immediately freaked out and told you to change it when he saw you set his photoshoot photo as your phone wallpaper, he cannot handle such love coming from someone he loves back just so much. One sided adoration was normal for him, seeing you love him back? His heart is thumping out of his chest.

- The kind of guy to serenade you in a high school boy kind of way, sneaking into the garden area below your window, throwing rocks at your window until you wake up and check it out only to see him with a ukulele loudly singing love songs he knows you like. The only reason it wasn't embarrassing was just because he was actually good at it, he was a singer so his voice was just so beautiful you can't help but forgive him. Of course he'd wait patiently to be let into your house after, laughing as you tell him he didn't have to sneak around to get in. He did it for the romantic fun of it, not because he has to.

- Ezreal is also rarely insecure, but when he is, he goes to you. You being a professional in the industry too, and also being his lover meant you were specifically the only one he trusts to hear his fears and appropriately comfort him. Worried about his voice not being good enough, his dancing being too erratic, his looks not being just perfect. Only when you tell him, with all your own experiences as a professional, that he was doing fine, amazing even. Or that everyone in the industry feels this way, it was just part of the job stress, would he finally calm down. " Thank you...I really needed that..." Soft whispers as he hugs you, your hands in his hair calming him down as he tries to breathe.

- And if it came to you? Panic setting in before a big interview or performance? He is your personal hype man. If anyone can make you feel better about yourself it was Ezreal. He loves you oh so much and has just as many reasons to back it up. Telling you how your cute smile always leaves his mind a fuzzy mess, how he loves your voice so much he sleeps to your solo records, how he watches compilations of your performances because he really loves to see you dance, there was nothing about you he doesn't love, and he is sure your fans feel the same way. He is just as big of a fan of you as you are of him, its hard not to love him for that.

xxxx Touring xxxx

- Ezreal hates that he has to hide his love for you on stage. Sure the adoring cries of cute girls and guys from the crowd was nice but where is yours! Why were you so busy that you haven't seen his selfie! Holding back any negative feelings he would still perform as well as he could on stage. He understands that you had your own performances so you couldn't watch all of his but he is still sad and pouty over it!

- If you were hidden in the audience, the moment he spots you its a 180. Suddenly even more energetic than usual, he can't help but to hop and blink closer to the audience, trying to give you a high five before blinking back on stage. Ezreal having to explain to Alune later why he was breaking rules. But all he would do is sheepishly laugh and apologize, knowing full well he would do it again. He was just so drawn to you afterall.

- Ez is the kind of loving boyfriend that would totally buy you over the top gifts and get them delivered. Almost every location you perform at, a bouquet is personally sent to your dressing room. Always your favorite flowers, sometimes a cheesy love poem written in the card, but always sent to you before your performance. The kind of " Hey, I can't be there but I will be watching you from here <3" reminder that leaves your chest feeling warm.

- If Ezreal is in the audience? He doesn't hide it, rumors be damned, he's a fan he loves you! He hides it enough at his own stage lives, he is going all out with your fans. Lightsticks, fansigns, tees, ita-bags, he has it all. He loves you and wants Everyone to know he's a fan. VIP tickets, man is always right in front jumping and cheering, screaming fan chants, embarrassing you but also just making it so fun! He is in queue with his VIP pass for a Hi-touch too, embarrassing considering how he is already always snuggling you in your private time, yet here he was in public sneaking even more skinship from you.

- It's no longer any doubt to fans that Ezreal loves K/DA but whether you two were a thing? That was a mystery. He loves the fans shipping the two of you together though, he might not be allowed to openly declare his claim over you but, this was cute enough to satisfy him. He has a side fan account for you that is surprisingly popular with fans because for some reason, this account seems to always grab sneakily good photos of you in public.

- When you do hop by backstage to wait for him, he goes fucking crazy. The kind to happily yell your name as he runs and jumps into your arms. He loves you so much and so brightly, peppering your face in kisses, bragging about his perfect performance, excitedly telling you how some fans threw him gifts on stage. A warm smile as he places his sunglasses on your face, " Not bragging to make you jealous, I hope you know you're my one and only." A small kiss on your nose as he pulls away, flashing you a charming smile.

#Ezreal x Reader #Heartsteel!Ezreal #Ezreal #Ezreal League of Legends #Ezreal LoL #HEADCANONS #League of Legends Headcanons #i think of him as embarassing you but hes so cute he is forgiven #Ezreal League #Anon Answer #K/DA Reader

311 notes · View notes

neesieiumz · 1 year

Text

love language ⸻ You remind me I’m imperfect and it sucks to admit it. ⸻ a. ojiro

synopsis ⸺ after six months, you lay eyes on your ex-boyfriend at a mutual friend’s party.

warnings ⸺ smut. 18+, black-coded reader. female reader. afab anatomy. praise kink, cunnilingus, blow job, some angst, happy ending, time skip aran. use of ocs, but barely even mentioned. he’s very sweet to you no matter what. this is also my haikyuu debut so... I haven't read the haikyuu time skip so this is all referencing his wiki page and how other people write about him.

writer notes ⸺ disclaimer, i'm just starting the haikyuu manga, so please bear with me. I really tried to embody what people say he embodies, so hopefully, I did this fine man justice. (also disclaimer, i hate the reason they broke up but it was the best one i could find and create.)

wc ⸺ 6.2k

The city was alive mostly at night, it was a beautiful thing. Although, that was where you were not at tonight.

As you walked, your heels clicked through against the cobblestone walkway. Passing by the bright glass stone lights, lighting your way to the one destination. Smiling, although it was a melancholy one. It had been a while since you had gone out like this, wrapping yourself up in work and distracting yourself from any and everything. Most of your friends would call your recent way of life destructive, so you hoped to get them off your back this way. Your dress was black, matching everything else you wore. After all, the event you were going to was an all-black attire. The dress is backless, along with carefully sewn holes on both sides of the dress. In your hands held both your bag and a gift bag as well, containing a very expensive purse and perfume.

Soon you arrived at the event, a birthday party, a very private one as well. It was held at a country club you used to frequent as well, back during a different part of your life. Two guards stood out front, one holding a tablet.

“Name?” The one on the left asked you, the moment you stepped up to them.

You gave them your name, and them checking, glancing at your photo that popped up before looking at you. It was very tight security after all. You hold both bags in one hand, before lowering your glasses and revealing your eyes so they can get a good look at you. The two men nodded, stepping out of the way and opening the door to the private club. They both tell you to enjoy your night, which you thanked them for before walking inside. At the reception of the country club, the lady at the desk smiled, before asking you where you were headed. There must have been multiple events being held during this time, you thought to yourself, no matter though.

You told her the name of your close friend, whose birthday it was today. She smiled, before pointing down the hall, telling you which hall is hosting the party. Smiling, thanking her before walking down yourself. You creaked the door open slightly, the sounds of people mingling together getting louder and louder as you did. The tables were mostly gone, making room for the tall tables designed for people to rest their drinks on. The meshing of gold and green, a garden-themed cocktail party. Vines decorated the walls, paired together with shimmering fake flowers. You smiled to yourself, once again, you thought, she goes all out. Towards the back, hanging a beautifully decorated table which deemed itself to be the gift table was a banner adorning her name. Wading through the crowd, smiling and waving at those you knew and excusing yourself past those you did not know.

Jumping at the sudden attack behind your back, you heard familiar giggling as pink silk-gloved hands wrap themselves around you. The familiar giggling had you smiling even wider, placing your hands on top of her own, and turning your head to make eye contact with her.

“I thought you weren’t going to make it!!” She whined in your ear, the smell of saccharine alcohol on her tongue.

Smiling, you turned towards her fully, wrapping your arms around her in a hug, “of course I wasn’t, I couldn't miss your birthday for the world.”

She fully accepted your hug, letting you go but still keeping her arms around you. Immediately her eyes zeroed in on the gift you had in your hands. She squealed, immediately diving in to swipe it away from you, but you moved back with a quick step, laughing as she pouted once again. Your friend became very spoiled once alcohol tasted her tongue.

“I’ll place this on the gift table and you can open them tomorrow when you're much more yourself, okay?”

She pouted again, but nodded her head, telling you to stop by the cocktail table before finding the rest of your friends. You agreed, turning around to continue on your journey to the gift table. Getting the table, you placed your gift along with the rest of the massive and most expensive gifts as well. Once you did, you turned around, eyeing both the assortment of cocktails available already pre-made, along with an open bar making custom selections for those who didn’t like what was available. Walking over to the table, you looked over everything that was in front of you, and it all looked so good. Martinis, margaritas, and all the different assortment of colored drinks. Glancing over everything one more time, you decided on a gradient-like drink, clear on top with yellow settling at the bottom, decorated with ice at the top and a piece of rose vine and a small bud that had yet to grow into a full-fleshed rose. This specific drink came with its own straw. After carefully sipping it, approving of its taste, you cast your eyes to the crowds, looking for wherever your friends were congregating.

Catching sight of your friend’s frilly pink dress, you started to make your way to them, and then froze…

Standing there, over 6 feet tall, wearing a navy blue silk fitted shirt with matching slacks. You couldn't keep your eyes off of him, eyes seeing his familiar layered chains. When he’s not on the court, he’s always wearing them, especially the ones you got him. Your eyes landed on the biggest one of them all, recognizing it as the one you got him on his birthday, in the very shape of the ball he loves the most. When you left to spend it with him with what little time you had. His birthday was always during the volleyball season here, so you never got to do a more special celebration until the off-season. His ears were adorned with gold studs, face, and hair, and freshly cut, you took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Aran Ojiro looked good, way too good for you to face him again.

It was only six months ago that you even broke up with him.

The season had just begun when you did so as well, which usually lasted about six months as well, but you weren’t expecting to see him so soon after.

Before you could turn around, fall into the crowd and avoid the man, the birthday girl spotted you once again. She smiled, waving to you to come over, calling you by name. Almost immediately, the rest of your group followed her eyesight, including Aran.

Damn her, you bitterly thought, forcing yourself to pick up your legs to walk over to the group. You kept your eyes on the birthday girl, forcing yourself to ignore the cryptic countenance Aran took the moment he laid his eyes. You greeted the rest of the group, giving hugs to the ones who came up for them, without spilling your drink.

“It’s so good to see you, it feels like we haven’t seen you in forever!” Fumiya, who stood next to the birthday girl said.

“I’ve just been… really busy!” You forced a smile on your face, taking another sip of your drink.

“Yeah, busy throwing yourself into work and barely giving yourself a fucking break.”

The group knew of your recent break with the man not too far away, but it seemed the flowing alcohol stripped away all inhibitions. You could feel his eyes on your own the moment Fumiya said that, although you did your best to ignore it, as the group delved into further conversation. Before you knew it, your straw was sucking up remnants of water from the melting ice. You excused yourself from the group, deciding to go to the bar for a custom drink.

Smiling at the bartender, you handed over the empty glass before looking over the cocktail menu, the more complicated it was as you looked further down and down the menu. Everything was covered by your friend’s fiance, who was also a very rich man completely in love with her. You looked over what was available, before deciding on a platinum passion, a very expensive drink, something you would never order on a day-to-day basis. As you waited, you could hear footsteps walking about behind you, mostly ignoring them until someone came up right beside you.

“What would you like to order, sir?” You heard the bartender ask whoever was beside you.

“Uh, lemme get a Moscow mule.”

Your eyes widened at the familiar voice beside you, but this time you couldn't help but glance to your right, seeing the same man you had been avoiding at all cost right beside you. The two of you locked eyes for a moment, and quickly you looked away, your manicured nails tapping against the open bar.

“It’s been a while, huh?” You heard him say, knowing his words for you.

You took a deep quick breath, before deciding to speak, “yeah… yeah, it has.”

It went quiet all over again, the awkwardness settling in and suffocating the two of you. Soon the bartender that took your order came over with a tall glass filled with fizzling purple drink, topped with a beautiful orchid and a black straw to tie it all together. You took a sip of it, the taste of passion fruit and expensive champagne, with some sweet apricots mixed in, you could hardly taste the alcohol in the drink. Despite everything telling you not to, you couldn't help yourself, turning towards him. He was leaning against the bar, sipping away at his glass of vodka and ginger beer. Crossing your legs as you glanced over his form once more. You took another sip, watching him as he finished his drink with no stopping, handing his glass right back to the person at the bar. He ordered another one, and as he did, took the opportunity to get closer to you.

“How’s work been for you?” He asked, showing off his soft, sweet smile.

“It’s been really good for me, I recently closed on a house and am currently setting up some open houses as well.” You said, smiling at the recent positive prospects at your job as a realtor.

His smile got even bigger at that, which had you smiling even harder.

“How… How is the season this year? I didn’t really keep up with it as much as I wanted.” You said, looking away from him.

The two of you knew what that meant, but the two of you didn’t want to mention it, at least not right now. Nodding his head, he turned his head towards the bartender who gave him his drink.

“The season was good, really good. I’m just… glad to be home for the time being until training.”

You nodded your head once again at that, “I’m glad... That you had a good season of course.”

As you took a sip of your drink and Aran did at the same time, you couldn’t help but wonder, how different the two of you would be if you hadn’t made the decision you did. Six months ago may not feel like a lot, but if you had asked yourself just fifteen minutes ago before you even laid eyes on him once again, you would have said you were over him. However, you’re here, staring your ex-boyfriend once again in the eyes, and realizing, how much you really missed him.

Your stomach took on a sudden, heavy feeling of realization as you stood up straight, slightly startling the very same man your mind was in turbulence over. You forced a smile on your face.

“itwasreallynicetoseeyouAranbutihavetogo,” you mumbled down, placing your unfinished drink on the bar before racing past him as fast as you can without drawing much attention to yourself.

You could hear him call out your name, but you ignored it, opting to open the doors leading to the endarkened hallway of the country club, into sudden cold air. Crossing your arms, rubbing your hands over your upper to provide some kind of warmth. You wanted to grab your phone, to call yourself an Uber or Lyft, whichever would get here fast when you eyed landed on your empty elbow which was supposed to hold your bag. You blinked once, once again, before relaxing you must have left it at the open bar, where you left Aran all high and dry from the… could you even call that a conversation?

Suddenly the door flew open right behind you, showing Aran, eyes wide open and holding two things in his hands. Your very bag that you were just worrying over, and the drink that you had left behind. Immidalet he spotted, his anxious form relaxing as he approached you.

“You left this behind,” he said quietly, holding them out to you.

As quiet as he was, you thanked him, taking the things from his hands. As you were about to walk away, Aran’s voice stopped you right in your tracks.

“Did… did I make a mistake?”

His voice echoed through the hall, louder than he probably meant for it but it hits you nonetheless. Slowly you turned around, taking a deep breath and shaking your head at him.

“No, it was… it was me, you were… perfect.”

He shook his head, taking even more steps towards you. You tried to step away but he just got closer, “I’m not accepting that, there has to be a reason why you would break up with me with no reason, no reason at all.”

You shook your head once again, “I’m not lying Aran.” You could say this a million times, the look on his face revealed that he wasn’t taking your answer.

He took another step towards you, and you took another step back. Over again, you did this song and dance until your back hit the wall. You dropped your bag, while he took the drink back, placing it on the ground before standing back up. His tall form towered over you, arm resting above your head as he looked down at you. You could only give him one glance before looking away from him, your mesh-gloved hands trying to push him away from you. Heart pounding with your ears, body beginning to throb all over. Insanity on how he still had such an effect on you.

A hand came under your chin, moving your face, “look at me,” his low voice mumbled, but it was loud and clear.

You listened before anything could tell you to stop, looking up at his deep, dark brown eyes, shining with a multitude of emotions.

“Aran…” you whispered, and that was the last thing you said before feeling lips on your own.

Taking in a breath of surprise, you could help yourself, falling under his spell, returning the kiss with just as much vigor. The arm that was above you left its position, hand now resting softly on your cheek as his other hand came about your waist, his palms touching the open skin on the dress. Your own hands trailed up from his stomach, the feeling of his abs so familiar under you yet everything you've been craving for a long time. Hands now resting on the sides of his neck, you pulled him as close as you could.

Slowly, you pulled away from the kiss, the two of you breathing heavily as you did. Suddenly you could feel his rough hands swipe something away on your face… liquid… oh, you’re crying. Sniffing, you tried to wipe away the rest of them but he wasn’t having that, taking both of your hands in one of his before whipping the rest of your tears with his other. Soon after, he took your bag off the ground, along with a drink. With nothing but a motion, he told you to finish up the drink. Nodding your head, you took the drink, tears still silently streaking down your face, as you sip down the rest. He took his phone and keys out of his pockets, before taking your free hand and guiding you out of the country club. You had finished the drink as you reached the receptionist's desk, which was now empty. Aran took the empty glass filled with ice, and placed it on the desk, leaving a small note before taking your hand and taking you right outside.

It was quiet between the two of you as you walked outside into the cold. Almost immediately, you shivered, and Aran stopped in his tracks. He turned around, facing you, before shifting off his jacket. You tried to refuse the jacket, but he was having absolutely none of that, draping it across your shoulders before taking your hand and leading you right to his car. He unlocked the car, and opened the passenger side, gesturing for you to get inside, which you did.

Making yourself comfortable within the familiar car, buckling in your seatbelt, as Aran jogged around, opening his own door before sliding inside the car. With a quick press of a button, sliding on his own seatbelt before pulling out of his parking space. With so much to say, and no clear way to say it, the car ride was silent as he drove the two of you to your– his apartment, or his loft, you would put it. As he suddenly turned a sharp left, his broad hand suddenly grabbed at your thigh, keeping you both in place as he turned. It was such a simple gesture but everything about it had your heart racing just like the event hall

Arriving at the parking deck, Aran pulled in, parked, and got out of the car. You knew better than to move, Aran jogging right back over to open your door. Holding his hand, you thanked him, watching him close the door behind you before locking the car. He handed you your bag and you held it as he held a tight grip on your hand, guiding you to the exit into the building. He knew you knew where to go, yet diced on keeping a tight grip on you, the two of you entering a dimmed hallway before heading down the hall to the left. Going down the familiar twists and turns of the loft building, the two of you arrived right in front of his door. Quickly, he unlocked the door, before taking you inside his place. Aran turned on the lights as you entered inside. Eyeing everything, it was just as you left it six months ago.

Kicking off your heels, you placed them by the door as Aran went to the kitchen, telling you to take a seat on the couch. Despite everything within you, you listened, snuggling within his formal jacket, smelling of frosted apples, whiskey, and white oak. You waited for a few moments, before hearing movement and seeing him walk over to you with a glass hand, filled with water. He sat right next to you, slowly handing over the glass to you. You thanked him, taking a few sips of the water, the coolness relieving pressure building you didn’t know was building within you. Once you had enough, you placed the glass on the glass coffee table in front of you, before feeling your hands grab your own. He turned you towards, holding them close to his, placing a slight kiss on the mesh gloves. You relished in the feeling of his soft lips, the thin material allowing you to do so. Aran soon moved one of his hands around your waist, basically scooping you up and placing you right on his lap.

“Talk to me, you know how these things go,” he murmured, “we didn't have a chance to because you broke things off right before I left and wouldn’t answer my calls or texts.”

You sighed, leaning into his hold, his arms locking you right into his lap.

“You said it wasn’t something I did… was it something you did and you simply didn't want to tell me?”

“Did you stop loving me?”

You shook your head as well, denying that qualm as well.

“Well then, if it’s not any of those, and you say it wasn’t something I did… what prompted you to do so, then?”

You took a deep breath, thumb aimlessly stroking across his fingers, “it wasn't something you did. More like, I made a decision that I thought was best for both of us.”

Confusion overtook his face as you shifted your body, straddling his lap so you could face him fully. You ignored the throbbing within yourself, shifting yourself up to get as close to him as you could.

“You’ve always been a person of passion, it’s been your life since before I met you. I just… I just like I couldn’t keep up with you sometimes. You would want to do all these things when your home and I… couldn’t keep up.”

“We were on two different wavelengths to me, and I didn’t know how else to fix it.”

You could both feel and hear Aran take in a deep breath before sighing it out, all while his hands made mindless circles into the parts of your skin that were exposed.

“So it was something I did,” he mumbled in your ear.

You immediately shook your head, but he shushed, laying his head right on top of your shoulders. You moved your arms up, resting your hand straight on the back of his head, holding him to you.

“I should have been more sensitive to what you were feeling,” he said, placing a kiss on top of your shoulder.

You shook your head, “maybe I should have just told you what I was feeling, I was… scared.”

“Scared? Of what?”

You couldn't help but shrug your shoulders, “I… psyched myself into believing you wouldn't understand what I was feeling.”

“Now you know the last thing I would do is judge you, angel.”

You couldn't help but smile at the nickname, it’s been a while since you'd heard, it was your favorite one out of everything he’s ever called you. Aran continued to place kisses on top of your shoulders, moving closer and closer to your neck, His heated breath caused you to shiver within his hold, and your hands tightened around the back of his neck. You could feel your dress rising up with every movement you made, your body aching for him after so long. His movements went from your shoulder to your neck, laying careful but electrifying kisses all along it.

Gasping his name, you curled into him, his hands soon sliding from your hips to your ass. He gripped at it tightly, and before you knew it, he got up with you still in his arms. You squealed, holding on to him tightly as he made a few steps before heading up his black cherry-wood stairs, heading up to his own bedroom on the second floor. The moment he arrived at the top, he took a few uck steps to the left before launching you right onto the bed, landing on the soft material. You scooted back a bit, resting again on your arms and the pillows as Aran began to unbutton his shirt a bit. The dark shirt slowly revealed his very well-fitted form, from years of volleyball. He threw his shirt to the side, before getting on the bed, climbing right on top of you.

“I fucking missed you,” he mumbled into your skin, his hands dipping down under your rising dress.

Breathless as he pressed his fingers against your panties, taking in the wetness staining them. He left a few kisses along your cheek before capturing another kiss, pressing himself as he did. You held his face in your hands as he kissed you, deeply, as if you were going to disappear right in front of him. The dress straps were slipping with every movement he made against you, the dress falling off all the same. He pushed himself in between your legs, allowing you to wrap them around his waist as well. His thick fingers slipped past your panties, two of them easing themselves deep inside you. Gasping within the kiss, unconsciously squeezing around them. Aran said nothing as he teases you, taking his thumb to rub slow yet deep circles in your clit, moving his fingers just as slowly.

Slowly, he let go of the kiss, keeping his lips right next to your ear as his hollow deep voice whispered into it. He took in your squirms, your pleas for him to go faster, knowing this pace couldn’t do anything for you.

“Relax for me,” his voice was soft but stern.

You tried your best to listen to him, but your body still slightly trembled in anguish, wanting him to do more and more to you. Slowly he began to speed up, sating the building desire and frustration within you. Your legs had spread wider and wider, allowing him to hit deeper and deeper. At this point your dress had fallen off your dress, scrunching up and pooling around your waist. Dripping all over his fingers, your body quivered and shook, jerking as you cried out.

You hear his voice speak up again, “you gonna come for me?”

Rapidly shaking your head, no words come to your head as your mind begins filling with brown noise. You could feel his body pressing against you, keeping the same rapid pace, with no sense of stopping. Squeezing around him, your hands came up around his upper arms, squeezing them so tight, your sharp nails dug dents into his skin. He paid it no mind, entrancing by the spaced-out look on your face.

“Don’t hold back, angel.”

Eyes closing shut, your body convulsed, a loud gasp-like moan coming out through the room, arousal gushing out of all over your thighs and his fingers. You melted back into his hold and bed, mind floating and filled with noise. Slowly he pulled his fingers out, not being able to see him taking the two before lapping your juices up. Sono you felt hands right at your waist, pulling off the rest of the dress, along with your panties. Once the clothes were gone, you could feel those same hands pull right down towards him, matching up eye to eye with him. Aran placed one hand on your face, keeping the other one at your waist. He lowered his face down to you, whispering in your ear,

“You okay angel?”

You nodded your head, and slowly brought up your arms to his face, holding his face in your hands. He accepted your soft kiss, his thumb rubbing affectionately against your cheek. Using your arm, you prop yourself up, pushing back against him as he rises up a bit. His hands went back down around your waist, before flipping the two of you with ease, you laying right on top of him. You swung your legs over his body as you let go of the kiss, straddling his lap. You reached down, unclasping his pants button before slowly pulling down the zipper. Slowly you stripped his pants away, revealing plain black boxers. You pushed his pants as far down as they could, Aran kicking off the rest of his legs and the bed. Your hands went on his boxers next, slowly peeling them back. Before you could even peel them down a quarter of the way, his thick cock sprung out, slapping against his abdomen. You peeled them down the rest of the way, scooting back a bit, leaning down with soft, wet kisses against his stomach, leading down to the tip. He let out small, soft gasps with every kiss you left.

You relished every sound he made, tongue swirling and teasing him, knowingly teasing him just as he did you. Having had enough of your antics, Aran’s hands gripped at your shortened locs, no longer in the high ponytail you had for the part. You slowed him to slowly guide your head down his length, your hands wrapping around the rest of the length you couldn’t swallow. The moment his cock hit the back of your throat, he groaned, head thrown back. Bobbing your head up and down, droll dripping down onto his length. The sounds of his pleasure only fueled your actions further, your hand coming around to your lips couldn't reach.

“So good, so fucking good for me,” he let out, using his hands to help guide down his cock.

You moaned around him, causing him to jerk within your hold, heaving in and out. Just as quickly he had your entire being under his spell, you couldn't deny how much you released in the sounds Aran made for you.

How could I ever part with him in the first place? You couldn't help but think to yourself, feeling his grip against your hair tighten, as if was beginning to brace himself. This didn't stop your movements and continued to swallow him down. He wants you as much as he could get out of his mouth, before the taste of slightly sour yet basic flooding your mouth. You swallowed all his cum, not letting up even after Aran let go of your hair. Taking a deep breath, you lifted your head off of his cock, placing wet kisses all along it. His hands suddenly grabbed your hips, dragging you right up to him. You hovered right over him, smiling as you looked down at his face. As you went down for another kiss, you could feel his own hands guiding your hips further down.

Gasing, gripping his hands in sharp pain as he began to slowly sink his cock inside you. You begged for him to go slowly, hearing him whisper in your ear.

“Breath through your nose, angel, I’ll go as slow as you need me to do.”

You nodded your head hanging onto every word that fell from his lips. It had been so long, and the fact he was so big was an even bigger contributing factor. Overwhelmed, your head dropped down to his chest as his hands moved from your hips to underneath your butt. Restricted in his movements, his grip on you was tight as he slowly lifted your body up and down. Your body lay against his, trying your best to relax as he slowly fucked you, allowing your body to get used to him once again. Aran whispered in your ears, guiding you through everything. Soon your painful gasps became filled with passion, your tight grip on his shoulders loosening up. Your own hips began to grind down.

“Better?” he whispered, feeling your own hips begin to move against him.

You let out a moan in affirmation, nodding against his chest before feeling him thrust up once. His pace began to quicken, beginning to repeatedly plunge into you. His every movement overwhelmed you, curling into the pleasure. Your hands roamed his chest, nails slightly digging into them as he ravished you through and through. The sounds of wet skin slapping against wet skin, the gush of your arousal soaking the both of you, dripping onto the bed. Suddenly, he lifted you up, rising above the bed. Quickly, you wrapped your arms around his shoulder and neck, holding on tight as he stood up, slamming your back against the wall. Head threw back in pleasure as he parted your legs widener, his grip on your thighs so strong he could leave bruises.

Aran nuzzled against your neck, his hot heavy breath breathing shivers down your body. He nipped away at your neck, taking in every sound you made under him.

“Soso good,” your words were slurring together, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“You’re taking me so well, angel, fuck I could fuck you all night,” he groaned into your ear, biting at it slightly at the end.

Your body and voice cried out at that, expletives falling from your lips. He was hitting so deep, he could almost bruise your cervix with the pace he was going. You couldn’t complain, you had never felt more within a single moment. The number of marks you left on his body would definitely be noticeable tomorrow, but you couldn't care less about that. He continued leaving kisses along your neck, sucking and biting against the skin as well. Tension was inciting, building within you, your cunt throbbing and squeezing tighter and tighter around him.

“I’m gonna, fuck I’m gonna⸺” you could barely finish your warning before the dam broke, cum gushing out of you, making a bigger mess than before.

“Oooh fuck,” your body shook and shuddered, letting out a loud moan as you came all over him, squirting all over you.

Aran didn’t stop his movements for a second, fucking you through your prolonged orgasm. Your body twitches within his hold, incoherent words slurring together from your mouth. Just as quickly as he moved you from the bed, he pulled out for a moment, carrying you right back to the bed before sliding right back into you, your legs stretched to their maximum. You screamed, hands reaching for something ground as you could feel his fat tip press right against your cervix,

“Too deep,” you squealed, overly sensitive from the orgasm you just had.

He said nothing, his slams into you starting to become more erratic, his mind getting just as spaced out as your own. His body hovered over you, slamming into you with everything breath he had in him, face furrowed in concentration. You could do nothing but take the force of his pummels, mind floating and body tingling from everything around you. His sweat dripped down from his face, his chains falling in front of you, dangling above your face.

With a sudden groan, “fuck⸺”, he slammed into you aimlessly a few more times, before going, his body laying right on top of you as he groaned into your neck.

You could feel him filling you up, gasping as you did. In the back of your mind, you were thankful you were still on birth control. His body was sticky with sweat, sticking on top of yours as the two of you just lay there. He turned his head, moving it right back to your face, before laying soft and sweet kisses all over your face and cheek, completely different from the man who had just ravaged and relished in your every being.

Slowly, he pulled out, the two of you hissing from the sensitivity as he did. You could barely move off the bed, only hearing his movements as he walked away from the bed. You could only sit with your thoughts, they began to run rough, wondering if he had suddenly regretted that before hearing his footsteps approach the bed. Suddenly, you felt something cold and wet along your inner thighs, pressing carefully into the sore places his grip got a little too tight. You smiled, this was familiar, reminiscing on the days past. Hissing at the sudden switch in sensations, but relaxing as the cold wet rag made your inner thighs better. Aran continued to wipe away the mess on your body, along with carefully pressing the rag against your pussy to allow for it to receive some relief. It helps you regain some of your strength, being able to watch him walk away into the bathroom to clean himself up. He kept the door open, allowing you to gaze and look at him as he did, watching the cold water drip down his body as well.

He felt your eyes on him, turned around, and saw you keeping your eyes on every part of his body. Aran only smirked, turning away from you.

“You better stop looking at me before I want a round two,” is all he said, turning on the sink and ringing out the rag.

Your boisterous laugh echoed through the loft, flipping around in the sheets, which were still slightly wet. You heard the sink turn off, before seeing Aran walk over with a blanket and a silk wrapping in hand. Together the two of you laid the blanket down on the bed, before grabbing the thick, black comforter and wrapping yourselves in it, exhaustion hitting your body like freight trains. Aran took the silk wrapping, helping you place your hair into it before falling into the blankets.

Yawning, you could feel his strong arms wrap themselves sound you, pulling you into him. You turned around, snuggling into his physique, hands coming up right under your head to get more comfortable under him. You felt him place a kiss on

You know you’re still in due for a long conversation concerning your insecurities within your relationship. How this situation even came to be was all about you getting into your head, along with other outside forces that you would rather not talk about. However, there was one thing you could come to a conclusion about when it comes to Aran Ojiro, you could never fully part with him. Even if your paths diverge at the end.

taglist: @orchiddreamz @shamelesshoefairy

800 notes · View notes

jabberwocky-warrior · 9 months

Text

Random dating headcanons for every NRC Student

Featuring all NRC students [[Platonic Ortho]]

All headcanons are based on you dating the characters. Only pronoun used is "you". Can be read as Prefect/OC/Selfinsert I think

Tags: Fluff, random dating HCs, Platonic Ortho,

TW // Food mentioned in multiple, these are dating headcanons,

A/N I strongly believe in Leona's. I didn't word it perfectly but i love these.

734 words | Not proofread at all |

Leona waits for you to start eating first. Eating first is a big deal in a lot of animal behaviors and in royal etiquette, the monarch eats first but for you, he’ll always make an exception.

Kalim plans for your trip to his home ahead of time. IT’s not even like in an itinerary way but a safety. All guard/servants are informed before your arrival. He makes sure their is a list of who will be cooking food for you. He even asks jamil for insider knowledge on which servants to watch out for.

Malleus really really really wants to see you in traditional Briar valley garments. Like REally Really Really badly wants to see you in them. Especially ones that match with his own.

Lilia wants to take you to a classic Fae revelry. To dance all night with you. Dont worry about the dangers of having your name taken. A simple fix really. Let him take your last name and replace it with his.

Azul took one of his old quills that were worn out and turned it into a necklace for you. He’s also turned his other old quills into other trinkets like bookmarks, pins, etc.

[[Platonic]] Ortho loves playing 20 questions with you about random human things.

Deuce sends his mom selfies of you two on dates all the time. She loves seeing him so happy with you. His mom will send a selfie back with the snapchat dog filter. One time it started a Selfie war.

Sebek loves when you lay your head on his lap and vice-versa. His favorite thing is you laying on his chest while he reads a book. If you ask, he’ll read it out loud to you.

Vil sews your initials into his dorm uniform. He’ll add his initials into your clothes if you’ll let him.

Epel loves walking hand in hand with you through the woods on campus. It reminds him of home and having you here makes it even better.

Cater created a private magicam account just to post candid photos of you two together. Its private so No one can see them but him. He regularly checks it when hes feeling down.

Ace loves when you have cuddle dates. He doesn’t even care if you fall asleep early. He just loves the company. Sleep comes to him quickly with you by his side.

Silver asked his dad to secretly follow yall on your first date and wake him up every time he fell asleep. You date was a picnic surrounded by trees just to make sure Lilia had ample space to hide from your sight.

Riddle he convinced you to have a big study date for a big exam coming up. When you arrived at heartslabyul though, he lead you to the garden where he had a romantic dinner set up.

Rook carves your name into his bow. It’s in obnoxious cursive and he adds poetry in french next to it.

Jack brings you to his family BBQs. He loves watching you play with his siblings and seeing how perfecting you fit in with his family.

Ruggie reverse pickpockets you. He leaves you favorite candy/snacks in your bag. If you text him complaining that your hungry but cant get a snack, he just tells you where to check in your bag.

Jade will try any food concoction you make as long as you’ll try his. If you hate mushrooms he will willingly leave them out of the dish.

Jamil loves when you come to watch his basketball. It’s one of the only times he can go all out. He cant help but smile seeing you in the crowd cheering for him.

Trey will scheme his way into being partnered with you as often as he can. He’s not above calling in a favor but normally promising sweets is enough.

Floyd got you a giant eel plushy. It the size of a pregnancy pillow and is the shape. When he comes over to your room he will hug it until you get into bed with him.

Idia will pull for characters that remind him of you. Whether its just their hair or their personality, it doesn’t matter. You know when someone builds a character that isnt meta and isnt that great and they turn them into a DPS GOD. Yeah he does that with those characters.

I love them all your honor.

I hope you enjoy this post. Feel free to send in asks/requests.

If you notice any mistakes please let me know!!

224 notes · View notes

natriae · 11 months

Text

Chapter 1: Stahp callin' me Miya

next>

Masterlist

warnings: profanity & complaining

"No Miya you cannot for the love of god post that you wanna ride Sakusa's dick on tiktok,"

"why not i'd be funny,"

Funny enough, leaving the MSBY gymnasium was the hardest part about your job. It should be the easiest, but all the boys think you clocking out means now is the time to ask you questions. In particular a setter manages to do this everyday. You always catch him running out of the locker room door with wet hair and his gym bag hugged tightly to his chest as he chases after you. Half the time his questions don't even have to do with your job. Questions he should be asking the manager or coach.

Exiting the large building the two of you are met with the beautiful, natural landscape of osaka. The parking lot with huge trees shading your cars, and small lights in the ground not to ruin the scenery. They even managed to make sure the garden full of flowers in the front was managed daily. The landscape would be so relaxing if there wasn't a loud blonde haired setter talking your ear off.

You'd think he'd be trying to get with you with how determined he is to be by your side on your way out, but those thoughts leave as soon as he opens his mouth.

Questions fly out of: 'can ya check out this pimple on my ass' or 'would it ruin mah image if i posted a twerking video'. If anyone heard your conversions they'd think you two are just close friends, but you only met him a few months ago and never see him outside of your job.

Atsumu was just a carefree young man without a filter, and as much as you hated him annoying you on your way out, you were grateful. You were grateful that you had someone walk you to your car in the afternoon or at night even if he wasn't purposefully doing it.

Like right now, while he rants about what a good idea it would be to post his hot-takes on his teammates he subconsciously opens your car door for you, and waits for you to roll your window down before shutting it.

"I'm just sayin' I don't think there will be as much backlash as ya think," the thick accent rolls off his tongue as he ducks his large body down to be face to face with you.

"Okay, yeah when you're getting death threats from Sakusa's fan's I won't be there to help you."

At your retort he scrunches his stupidly cute face up and fires back, "yah, ya will. It's yer job," he finished by giving you his best matter of fact face and waited for you to respond. You think that's why he enjoys toying with you so much, because he knows you will fight his own fire with more fire, but you also hate when he's right--like right now.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath before continuing, "Please Miya just give me one weekend where I don't need to clean up your mess off the clock,"

"When have ya ever hadda do that,"

"Last weekend when you got in a fist fight at a bar," you snapped back.

"Hey! That guy was makin' a lady uncomfortable," he reasons.

"Yes, Miya it was sweet of you, but not for MSBY when headlines of 'MSBY Setter caught in Bar Brawl' hit the first page," Working with the boys as their publicist was hard to say the least. It's like babysitting, but without the money for dinner. Constantly making sure the boys don't fight, swear, or even post stupid tiktoks. You have to review their posts before they post it, and think of any possible way they could receive backlash for it, but the best part of it all was seeing the terrible photos of the boys-like the picture of Atsumu being punched in the face- or getting calls from their mom's because their son won't pick up.

"okay I promise…under one condition," dear god, "stahp callin' me Miya! I have a twin it's confusing!"

Exaggerating you stick you head out of the car window and glace around before ultimately turning back to the man and saying, "I've never met him so 'till I do it's Miya,"

At that you roll up your window as Atsumu gives you a look of disbelief. You signed a very specific contract. You cannot under any circumstances get close to the boys, so to save yourself from wanting more you will stick to their last names.

Taglist: OPEN!

@thisbicc @lovley212

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #atsumu miya #atsumu imagine #haikyuu atsumu #atsumu #atsumu fic #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #hq atsumu #hq #hq headcanons #atsumu miya x reader #haikyu #haikyū!!

248 notes · View notes

sapphicstone · 3 months

Text

Soul's flower garden | broZone x Reader.

‎ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ꒰🌱꒱ ♡ ‎ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ‎ㅤ𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚣𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚡 𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

summary: you're a gardener, so you have extensive knowledge of all the local flora.

pairings: John Dory x Reader, Spruce/Bruce x Reader, Clay x Reader, Floyd x Reader.

‎ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ‎ㅤ‎ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ‎ㅤ‎ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ‎ㅤhope you enjoy it!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ꒰🌱꒱ ♡

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ. . . . . john dory

JD drove frantically to Mount Rageous. The place where his younger brother Floyd was supposedly being held. You only knew him from the stories and photos John Dory had, you never saw him in person.

You saw when he read the letter that strangely reached Rhonda and you saw how worried he was.

Mount Rageous looked like an unhealthy place, although it seemed to be partly made of plastic or something similar.

"Wait here." John asked as he got up from the driver's seat.

"I'll go with you." You put down the book you were reading about the local flora and got up, intending to accompany him.

"No way."

And off he goes.

You've spent minutes waiting, after reading the whole book from start to finish, JD arrives with a slightly melancholy expression. He said nothing, just sat back down on the bench and turned around with Rhonda.

You didn't question him about anything in order to maintain respect. John would say an hour, in his own time.

The next day, Rhonda didn't want to walk. John Dory was explicitly worried when he turned the car around and realized that the armadillo simply refused to move. She didn't have the strength.

You both left. You were startled when you noticed the greenish tinge on the poor creature's face. As you approached her, you noticed the sickly look on her face.

"She looks terrible! She must have eaten something she shouldn't have on Mount Rageous."

"What are we going to do?" John looked even more worried.

You knew exactly what to do. Nearby there were some boldo leaves, you picked them and offered them to Rhonda, who frowned as soon as she smelled the plant.

"Come on, Rhonda! I know it looks bitter, but you have to chew it."

She obeyed. Rhonda got better a few hours later and John Dory showered you both with kisses and hugs.

You help John to stay away from plants that can cause allergies, since he loves walking through the woods and acts unconsciously most of the time.

Once he almost ate poisonous berries if you hadn't been around…

"Can I eat that?"

"If you want to swell up and explode into glitter, yes!'' One day, John was bitten by a carnivorous plant and didn't leave Rhonda for a few days. You laughed at him and he got upset.

A complete disaster when it comes to laughing plants, he hardly ever recognizes them. Lucky you know a cure for them.

He loves your knowledge of flora and constantly presents you with flowers he finds in his favorite book.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ. . . . . Spruce/Bruce

He seasons the food with plants that you take to Vacay Island.

Because it's an island, the plantation is somewhat limited, so you have to go out and explore a bit more.

Bruce goes along, he doesn't want you to get hurt while trying to pick plants to season the food sold in the restaurant.

"Do you think this would go well in soup?"

He thinks it's funny when you bring the plants close to your face and smell them to simulate a possible combination.

"No, dear. Try this one!"

"Incredibly delicious."

The best fruit salad on Vacay Island. The best drinks and juices too!

Bruce also gives you flowers and some special seedlings.

One day you told him about a flower that grows in all possible environments, even tropical ones.

Guess what? He found a way to get this flower and helped you plant it in a pot at the back of the restaurant.

Every day that flower grew more colorful and beautiful.

"My little flower" as he calls it.

"My little ones." As he calls his children if they have any.

Your house is all decorated. Flowers in pots, flowers on the ceiling, flower arrangements and the pantry is full of grains and vegetables that you grow yourself in pots for your own consumption.

He waters the plants every day when he remembers.

They all remind him of you, so Bruce doesn't feel lonely when he's away from you.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ. . . . . Clay

Clay's office has never been as colorful as it used to be.

You work in a location a little further away from all the centralization of the putt-putt village.

Because she has a vast knowledge of plants, Viva has appointed her as a "healer". Always serving teas and medicines to trolls who end up injured or sick.

Clay admires you from afar. He gives you some books that he finds interesting, even though you have a collection of them and don't need new ones.

But you think it's cute and keep it anyway.

Afternoon tea almost every day! Clay gave up his coffee addiction for a while just to enjoy his delicious herbal tea.

Clay doesn't like sweets very much, he hardly eats milkshakes and French fries. So salads with fresh vegetables are always welcome!

You stock up on fruit and fresh salad for him in a little jar, always knocking on his office door to deliver it to him.

"Lovely pumpkin." That's what he usually calls you.

"Thanks for helping to look after us!" You say with a smile.

"You do it better than me."

One day you asked him to look at your farm. He liked it so much that, thanks to this tranquillity, he began to relax a little from his work as an accountant. Of course, he was still very professional, but with a little moderation.

You taught him how to pick moon fruit. They have the shape of the star and are naturally illuminated and he keeps one of them as a lamp in his office.

That way, he always remembers how special your relationship is.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ. . . . . Floyd

Skincare!

You definitely know the best plants that can take care of trolls' delicate skin. Almost every night before going to sleep, you rub some creamy plant on their faces and talk while you wait a few minutes for it to take effect.

Floyd has some trouble sleeping. Sometimes his body aches and his mind is agitated, so you prepare some herbal tea with calming properties so that he can relax and sleep.

Your cocoon is in the most flowery tree in the countryside.

Floyd would like to learn more about the flora. He wants to talk to you about his interests and loves it when you teach him something you've recently learned.

flower crown!

But Floyd ends up sneezing from the pollen.

Special fruit pies are always on the table. He loves his homemade sweets.

Floyd puts the flowers in a vase with water. There's always room for more vases inside the cocoon.

He has learned to eat some edible flowers and now always asks you to make some refreshing salad with them.

"Please?" He begs with piteous eyes.

"Okay, Daisy." You call him that and then give him an Eskimo kiss.

The shape of Floyd's hair resembles a tulip, however.

Floyd now smells of roses. And he loves it.

౨ৎ ˖⑅ ࣪⊹ ୨୧ ˖⑅ ࣪⊹ 𝜗𝜚˖⑅ ࣪⊹ ୭ৎ ˖⑅ ࣪⊹ ୨ৎ ˖⑅ ࣪⊹ ೀ౨ৎ ˖⑅ ࣪⊹ ୨୧ ˖⑅ ࣪⊹ 𝜗𝜚˖⑅ ࣪⊹ ୭ৎ

I hope you enjoyed it and sorry for any mistakes! :') masterlist