#Amid the Frost

[gierosajie]

You ever just imagine Dyvalin getting a flower necklace by Mondstat? bc I just want him to be accepted by the people he wanted to accept him. He may not be human but he is a Mondstater in my heart

Dvalin's first experiences being yelled at and scorned when he first came down as a young child, and then over the years people became more amicable towards him, but there's still quite a distance between them as Dvalin, being a close friend of the Anemo Archon and one of the Four Winds, is still a sort of figure of worship

The wild thing is that, in the AU, Dvalin becoming a god ended up bringing him closer to mortals more than anything Venti had tried

It's something like what happened in this post about the ghosts and spirits post-Cataclysm. Mondstadters basically saw what Venti had; someone just as lost, just as scared like them but still trying their best

Anyway YES, Dvalin would indeed get a necklace of flowers! In one of my notes that I cannot for the life of me find, some of the kids post-Cataclysm tried to give Dvalin a bunch of flowers because they felt like he "needed them more than someone that won't even get to enjoy the spring anymore."

#Windblume Ode reference lol (may the springtimes you never saw mean nothing to you) #anemo archon dvalin au #ask #anonymous #anyway something about the people that see their archons in person #while Liyue looked to someone reliable‚ Inazuma witnessing what they perceive as perfection of an art #Sumeru stuck to comparing who they had lost‚ and Fontaine wanting someone firm and all knowing #Mondstadt being the independent nation towards its archon that it is- just sees someone Just Like Them #see another theme in the AU is cycles and repetition and how history often rhymes #and with Dvalin‚ it's like a parallel to how Venti had been with them during and after the rebellion #and the whole 'or was it the people who nurtured the Anemo Archon's love for freedom as they pined for it amid the howling wind and frost?' #it's like the cycle of love that passes it forward #like Mondstadters → Venti → Mondstadters → Dvalin basically #again this au is very near and dear to my heart /srs

[scribendis]

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝

Aemond Targaryen x female reader (third person perspective) ❖ husband & wife

Warnings: smut, dry humping, p in v sex, semi-public sex, newlyweds being horny, little bit of profanity, breeding kink if you squint really, really hard Rating: 18+ MDNI Word count: ~3,500

Summary: Upon returning to camp from a hunt in the Kingswood, Aemond looks for a way to keep his wife warm on a bitterly cold night.

A/N: Serendipitously conceptualized ages ago but written (very late!) for the first week of the @hotd-bigbang winter word prompts challenge - Fire | Furs | Forest

Dividers by @saradika | AO3 link

The setting sun cast long shadows across the small city of tents that made up the hunting camp in the Kingswood. While the men had spent the day combing the forest for boars, stags, and other game, the women had occupied the main tent. They gorged themselves on cakes and other sweets, all the while indulging in gossip that ranged from the salacious to the downright treasonous. 

And, much to the chagrin of the new wife of Prince Aemond Targaryen, they pestered her endlessly about the burgeoning love life of her and her husband. She quickly learned that, to be a woman in the king’s court meant sharing every last, excruciating detail of one’s “wifely duties” so that the others could compare them with their own. So that they could all know whose husbands fucked them the best and complain about their own lackluster experiences. 

They questioned her until she was beet-red in the face and one of the older women finally called for an end to her torment. Still, it would taste a lie for her to say that all their titillating conversation about lovemaking had not made her ache desperately for her husband. 

But by the time that night finally claimed the sprawling camp, the men had still not returned from the hunt. It signaled to the waiting wives that their husbands would come back without their prize, frustrated and exhausted - and that they would later fall into their beds reeking of wine. 

The call of horns and the distant sound of barking hounds was their cue to don their furs and exit the tent to greet the arriving men. The prince’s wife was glad for the fur-lined cloak that her husband had procured for her for just such an occasion as this. She was even more grateful for the garment as she exited the tent only to be met with the sting of the cold night air on her cheek. The women elected to wait for their husbands by the bonfire that raged in the middle of the camp, its light their only source of warmth as frost began to settle on the Kingswood. 

It was easy for her to spot her husband among the group of riders, his long silver hair unmistakable in the light of the rising moon. Whatever otherworldly quality his Valyrian features gave him seemed amplified tonight - and it made the sight of him astride a horse even more odd to her. Were her husband any other lord of the realm, his approach on horseback would not have seemed out of place. But Targaryens were no horse riders. Still, Aemond effortlessly commanded the steed beneath him, his mastery reminiscent of the way he would handle a dragon.

As the crowd of riders began to disperse, her eyes remained fixed on her husband. Amid the thundering of horses’ hooves and the raucous laughter of the noble lords, Aemond's attention, too, was solely focused on her. The intensity of his gaze only intensified her excitement, eliciting a gentle flutter in her belly.

With grace and ease, Aemond slipped off of the horse’s back. A waiting servant took his leather riding gloves from him, but Aemond could very well have let them fall to the dirt for as little attention as he paid to anyone but her. 

Aemond was always loath to indulge in any public affection, aside from the occasional hand at the small of his wife’s back or a brief touch upon her cheek. Even now that he was reunited with her after such a long day apart, his restraint came in the form of a soft kiss brushed against her temple and nothing more. But the way that his arm wrapped around her and his hand dared to wander much lower than her waist - and the way his eye held hers so intently - told her just how much he had missed her. How much he needed her.

Given Aemond’s usually stoic demeanor, she had never thought that he would be needy, but he had proven to be just that in the few weeks since they had been wed. They had already made love in the depths of the palace library more times than she could count, and discovered countless other hidden places throughout the Keep where his hands had found their way up her skirts and his lips had left marks on her neck. Some mornings, he would forego training altogether to stay in bed with her with his face between her legs or his cock buried inside her. 

And he had not heard a single complaint from her yet. 

“Ābrazȳrys, your skin is cold to the touch,” Aemond commented, a hint of concern lacing his soft voice. His lips lingered at her temple for a moment longer before he withdrew, taking one of her hands in his. “As are your fingers.” (wife)

She smiled. His own hand was as warm as ever. “I am no dragon like you, dear husband. The cold night air chills me to the bone.”

“And the furs I gave you do not suffice?” he asked, quirking a brow.

She shook her head. “Nor the bonfire.” 

Aemond hummed, his displeasure at such an assurance quite clear. He brought her fingers to his lips, blowing warm air on them before kissing them. “Come, jorrāeliarza. I have another idea for how we might offer you some warmth on such a cold night.” (beloved)

Still with an arm drawn around her, he swiftly guided her around the bonfire and, to her surprise, past the royal tent where food, wine, and music awaited them. She glanced over her shoulder questioningly at the entrance to the tent, from which poured an inviting golden light, but Aemond seemed determined on his path. 

“Aemond, are we… not going inside?” 

A smirk tugged at his lips, and she noticed a mischievous twinkle in his eye as they passed a flickering torch. “I thought I would spare you any further conversation with the ladies of the court.”

“And I thank you for that, dear husband,” she said with a laugh, her words falling from her lips in fleeting clouds of mist that looked like she was breathing smoke. “But I do not think–”

Aemond stopped them in their tracks and turned to her, staying any further words by sweeping in to press his lips firmly against hers. “Lykirī.” (Be calm.)

Once freed from his bruising kiss, she stood, dazed, for a moment before any further thoughts could come to her - something that her husband had certainly noticed given the grin that spread across his lips. She pushed him away playfully with a little scoff and an over-exaggerated look of annoyance that drew a rare chuckle from him.

“I am not one of your Targaryen dragons,” she protested, drawing her furs tighter around herself. “Those… dragon commands won’t work on me.”

Aemond leaned in to meet her at eye level, offering an arm to her that she took. “But it did work, did it not?”

She was still none the wiser about their destination as her husband quickly guided them beyond the boundaries of the camp and toward the treeline. The leaves had taken on stunning hues of red, orange, and yellow, a sight that she had marveled at from within the wheelhouse on their way into the Kingswood that morning. But in the cover of night, that beauty was lost to the pitch-black darkness. Not even the light of the moon could permeate the thick canopy of trees, leaving the forest an endless void. 

She did not fear the darkness, only the occasional sound of a twig snapping or the call of some unknown creature. As husband and wife disappeared from the sight of the camp, she found herself clutching onto him more tightly. 

“Aemond, where are we going?” she whispered as though speaking at full volume would topple one of the mighty trees. 

“Patience, jorrāeliarza.”

“What if there are wolves out here, Aemond–”

“There are no predators in the Kingswood. And, if there were,” Aemond turned to her and took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, brushing the pad of his thumb across her bottom lip, “do you think that I would let them harm even a single hair on your head?” He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before releasing her. “Do not worry. We can stop here.”

She glanced around, seeing the pleasant glow of the camp in the near distance and nothing but darkness everywhere else. “Here?” 

“I thought, perhaps, you would want to be a bit further from camp…” he purred. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness enough to see him lean in. One of his hands reached up to pull her furs aside and his lips found her neck, warm and soft as they began to kiss her skin. She felt his hum vibrate against her pulse point, where her heartbeat fluttered wildly. “Given how loud you can be, dōna ābrazȳrys.”

A gasp left her and her head tilted away from his lips, begging silently for more. Tomorrow would call for yet another dress with a high neckline, she thought. 

“I’ve… I’ve not heard that one before…” He regularly called her all manner of names in High Valyrian. She often found him muttering to himself in his ancestral tongue. One night, he had even spoken it in his sleep. She knew a small handful of words, but only those few. “What does that mean?”

“Sweet wife,” Aemond breathed against her neck, leaving a bit of warmth behind before his lips captured hers once again. “You taste sweet tonight, too.”

“It must be the… the wine, I think,” she gasped. “Or the lemon cakes…” 

But the growing hunger inside him was not for the sweetness of cakes or Arbor gold. 

He kissed her more deeply this time, lips coaxing hers apart to taste her tongue for himself. His hands fell to her hips, fingers digging into her soft flesh to draw her body against his. And, in doing so, he finally offered her the warmth he had previously promised her - one that not even the hottest bonfire could provide. 

As his fingers began to deftly ruck up her skirts, she felt her skin prickle. At the same time, an entirely different kind of heat began to spread through her until it found its familiar place between her legs. Moaning softly into their continued kiss, she dropped her hands to the closure of his trousers, where his obvious arousal strained against the dark fabric. 

“Gods, Aemond, you're so hard and I've barely touched you," she breathed against his lips. “Did you miss me?” But she knew the answer, and how pleasing it was to know just how badly she had been missed that day. 

His only reply was a grunt that rose in his throat as his hands slipped beneath her smallclothes and all but tore them from her. Despite the rough, calloused spots on his palms and fingers, his warm touch was a balm against the cold night air. In a swift, almost aggressive motion, he lifted her by her arse so that she had no choice but to envelop his hips with her legs. It taunted her, the feeling of his hard cock pressing against her wet entrance. His trousers were a tedious, unwanted barrier between them. 

Their passionate embrace only became more heated as Aemond pinned her to the trunk of one of the trees and his body pressed firmly against hers. She squirmed, inadvertently causing friction between her clit and his still-clothed hardness that was too delicious to keep a moan from stuttering past her lips. 

“It would seem that you missed me as well, jorrāeliarza,” he rasped with a playful smirk. Teasingly, he rolled his hips against hers to coax another one of those sweet sounds from her. “Come on. Take what you need.”

She needed no further convincing, as great as the ache between her legs had grown. Her grip on the collar of his longcoat tightened and she took over, rocking her hips against his at a slow, but steady, pace. Each gasp and moan that left her lips billowed from them in a smoke-like mist, until she tucked her head into the crook of her husband’s neck and the sounds became muffled against his throat. He smelled of horse and sweat and, if she searched for it, the soap he had used the night before. But he tasted divine as her lips began to pepper open-mouthed kisses against his skin.

Judging by the trembling breaths that she felt against her hair, this teasing was just as pleasurable for her husband as it was for her. His own grip on her arse tightened, as though he was fighting to hold on. Knowing him, he wanted only the satisfaction of spilling himself inside her. 

But his own torture would not go on for much longer, as her rutting against him was quickly bringing her to the brink of release. Her pace quickened, desperate as she was to reach it. Finally, the pleasure inside her began to unfurl and its warmth spread through her. From head to toe, it enveloped her completely as though she had been submerged into a hot bath.   

It was exactly as Aemond had promised. In the grips of her climax, the frigid air mattered little, if at all.

Gasping for breath as she came down again, she pressed her lips to his and he received her kiss greedily. No doubt he was desperate for his own release after watching her come apart - and how could she refuse him?

“You know,” she began as her hands fell to his trousers once again. Only, this time, her fingers made quick work of the closures. “Earlier, all the women wanted to know how good you are in bed.”

Their gazes locked and, even in the darkness of the forest, she could see the almost animalistic desire in his one good eye. But as desperate as he was to be inside her, he seemed almost equally as intrigued by her words. She freed his cock from the confines of his trousers and took it into her hand. Her simple act of stroking him once was enough to draw a low groan out of him.

“Fucking gossips,” Aemond replied huskily. His lips drew close to hers but did not quite meet them. “Do I wish to know what you told them?”

She grinned. Her fingers guided his cock to her slick entrance but stopped there momentarily. “I told them–” Her words were cut off by a moan as he buried himself inside her quickly and without warning. “Oh, fuck…”

“Oh, fuck?” Aemond repeated teasingly, raising a brow. “Am I so bad at it, jorrāeliarza?” The smug look of satisfaction on his face belied any attempts at fooling her into thinking that he believed that to be her true confession earlier that day. 

Too impatient, he began to move his hips against hers - and she met each of his slow, steady thrusts with movements of her own. Misty air surrounded them amid their shared panting, both of them relishing in the sensation of becoming one again after such a long day apart.

She allowed her head to fall back against the tree, where strands of her hair began to tangle in its rough bark. But she hardly noticed or cared at all, especially as her husband’s lips reclaimed her neck and his hot breaths swept along the contours of her jaw. 

“Ābrazȳrys.”

She became so lost in the carnal pleasure of his cock sliding in and out of her that Aemond’s voice barely reached her. It did not help at all that his pace began to quicken as the heat between them grew to a simmer. The cry of pleasure that left her mingled with the sounds of the forest, joining the nighttime symphony of hooting owls and the rustling of the crisp underbrush.

“What did you tell them?” Aemond pressed. His own composure was starting to fail him and his words came out strained. 

A breathy laugh left her. He always purported to care little about what the members of his father’s court thought of him. But, evidently, that sentiment did not extend to his wife and her opinions. 

She placed a hand on his cheek to pull his lips to hers, kissing him deeply as pleasure began to coil inside her anew. “I told them,” she panted, her eyes opening to meet his, “that my husband is not the one riding the largest dragon in the world.”

Whatever Aemond had expected her to say, it clearly was not that. For a moment, his hips stilled and he looked as stunned as the ladies had been when she had uttered those same words that morning. One of them had even spilled a full cup of wine down her pale blue dress as she stared at her like some startled animal. 

“My, my…” he purred.

But his look of shock fell away just as quickly. Replacing it was a ferocity that she had never seen from him before. A hunger that her words had awakened inside him which only she could satiate. There were no more soft words of love, or the usual names he called her while making love to her. His fingers dug almost painfully into her hips and he resumed his movements against her. 

Aemond quickly built up a brutal pace, the head of his cock hitting that spot inside her that made her toes curl inside her shoes. Any thoughts or complaints about how bitterly cold it was outside had been long forgotten, drunk as she was on the intensity of the pleasure he was fucking into her her. Even her moans began to leave her in choked gasps and broken mewls that, if anyone in the hunting camp heard her, would have sounded no different than the calls of some creature of the forest.

She could feel it, the straining of her muscles and the tightening of her insides. The tremble that overtook her as she hurtled toward the edge along with him. She felt like a handkerchief being squeezed of water, and he would not stop his tightening of her until he had wrung her of every last drop.  

Her eyes fluttering, she leaned in to capture Aemond’s lips in a kiss that he did not reciprocate in his own carnal pursuit of release. “Aemond…” “Mm-mm,” he chided, his tone gruffer and far lower than she had ever heard it. “I want to see you.” 

One of his hands released its grip on her arse and moved to the nape of her neck to hold her firmly and ensure she could not look away. As he watched her, he groaned deeply in his own fight to hold on until he could get precisely what he wanted. 

And it only took three simple words from him to finish her at last.

“Cum for me.” 

Like a dam breaking, all the building pleasure that had been twisting inside her released. Coaxed by the continued pounding of his hips against hers, it spread into every extremity as her body shuddered and her cries of ecstasy filled the dense, frosty air. The fluttering of her walls around him soon spelled the end for him, too. With a few more ragged thrusts, he found his release inside her.

His eye squeezed shut. His lips, kiss-swollen, parted. And then, a certain look of peace overtook him.  

Although still lost in her own haze of pleasure, she watched him closely - and she decided that he had never looked more beautiful. 

They remained in their loving embrace, neither one wanting to pull away from the other just yet. Her, with her legs still encircling his hips, and him, with one hand holding her up and the other at her neck. Aemond pressed his forehead to hers and his thumb began to caress her cheek tenderly.

She hadn’t spoken of these moments to the women of the court that day. About how her husband could fuck her within an inch of her life and, immediately thereafter, treat her with such affection and softness. With such devotion in each caress of his fingers and every soft word he uttered.

Their breathing soon began to slow once again and the world around them finally came back into view. Smiling, she brushed the tip of her nose against his before kissing him so deeply that he hummed in surprise. But he reciprocated earnestly, slowly setting her back down on the ground but never quite letting her go.

“We should return to the camp,” Aemond said as he re-adjusted her furs on her shoulders. “I would not have you catch your death out here in the cold, jorrāeliarza.”

A sweet grin spread across her lips, but something wicked glistened in her eyes. “Oh, but my husband has already given me all the warmth I require.”

#hotd winter prompts 23 #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #house of the dragon aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x you #aemond smut #aemond fic #hotd smut #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen smut #aemond #ewan mitchell fics #ewan mitchell fanfic #house of the dragon fic #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon #ewan mitchell #works by laurel

[chrollohearttags]

blow me like a candle • e. jaeger

Eren was never really a fan of parties or celebrating birthdays at all for that matter but (y/n) knows just the trick to make his special day one worth remembering.

cw: black fem reader, musician eren x influencer reader, oral sex (m/f receiving, he eats ass for like .1 seconds 😭), food play, squirting, toy use, public play, aggressive eren, mentions of car sex, masturbation, choking, overstim, kitchen sex, pet names, cumshot, breeding, (princess, daddy, baby)

wc: 4.1k

📝: y’all know I couldn’t let baby boy’s special day pass without doing something for my fav ship! Hope y’all enjoy. Happy belated to my beloved!

════ ⋆★⋆ ════════ ⋆★⋆ ════════ ⋆

“And who all did you invite?” “Just a few friends, that’s all.” “Get to naming or I’m not going.”

the expected banter between you and your fiancé had been going on for nearly an hour now. All this amid your preparations and planning for the one day a year that you’d have to all but force him to take it off.

“For real, EJ? It’s your own damn birthday party. How you not gone go?” Smacking your lips in pure frustration at your man. Honestly, you shouldn't be too surprised when dealing with someone so stubborn and ornery. For the three years that you had been together, March thirtieth seemed to be a day of dread rather than enjoyment for the disgruntled musician. Fans had already begun flooding his inbox, comments and mentions with love, adoration and fan edits of the man who brought them a plethora of hits over the years. Some even consider him the sole reason they were even on this planet. Celebrating the life of EJ the Don..you were scrambling all week, planning a party for him in secrecy, hoping to surprise the rapper but with a bit of digging and zero resolve from his assistant, he quickly discovered your plan and voided it immediately. While everyone else was showering him with love and hoping to make his twenty eighth trip around the sun a happy one, Eren was too busy being glued to his next online match and dismissing any and all talk about some extravagant party. Including his own wife to be!

“Because (y/n), it’s pointless. A bunch of people who don’t even fuck with me on a regular day, running in my face and being annoying. Why should I spend my day in a loud restaurant or looking at Jean’s ugly ass mug when I could sit right here, kick my feet up, play some COD…..” His words trailing off while pulling you toward him with a gentle grasp on your wrist. “And eat frosting off your ass. Is that too much for a man to ask?” You’d all but dismissed him, rolling your eyes as he burst into laughter. It was obvious he wasn’t going to make this easy. “I’m serious though, princess. There’s just no use in wasting time or money on something like this. I’m happy right here with you.” At the end of the day, it was his decision. But a last ditch effort at guilt tripping couldn’t hurt! Folding your arms over your chest, (y/n) pushed your lip into a pout, giving him those glaring brown eyes. The ones he could never resist or say no to. Truthfully, you wanted him to have a nice time and gather all of the people who cared about him in one place. For once, let him be the one taken care of..

“I get it, I’m sorry..” “it’s fine, I just rather—“ but before he could finish his sentence, you began in on your little tirade and even threw a few tears in to make it plausible. “I mean, I just wanted you to have a good day, that’s all..I guess it really doesn’t matter.” In the midst of your little tirade, his smile would quickly fade into a look of confusion. Now he felt bad! Here you were planning and expending all of this energy into a gathering, spending your own money and resources to give him an amazing night and he’d rather spend it playing some stupid game. Unbelievable! Refusing to see his baby upset, regardless of his better judgment, Eren released a huff and got up to console you. “Calm down, princess..alright, you win. I’ll go.” Just then, that seemingly somber glare turned to one of pure excitement! “You mean it?! Oh my goodness, I’m so happy!—“ but there was one minor stipulation he wanted to attach to this little acceptance offer. In mere seconds, that deviant grin was back plastered across his handsome face and you couldn’t help but get the sneaking suspicion that something insane was swirling around in that big ass head of his. “One condition.” The only words he uttered to grab your attention. Cradling your waist tightly and running his hand across the lower part of your stomach. “I’ll go to your party, because I know you worked so hard planning it. BUT…there is something you have to do for me..” just then, you’d freeze in his clutch, wondering what exactly this man had in mind. Granted, he would’ve been perfectly content with just you, a blunt and his PlayStation but since you were all but forcing him to participate in this little charade, he might as well be entertained while going and he knew just the trick to doing so! “What is it?…” but alas, you wouldn’t receive your answer right away. Just as you had done for him, you’d let his mind wander and contemplate what could be. Walking off towards the kitchen after parting with a peck to the cheek, Eren just burst into laughter at the thought of his own sinister plot. “ ‘EJ, stop playing. What is it?”

“I’ll tell you just like you told me..it’s a surprise.” And suddenly, you knew the next few days of anticipation of what was up his crafty little sleeve.

it wouldn’t be until the night of his much anticipated soirée that you’d find out just what he was up to! By that time, it was too late and he had surely set you up! Because what other way..what gift would be greater than to force (y/n) into sporting a controlled vibrator for the duration of the event?! Underneath your shimmery designer, thigh length dress and thin pink panties lay a discreetly hidden device..shoved inside of you and controlled by his hands. Even with the promise of wanting to do anything to make his special day the best and just genuinely happy, you couldn’t believe that this was his request! Coupled with the fact that he didn’t want to be around all of these people anyways? You were certainly in for a hell of a night. Forcing him to do social interaction; the one thing he despises most on his birthday…this was karma! So as you sat by his side at Casa Tua..across from a table of his peers as they poured alcohol and sang his praises, he was casually tapping away at his screen, tormenting you with each passing second. That silicone mashed up against your mound and whirled around in your flesh. Tiny shocks of stimulation sporadically hitting your clit. Gifts and wrapped packages surrounded the table, lavender ambience lighting scattered above you and your company as he swirled his thumb pad around and drove up the frequency, making it nearly impossible for you to keep your composure. “..you’re the worst.” “You did say you’d do whatever I wanted.” To which you had no choice but to agree. No matter how flustered you were, clenching your thighs together and chewing at your lip. Everyone around you cackling, bantering among themselves. Meanwhile, you’d keep your hands entangled around his arm, clutching each time he hit another pulse. Trying to shield your face from being spotted. “No need to hide that pretty face..let everybody see how much you’re enjoying this.” Snickering from behind his palm as he gave that small dot another spin and watched you peel over once more; clutching his arm in the process. However, he was unphased and continued sipping at his champagne flute full of Moët. That smirk riddled across his face. He only wanted you to cave so that he could inevitably risk you away but your pride wouldn’t allow it. After having made your little spectacle and pleading the case as to why he needed to be drug out of the house, you were going to pay for this!

“..why don’t you moan a lil’ bit for me, baby? Tell me how good that feels inside of you..” It was at that exact moment, the waiter began dispersing meals around the table and neither of you could focus on the delectable dishes in front of you for the fact that the only thing you wanted was to devour each other! Eren was growing farther aroused and impatient by the second. Wishing he could tear you out of that dress that had your titties looking so juicy stuffed up in it. That made the curvature of your plump ass sit just right and of course, there was that beautiful face…one he wanted to fuck relentlessly until you stained his dick with that sticky gloss. “Or better yet..say the magic words and I’ll make it stop.” All the while taunting you with higher frequencies..whispering in that low deep tone that always drove you mad with lust. Whimpering through muffled lips, (y/n) cradled your face into his shoulder blade and to play it off, he’d coil a hand around your back when the server made his way to your side. “Had a little too much to drink..lightweights.” Chuckling with the man before he walked off. Buying you a bit more time as you rutted your dripping cunt against that toy. Staining the seat of your panties in that slick…a mess he had to see for himself. Luckily for the both of you, everyone was a bit preoccupied with their own side conversations to notice that he was discreetly tugging back your thong and exposing that swollen clit to the cool elements. “…I bet you want to let it out so bad, don’t you? Ride my fingers instead…or better yet…” just then, you’d feel his middle and ring fingers swirling your swollen bud, eliciting a gasp from you. “I can give you this dick. Whatever you want, princess. All you have to do is say it. Don’t be so stubborn..” that smug look had turned into a full blown grin because he was getting an absolute thrill out of all of this. The longer you waited, the further you prolonged your own orgasm. There was no point in pretending you could handle it. “ ‘Ren..” “Say it.” So reluctantly but eventually…you’d cave! In a shrill moan, still cradling his forearm through his white button down, you’d utter the one phrase he was looking for:

“…take me home.”

.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*:.･*:｡.･*:｡.･*

thirty minutes later

after having abandoned the restaurant and all of your unsuspecting friends, the two of you jetted out of the eatery; his arm cradling you as he carried you from the establishment. From there, his plan was in motion. Funny enough, the two of you had devised your escape plan in the event that you couldn’t hold out; under the guise that you had fallen ill after one too many glasses of liquor. Putting on one hell of an act, so much so, an Oscar should’ve been seated next to his five Grammys. Either way, it worked and once valet wrangled his red McLaren to the forefront of the building, you were out of there! The brief drive home was equally as thrilling as the rush you got from potentially being caught. Whilst he maneuvered the wheel, trying to get you guys home quickly, you’d indulge him from the passenger’s seat; legs parted to either side, facing him whilst playing with that pretty pussy. Gently rubbing on yourself to release that tension building in your body. In the confines of this car, you were free to scream as loudly as possible, say whatever you please. Pumping those digits in and out, creaming all over them as you moaned for the man responsible. Even squirting and drenching his leather interior, which brought a big smile to his face. “You’re so fucking sexy, oh my god…”

so it came as no surprise when you got through the front door of your home, things only escalated…whisking you around whilst making out. Pinning you against the wall with his knee parting your thighs. Eren slid those nimble digits between your folds… whimpering and grunting against your lips. Tugging your top down and sucking on your nipples. Ravaging every inch of your body he could get his hands on..those tattooed fingers pinching, pulling and spanking you as he saw fit. Who needed two hundred dollar dinners when he could devour you as he saw fit? Naturally, it was only fitting that he take you to the kitchen, set you atop the counter and really start the party..no pun intended!

“Open those fucking legs, hurry up.” From the switch of tone in his voice, you knew for certain he was done playing these games. All night, he had been watching you strut in that tight little two piece..teasing him and practically begging for him to get that pussy. How envious he was of that Lush Vibrator being buried deep in your greedy little cunt. He could’ve had it all a lot sooner had you just let him stay home, now..it was time to put his claim on it. Not wasting another second of his precious time, (y/n) parted those thighs as far as you could spread them and held them in place with your palms. Gripping the thick of that ass and staying steady for him. It was a beautiful sight.. “..Eren, baby. I need it so bad. I need that dick..” desperately declaring as you watched him strip himself of his own clothing. “I know, baby. I got you..” Your panties tugged to the side by a finger hooked around the material and heels dangling in the air. Trust, he wanted to fulfill your desire for the both of you but there was one thing he needed before doing so. See, he had plans all night of how he wanted to go about this…the fantasy plaguing his perverted mind for days. With his shirt finally unfastened, he’d toss it to the floor, starting on his belt next as he beelined for the fridge. You already looked absolutely delectable and divine, but this would just set it over the top. When he retrieved his sought after item, you’d smirk and begin laughing when you saw what he had. “First though, let me have a lil’ taste of you.” Brandishing in his hand a canister of whipped frosting, Eren removed the top and tilted it downward, leaving a few little dots on your neck, nipples..along with a trail going down your exposed stomach. Even leaving a few on your asscheeks. Pink confectionery laden across your beautiful dark skin..it was the sweetest treat he could ask for. Bending down, he’d grasp your chin lightly and shove his tongue into your mouth, flinging it around as you engaged in sloppy kisses. It was almost criminal how badly he wanted you..cupping your breasts in your palms, you’d watch him closely as he lowered his head to begin lapping up those tiny piles of frosting. Slowly, he’d twirl his tongue around your perky mocha nipples; softly suckling them off. (Y/N) trailed those freshly done nails through his hair. Those narrowing eyes glaring at him as he glided down your body.

“Mmphm!” Sharply exhaling in reaction to his careful movements. He could tell that you were thoroughly enjoying this little display of foreplay. “I’ve been waiting all night for this..” Slowly but surely swiping up the sugary trail, all the while keeping his gaze fixated on you. It wasn’t until he reached your mound did he pick up that can once more and dot your clit with the same substance. “Let me see your hands, baby?” Cooing to you in that sweet tone as he intertwined your fingers and shifted his focus to your slit, slurping on those delightful juices; stirred up by all the teasing. The mixture of your natural taste and that subtle sweetness of that frosting intermeshed for a delicious flavor. He was in absolute bliss at the moment, enjoying every bit of that body that he had been denied all evening. Because of that, he was going to ensure that he ate your pussy until his jaws locked up. For his own pleasure and you could come, cry and whatever else you felt necessary but this was his right now. “Hnghhh!! ‘Ren…oh shit. Right there..eat this pussy..” He’d continue on, spitting down into those folds and your entrance, being stretched open by his two free fingers. Whilst the two of you held hands, he’d greedily feast, making loud moaning noises and vibrating against your plump lips. Soon, he’d turn his attention to your decorated backside and licked it clean; gently flicking his tongue across your asshole momentarily. By this time, your nectar was trickling down his chin and even to his throat; that bobbing Adam’s apple jumping as he drank in your divine mixture. Eren was so enamored that he didn’t want to come up for air even..only to praise you for doing so good for him. “Keep putting in my face, princess..mmm, fuck..” meanwhile, you had no idea just how hard you had gotten him through the concealment of those pants. Hearing the sounds of your smacking wetness and little voice calling out for him. He’d proceed to tongue fuck and give you insurmountable pleasure, so much so that you reached another orgasm, but it was right before you could make it to a third did he cease and come up for air. His mouth and cheeks eventually stained in that syrupy sex. “C’mere..” demanding in a breathy wind as he clutched your throat and meshed your mouths together.

with the opposite set of digits, he’d undo the button of his black pants and tug his boxers down his waistline. That thick cock; swollen and throbbing with desire for you. “I want you so bad…want you so fucking bad..” by this time, becoming quite needy as he gripped his shaft and drug it across that aching cunt. Glaring with watchful eyes, (y/n) nibbled at your bottom lip in anticipation and Eren had no plans to keep you waiting for long! “..Take it…” “..give me that pussy. Open it up f’r me..” using your fingers to part that pretty slit open and seconds later, his tip made home inside of you.. “f-fuck!” Normally, he’d be gentle and all for going slow..taking his time but after being edged along for teased, he was about to tear your shit up! The initial sensation catching him up a bit until he gained a rhythm and the two of you finally found yourselves in sync. That leg draped over his shoulder and shook as he began to thrust. In and out..feeding you a couple deep ones, only to draw out some of that silky cream. Pumping until he was able to fit half way. “..you gonna let me have this pussy, baby? You can take more, I know you can. ‘S so tight..” baiting you along with that sweet charm, all while choking you out for added stimulation. He didn’t let you take your eyes off of him for one second, wanting to see each of those beautiful reactions. Even when you began to shed a small tear and whimper. “You can take this dick f’r me, can’t you? Let me put that shit in your stomach? That’s the only gift I want..” “..mmmm..yeah. I can take it, daddy. Give it to me!” Begging him to increase his speed and beat your shit sore if that’s what he desired. Luckily, you didn’t have to wait long before he hit his stride. You’d find yourself clutching the sides of that countertop, bracing yourself for that brutal pounding. The sounds of your rough love making ringing throughout the room, all that passion and affection coursing between your sweat riddled bodies. “Right there, right there! Please don’t stop, ‘Ren! I’m gonna come.” That much apparent by the tight clutch of your cunt around his shaft. That milky white sheath coating him…but he knew what was coming next and he couldn’t wait to feel it. So much so, he’d massage your clit and bait you on.

“Squirt on this dick then..come all over it..” Coaxing out that sticky rain as he swiped his fingers across your bud and let it spray his lower abdomen. Your body shook violently in reaction to that pent up orgasm. The third one you’d experienced tonight and you weren’t sure how many more you could handle. However, your husband-to-be was going to put it to the test! “Thaaat’s my girl. But you’re not done..I know you got more.” Gritting his teeth and grunting in your ear. Giving you only seconds to adjust before folding you yet again and doubling down, folding you into a bit of a mating press to really pound your pussy. “AHH! Fuck, fuck…” making you yelp in an excessively high pitched voice as your skin smacked and collided in a fury. His entire pelvis soaked in slick as he slammed those full balls against your backside. The two of you were making a beautiful, aggressive, mess…letting him have all of you was more than he could ask for on a day like this! Soon though, you wouldn’t be the only one reaching climatic bliss as you felt him swelling up inside of that tight womb. “Imma—imma nut in that fucking pussy!” “Come in me, ‘Ren! Nut in this pussy, daddy!” Emptying his sack shortly thereafter and letting the remnants spill into you. Both of you releasing ear shattering cries simultaneously.. “..oh my God..” “..oh shit.”

even so, that still wasn’t all he had in the tank! Once he pulled out, letting the pulsating shaft hit the cool air; withdrawing from your sore warmth to give it a break. “..yeah, I need that throat now. Clean me off, baby.” And you were thrilled to oblige! Helping you to the floor, placing you on your knees, Eren positioned himself in front of you and kept that hair reigned back as he let you work your magic. “..you’re so fucking pretty..gone let me fuck this face..” just in pure awe of how gorgeous you looked, despite being put through the wringer by him. With tear stained eyes and running makeup, you’d laugh and ask that he pass you the frosting. Now it was his turn to be devoured and sucked up. The best finish to an already wonderful night. You were so thankful that he whisked you away from that party now! Tilting that canister up, you’d spray a single line across his aching cock and quickly slide your tongue across it shortly thereafter. “Mmmmm..yeah..see how good you taste?” Nodding your head as you began bobbing it back and forth. Cleaning up your mixture of cum and the pink cream splattered all over his lower half. You didn’t even need hands..taking him to the hilt in the back of your throat only moments after beginning. Eventually, you’d start implementing twisting palms and drawing out not only more of his moans but the remainder of that nut as well. “Are you going to come for me?..come all in this mouth?” Fluttering those adorable eyes that made him weaker than he already was. (Y/N) would open your mouth wider, preparing yourself to be drenched in that warm seed. You knew he couldn’t withstand it much longer. That thumping was growing by the millisecond and as you’d twist him around in your palms..”OHHH! FUCK…”

you’d find yourself absolutely saturated in that hot white semen. Covering your face, mouth and titties..to which you’d proudly parade with a wide smile on your face. Wiping it clear from your eyes with his thumb, Eren would lean down and give you the biggest kiss he had mustered all night. He couldn’t believe the aftermath of what you two had created. But you both could do nothing but burst into laughter..

“Damn..kinda went overboard, huh?”

“You think so?” regardless, his happiness was your main concern and giving him the best present a man could ask for. He couldn’t imagine celebrating any other way!..grasping your chin once more, he couldn’t help but to keep showering you with pecks, even after swallowing his cum.

“Hey..happy birthday, baby..” Knowing that dinners, expensive gifts..whatever, nothing else could top this.

#aot x black reader #black fem reader #black reader #musician eren #musician x influencer au #cherry’s fics 🍒 #eren x black fem!reader #musician au #birthday fic #happy birthday eren #black reader smut #smut fanfiction #eren x black reader #eren jaeger x black reader #aot au #eren x black y/n #eren jaeger fic #eren x black reader smut #eren jaeger headcanons #eren jaeger x black fem reader #eren jaeger x black reader smut #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger imagines #eren jaeger #black fanfiction #eren imagines #black fanfic writer #aot modern au #aot smut

[hastyprovocateur]

Pine Soap (Modern!Abby × Reader)

Summary- Abby and reader hop in for a quick shower

Word count-1.5k

Cw- sexual content, mature themes, fluff

• The tap water runs tepid as you twist the faucet on, letting its steady stream run over your hand. It nearly lulled you back to the cozy bed you just got out of. You force your eyes open, sleepy fingers wiggling for your brush. It sat next to Abby’s in the ceramic container embossed with both your initials. A silly couples project you did as housewarming. It stood now as a hearty reminder of how it all fell together, holding a red brush and a blue one.

• You smile at the letters, dousing your brush with toothpaste before jamming it in your mouth. The morning sun streamed through the bathroom sky light, bathing the whole tiled space in a halo-like glow. You rinse yourself, peering into the mirror. You pull the neck of your robe aside to assess the fresh hickey on your neck as the sharp spray of the shower water came on in the back.

• Abby had monopolised the stall after her workout, the frosted partition exposing her beautiful body as steam rose out the top. It was all too tempting. You sidle up to the door, knocking on it to garner her attention. She notices, giving you a small wave from behind. You waved back, placing your open palm against the glass. She mirrors you, placing her hand right against yours. Eventually, she slid the partition open.

• “God, you’re naked” you squeal as she tries to grab you, wet hands firm around your sleeve. She draws you back, nuzzling into your neck amid protests. “You’re soaking my robe!” you complain half-heartedly as she cocoons you in her big arms, leaving damp patches everywhere. “Then take it off” she mumbles like a scolded child into the top of your hair, loosening the knot you had tied before. You pull away to look back at her with chagrin, but it was hard to stay mad. Her honey-colored hair had turned dark, sticking to the sides of her face, neck, and down her back. Water beaded on her lashes, the tip of her nose and chin.

• You huff in reprimand as Abby chuckled, giving you a once over with her arm slung on your waist. Closing the space between your bodies. “Don’t look at me like that” her smile fades, leaning down to slowly push the robe down your shoulder, pressing her damp lips against your smooth shoulder, making you flinch. You gently grab her neck, pushing her away as she returned to that same spot she abused last night. You wince softly from the dull ache below the skin. “I did that?” Abby exhaled, circling the tip of her tongue around the bruise.

• You shiver, pulling your shoulder to your chin as you raise your hands up against her chest. “Shower with me” Abby urged, voice next to a whine. “You get rough…” you object softly, but she shakes her head firmly, bowing her head to meet your eyes “I’ll be good” she assures you. You close your eyes, feeling the wetness reach your skin through the thin fabric, finally relenting. Abby watched as the silk unsheathes your curves, puddling on the tiles, along with your underwear. She drew you in with a firm hand on the small of your back.

• The warmth made you nearly slump into her, resting your head on her chest as the hot water ran down your back, soaking your hair. Abby held your face, pushing her hands back into your scalp and cradling the crown of your head as you hooked your arms around her shoulders to keep from buckling. “Is that right?” she laughed, watching you sway against her. You smile “It’s perfect” pressing the side of your face into her collarbone. The pumping of her heart spelled home, reverberating through your body.

The safest you could ever feel.

• Abby kissed the top of your head, slowly collecting your hair at the side of your neck, nuzzling the side of her face against yours. Her hands trail down your spine, resting at your waist. She folded you within herself, lifting you up and inhaling the scent of your body deep into her senses. The sun seemed to follow you into the bath, turning your bodies gold as it washed over you in dapples and streaks. You peer up at Abby’s face, chin pinned to her chest. At her eyes. One deep in the shadow, one baby blue from the light.

• Bubbles slipped through your fingers as you lathered her waist-length, blonde hair with bath gel, the soapy suds swirling in her strands. Its pine scent wove itself into the rising steam, smelling sweet to the nose and bitter on the tongue. You reached behind her neck, combing your fingers in gentle circles at the back of her scalp. Abby craned low to press the tip of her nose to yours, kissing your cheek. Her hands swept up your butt, rubbing across your hips and up your back, holding you tighter. The creamy foam oozed, rolling down your curves.

• “Ow” Abby winced, causing you to panic and check her eyes for soap. She wheezed, getting a kick out of rousing you for nothing. You smack the side of her shoulder, pouting as she pulled you back under the water, rinsing you off. You rest your arms on Abby’s shoulders, raising your eyes up at her as she stares back, lips parting as she tilts her face to kiss you. The water rinses you, enveloping you like warm sheets. You pull back to breathe only to get drawn back in, her arms encircling your waist like fetters. You whimper in her embrace, dragging your leg up her side. Feeling faint. Exhilarated.

• You slip down her front, hands latching onto her breast and her hip as you fell to your knees. Abby stroked your head, gently pinning your wet hair back as you kissed her folds, closing your eyes at the familiar taste, the hue and touch of it known to you like the back of your hand. Hands curling around her butt, gripping her cheeks as you relished her, forcing yourself into her deep and firm.

• Abby gulped; breath jagged as her knees quivered ever so slightly. Her pleasure was no secret to you. You applied your tongue relentlessly, your chin and lips soaked with her arousal. Eventually, you felt her squeeze, finishing in your mouth, flooding the insides of her thighs. Abby flushed pink, cheeks aglow both with the orgasm and the hot water. “That good?” you cock your chin with a grin, embarrassing her.

• A gasp escapes your lips as she yanked you back up, your knees turning red. She flipped you against her body, back pressed against her front as she reached around. “Baby… ” you hold her arm as she ventures between your thighs, her fingers into your depth, burrowing deep in that soft, sweet place. Her other arm wraps around your breasts, squeezing them. You buckle at the hips, heels lifting off the ground as you throw yourself back into her, feeling every muscle flex as she had her way with you.

• “That good?” Abby teased you back, her fingers sliding in and out of you. You feel the shape of them against your walls, curling slowly to reach that place within. A physical reminder that you knew her inside out as she did too. It made you teeter on your toes as you dug your fingers into her arm to steady yourself, leaving red marks. You screw your eyes shut, feeling her lips finding your neck, your weakness. Her lips dragged across the older hickey, finding home for a new one.

• “Aaah” it burnt in the most pleasurable way possible, driving you all the way through. Abby’s hips melded into you; nipples erect against your shoulder blades as she used your writhing body to massage herself. Her groans blow down your neck, raising your hair on end. You clench your legs close, stiffly working yourself onto her fingers.

You finish pathetically, head rolling weakly on her chest as she held you still. It rose and fell at the pace of yours. You watch as Abby twisted the shower knob close with one hand, holding you in the other. “Let’s dry you up” she fervently kissed the side of your face, pulling her towel from the bar and shrouding you in it.

• You peer into the bathroom mirror, clothed in fresh underwear with your hair still damp. “Dammit” you groan as the fresh, red hickey on your neck next to the old one. You look down at your knees, finding two oval red patches on the caps “I told you!” you point to them incredulously, turning around to complain.

• Abby stopped mid-swipe as she put on deodorant, smirking at you “I mean… look at us” she shrugged, exposed aside from the towel around her waist, damp hair flowing down her back. Abby's arms, shoulders, chest, and hips were peppered with your hand marks “Can’t do much about it” she smiled. “Wow…” you trail with your hands on your hips, exhaling in defeat before walking out. Abby piped after you. Joyful as ever.

“if you can’t hide em, own em, baby!”

#abby the last of us #abby anderson #abby anderson headcanon #abby smut #abby tlou #tlou #abby anderson headcanons #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou fluff #tlou smut #tlou2 smut #abby anderson x reader #abby x reader #abby x fem!reader #abby x you #abby anderson tlou2 #abby tlou2 #tlou 2 #abby headcanons #abby anderson x female reader

[pacifymebby]

Christmas Eve

Part of my Christmas/2k celebration!!

Also just a side note for Alfie's, I based this on Christmas/Hanukkah celebrations I've been involved in before, I'm sorry if it's not accurate to other people's personal experiences of like mixed culture it's just how it's worked for us in the past... I didn't want to just ignore Alfie's Jewishness

Tommy

🌿Beneath Tommy's cold exterior is a family man, he's just very good at keeping it hidden beneath all those defensive layers... And he believes Christmas is a precious time, a time that should be spent with family... 

🌿And as much as he grumbles about having to host his whole family every year at Arrow House, Tommy wouldn't have it any other way...

🌿So Christmas Eve at Arrow House is a busy day, a day brimming with anticipation, that buzz in the air, expectancy, waiting for loved ones to arrive, the children excited to see their cousins, uncles, aunts...

🌿 And amid the hustle and bustle, the trickle of arriving guests who have come to stay for the holidays, Tommy will manage to slip away unnoticed for a little while... he'd have business to attend to, things he just has to see through before the new year...

🌿 And whilst in the morning his absence is excusable, and whilst in the afternoon you're far to wrapped up in overseeing the last minute changes to menus, to guest bedrooms, to present wrapping and attending to the needs of your excitable little ones, as the evening draws in Tommy's absence will become unignorable...

🌿 But you're not surprised and neither is Ada, neither are any of the wives, neither is Arthur who is supposed to be dressing up as Santa for the youngens but is waiting for his absent brother to phone through...

🌿 Tommy promised to be home early for the kids so you're getting worried. Ada is all eye rolls and Polly is tutting "that fuckin man and his fuckin business..." but you're getting scared that he isn't coming home at all...

🌿 Now the kids are obviously very excited because its christmas eve, so you haven't been able to settle them at all...

🌿 They're running around the house with their cousins playing at being daddy, pretending to shoot eachother, pretending to die and although usually you'd tell them off, try to tell them that thats not what their daddy does, tonight their laughter is so sweet you just let them carry on playing

🌿And their excitement is catching, it's hard to be too fearful when the tree is sparkling and there's frost in the air outside, when Ada and Polly have mixed up fancy gin cocktails and John keeps catching you beneath the mistletoe teasing you, telling you to take your chance whilst your husband's away...

🌿 There's that joy, that magic, that warmth, the family is together, the children are as innocent and as gleeful as you could possibly hope them to be... And in your heart you know that your stupid husbands coming home to you, that all will be well...

🌿 So even though you should be mad at him for breaking his promise and being late really you're just looking forward to him coming home, to throwing your arms around him, to having him catch you under the mistletoe and brush a chaste kiss over your lips before the kids can see you and start making sick noises.

🌿And when Tommy does finally come home the children nearly knock him over, barrelling into him. Your oldest pretends to shoot him for being late and breaking his promise...

🌿 So Tommy pretends he's shot, drops to his knees all dramatic in the doorway, his 'last words' tell your mother I love her very..." and when he closes his eyes and pretends to die the kids all clamber on him and demand that he wakes up... and he does but only because they're tickling him and he can't resist jumping back to life, snatching them up and making them jump and squeal and laugh.

🌿 finally they and him settle down, he says hes sorry for being late, hugs and kisses the children and then you, saying he's sorry an extra time, just to you, hand cupping your cheek as he looks you deep in the eyes, one of those, melt your heart, don't be angry with me, kind of looks

🌿And you can't be angry at him...

🌿He'd be able to settle the children so fast, getting them ready for bed with you and tucking them in. Telling them to be good or father christmas might change his mind about visiting them

🌿 But then seeing their little faces drop and chuckling, "no, of course he won't forget about you, little angels the lot of you, I reckon you're all right at the top of Father Christmas' list eh?"

🌿 "So we'd better get you up to bed eh? He'll be here soon and you'll want to be fast asleep in your beds when he gets here..."

🌿 As you go to follow the children up to the nursery Tommy catches your hand and tugs you back to the doorway, "and where do you think you're going in such a hurry love?" His fingers link closely with yours as he nods to the doorframe above you both, his smirk a little cheeky as you follow his gaze and see the mistletoe dangling above you...

🌿 When you tell him he isn't the first person to try it on with you under the mistletoe that evening, that if he'd been just one more minute late you'd have kissed his brother instead, he chuckles, "well I suppose I'd better make up for all that lost time eh?"

🌿 Closing your eyes when he kisses you, smiling into his lips as he lets them linger, your hand on his chest, you can feel his body heat warming you, his hold feels like home... When you pull away startled by the sound of the children calling for you Tommy pulls you back for one more kiss...

🌿 "Wait, there we go, just one more moment of peace..." he says quietly kissing you again, holding you close.

🌿 The children love it when he reads them the night before christmas, they're almost always half asleep by the time he's finished, your youngest sitting in his lap, drooling on him...

🌿 Watching him stroke their hair and kiss their heads,whispering to them little good nights and "love you"s before the two of you turn out the light and go back downstairs...

🌿He was late because he'd picked up last minute gifts for you, so he'd be trying to send you up to bed before him "go on angel, warm it up for me eh..."

🌿 He's probably so relieved to get into bed with you that evening, he'd wrap his arms around you and sigh, completely content and happy.

🌿Christmas always leaves him feeling grateful for everything he has, getting into bed with you and holding you close reminds him all the more of everything he has, how important you and the children are... He would still be a little preoccupied thinking about the morning, excited to see the children's faces when they see that father Christmas has been, looking forward to the way you'll kiss him when you open your gifts.

🌿Tommy will be the last one who falls asleep that night, he's too busy making the most of the peace, the bristling excitement in the air, just enjoying the feeling of you in his arms, knowing the whole family is together, safe and sound and full of joy. 

Alfie

🐻 Alfie is only be celebrating christmas because you celebrate christmas, otherwise to him its not really a very important day at all. More than that it's "a fuss about nothing!" And a "tiresome inconvenience if you ask me little ziskeit, don't know why anyone bothers with it all..."

🐻 Every year it's always the same... Alfie promises he won't be grumpy this December, he promises he'll try to embrace the Christmas Spirit and be "merry and bright my little ziskeit, that's me, that's your Alfie ain't it, merry and bloody bright..."

🐻 But every year Alfie seems to be more grumpy than the last, grumbling and stropping about every tiny inconvenience, the market is always busier this time of year and he can't go out without bumping into people, getting jostled in the crowds... and his frustrations lead to some very comical rants about Jesus Christ and how he must have been one narcissistic baby to demand such a fuss...

🐻 By Christmas Eve you've just about had enough of his ranting and raving, all his grumbling and stropping, so just when he's about to go off on one all over again you stop him, arms crossed over your chest, face like thunder, eyes so steely and determined as you scold him for being such a grump that he stops dead in his tracks...

🐻 "Alright that's it, Alfred I've had enough!" Alfie can't keep the stunned smirk off his lips, he can't believe his little ziskeit is standing up to him... "Oh? What's this then are you tellin me off poppet? Are you gonna give your old man a piece of your mind?" He just sits down in his arm chair, one leg crossed over the other, hands resting on top of his cane, looking up at you expectantly...  "Well go on then ziskeit, you give your old man a firm talkin too, tell me what a miserable, rotten old miser I'm being... don't hold back my darlin, don't try to spare my feelings eh, do your worst poppet..." it's like he's challenging you, waiting to see what you'll say but you've really had enough... all you want is a cosy, merry little Christmas...

🐻 "Don't tease me Alfie!" You sniff trying to remain indignant, trying not to get emotional as you hold your chin up high, "all I wanted yeah, was one peaceful little Christmas right and you promised Alfie, you promised youd try and get into the spirit of things this year but all you've done all bloody month is..."

🐻 You trail off when you hear him sigh, when you see that warm teasing glow in his eyes, he's smiling softly, watching you as you try to continue scolding him... Then he pushes himself up and walks slowly to you, takes your hips in his hands and guides you a pace into his body, looking down at you, expectantly, patiently waiting for you to be done with your own ranting and raving... And when you trail off and look at him you understand...

🐻 "Now then? Do you reckon you're finished tellin me off now poppet? Reckon your old man might be allowed to get a word in now yeah? Even if he is a mean old grump?" He's still teasing you and your blush is furious as he takes your cheek in his calloused hand and strokes your face with his thumbs, "my my you don't half get yourself in a tizz about these things do ya ziskeit, all this fuss over one bloody day..."

🐻 "Ain't just any day though is it Alf, s'christmas an it only comes once a year an I wanted it to be perfect... Not just for me but for the kids you know..."

🐻 "And it will be my little ziskeit, it will be... You trust me on this yeah, good old Father fuckin Christmas'll make sure everything's perfect..." he says reaching behind his chair for a tatty brown sack, slinging it over his shoulder and shooting you a wink...

🐻 Because Alfie does this every year too... Kids on that he hates Christmas, that he thinks the whole things a big old waste of time... Pushes you to your absolute limits, waiting for the day your fierce but rare temper bursts only to chuckle and pat you affectionately on the cheek before saying something stupid like "Ho Ho Fucking Ho and all that right..."

🐻Because actually he doesn't dislike Christmas as such, he just dislikes watching you get yourself so flustered about what is essentially just one day... He doesn't see the point in how rushed off your feet you get, how worried, how high your blood pressure must sore.. for just one day... A day you couldn't ruin if you tried.

🐻 He would try to help you with things like wrapping presents for the children but he wouldn't be very good at it at all, so it would be obvious who had wrapped what, his presents will hardly even be in the paper and honestly, sometimes you find yourself having to redo his poor attempts at wrapping.

🐻 Your Christmas traditions are mixed with Hanukkah traditions, you light the Menorah together for each of the eight nights of Hanukkah, you make donuts together (he fusses over you when it comes to frying them fretting about you burning yourself on the oil) he fills the house with joyous and spirited traditional music and teaches you and the children to play Dreidel (often making a grumbling fuss when he ahs to hand his Hanukkah Gelt over to whoever just won it off him)

🐻 He enjoys the irony of the whole Christmas thing, grins and laughs at himself when he sits down to read his children a christmas themed bed time story. He thinks its amusing because by now he knows it by heart...

🐻 Tells the kids that their father christmas doesn't like milk and cookies, he likes a drop of rum and some rugelach instead...

🐻 He will sit with the kids as they're falling asleep, he'll sing them a low, gentle little lullaby and stroke their little heads, Alfie has a calming presence which settles them, he's like a big soft teddy bear watching over them and when he wants them to settle down and drift off he can soothe their excitement in minutes... And on Christmas Eve he wants nothing more than to see them all settled because he knows that when he goes back downstairs looking for you he'll find you still busy, still fussing... And he wants to make sure you relax and enjoy the most important day of the year "allegedly"

🐻 He'll stop in the living room doorway, his body a big shadow blocking out the lamplight... he doesn't have to say anything to let you know he's there... you're sitting on the floor trying to wrap last minute gifts and make sure everything's perfect... he just tuts at you and shakes his head...

🐻 "Tsk tsk little ziskeit, you're breakin your promises this evening ain't ya... see I don't know if you remember right, well.. you can't possibly remember cause if you did then I'm sure you wouldn't just be breakin em willynilly now would you poppet... do you remember what you promised me this time last year?" You do remember what you promised him but you're determined you won't be admitting that tonight... Alfie however has other ideas.

🐻 He'll beckon you up and over to him with his finger, nod for you to come right up close. Then he'll take your hips in his hands and guide you back a pace, settling pulling you down into his arm chair with him, holding you firmly in his lap, "There we go that's better back where you belong right, that's better... now then where were we? Right... yeah, you were going to tell me all about that promise what you made me on Christmas day last year... weren't you ziskeit..." when you remain silent he chuckles and shakes his head, "oh no no no that won't do, nah... it won't... my darlin ziskeit what you seem to be forgettin right is this... only the naughtiest of naughty girls break their promises right... and on this very important evening even the worst yeah, even the most rotten of young ladies will keep her promises right... cause if she don't yeah well she might just find a lump of coal waiting for her in the morning yeah .. what dya reckon my little ziskeit? That what you want is it? A nasty old lump of coal?"

🐻 "One of these days I'll give you a nasty old lump of coal Alfie Solomons" you flower up at him so sulky and sullen he can't keep the grin off his face because he thinks you look adorable like that..

🐻 But although he chuckles and laughs along, lets you tease him too he still makes you promise that you're going to relax and let yourself enjoy the day too...

🐻 "If you're going to get so worked up about it, I'll call the whole bloody day off..." he will literally threaten to cancel Christmas, he's only teasing but it's a joke he never tires of especially when you start threatening him back, "I'll cancel you in a bloody minute Alfred now get over here and help me with this bloody bird!"

🐻 He will spend the rest of the evening hovering around you, telling you to let him take care of everything (you absolutely won't be doing that) but after another hour he's managed to help you with all the finishing touches and he's coaxing you up to bed...

🐻 "Now come on my little ziskeit, what do I have to do to make you see sense... You know how this works you are the angel who taught me all this madness after all... If you don't go to bed and get your beauty sleep old Saint Nick just won't come... Will he? So poppet, this is my suggestion yeah, just a gentle suggestion yeah, come straight from my heart because right, because I care about you very much and because your old man is getting very very tired... Why don't you an me yeah, why don't we go upstairs now and tuck ourselves up nice an snug in bed because I'm not daft yeah, I know how this works by now... In a few hours time those little terrors will be jumpin on our legs to wake us up won't they...."

🐻 And you know he's right so you give in and roll your eyes and let him take you up to bed. Before you go to sleep you make him promise not to be too grumpy in the morning, he makes you promise you'll relax.

Arthur

🍂 Definitely promised you he would come straight home from work, definitely promised he wouldn't stop in the Garrison with his brothers and the lads from the office...

🍂 Definitely does stop in the pub on his way home... Everyone was in such high spirits leaving that evening and Arthur doesn't want to miss out on the celebrations... Besides, he'll only have one.. and he's got all Christmas to spend with you and the little ones...

🍂 And of course this is Arthur so he doesn't only have one... but he doesn't get too drunk either and he doesn't stay out too late because he loves the excitement at home on Christmas Eve and he doesn't want to miss out on all that fun either...

🍂 So he walks home a little merry and he stops in the garden to build a snowman outside the children's bedroom window. You can hear him scuffling about outside and when you catch a glimpse of him through the kitchen window you roll your eyes... why the fuck did you marry such a big kid?

🍂 But you trust your husband's up to something and you don't want to ruin whatever surprise he has planned for the kids so you shut the curtains and go upstairs to check on the little ones who are brushing their teeth and getting ready for bed. You know they're dragging it out because they're waiting for their dad to come home...

🍂 You sneek outside to try and coax Arthur indoors out of the freezing cold, wrapping your arms around yourself as you whisper to try and get his attention... "Arthur... Arthur bloody Shelby what the fuck are you doing out here come on it's freezing!" And when he hears you he raises his hands in surrender, promising you he isn't drunk... which doesn't exactly reassure you...

🍂 "Eh love, don't suppose you've got a carrot you can spare me eh? For the kids?" He nods to his snowman and you can't do anything but roll your eyes and pretend not to be amused... you are though, you think he's so silly but you love him for it, love him for how much he loves the kids...

🍂 So you give him the carrot and then you drag him inside out of the cold, kissing him and rubbing his arms to try and get him warm... Of course when the lids hear the door close they come running downstairs overflowing with excitement because dad's home "finallyyy!"

🍂 You can't believe how they've shot from being almost settled, drifting off in the arm chair together, to bright as little stars, fizzing up and bubbling over shouting and jumping and tugging on his sleeves when he does his best father Christmas voice.

🍂 Arthur scooping his little ones up in his arms, getting excited with them, winding them up asking them if they're excited for all their lovely presents, asking them what they've left out for Father Christmas...

🍂 But one look at you and the realisation that you're starting to look a little worn out and like you might need your own bed very soon gets him to settle down, gets him to try and calm the little ones again...

🍂 to save himself from your potential frustration that he'd caused such a commotion he'd be trying to charm you into giving him a smile and softening on him again, stealing a kiss from you under the mistletoe and pinching your cheek, teasing you...

🍂 "lighten up my darlin its Christmas eve... Eh you'd better turn that frown upside down my sweetheart or father christmas won't have any presents for you..."

🍂 To try and get the kids into bed he'd do things like pretend he can hear father christmas on the roof, or he'd tell them that whilst he was out he saw something in the sky that looked just like a sleigh... "so you'd better hurry to bed my darlins cause you know what will happen if father christmas comes and you're still awake... Coal! Coal for the lot of ye little rascals..."

🍂 Remembers his snowman outside and tells the kids to look out of their window, "Now you know who he is don't you you little rotters, he's one of old father Christmas's spies... I mean helpers and he's come to make sure you lot are all tucked up in bed fast asleep... So you'd better get yourselves up them wooden hills hadn't you... Come on my darlins chop chop.."

🍂 He's definitely been out last minute Christmas shopping for gifts for you and has to try and slip them under the christmas tree before you see them... He also had to wrap them last minute and he's not wonderful at gift wrapping when he isn't drunk and in a rush...

🍂 When you gather the kids in bed to read them a bedtime story he wants to listen too and climbs into bed with you all... He definitely gets a little too comfy snuggled under the blankets with you all and falls asleep during the story which the children find highly amusing.

🍂 Perhaps the children should leave a nice glass of water out of father christmas this year?

John

🌼 A huge child about Christmas, really he is just a big kid at heart and he's just as excited about christmas as the children... he's definitely not helping to calm them down or get them settled in bed that's for sure!

🌼 Instead he comes home for his work that evening with pockets full of sweets for them and lets them eat as many as they like... Pinching some for himself too...

🌼 Being too sentimental for his own good he hardly stopped in at the pub with the lads, let them "force" one whiskey down him, one which he downed slammed on the table and then announced to the room that he was off home because unlike the rest of them he's a "highly responsible father"... So he was laughed out of the Garrison naturally...

🌼 When he comes home he throws the sweets into the air letting them rain down over the children who dance and jump at his feet, all of the scrambling to catch and father as many as they can...

🌼 All you can do is watch and let yourself get wrapped up in the craziness of it all too... you already know there's no trying to tame your wild little family, especially not when John's talking the lead like this...

🌼 He'll tease them telling him he saw some of father christmas's elves in the garden, that they told him there'll be no toys for the shelby children this year...

🌼 But your children are smart and they know their daddy is just being silly. Which they won't be shy about telling him, pointing at him, giggling and arguing with him, dragging you into the argument too begging you to "tell daddy not to be so stupid!"

🌼 He's really done it now and the children are feral, together they wrestle him down to the ground and threaten him with lots of tickles and other terrors if he doesn't take it back... And of course John lets them win. He can't breath for laughing so hard and neither can you.

🌼 When you finally stop laughing at the mess he's gotten himself into you manage to convince him the children need to go to bed, he'll tell them that actually the elves told him they're waiting for the shelby children to go to sleep so that father christmas can come and deliver all their presents.

🌼 So the children will finally go to bed, they'll leave a wee carrot for the reindeer and a little treat for father christmas too, and they'll leave a little path of destruction for you and John to tidy up once they're tucked up and asleep... One which you inform John he can tidy up by himself... One which you know you'll be tidying up together.

🌼 John, more than the children, will be begging you to read the night before christmas... It's a little family tradition you have been doing since the first Christmas you stayed with the Shelby's and told it to all the Shelby children to settle them when the rest of the family had an emergency meeting. You've always been a little shy to read it in front of John but every year he insists just the same... "Voices and all!"

🌼 When you challenge him and say "why doesnt daddy read it this year?" he just pouts and says "i think mummy does it better what do you think children, doesn't your mummy read it wonderfully..." He has that mischievous twinkle in his eyes, one you can't say no to and wouldn't want to say no to even if you thought you could get away with it...

🌼 So you have to read it and John just gets all cosy with the children, they'd be giggling and whispering with him mischievously the whole time, impossible to settle down until you're kissing them all on the forehead and turning out the lights. Even then you can see them fidgeting and wriggling in the dark, hear them giggling behind the closed nursery door.

🌼 When they're finally asleep and you were ready to go to bed yourselves, John would sneak away to go and make reindeer prints in the snow outside for the children to find the next morning.

🌼 Then he'd come back to find you trying to tidy away his mess... Honestly he'd end up making more mess when he grabs you by the waist and asks to get his hands on his "beautiful, beautiful wife..."

🌼 What can I say the man's got a lot of pent up energy that needs to be used up before he goes to sleep...

Bonnie

🍀 Bonnie's used to a very busy, very family driven Christmas... One which is simple and traditional but chaotic and lively... All the family comes together for Christmas and their little camp practically triples inside as more and more families arrive each day in the weeks running up to Christmas...

🍀 But all the chaos means there's so much extra work to do and even though there's also extra helping hands, between Bonnie being dragged away on hunting expeditions to gather food for Christmas Day and wood for the fires, and you being rushed off your feet with children to mind, presents to make and hide away... Well you and Bonnie have hardly had a second together for days...

🍀 And Bonnie's favourite part of Christmas is getting to spend it with the people he loves - you most of all. He had so many plans for this December with you and so far he hasn't been able to get you alone for long enough to do more than give you a quick kiss on the cheek...

🍀He's longing for Christmas day so that all the fuss will be over and he might sneak you away to give you your presents...

🍀But before that there's Christmas Eve to get through, just one more day and then finally the two of you will get a little peace... And the way you keep shooting him long lingering glances from the steps of your vardo, from by the fire, from where you sit buried beneath your younger siblings and a blanket...Bonnie can tell you're thinking exactly the same as you..

🍀Though he has to admit he does love to watch you playing with the youngens, getting them ready for bed as the sun goes down and they get rosy cheeks by the fire. They're so cute and you're so good with them... It doesn't half make him broody, he can't help but imagine what kind of a mammy you'll be one day...

🍀Every time he tries to come and sit down with you someone steels him away, his dad gives him a job to do, some of the younger lads demand he joins their snowball fight...

🍀And it's that snowball fight that means he finally gets his hands on you... Because when one of the lads clips one of the lassies you've been sitting with on the back of the head with a snowball all he'll breaks loose and all the kids are suddenly picking sides and scrambling to action.

🍀Naturally you're siding with your best friend, against Bonnie and the lads... Which means your competitive streak shines through and challenges Bonnie... Who never backs down from a fight. Its not long before you're tearing through the trees, kicking and throwing snow at him, giggling because you know you can't escape him, and god you don't want to escape him!

🍀So finally he gets his hands on you, wrapping his arms tight around you, pretending he's fighting you to the floor... The chill of the snow as you sink into the drift on your back, the cold prickles all over you but all you can concentrate on is the warmth of his breath on your cheek as he pins you down and locks eyes with you...

🍀 "So this is what I have do to steal a moment with my girl eh?" He teases wasting very little time before he kisses you deep and passionately, that desire to see you become a mammy almost getting the better of him as you giggle and push him off you reminding him it won't be long before the two of you get swarmed by bairns.

🍀So instead he helps you up and walks you back to the fire to get you warmed up, and he uses his own chill as an excuse to sit with you by the fire for awhile, admiring you, falling in love with you a little more as you gather the youngens round you once again to tell them a story as they drink their hot milk before bed.

🍀Later when it's late and most of the littlens are fast asleep, when the musics being played and everyone's merry on hot mulled wine Bonnie finally gets you all to himself, dancing with you by the fire, stealing all the kisses he wants, teasing you asking if you've been good this year an if you reckon father Christmas is gonna visit you.

🍀Cuddling up to you when you're both tucked away in bed, whispering to you about how sweet you looked with the littlens earlier.. boy has baby fever and trust me it gets ten times worse at Christmas.

Isaiah

🐀 Watching the chaos ensuing at the Shelby Manor and listening to John and Ada talking about all the stress of Christmas with the children is making you and Isaiah feel very grateful that you're still young and that this Christmas Eve the only thing you've to worry about is the Garrison running out of drink...

🐀 You've been looking forward to seeing your friends all week having been busy in the shop you work in right until close that very afternoon... Isaiah would meet you at your work to pick you up and in his pocket he's got s gift for you...

🐀 "I was going to wait until tomorrow to give you this but I thought you might like to wear them tonight..." He says kissing your lips and then your neck as he shuts your bedroom door behind you and pushes you back into your room gently. He's being extra charming, the romance of the season getting to both your heads.

🐀He's brought you a pair of divine ruby earrings, they're utterly gorgeous and you can't believe he's giving them to you at all least of all when it's not even technically christmas yet! You gasp, thrilled by the beautiful gift and immediately put them on...

🐀 You're trying to get ready to go out, trying to change into a prettier dress for your evening out but Isaiah has other ideas... he wants to see what you look like when you're only wearing those earrings...

🐀 So you're late to the Garrison and you turn up looking a little less than pristine but neither of you care because youve been sharing a bottle of wine on the walk and you're both ruby cheeked warmed by your drink for the road...

🐀 Spending the night laughing and dancing with all your friends, Finn's managed to sneak away from his demanding nieces and nephews and even Bonnie has managed to come up with an excuse to stay in town a little later than usual rather than heading straight back to the camp to help with the kids...

🐀 You spend all night wrapped up in Isaiah and your love for him... there's something about christmas which still excites you, wakes up your inner child and makes you giddy... all the glowing lights the decorations, the snowfall outside in the street.

🐀 Every time Isaiah catches you under the mistletoe he insists on a kiss, not just a peck but a cheeky, tempting kiss, one which makes your tummy flip and reminds you of what you were getting up to in your bed earlier than evening... one which makes you wish you could sneak off with him again...

🐀 At kicking out time you and your friends all go stumbling out into the snowy street together, all of you feeling drunk and carefree, like big children, Michael and Finn start a snowball fight which sees you all laughing and play fighting in the street, you join Bonnie's team and torment your boyfriend who is only pretending to be jealous... right?

🐀 Somewhere amid the chaos Isaiah snatches you and pulls you into the back of a parked car, it's dark and he's hovering above you in the back seat, your body pushes into the leather seat... when you look up his grin his boyish and ever so cheeky...

🐀 "Oh would you look at that eh... a Christmas miracle..." he teases holding the mistletoe he's stolen from the garrison above your head, pulling you in for an even deeper kiss than the last...

🐀 It's hard not to go too far but after a long while of torturing eachother with tempting kisses you realise you're late for his father's mass and you both go running off hand in hand down the street, finishing the last of the drink he also took from behind the bar at the Garrison.

🐀 You're hand in hand and oh so drunk as you slip into the church and sit in the corner of a pew right at the back, you're giggling quietly to one another, holding hands, propping one another up...

🐀 at different times you both fall asleep and wake one another up and when it comes time for communion you're both giggly, trying very hard to be serious, already knowing that his father is going to know how pissed you are... You're not in trouble though, he just tsks at you both and smirks when he offers your wine, a quiet "not that you need it" and a wink when he sees you practically falling asleep on his sons shoulder.

🐀 Isaiah carries you home through the snow, bundling you up into bed with him, cuddled up under the blankets, unable to stop himself waking you up and stealing a good night kiss from you.. one which becomes so much more than just a kiss...

Michael

☘️ Michael would love nothing more than a quiet Christmas, just you, him and his mum... But that's not how being part of the Shelby family works...

☘️ He spends the run up to Christmas stressing about the journey back to England, he's worried about you meeting his family for the first time... Not because he's worried they won't like you, but because he's worried you will see how fucked up his family is and want to run a mile...

☘️ You arrive at Arrow House on the morning of Christmas Eve, you've travelled through the night through snow and freezing wind, but when your car finally makes it up the long winding drive you're taken back by how beautiful it all is... How grand the house is, how very English it all appears to be...

☘️ You're nervous to meet the family, most of all Polly because you're sure her opinion means more to Michael than anything else in the world. If Polly doesn't like you it's over...

☘️ But everything Michael has warned you about... His cousins schemes and manipulative personality... Well you're surprised to see that you don't see anything like it... All you see is one busy, chaotic house packed full of children and adult men who run around pretending to fight and shoot one another much like children...

☘️ You're completely absorbed into family life from the second the servants take your bags... You're overwhelmed by the Shelby family but you can't say you're not pleased...

☘️ Whilst Michael is jumped upon by his cousin's you're swept up by the women, Ada and Lizzie giggling as they mix you up a gin and tonic and show you their hiding place in the kitchen when they need two seconds peace... Not from their children who are running around feral with excitement for christmas, but from the Peaky men who are apparently more of a handful than the children...

☘️ As the evening draws in Michael wants to steal you away but he can't bring himself to because you're sitting on the floor playing with the children.. Arthur is dressed up as Santa asking them all what they want for Christmas...

☘️ But when he invites you to come up and sit in his lap, asks you if you've been a good girl this year Michael has to intervene and save you from his cousin.

☘️ He coughs and very awkwardly speaks up to save you, asks to borrow you for a minute... Lies and says he needs your help in the kitchen... And this lie is obviously met with smirks and jokes because everyone knows he's just jealous of Arthur's stupid flirting...

☘️ He actually apologises for his cousin, it's just you and him in the kitchen and he looks nervous, like he's worried you're going to run off with Arthur... But when you ask what's wrong he shakes his head, says "nothing... Just promise me they haven't scared you off..." you can't help but laugh at that.

☘️ "What? Don't be daft Michael, I love them and I love you!" And he's very glad to hear that, blushing like a teenage boy because he's gone all out to spoil you this Christmas... There's so many gifts under the tree with your name on them but the gift that's most important is in his back pocket... He was going to save it for tomorrow but now that he's got you alone in the kitchen he realises there's no better time to ask you to be his wife than the present...

☘️ So your Christmas Eve ends in Michael getting down on one knee on the kitchen floor surrounded by carrot peelings...

Taglist

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#peaky blinders headcannon #peaky blinders imagines #bonnie gold x reader #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders imagine #arthur shelby x reader #john shelby x reader #peaky blinders headcanon #isaiah jesus x reader #michael gray x reader #alfie solomons x reader #peaky blinders christmas

[probablyasocialecologist]

On the border of Peru and Bolivia, the Waru Waru—an indigenous Quechua word that means ridge—are once again protecting potato and quinoa crops as they did in the region 2,000 years ago. "It is an agricultural system that lets us face climate change, which has changed the seasons of the year. It is very beneficial in times of drought and frost," farmer Cesar Cutipa, 42, told AFP. Puno lies on Lake Titicaca about 3,812 meters (12,507 feet) above sea level. Farmers have made six Waru Waru nearby in flood-prone fields. Furrows form a rectangular platform, where planting is done. Surrounded by water, the planting beds are up to 100 meters long, between four and 10 meters wide and one meter high. The water around the plants creates a microclimate, absorbing heat from the sun during the day and radiating it back at night to ward off frost in sub-zero temperatures. "The Waru Waru cannot flood during the rainy season because they have an intelligent drainage system that reaches the river. They have many advantages," agronomist Gaston Quispe told AFP. In 2023, when Puno suffered one of the largest periods of drought in almost six decades, Waru Waru helped farmers cope with lack of water and avoid food shortages. The area is home to mostly indigenous farming communities, mostly Quechua in Peru—and up the Andes—and both Quechua and Aymara in Bolivia. "We are able to live here peacefully because we have our potatoes, our quinoa and barley. We can be in peace without going to the city," said 22-year-old farmer Valeria Nahua.

#Waru Waru #farming #climate change #agroecology #indigenous

[from-memphis-with-love]

1849 - an Elvis Presley One-Shot

Summary: It's 1849 and the height of the Oregon Trail. Pearl, an innocent and inexperienced young woman, is plucked from the prairie and into a marriage with rough and tumble rancher Elvis Presley. She's practically paralyzed with fear on her wedding night. But all is not what it seems: he is actually loving and kind with her, and, with a little gentle coaxing, she soon comes to find out the true meaning of what her husband affectionately calls his "manly duties."

Beneath a velvet sky embroidered with stars, the sweeping prairie of the Willamette Valley undulated endlessly, its breezy grasses frosted silver in the gentle moonlight, swaying like the swells of a wheat-colored sea. The air, redolent with sagebrush and wildflower nectar, whispered tales yet untold. 

A weathered log cabin, sturdy as an old oak, nestled harmoniously amid the untamed expanse. Inside, flickering candlelight danced upon the rough-hewn walls, casting writhing shadows that capered about. This humble abode was far more than a shelter; it housed two hearts newly joined in matrimony's sacred covenant. 

Upon a mattress of timber and homespun linens lay the newlyweds. The sounds of crickets and distant animals floated on the night air, a natural lullaby straight from the land itself. They reveled in the hushed serenity of their nascent life together.

A stillness Pearl finally punctured with a question. 

"Elvis?" she pouted, her reedy voice not fully her own. "You've stolen the blanket." Mistaking her complaint for invitation, Elvis sidled closer, his sturdy frame a barrier against the cool night air. He slipped his hand atop her opposite side, ensconcing her between his bare chest and muscular arm. "Might I perhaps have them back, please?"

He nuzzled nearer, his tone playful. "Chilly? Lemme warm you up, then."

Now, with mere inches between them, his radiant skin-heat seemed to flow directly into her own, quickening her heartbeat. She swallowed, her voice quavering slightly. "Do you... have a nightshirt, perhaps?"

"A night-what?" His confusion, genuine or feigned, hung in the air between them, charged with the unspoken energy of their touch.

Pearl closed her eyes, seeking refuge in inky darkness, away from the maelstrom roiling within. She wished to be anywhere but perched on the precipice of her wedding night, an apprehensive innocent bound to a man whose depths were only just beginning to unfurl before her. 

Her thoughts meandered to distant places: endless prairies beneath boundless skies, their splendor unfettered and raw. She pictured the wind's caress, laden with wildflower perfume, conveying whispers of age-old tales. How she yearned for freedom, to roam unconstrained by society's fetters!

Her heart ached for the unknown, the thrill of novel faces and locales. Perhaps in a bustling metropolis, pulsating with a mosaic of sounds, she could vanish into the crowd, shedding her naïve bride skin. Or on a lonely mountain peak, inhaling the crisp air, losing herself in nature's majesty, finding peace in its seclusion. 

No, she banished the thought, Elvis Presley never feels fear, and I'm a fool to think otherwise. 

Somehow, this realization lent her the strength to open her eyes, letting curiosity temper her fears. Yet, the echoes of a strict upbringing whispered doubts, and she might feel more at ease about it all if Elvis kept some of his clothes on—at least for the night. She broached the subject of modesty. “A nightshirt. If you have one in that chest over there, I’d appreciate you wearing it,” she ventured.

Unlike Pearl, Elvis had no such compunctions about their intimacy, nor was he concerned with modesty. His hands, calloused from the laborious toil of ranch work, possessed an innate understanding of the contours that ignited pleasure. His lips held secrets of countless stolen kisses and whispered promises. He cocked a sly smile at her request.

“Honey, you know I don’t own no nightshirt. The closest I come is wearing my long johns in the winter, and now that I got you to keep me warm, I reckon I won’t wear ‘em anymore.”

“Then what, pray tell, shall you wear?”

In one smooth motion, Elvis lifted her until she sat upright before him, noticing with some relief that his trousers remained in place. Strong fingers carded through her hair, treating the auburn strands as delicately as silk. 

"Y’know, the first time I laid eyes on you, you know I imagined you wearin’ nothin’ but your beautiful hair?”

Pearl froze, stunned by the vulnerability his words implied. To be so exposed, with only her hair for modesty, sparked an instinctual alarm...yet also fascination. Like a deer in a rife’s sight, she wrestled with the storm of fear and curiosity Elvis's revelation provoked. 

Firelight danced in his eyes, flecks of gold glittering in that captivating blue. With care, Elvis gathered her hair over her breasts. Though clothed, Pearl shivered at the suggestive act, a blush creeping up her neck. 

"Just like that," he murmured admiringly. "Sweet little rosebuds begging to be kissed. Peekin’ out to me and all."

Sitting there, Pearl felt Elvis's gaze wash over her like sunlight piercing through fog. His words stirred something deep within, blossoming warmth that spread from her cheeks down through her chest. But it didn't stop there. A swirling eddy gripped her belly, intensifying into a molten pull that sunk her deeper into this newfound swell of feeling. No one had told her a wedding night could feel like this. 

She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing away the betrayal of her body's response. 

Noticing her blush, Elvis leaned back, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "Seems I might be pushing my luck tonight," he mused, his mouth settling into a bashful grin. He caressed her cheek, his calloused thumb rubbing soothing circles into her skin. “My God, you are so lovely.” Though his touch was gentle, she tensed. "Little Pearly, are you really that nervous?"

Pearl's heart raced, her cheeks burning with a mix of fear and longing as she took in the sight of Elvis's bare chest. The raw exposure of his skin, the dance of muscles beneath, stirred a whirlwind of emotions—curiosity, vulnerability. Fear. An evil desire she wouldn’t dare name. The way he looked stirred a terrible hunger deep within, and she couldn’t help but long for a barrier between them, a shield to temper the intensity of their connection.

With a voice touched by nerves, she mustered the courage to voice her yearning. "I would probably feel better if you put on a shirt," she ventured softly, unaware of the intoxicating effect her request had on Elvis, who looked back at her with a mix of amusement and reverence. "Are you sure you don't have one, Elvis?"

"I can do it with a shirt on, but I reckon I’ll have to take my trousers off sooner or later," he quipped, then caught himself, noting the joke wasn’t helping. "Is there anything else troubling you, darlin'?"

Pearl straightened, clearing her throat. "I’d really appreciate it if you just get on with it, please. I want to get this over with. We can talk afterward, alright?"

Elvis's smile faded, his thumb stilling on her cheek. "Ah, honey, I’m so sorry. I need a good whuppin’, that’s what I need," he said, nudging his nose against hers playfully. He twirled one of her curls around his finger, breathing in her scent. "I’m just a big ole oaf, is what I am. Here I am jokin’ my head off and you’re as nervous as a fawn. I should be making you feel good instead. Makin’ you forget what it is you’re so scared about.” 

Pearl’s eyes crossed trying to peer into his, so she let them flutter closed.

Cupping her face in his rough palms, Elvis lifted his forehead from hers, leaving a ghost of warmth behind. He pressed a feather-light kiss to the tip of her nose. Pearl's heart fluttered at the gentle gesture, her grip tightening on his broad wrists as he guided her back onto the bed. Sinking into the mattress, she felt a mix of trepidation and trust as Elvis settled above her, forearms bracketing her shoulders.

“My wife,” he whispered, chest grazing her breasts as he bent close. “Don’t be afraid, sweetheart,” he murmured, full lips barely brushing hers in a whisper-soft caress. “I’ll make it real nice for you. Pearl, I will never intentionally hurt you. I swear it.”

“Elvis...” She parted her lips to speak, but his mouth stole the words. His breath was warm and sweet with a hint of black coffee as she sucked it in. Soft lips trailed over the contours of her mouth, leaving desire in their wake. But when his probing tongue intruded, Pearl recoiled in shock and apprehension, questioning the unfamiliar invasion. 

Pearl's world narrowed to the feel of his lips. They ignited longings within her, each touch kindling dormant desires. 

Her racing heart stumbled over itself as his tongue gently challenged her limited experience. Fingers digging into his arms, climbing to the solid assurance of his shoulders, she wondered, silently pleading, What's happening to me?

Desire, raw and unbidden, surged within her. Yet a shadow of doubt whispered too, questioning her boldness. Still, as they kissed, warmth bloomed inside her, promising pleasure, promising connection. Though separated by her thin nightgown, his touch blazed lines of fire over her skin, pulling her into a dance between longing and hesitation. 

For the first time, Pearl reveled in the forbidden delight of passionate kisses, a realm unknown to her sheltered life. The caress of his mouth on hers was a dance, each movement stirring longing she hadn't known existed. Every press and yielding response painted a portrait of contradictions—firm yet molten, unyielding yet accommodating. She prayed they would do this part of it frequently, whatever came next.

Catching her lower lip, he rolled it tenderly beneath his tongue, gently nibbling. Oh yes, she adored kissing. Their kisses grew bolder, back and forth, until his chest pressed firmly against hers. Her pounding heartbeat drowned out the owl's hoot outside. Arching against him, she dug her nails into his shoulders, overwhelmed by urgent, indescribable desire. She pressed into his rippling heat with greater intensity, seeking solace in his muscular frame.

Again, he delicately caught her lower lip between his teeth, rolling it tenderly beneath his tongue and gently nibbling on it.

Oh, yes.

She adored kissing him. Their kisses escalated until she was deaf to everything but her pounding heart. Arching into him, nails digging into his shoulders, she was overwhelmed with desire, seeking solace in his heat.

He relinquished his hold on her hair, breaking the kiss to embark on a tantalizing exploration of her face. His lips traced a path along her cheek, leaving a trail of teasing nips and touches that sent delightful shivers coursing through her body. With deliberate intent, he traveled upward, caressing her temple before retracing his path down to her eyelids.

Oh, what sensations!

His mouth against her sensitive skin was pure ecstasy. Venturing to her ear, his breath resonated as he nibbled her earlobe, flicking his tongue along the tender hollow beneath. A soft moan escaped her. Descending to her neck, his kisses made her tremble, breath hitching. She adored his skillful, desiring mouth. His presence enveloped her, intensifying the longing within, and she felt a curious pooling in her lap that startled her. Their hips pressed together, moving slowly, heightening the achingly sweet yearning in her veins. Lost in the moment, she faintly registered his trembling hands worrying the buttons of her gown, finally easing the fabric open. A gentle breeze brushed her bare breasts, sending delicious shivers down her spine - an unfamiliar yet delightful sensation.

A faint whisper of caution echoed in Pearl's mind, a remnant of scriptures urging caution against such intoxicating desire. Yet the allure was too powerful to resist. She surrendered to cascading waves of pleasure, losing herself in the intensity of their connection, exploring the passion dormant within her. The world fell away. All that mattered was the electric current drawing them closer in a dance of yearning and surrender. 

"Good Lord," he rasped, voice thick with desire. "I can’t even breathe, I want you so bad.” 

His scorching tongue blazed a path over her taut, yearning nipple. A jolting shock seized her, stealing her breath, causing her heart to falter. His mouth enveloped her with fervent intensity, sensations reverberating to her toes. Wide-eyed, she glanced down to see his flawless face nestled against her breast. Gradually he retreated, teasingly tugging her nipple, teeth capturing the pulsating bud before releasing, only to repeat the exquisite torment. 

Shock rippled through her, leaving her gasping in disbelief. Yet he drew her back into his mouth, swallowing her essence with unyielding passion. Panic gripped her and she screamed, pushing against him with all her might, cries echoing. What is happening? What unspeakable act is this? Oh mercy!

She felt betrayed. His audacious promises were deceitful lies! He personified sinful, impure yearning. This pleasure was too good to be true. 

As Pearl's piercing screams reverberated through the air, the sound struck Elvis like a lightning bolt, jolting him from his haze. Fear and concern etched his face as he sprang up, heart pounding. Reaching out with trembling hands, he gripped her shoulders urgently, as if to anchor them both. 

"Darlin', what's the matter? Did I hurt you?"

She screamed again, scrambling away and hastily closing her gown with trembling hands, desperately trying to conceal herself - a raw, vulnerable moment, reminding them both of past wounds. 

"Leave me be! Don't you lay a hand on me! You deceived me, you lied!" she cried, anguished.

In the corner, Get Lo, the loyal hound, rose with a mournful howl as footsteps and voices neared the cabin. Fists pounded the sturdy door, causing it to tremble. 

"Boss!" Red's voice echoed. "Hey, boss!" More commotion. "Stand back! I'll kick it down if I have to!"

"No!" Elvis shouted. "It's alright, Red! Don't break down the door!" 

"Show yourself then, damn it! How do I know someone ain't holdin' a gun on ya?"

"God damnit, I'll be right there!" Elvis shot an anxious look at his bride, now wedged into the corner between the headboard and wall. "Sweetheart, I'm sorry. One second and I’ll be right back, alright?" 

But she appeared more inclined to a tooth extraction than entertaining that idea. Elvis muttered an oath and went to the door, lifting the bolt and cracking it open to let Red glimpse him in the flickering candlelight. "We're alright. Weren’t nothing, Red. Just a misunderstanding, is all." 

Red's eyes blazed with desert-sun intensity. "A misunderstanding? She nearly shook the soul out of me, Elvis!" His voice held the edge of a man ready to face a nest of rattlers. "A misunderstanding?" 

Elvis bowed his head, a shadow of remorse etching across his face. "I’m sorry, Red. This is my doing, not hers." 

Red shot a knowing look and without a word, Elvis eased the door closed, his hand lingering on the bolt before it fell into place with a gentle thud. He turned slowly, his gaze drawn to the bed. 

Pearl clung to a pillow, her eyes wide pools of darkness against her pale face. Fear and disbelief swirled within those inky depths. 

"You lied!" Her shrill cry pierced the heavy air. 

Brows furrowed, Elvis sank onto the mattress. "Sweetheart, I swear I didn't deceive you. Please, tell me what I did wrong."

She wrapped her arms around herself, clutching her shoulders with trembling hands. "You lied! You gave me your word!" Her voice broke on the accusation.

Elvis leaned forward, elbows on knees, straining to read her face in the dim firelight. Though just minutes ago passion had flowed between them, now she recoiled from his touch. Her chin jutted out defiantly. "Why did you lie?"

Steady but tinged with desperation, his voice cut through the tense silence. "What lie?" His eyes searched hers for any glimmer of understanding. He fought to remain calm amidst the storm raging within the room. "Sweetheart, please, tell me what you believe I lied about."

Her lips twisted in bitter disbelief. "Don't play dumb. You said you conducted yourself righteously, like the brethren." She spat out a harsh laugh. "None of them would ever behave as you did. You lied, plain and simple. And I was foolish enough to believe it." 

Elvis ran his fingers through his disheveled hair, frustration creeping into his voice. "I did not lie."

"You most certainly did!" she shrieked, the words piercing the air. "You claimed to be free of impious inclinations!"

Elvis replayed his actions in his mind, struggling to pinpoint his misstep. He could only surmise he had unintentionally caused her harm. "Did I hurt your breasts when I kissed them? I didn't mean to come on too strong." 

She let out a scream, shielding her face with her hands. "Do not speak such vulgar words! I am not married to you! Do you hear me? I am not!"

"Pearl, you’re not talkin’ sense. People don’t marry and unmarry over a misunderstanding. They engage in con-ver-sa-tion," he implored, sounding out the word slowly. “We need to talk this through.”

"Well, I did not enter into a marriage. I was deceived!" 

Elvis sighed, running his fingers through his hair again. "Deceived, married...we have to talk. Please, tell me what I've done."

She persisted in hiding her face behind trembling fingers, oblivious to her gaping gown and the exposed breast it revealed. The nipple he had showered with affection remained erect, illuminated by the flickering fire. It seemed to beckon for more—a request he would gladly oblige if only she were more receptive. 

"You know perfectly well why I'm upset," she accused, voice muffled.

"No, I truly do not," he confessed. Shifting to all fours, he moved closer, examining her tender nipple. Pink and raw, it stood erect, pulsating with her quickened heartbeat. He was too rough, he concluded with regret. 

Grasping her knees, he gently unfolded her legs before straddling her thighs. Palms planted on either side, he focused on her quivering hands. "Pearl, please lower your hands and look at me." 

"No!"

"I promise I won't do it again. Alright? I'm truly sorry. From now on, you hold the reins. Whatever pleases you is exactly how I'll do things, I swear. You just have to tell me what feels nice and what doesn't." 

"Well, that certainly wasn't nice!" 

"Then, you guide me on how you want it, and I'll follow your lead." 

Pearl jerked away, a sob catching in her throat. Swirling emotions tightened her chest. "How can I trust you're not lying?" 

Elvis sighed, the sound resonating deep within his broad chest. "Have I ever lied to you?"

The faint scent of leather and tobacco enveloped her as he leaned closer. She inhaled sharply. "Yes." 

He raked a hand through his dark locks. "Sweetheart, let me show you the truth." 

His warm breath grazed her ear, evoking memories of his teeth grazing her sensitive flesh. Goosebumps prickled her arms. "Was it nice at first?" His deep timbre reverberated through her.

"Yes." 

"Well then, we'll only do what feels nice. I promise." His voice was like rich honey, urging her to taste its sweetness. 

She peered at him through splayed fingers. "Do you swear it?"

His eyes smoldered like blue flames. "Honey, I don't just swear it. I'll prove it to you."

His head dipped lower, warm lips finding her breast. She jerked back with a shriek, her elbow catching his ear. 

Elvis recoiled, clutching his head. "Damn it, Pearl Marie! Now I know I didn't hurt you that time!" 

“Scoundrel!” Shame flooded her cheeks. She scrambled to escape, but her nightgown snagged beneath his knees. Strong hands grasped her shoulders. She balled her fists. "Don't touch me! If you do, I won't be responsible. I'll fight like you taught me and I’ll break your nose this time!" 

"Why are you fighting me?" Hurt and frustration etched his rugged features. 

She trembled, anger and confusion swirling within. "Why? You do a thing like that and you ask me why? You lied! You promised to do things proper, but you didn't!"

"A thing like what?" Elvis began to grasp the situation, though he struggled to believe he had it right. "Kissing your breast, you mean?" 

She covered her face again, trembling. "Stop saying things like that!" 

"Like what? Breast? Nipples? Titties? Yer cans?" he started to laugh. She made a keening sound. Get Lo joined in, throwing back his head and emitting a playful bark. 

"Shut up!" Elvis yelled, his frustration mounting. Get Lo continued to howl, but Pearl jumped in surprise and began holding her breath. "Not you, honey." Elvis shot a fierce glare at the howling hound. "Get Lo! I don't need you interfering none!" The hound fell silent and grumbled. 

Elvis figured he had his answer regarding the matter of the breast. He rubbed his face wearily and blinked. "Pearl, do you believe that kissing you there is ungodly?" 

She removed her hands from her face, gaping at him in astonishment. "Of course it is! You promised to do things the regular way, and you lied!"

Realization washed over him. So that’s what this was about. “Well, what is the regular way, Pearl Marie? I guess maybe I ain’t real clear on that.” 

The fire’s amber glow illuminated her face, but darkness still shrouded her eyes. She perched on the edge of the roughhewn log bed, hands folded primly in her lap. 

"You're just supposed to do your... thing!" she insisted, biting her lower lip. 

Elvis cocked his head, his brow furrowing. "My thing? What exactly is my thing?"

She shrank back against the headboard. "Just... you know. And nothing else!" Her words came out in a nervous rush.

Elvis sank back on his heels, disbelief etched on his face. "Is that what your mother told you? Honey, I think there's been a misunderstanding here."

"No, there hasn't!" She sat up straight, her voice sharp. "She spelled it out plain and clear!"

Elvis's mind raced, recalling the tales he'd heard about the strict sects with their restrictive ways. The kinds of places that squeezed the lifeblood out of a man. His gaze drifted to the plain black dresses and gray undergarments piled against the wall. A hollow feeling settled in his gut. 

"Pearl Marie, are you saying the men in your church never touch a woman? They just...do it and leave it at that?"

She turned her face away, her chin quivering. "Yes. And Ma said I should just lie there and meditate, ignore the... goings-on while it happened." 

A laugh burst from Elvis's lips before he could stop it. Hazel eyes flashed accusingly at him and he threw up his hands. "Honey, I ain't laughing at you. I swear it." He struggled to compose himself, leaning back against the sturdy log footboard. Maybe he should change the subject, but he couldn't help it. Laughter shook his body until he had to clutch his stomach, tears streaming down his cheeks. 

"I ain't making fun, truly," he managed between fits. "Just had a funny thought is all."

He wiped his eyes, regaining a shred of control until he pictured himself in a black suit and hat, dutifully making sterile love. That image shattered his restraint. He laughed again until his sides ached, finally going limp against the footboard. 

"Well, damn," he muttered, wondering what had set him off in the first place. Wasn't funny at all. The woman he loved wanted to recite psalms while he moved inside her. Heaven forbid he disrupt her concentration. 

"Are you finished?" she asked crisply, buttoning her dress up to her throat once more. 

Elvis looked up at her. "Reckon I am."

"Then let me take this opportunity to inform you that I don't believe we are compatible. Our marriage would be a disaster unless you abandon your sinful desires."

He sat up and met her gaze directly. "That just ain’t gonna happen. Ain’t nothin’ sinful about a man makin’ his woman feel good.”

She wrapped her arms around her waist, dropping her eyes. Longing pierced his chest, for he did love her. But he wouldn't surrender his principles to appease her church's notions of marital duties. There was nothing unholy about wanting to worship every inch of her. If she believed otherwise, well, she was just as confused as the rest of them. He knew she'd be happier once he showed her the truth.

"Remember when I said we're coming at this from different angles?" he began gently. "That it might take some time to find middle ground?"

"Yes," she replied.

"Well, I was righter’n I thought." He gave her a tender look. "But that don't mean we ain't meant for each other. Just means we gotta compromise, both of us."

"I won't compromise my beliefs." 

"Honey, I ain’t concerned with your beliefs. It's your body I got my sights set on," he said, throwing her an innocent look, although looking harmless wasn't one of his natural talents. "We can work this out."

"How? I won't permit the things you did earlier. I won't!"

“Well, tell me something you will allow, and we’ll take it from there.” He leaned forward, propping his arms on his knees. With effort, he kept his mind off the image of himself in a suit. "What do the church men do exactly?"

She looked down at him from the side of the bed. "My mother told me that on my wedding night and every night thereafter, I should lie still on my back. She told me that my husband would come to me at night and join me in the darkness under the quilts. He would lift my gown to my hips and fulfill his manly duty swiftly. And there wasn’t much more to it than that," she gulped, her voice trembling. "And if I wished, I think of something else like prayer or meditation until he finished."

Elvis suppressed a chuckle. One stray laugh and she'd never forgive him. Instead he stroked his chin, hiding his smile. 

"Well, now, you see? We already got half of it licked. At least now I know what I can and can’t do," he said. 

Wary hazel eyes searched his face. He realized he'd shaken her world more than he’d thought. It was no laughing matter.

"So you might be willing to compromise?" Hope tinged her voice.

"Well, now..." Elvis considered swiftly."Is kissing like we did before allowed?" 

"Yes," she answered.

He stroked his chin. "Let's see if I got this right. From your collarbone down to your hips, that area's off limits."

"Correct," she nodded.

"But from your hipbones down, that's free territory?" 

"Correct," she confirmed.

"And in the area that’s mine, is there any rules?" he asked, a hint of curiosity in his eyes.

She appeared bewildered. "Rules?"

"Your ma told you their rules. So what do the church men do when they fulfill their duty? Tell me plain so I'm clear."

She shook her head. "She didn't say. They just... do it." She waved her hand dismissively. 

Bingo.

"So, there ain’t no rules how I do my manly business."

"Not that I know of. That’s your business. A wife does not concern herself with such matters," she responded.

Elvis raised an eyebrow. "So, I can do my business as I please?"

She hesitated, sensing a trap but unable to grasp it. In her innocence, she couldn't fathom his motive. Guilt pricked Elvis, but experience had taught him that sometimes conscience was a man's worst enemy. 

"I suppose you can," she finally answered. "It’s your business, after all."

"And you ain’t gonna protest? ‘Cept if I hurt you which I’ll try my damnest not to do." he asked. "Do I have your word? You just gonna think about scripture and let me do my thing? Let me conduct my manly duties as I see fit?”

She blinked at him warily. "You swear you won't engage in vulgar acts above my hips?"

"Honey, not unless you ask," he assured her.

"Why would I ever ask such a thing?" Incredulity filled her voice.

"Just leaving it on the table is all. Do I have your word?"

"Yes, you have my word," she replied.

Elvis suppressed a grin. "One more thing. How much time do I get?" 

She gaped at him, eyes wide. "Well, I don't know. How long does it take?"

"Well, that's the thing. Sometimes longer than others. Can I have all the time I need?" he proposed.

"I... suppose so," she hesitated. 

Elvis raised his hands. "Well, there you go. A com-pro-mise, just like you said. You promise you’re okay with this?"

She eyed the rumpled quilts where she had lain just moments before. A crease formed between her brows. Reluctantly, she nodded, though her pursed lips revealed lingering doubts. 

"I promise," she replied, sounding skeptical. "On the condition that you swear to be content with the brethren's way of conducting ourselves, forever."

Elvis lifted his right hand. "I swear on my mama's grave, I won't lay a hand or lip on you from hips to collar—'less you ask me to."

“Shall I lie back down then?”

“I reckon.” 

With a resigned sigh, she slid back onto the feather mattress. Stiff as a plank, she squeezed her eyes shut and folded her hands over her chest, bracing herself. In a small voice she called out, "Elvis?"

“Yes, darlin’?”

"Don't forget the quilts." 

In response, Elvis reached behind, his fingers brushing against the rough woven quilts. Gripping the edges, he rose to his knees and gently peeled back the layers of fabric. 

"Covered up to your chin?" he asked, his voice a tender whisper. 

She nestled into the quilts' warmth, squeezing her eyes shut as if blocking out the world around her. "Please."

Elvis tugged the quilts up to her chin and slipped underneath beside her. "I can lay my arm over you, can't I? I've done it a million times already," he whispered, his warm breath caressing her cheek.

"Yes. That should be fine.”

With a feather-light touch, Elvis curved his hand around her waist, fingertips pressing into her soft flesh as he drew her closer. "Come here, sweetheart. You're still scared." Propping himself up on his elbow, he gazed down at her closed eyes, placing gentle kisses on each delicate eyelid. "I'm sorry for how I acted before, for shocking you. You know I would never do it on purpose."

She turned her cheek toward his lips, savoring their tender brush against her skin. "And... I'm sorry for hurting your ear. Are you alright?"

"I’m fine," he reassured, his voice low and soothing. 

Elvis started to tenderly brush her hair away from her face, tucking back silken strands behind her ear. "You’re so beautiful it breaks my heart. Have I ever told you that?"

She lifted her lashes, a smile gracing her lips. "Oh, Elvis." She embraced his neck tightly, inhaling his familiar scent. "I apologize for all the cruel things I said."

He held her close, pressing his face against her hair that smelled of waterlilies, feeling as though he possessed all the world's riches in his arms. "It ain’t nothing, I know you didn’t mean it." She pressed her body closer to his, molding her curves against his hard contours. He couldn't help but smile, a spark of desire igniting within.

Kissing. 

Pearl's lips melded with his, sparking an electric current that coursed through every nerve. The celestial stars themselves seemed to pale in comparison to the heavenly sensation surging within her. She yearned for more, quivering in anticipation of his touch. He claimed her mouth once again, exceeding her loftiest expectations. With torturous slowness, he traced her lips, exploring their delicate curves and coaxing soft sighs from her throat. As their bodies pressed together, his chest grazing hers sent delicious shivers dancing across her skin. She dismissed the friction as accidental, though an aching need stirred within her. 

Each kiss scattered her thoughts, shattering her inhibitions. Clinging to him fiercely, she sought to draw him closer still, desperate to merge their souls. Her nails dug crescents into his shoulders, stinging pain he appeared oblivious to. His lips blazed a trail down her neck, igniting an inferno beneath her skin. 

"Oh, Elvis..." she breathed, the words trailing off as emotion choked her voice. 

“What, darlin’? Am I wanderin’ too close to your collar?” 

Sensing the question hanging in the air, tears pricked her eyes. With a single word, she could end this exquisite torture. His taut muscles revealed his readiness to comply. Yet the thought of halting him brought inexplicable sorrow. Her fingertips glided over his shoulders, feeling the power coiled within him—power that belonged to her. 

She recalled his sudden embrace the night before, his body pressing down, dominating yet tender. He could have taken anything, but treated her like fragile glass. Always in control, yet somehow still hers to command.

Last night, when she'd elbowed him in the ear, he'd instinctively withdrawn, putting needed space between them. The irony was not lost on her; she had become a threat to him. But it was his tenderness that stirred her emotions, now bringing tears to her eyes. She was deeply moved by his unwavering care and protective nature. Oh, how she adored him, her heart overflowing with immeasurable love.

"Sweetheart, you're crying. Did I do something wrong?" His words were laced with concern, a genuine desire to understand and make amends. Pearl found herself unable to form a response, emotions rendering her speechless.

"Should I stop?" he asked gently, his voice conveying both worry and willingness to fulfill her wishes. 

“Oh, Elvis!” she finally managed.

His hand slid from her waist, slipping between her and the mattress, pulling her closer against his solid chest. "What's the matter, darlin'? Are you scared? I promise, I'll be gentle with you. Don't be afraid," he whispered in a soothing tone.

"I love you!" she exclaimed, clinging to him, seeking solace in his embrace. "I'm not afraid. It's just... oh, Elvis, I love you so much it hurts." 

He tensed, her words both balm and challenge to his heart. "I love you," she said again, conviction ringing in her voice. "I love you more than words can express."

A tremor rippled through his sturdy frame. His rough, calloused hand were splayed across her back, yet he treated her like the most precious treasure. Despite his strength, his touch remained gentle and caring. "Oh, darlin’," he whispered, voice quivering. "I love you too. With all that I am and all that I’ve got. But it shouldn't make you sad."

"I'm not sad! I'm happy!" she insisted.

He pressed tender kisses to her other cheek, tasting the salt of her tears. "Well, damn..." Frustration and bewilderment colored his tone, making her giggle uncontrollably. She felt his lips curve into a crooked grin against her skin as he continued trailing kisses along her ear. "Pearl Marie, will I ever understand you? Crying because you're happy. Darlin’, sometimes I swear you’re just plum crazy. You don’t make a lick of sense!"

She tilted her head, surrendering to his kiss, the word "lick" igniting a fervent desire for him to tease her sensitive spots with his tongue once more. As if sensing her need, he found a delectably vulnerable spot just below her ear, eliciting a soft gasp as she melted into his touch. 

"Yes, right there. Just like that. Oh, yes..." she whispered huskily. Her gown began to shift as he tugged it up, initially causing a spike of fear. But then his palm caressed her bare thigh, sending waves of pleasure washing over her.

Each touch felt like butterfly kisses, leaving her skin tingling with anticipation. Her heart pounded against her chest, and her breath turned shallow and unsteady. With feather-light fingertips, he traced a path to the very core of her being, teasing and tantalizing her with every stroke, only to trail away and trace maddeningly sweet patterns along her knees. It was as if her very essence had turned into a molten syrup, yearning to flow and merge with his touch. The quilts shifted, and suddenly she felt the moist, silken press of his lips against her thigh. Startled, she opened her eyes wide and stiffened with a mix of surprise and uncertainty. 

"Elvis, what are you..." Her words faded to a breathless moan as his tongue flickered, tracing delicate spirals that kindled liquid heat low in her belly. 

Through the quilts, his muffled voice vibrated against sensitive flesh. "Just relax, darlin'. I'm tending to business." 

"But, I don't know if..." She clamped her knees together, but his broad shoulders gently eased them apart. 

Pearl clutched the rough-hewn headboard, pulse racing. Was he really going to...? Oh Lord, the man aimed to kiss her there. Shock paralyzed her even as exquisite sensations spread like wildfire across her skin, urging her to surrender. 

"This ain't proper," she managed, but her resolve wavered under the intoxicating caress of his lips. 

He lazily circled her inner thigh, tongue painting glistening trails that seared like summer sun on bare skin. "Hush now, you're sweeter than cherry pie." His warm breath raised gooseflesh. "Let me take care of you."

"Darlin', reckon this here's how it's done?" 

"Elvis, are you sure 'bout this? I... I can't rightly tell."

"Start meditatin’, sweetheart. This here's my territory, not yours. Got it?" 

She closed her eyes, her voice quivering. "Mediating?" she repeated, sounding mighty puzzled. Drawing nearer, he raised his shoulders, leaning in closer to her. "No need to fret, darlin'. Remember what your ma told ya. Jus' lay still and don’t pay me no nevermind." 

He continued his tantalizing journey upwards. She twitched, tightening her grip on the headboard, her gaze fixed on the heavens. 

"I'll holler when I'm done, alright?" 

Done? Pearl felt an intense longing surge through her core. Close her eyes, that's what she was supposed to do. But... oh, dear heavens. "How long will it... will it take?" she managed to inquire. 

Rough palms grasped her backside. Pearl's eyes widened, a soft gasp escaping her parted lips. Merciful heavens, he meant to... 

"Just as..." he trailed his tongue along her inner thigh, sending shivers of pleasure with every teasing lick, "just as long as it needs to, darlin'." 

The first slow lap of his tongue drew a shuddering moan. Fingers clutching the sheets, she stared skyward. This couldn't be real. But the wet heat enveloping her dispelled all doubts. 

When he found that one exquisitely sensitive spot, her body jolted as if struck by lightning. "Elvis, I can't..."

"You can, darlin'," he purred before capturing her swollen flesh. 

"E-Elvis?" she stammered, her voice vibrating as if it traveled through her vocal cords on a wild bronco.

"Darlin', this part ain't your concern. Jus' lie still and let me handle my business, ya hear?" 

"Oh God, please..." She twisted handfuls of his hair, no longer caring what was proper. 

His low chuckle vibrated through her very core. "That's my girl. That's the rule," he drawled firmly. "This here's mine to do as I please, without your fussin', right?" 

"Y-yes." 

"Well then? You lie still and quit your worryin'." 

With that declaration, he resumed his gentle lapping, causing her to arch upward uncontrollably. Small, high-pitched sounds escaped her lips. She clung to the headboard, her body rising higher and higher. "Oh my... oh my... mercy, mercy!"

“There’s a girl. Give it to me, darlin’.” 

"Yes. Oh, yes," she breathed out, her hands digging into his scalp. "Oh, my God! Oh, dear heaven. Oh, pardon me! I'm meddling again." 

He chuckled again, the deep rumble shattering her thoughts as his mouth claimed her sensitive flesh. His tongue swirled and flicked, sparking a blaze that raced through her veins. Digging her heels into the mattress, she arched up, surrendering completely as her hips moved with his. Muscles twitching to his rhythm, the pressure built sharper and sharper within her. Just when she thought she couldn't take anymore, his mouth surged, fiercely pulling until she fractured with a cry, sensations bursting in a kaleidoscope of colors. 

She was precious to him. 

Throughout his life, Elvis had longed for a woman to love and make his bride, but only now did he truly grasp the meaning. She was his salvation, a woman woven from delicate lace and sunbeams, with eyes as vast as the summer fields. She was warmth and radiance, the tender blossoms of spring. A beautiful and perfect gift. It felt as if he were discovering love for the first time. And in a way, it was. For Elvis Presley was a tough man with an untouched heart. Until now. 

This girl held his heart in her hands, capable of making it sing with joy or bleed with sorrow. With a single arch of her spine and a lift of her slender hips, she could ignite him with bliss. He adored her. Her guileless urgency and unwavering trust nearly moved him to tears. No reservations. Just pure vulnerability. And as she shattered in climax, he tasted the rhythm of her heartbeats in the sweet throbbing of her flesh. Afterward, he tenderly caressed and kissed her, soothing her delicate sensitivity, easing the ache that lingered. 

When her breaths steadied, he hovered right over her. With her eyelids drooping low and a dreamy smile on her lips, she looked up at him. "Are you done?" 

Elvis leaned in for a kiss. "Nah, sweetheart. I'm just lettin' ya catch yer breath afore we go at it again." 

Her eyes widened. "Again?" 

He grinned and shifted to lie beside her, propping himself up on one arm to get a good look at her face. How beautiful she was, basking in the afterglow of the pleasures he brought to her for the first time! 

Beneath him, she gasped as his finger delved deep into her slick heat, back arching, breasts straining against her thin nightgown. He watched each expression dance across her features - surprise, wonder, rising urgency. Teasing and pulling back, he brought her to the edge again and again. When she arched, nipple grazing his chin, he flicked it lightly. 

She cried out, quivering, "Oh yes!" 

Another deep stroke had her whimpering, begging for more. 

Grinning, he met her gaze. "Want me to show 'em some lovin'?"

"Oh, Elvis. Do it again. Please." 

Elvis lowered his head, gripping her nightgown with his teeth, and pulled it up her slender frame, exposing her bosom. 

Elvis' fingers trembled as he grasped the thin fabric of her nightgown, the white cotton soft like a wisp of cloud between his teeth. With a gentle tug, he peeled back the garment, exposing her bare breasts to the fire's amber glow. Rosy peaks puckered in the chill night air, beckoning his touch.

"Ask me nice, darlin'," he murmured, breath warm against her chest. 

Frustration flared in her eyes. Snatching a fistful of his hair, she wrenched him downward. "Just do it already!"

That sure as shootin' had "please" beat to hell. And he reckoned he had every right to tease her mercilessly before giving her what she desired. 

Elvis swept his tongue slowly around one taut nipple, tracing its shape, feeling it swell beneath the caress of his mouth. A flick of his tongue made her gasp, then he returned to circling, building anticipation. When he finally closed his lips over the bud, its softness overwhelmed him. He suckled gently and was rewarded with the honeyed taste of her skin. 

To his surprise, her body began to writhe, hips undulating, fingers twisting the sheets. The telltale pulsing against his palm revealed she was cresting that peak of ultimate pleasure. Twenty-one years without a lover's intimate touch, and now she came undone in his arms. 

He savored each tremor that wracked her slender frame, the way she arched and cried out with abandon. Elvis brought her to that precipice two more times, worshiping her with his mouth until his own need could be denied no longer.

Rising above her, he gripped her legs behind the knees and nestled against slick, molten heat. Still lost in rapture's haze, she gazed up with heavy-lidded eyes, oblivious to the pain that awaited. The primal urge to plunge ahead warred with his vow to cherish her. 

"This'll hurt just once, darlin'," he whispered, hating himself. "I wish to God it weren't so." 

She blinked, her gaze fixed on his face, her eyes shimmering in the warm glow of the fire. "I understand. Just hold me close through it all," she implored softly. "With you beside me, it won't hurt as much. I won't feel afraid."

Tears blurred his vision. Elvis gathered her in his arms, surrounding her with his strength. She wrapped both arms about his neck, clinging tight. "I'm not scared anymore," she breathed against his cheek.

Though brave in word, her body tensed as he positioned himself at her entrance. In that moment, he would have given all he owned to spare her even the slightest twinge. The not knowing tormented him—how much agony she might suffer as he forged ahead. With infinite care, he nudged inside, felt her passage resist and then give way as she flinched in his embrace. The small cry that escaped her lips shredded his heart.

He buried his face in the silken veil of her hair, cursing the merciless act love demanded of him. To harm the one person who mattered most gutted his soul. 

But the cabin cocooned them in its embrace—the familiar smells of woodsmoke and pine, the fire's soothing crackle, the handcrafted furnishings whispering of shared memories. Their sanctuary through so many storms past would shelter them through this too. 

"Do it," she insisted, though her body still trembled with fear.

Panic jolted through him like lightning. "Jesus, I can't! I'm hurting you!" He started to withdraw, terrified of damaging her delicate frame. She was far smaller and tighter than any woman before. The risk of forcing himself deeper made his blood run cold. "You're too small, sweetheart," he choked out.

But before he could pull away, she lifted her hips, impaling herself upon him in one swift motion. 

Elvis' heart stopped mid-beat. He felt her tight channel give way as she took him fully inside. Fear for her clouded his mind. 

"Oh, God damn," he uttered, his voice laced with a mixture of desire and vulnerability. A soft, fragile laugh escaped her lips, and he felt the tension gradually dissipate from her body. With a tenderness that matched the love he held in his heart, she pressed her damp cheek against his neck. The touch of her wet skin against his sent shivers down his spine. In a hushed whisper, she reassured him, her words carrying a profound truth. "It’s all right now," she murmured. "It doesn’t hurt as much as I thought." 

Pearl gasped, her back arching off the rumpled sheets. Elvis hovered above, his elbows planted on either side of her shoulders, beads of sweat trailing down his furrowed brow. His hips rocked in a steady rhythm, eliciting soft mewls and whimpers from his wife. 

"Is this okay?" His voice was gruff, laced with restraint. Pearl's eyes fluttered open, pupils blown wide with desire. She nodded, breathless.

Elvis maintained his pace, relishing the slide of skin against skin. Pearl's nails raked down his back, leaving angry red trails in their wake. Her thighs tightened around his waist, pulling him deeper. 

"Oh!" she cried out, the sound sharp in the quiet cabin. "Don't stop, please..."

Elvis complied, quickening his thrusts as Pearl's moans grew louder, more desperate. Her hips bucked to meet his, the bed frame creaking in protest. The musky scent of their lovemaking permeated the air. 

Pearl's inner walls clenched around him as her climax crashed over her. The sensation tipped Elvis over the edge, his own release pulsing through him in waves. He collapsed on top of his wife, their hearts hammering against each other. 

As their breathing slowed, Elvis nuzzled Pearl's neck, inhaling her familiar floral scent. Her fingers lazily combed through his hair. He pressed a tender kiss to her collarbone, overcome with gratitude and awe. 

No longer was he a lonesome wanderer. Pearl had become his sanctuary, a beacon guiding him home. Elvis held his wife close as sleep overtook them. The distant howl of coyotes echoed outside their cabin, but they felt no fear in each others’ arms. Here, tangled together, they had found their own private heaven.

#1849 #elvis fans #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley fic #elvis x oc #elvis #elvis presley #elvis fic #elvis fluff #elvis presley smut #elvis smut #elvis fandom

[rootingforbada]

Crimson Snow: Mistletoe and Memories ❄️

disclaimers: this story contains angst, sad, tension, literally no happy ending feels, drama and it's bada's pov. remember it's a work of fiction, none of this represents what i truly think about bada's/bebe's character or nature! it is meant for fun and entertainment purposes only. also, i'm not a native english speaker and this is my first ever fanfiction so keep that in mind and be nice please. thank you 🩵

Summary: "Old flames, city lights, and buried memories — Bada Lee, against her own wishes, returns to Incheon for Christmas. Amidst the moonlit whispers and the unyielding snowfall, she's compelled to confront a past she believed buried beneath the frost."

WC: 2.1k

"Yes, mom, i'll be there for Christmas," i muttered into the phone, my voice tinged with a hint of disdain.

"This city gives me the creeps," i ponder.

Incheon is like a patchwork of bitter memories; every street corner bears the weight of choices made and opportunities lost. This place represents a chapter of my life I struggle to bury.

Regrets, disappointments—I tried to shove those aside a while ago, or at least attempted to.

Nevertheless, i made a promise to my mother about being there for Christmas. What foolishness it is to commit to something i might not fulfill. Yet, is it too late to reconsider? Can i claim i couldn't secure a flight on time?

Idiot; no turning back now. I wonder how much longer i'll keep evading my past.

"I just wish i don't run into her there," i murmur with a slight tremor in my tone. I knew all too well whom i was talking about.

It's exactly 9 o'clock, my train departs in about 30 minutes. Unfortunately, i'll be in Incheon in a few hours.

"I can't believe you're finally coming back here! I guess i'll have to spend Christmas at your mom's house if that's the case," a sharp, loud feminine voice speaks over the phone; Lusher, a childhood friend.

Lusher has always been with me throughout our high school years and even into adulthood. Despite me moving to Busan a few years ago, we've kept in touch. She always mentions how much she misses me and that i should visit more often, to which i consistently reply, "Maybe someday."

It seems that day has finally come.

"Stop. Don't get too excited; i don't intend to spend much time in this place," I retort, my tone indifferent.

"The entire city already knows you're coming back, Bada."

Briefly, i freeze and fall silent. I only plan to make a short visit to my family, precisely.

"Incheon is wide-ranging; i doubt everyone really knows," I reply, an attempt to reassure myself that my plans won't change.

"Lin knows."

As soon as she counters, i instinctively hang up the phone, my back colliding with the seat of the moving train.

This definitely cannot be happening.

I was praying fervently not to encounter her during my time in Incheon, and i hope it stays that way. Regardless, she wouldn't want to see me after all these years... no, she hates me. I hope she hates me.

It felt like time stood still; i couldn't tell whether i had plunged into a deep sleep during those four hours of travel or if i had ended up in a temporal lapse. I open my eyes, and there's Incheon Station outside the window.

The time has come to face this city once again, with people bustling around, knee-deep in Christmas preparations just hours away.

I step off the train, grab my luggage, and find myself compelled to smile at strangers who somehow recognized me, waving as they passed. Perhaps they did, considering i gained some visibility after opening my dance studio in Busan. Or maybe it's simply because i am notably taller than the average Korean women; either of these reasons would be plausible.

My eyes scan the surroundings, searching for a familiar figure in the crowd. Mom said she would be waiting at the end of the station, my next stop.

"Bada!" Someone yells my name amid that human sea, resembling canned sardines.

My older sister came to greet me, slightly shorter than me, with a delicate and sweet appearance framed by her impeccably cared-for dark brown hair and welcoming smile.

"Haeda!" i respond, happy to see a familiar face, rushing to hug her.

"Mom couldn't come; she's busy with preparations for the dinner later," she shares, helping me with the luggage. "Lots of people are excited to see you, little sister! We're glad you've come back."

"I haven't come back; i'm just joining you for this Christmas season," I respond seriously, making it clear my stay won't extend beyond Christmas.

"You've always been a bit grumpy, haven't you?" she laughs, teasingly.

Finally out of the station, we settle into a taxi. During the ride, we chat casually and laugh about things that happened during our time apart. I'm trying to have some fun as much as possible.

"So, how's your love life?" she asks, innocently.

Oh, crap.

"I don't really want to get into that," i reply, slightly irritated by the question. The fun and nice atmosphere that surrounded us moments ago seems to have abruptly evaporated.

"Seems like you still think about Lin," she murmurs softly to herself, sighing calmly, yet i hear her loud and clear.

I arch my eyebrows, surprised and bothered by Haeda's comment. I plan to stay silent, but i can't resist.

"Why do you always bring her into everything? It's been years since we last spoke; she was just a kid. Now, forget about it," i assert firmly aiming to put an end to the subject once and for all. The silence in the taxi becomes deafening.

Not even five minutes pass, and i ask the taxi make an unscheduled stop.

"Aren't you going home?" my sister inquires, confused.

"I promised to have lunch with Lusher; there's a café around here," i reply, still maintaining a slight arrogance in my voice.

"I'll drop your bags off at home then," she understands, nodding.

I step out of the vehicle and grab my phone, immediately calling Lusher, asking her to meet me where i am. She agrees without a second thought.

A short time passes, and i spot a girl of average height, black hair, always smiling, with a high-pitched voice that stands out in the crowd. She runs towards me as soon as she sees me.

"Is that really you, Bada? It's been ages since i saw you. Have you grown even more?" Lusher enthusiastically hugs me, talking without even taking a breath.

"Looks like you're still talkative... and no, of course, i haven't grown more. I'm already 26. Now I'm just going to shrink," i reciprocate her warm hug as we head to the café.

"Tell me, how's Busan? How's your studio doing? I want the whole scoop!"

"We don't have time for me to give you the full rundown. Overall, the city is comfy, and the studio is doing well," i say, a bit curt; i'm not one to drag out my words.

"That's it? Nothing interesting happening?" she says in a frustrated sigh, still curious about my life.

"I know where you're going with this, miss Lusher, but i'm not commenting on that. I'm kind of fed up with this topic," i respond, making my exasperation clear.

We lapsed into silence for a few minutes until someone finally spoke up; she seemed nervous.

"Listen, i messaged Lin yesterday." She pauses, intending to continue talking.

Lin, Lin, Lin—I'm tired of hearing that name.

"She seems to want to talk to you," Lusher finishes, taking a sip of her coffee.

"Unfortunate. I've already stated that I'm only here for Christmas with my family," i halt, clenching my fists, wanting to say more but finding myself unable.

"Bada, you know she was deeply hurt after you left." Lusher attempts to ease the situation. "After all, you left without telling anyone, not even me."

"I didn't have to tell anyone. I've said that before; new opportunities arose, and that's what happened. Am I to blame for considering my future?" I say, feeling a slight warmth in my body due to the anger this topic brings up

"There's no issue with you wanting to pursue your dreams; the problem was leaving her in the dark out of nowhere. I think you should talk."

"Lusher, i've had enough. I don't owe her any explanations, it's over. I've paved my own way, and she's chosen hers, end of story." Rising abruptly, i toss money on the table for Lusher to settle the bill and i make a swift exit.

I sense Lusher's gaze on me, even though i haven't cast a glance back after leaving the place.

This is why i hate this city—the people, the environment, everything reminds me of her. I despise it; I despise being so coward and weak, unable to endure an environment where her name lingers. Tears stream down my face as i silently reassure myself, "The past is the past; it'll be fine."

It won't be fine.

For quite a while, i just roam around the city, immersed in the festive Christmas decorations and the chilly yet pleasant atmosphere. Families stroll along snow-covered roads, little cafes are buzzling with events, and everyone radiates happiness, caught up in the joy of being together—while i meander alone. I'm the odd one out here.

The city lights gradually begin to flicker on, signaling the encroaching darkness. It's time to head home for the Christmas Eve feast, but before that, i need something to ease my stress.

I head to a nearby convenience store, searching for a pack of cigarettes. I randomly choose any available brand, pay, and head towards a secluded alley.

Turns out, i'm not the only one there; a woman next to me doing the same, and i can't quite see her face. I shake my pockets, searching for my lighter.

"Fuck..." i mutter softly as i lean against the wall, frustrated.

Suddenly, i notice something fall to the ground, accompanied by words.

"Pick it up," the woman, slightly mysterious but oddly familiar, says, tossing the lighter onto the snow-covered ground.

I quickly bend down to grab it. "Thanks," I express promptly, attempting to say something more. "Do you come here often?"

"Sometimes, only when i think about my ex." She pulls the cigarette calmly, allowing the smoke to envelop her face in a thin mist. An ephemeral cloud of smoke slowly wafts around me.

"We're in the same boat," i muse, giving a little laugh at her comment. "Does your ex smoke?"

"Since I've known her. She was always cautious so i wouldn't end up like her; nevertheless, here i am," she narrates with a tense tone.

"You shouldn't smoke; judging by your voice, you've quit for a long time. You should stop while you still can," i suggest while lighting my cigarette with the borrowed lighter.

"Look who wants to give me a moral lecture," she laughs, mocking. The whole situation is ironic.

"Pfft, you don't even know me; you probably think i'm a hypocritical smoker," i admit, in a casual tone.

"Definitely."

"Maybe i really am, but I still have feelings!" I laugh, playfully.

She seems serious now, and we stay silent for a few seconds.

"Have you ever thought about your ex's feelings when you two broke up?" she inquires, finishing her last drag before dropping the cigarette on the ground and crushing it under her foot.

I remain motionless, confused, and unsure of how to respond.

"I'm just messing with you; after all, i don't even know you." She lets out a nervous laugh before completely disappearing into the darkness of that dimly lit alley.

"I'm home," i announce, slipping off my shoes and opening the door.

My mother greets me with a smile as she sets the dining table with the help of my father and sister.

"You're here! It's so good to see you, dear," my mother smiles warmly and hugs me. The scent of kimchi fills the air; she must have been cooking for a long time.

"What's that smell of smoke..." She makes a disgusted face, and i quickly plan an excuse.

"There were some delinquents smoking in the streets; the smell must have clung to me," i say cautiously.

"Looks delicious," i observe the meal on the table after greeting everyone present, trying to change subjects. Despite my reservations about Incheon and the memories this city brings, i feel welcomed and relieved with my family by my side.

"Let's eat!" My father exclaims, excitedly, sitting down and preparing to enjoy the eagerly anticipated tteokguk, a unique skill of my mother.

A few minutes were left for the long-awaited December 25th, and the countdown unfolded gradually.

"I'm eager to know what you brought for us from Busan, little sister!"

"Did i have to bring a present?" I laugh ironically, joking. "Just kidding, i'm sure you guys will like it!"

1 minute to the 25th.

"Wow, i can already hear the neighbors starting the countdown," my sweet and dear mother says.

A sound echoes at the door.

"Knock, knock."

30 seconds to the 25th.

"Oh, let me get that!" I quickly get up from my seat and head to the door.

10 seconds to the 25th.

I grab the keys and swiftly unlock the door, while my family had already started the countdown.

"5... 4... 3... 2... 1..."

I can't believe who is on the other side of the door.

"Lin?"

"Merry Christmas!" the whole family celebrates in unison as i stand there, paralyzed, looking at my former love standing right in front of me.

aaand we're done! i don't know if i should make it a series or not since i'm the lazy type but lmk! also tysm for @/kiyaedits for the dividers. i hope you enjoyed this as much as i did, thank you for reading. ❄️

#bada lee x reader #bada lee #angst #light angst #swf2 x reader #swf2 #bada lee swf2 #bada x oc #bada x reader #sw fic #bada lee au #bada lee fanfic

[anemoi-i]

I swear, some of Mondstadt's best lore is behind either it's weapon series and/or weapons that detail Mondstadt's history.

Take a look at Freedom Sworn:

They say that a region's character follows that of its archon, and that this holds true both for the people and the land itself. But was it the unfettered archon who bestowed a love of freedom and wine upon the land and people amidst conflict? Or was it the people who nurtured the Anemo Archon's love of freedom as they pined for it amid the howling wind and frost?

The description goes on to say, "this is a question that can no longer be answered." But is this really true? Barbatos was a wind sprite by the nameless bard's side who observed his and the people's desire for freedom and the people of Mondstadt cared about their freedom. At that point in time, you can assume that Barbatos did NOT know he was going to ascend to become the Anemo Archon, so when he did, he became a newborn God who didn't really know what he wanted to be God of. Decarabian was called the God of Storms, but Barbatos is the God of Wind and Freedom. Had it been him strictly replacing Decarabian, he would be called the God of Storms, but he is not, and that is an important distinction. Sure, storms can be a result of harsh winds, but you'll remember that the winds of Mondstadt are always gentle and it is for this reason that Windwheel Asters can thrive and those that have watched for storms have a job "they hope they will never have to do" (based off a certain Mondstadt commission).

For the previous question, whether or not it was Barbatos that bestowed a love of freedom and wine to the people or whether or not the people nurtured Barbatos' love for freedom, why can't it be both? Barbatos saw the people suffering and next to the nameless bard, would come to understand the importance of their wishes and strive to make it so the people did not suffer again, even coming to the aid of Vennessa under the aristocracy centuries later.

It began with the people nurturing his love for freedom and ended with Barbatos carrying on their memories and ambitions, ensuring their efforts would not be in vain.

#genshin impact #venti #genshin theory #krisposting #txt

[ilyuu]

summertime drift.

the sun nigh, and a puff of wind drifting along with the air. heat abuzz, a hum of the world underneath you, as you spend some time with them. (or some small moments in the heat with them.)

ft. childe, dainsleif, diluc, kaeya, kazuha & yoimiya.

warnings : suggestive (kaeya), fluff, literally fluff everywhere and anywhere, kiths here and there, lmk if i missed anything!

childe.

ripples in the sea as you shuffle your way back into the shore. crisp air coats you, and the cold starts to crawl onto your skin - it’s a towel, dry, warm, that wraps around you that soaks you in its comfort. that and the pair of arms slipping around your waist, tugging you in. you catch a spark of red, sunlight reflecting off the jewel, and feel it graze your shoulder. that and droplets of seawater. you try to squirm out of his hold, onto for him to tighten his arms a bit, now trapping you in him.

little to no escape, you relax into him, and he reciprocates it with a peck atop of your head - you feel heat starting to bloom from there.

dainsleif.

puffs of clouds drifts in, and shadows are cast all upon the meadows as it veils the sun for a few minutes. flowers sway softly with the wisps of wind, tousling his hair - he’s found himself lying amid a field of blossoms, all vivid, all with life. in the haze of the heat, cicadas abuzz; blades of grass flowing; and a crisp touch to the breeze, he feels himself at… a peace. and said peace secures itself when he feels your fingertips raking his hair, sun-kissed locks slipping through the spaces of your fingers.

he closes his eyes for a moment, and let himself indulge in the moment’s peace with you. nothing but the tandem of heartbeats alive is all he hears.

diluc.

you take in sip after sip of a cold drink of your choice, feeling the heat in your skin, clothes, as the sun continues to rise, almost nigh. ice cubes shake around with every shift of movement, letting the frost seep into the the palm of your hand. at the corner of your eye, you see him staring at you - something that comes close to softness swirling in his irises. all he sees is you, nothing else, even in a moment as small and common as this. and from that point on, the ice cubes melting in your cup could do little to cool the heat in your cheeks.

and you return his gaze, his flits to the side - it’s then that a soft red, almost the shade of his hair, touched his skin.

kaeya.

a spoonful of ice cream, mists of ice floating from it, lingers just shy of your lips. there’s a smile on him, slowly curving up, and it’s to that you lean in a bit, enough to be closer to him, that you open your lips just slightly. it’s then that he took a bite out of it first, his eye softening with amusement at the look on your face, and it’s when his hand slipped to the back of your neck, pulling you towards him, that you feel how cold his lips are against yours (you can taste a mix of vanilla and chocolate chips.)

his tongue slowly teased your lips ajar, and as a sound slipped from you, you feel his fingers fall away from you - the pad of his thumb brushes your lower lip, swiping a bit of ice cream, and tasting it himself. (you turned your head to the side and he can only chuckle.)

kazuha.

underneath a shade, cast by a tree and its leaves, fluttering to the touch of a gentle breeze, you lie your head on his lap as you lift your arm, fingers splayed to try and touch one of the spots and dots of sunlight. it’s stolen away as his hand closes in on yours, the coolness of it all draws out a sigh from you, light, content. his gaze lightens, and it’s as if the sunlight melted with it. he pulls your hand just shy of his lips, brushing his lips across your wrist, back of your hand, to your knuckles.

his lips trailing across your skin, you feel a shiver slither up your spine as you stare up at him. he can feel it, and lets out a soft laugh, his smile clear and airy.

yoimiya.

amid the covers of a cold night, sparks lightened the skies. a thin streak shooting up into the air, only to then burst - a myriad of shades, at first, as brings life and light to the eyes that stares in awe. all before it slowly makes is descent back in the world, fading, faint, yet alive in its energy. yet it couldn’t compare to the light in her eyes, lively, true to the word, as she catches every second of its fleeting beauty and hopes. and it’s you she always shares it with, her hand seeking yours out, fingertips grazing, to only wrap in on yours.

her gaze strays to you, just for a moment, and her hold on your hands tightens every so slightly - a burst of feelings simmering in her chest, and all so positive and sweet.

general taglist (open!) : @zuyoo, @starz222, @haliyamori, @kazumist, @tartaglia-apologist, @mikacynth, @angelkazusstuff, @doumalove, @kpop-and-otome, @emo-mess, @kazuuaki . . .

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #genshin impact imagines #genshin imagines #genshin impact drabbles #genshin drabbles #childe x reader #childe x you #dainsleif x reader #dainsleif x you #diluc x reader #diluc x you #kaeya x reader #kaeya x you #kazuha x reader #kazuha x you #yoimiya x reader #yoimiya x you

[raayllum]

For Day Five of Snake Boi Callum Week: ruthlessness / temper Summary: Callum didn’t think he’d ever be compelled to use the blood freezing spell on anyone. He was wrong. Oneshot Word Count: 1.9k

Ch5: Some Say In Ice

Some say the world will end in fire, Some say in ice. From what I’ve tasted of desire I hold with those who favor fire. But if it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate To say that for destruction ice Is also great And would suffice.

—Fire and Ice, Robert Frost The celestial elves catch up to them easily.

Rayla supposes she should’ve known that they would. No plan she or Callum have ever made has ever, well, gone according to plan. There’s always a hitch or a slip or kind of snag. Usually it’s her. (Because she always chokes at the worst time. Even if Callum being the unexpected snag in her plans when she’d first come to the castle is the best thing that’s ever happened to her.)

This time, it’s just bad luck. 

She’s not sure why she’s thinking about their first meeting, as she and Callum stumble, sprinting best they can, through the snow, the stolen quasar diamonds in her pouch with the coins. The equally thieved Nova Blade in a sheath slung across Callum’s back alongside his staff.

Maybe it’s because they’re probably going to die, either because of the cold or because the celestial elves have gotten their hands on them. It seems like they’re almost always going to die. 

A sudden gust of wind kicks the snow up in their faces, feet skidding to a halt before the wall of wind can cut them. Rayla didn’t even know Sky magic could do that, Callum’s too helpful and gentle and—but Acheros hadn’t liked them even before they’d stolen from his people, the Skywing elf landing swiftly in front of them now.

He’s removed his blindfold, eyes wide and mad—crazed—as he takes out a sword and Rayla brings her blades up just in time to meet it. They clang, her feet struggling to find more purchase than usual amid the ice and snow. Acheros is bigger than her too, broader and taller, using every bit of it to her advantage. She wishes she’d spent more time sparring with Soren rather than running ragged after Viren.

“Callum!” she yells over the bitter, natural wind in their ears. “Run!”

#rayllum #snake boi callum week #snake boi callum #s6 speculation #will this happen? no but it'd be nice. it'd be funky fresh i think #like let him torture someone a lil - as a treat #tdp #the dragon prince #fic: i slithered here from eden

[wangxianficrecs]

Amid the Frost by LtLJ

Amid the Frost

by LtLJ

G, 5k, Wangxian

Summary: The Yiling Patriarch's demonic cultivation sect is invited to help fight a massive waterborne abyss. Exhausted and half-drowned from battling ghouls, Wei Wuxian meets Hanguang-jun. Kay's comments: This is an AU of an AU, basically, it was inspired by LtLJ's series "Fated", which I [and Mojo] also absolutely adore [Mojo's Rec]. Wei Wuxian grew up around the Burial Mounds and started his own sect with the Dafan Wens and here they have their first outing assiting the Lan Sect with dealing with the Waterborne Abyss. Lan Wangji meets him after the fight and takes care of him and ah, they are just so cute and I love how they immediately click, like two puzzle pieces fitting into place. Excerpt: "There is no need for thanks." Lan Wangji started to make tea, his movements precise and elegant. "You are one of the demonic cultivators." "Yes. You -- your sect -- invited us here." The feeling was returning to Wei Wuxian's hands and feet in pinpricks of sensation, the warmth of the tent sinking in, and what he actually wanted to do was curl up next to the braiser and sleep. "We had word of your efforts in Yiling, on the river that was affected by the Burial Mounds runoff." Lan Wangji placed a cup of tea in front of Wei Wuxian. "And it seemed obvious that you would be expert with ghouls." Wei Wuxian couldn't fault that logic. And until this moment he had wondered if maybe the Lan sect had invited them accidentally somehow, and not as a deliberate, sensible quest for helpful knowledge. "Sorry we haven't been more, um, friendly. I bet everyone thinks we won't invite people to our tent because it's full of demonic evil, but really we're worried that if the sects see our dirty laundry it'll ruin the whole Burial Mounds mystique." He still sounded like a raspy crow, rambling. He sipped the tea, the warmth clearing his thoughts, and pulled himself back to the point. "We've had some issues with the other sects, at times. The Jin, the Su."

pov wei wuxian, pov lan wangji, canon divergence, no sunshot campaign, the untamed canon, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, hypothermia, fluff, caretaking, cold weather, first meetings, different first meeting, yiling wei sect, getting to know each other

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

#Wangxian Fic Rec #The Untamed #wangxian #MDZS #Kay's Rec #pov wei wuxian #pov lan wangji #canon divergence #no sunshot campaign #the untamed canon #hurt/comfort #emotional hurt/comfort #hypothermia #fluff #caretaking #cold weather #first meetings #different first meeting #yiling wei sect #getting to know each other #Amid the Frost #LtLJ #Gen #short fic <15k

[aoxue]

岁寒三友 // Three Friends of Winter

In classical Chinese art and literature, the Three Friends of Winter refer to the trio of pine, bamboo, and plum. All three plants are celebrated for their tenacity and vitality even through the harshness of winter. Together, they symbolize the ideals of hope, determination, strength, and endurance in the face of adversity.

梅 // Plum: Resilience

The plum blooms in late winter, at a time when the rest of the world shows little sign of life or color. The first flower of spring, the plum blossom not only survives but blooms fearlessly and beautifully in the dead of winter, heralding the return of warmer, gentler days.

The chengyu 傲雪凌霜 àoxuě língshuāng (variously translated as “distant snow and bitter frost,” “gentry despite the frost,” “standing proudly despite the snow”) evokes the imagery of plum blossoms amid snow and can describe a person who is remarkably resilient, weathering the hardships of life with dignity and courage and coming out strong on the other side.

#song lan #song zichen #yi city #theuntameddaily #mdzs #this is a repost from january 2022 with a revised drawing... if you saw an earlier version pretend you didn't thank you #also before it gets to be proper APRIL. smh #aoxue.png #three friends of winter

[lephamquynhnhu]

Panacea

Chapter 2: Storm before the Blushing Morn

Dan Feng x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS/ TAGS: The reader has a default name, OOC, mentioned of blood. (This is a work of fanfiction, events are not aligned or relevant to the original work)

Word count: ~2k

Summary: He met you on a drizzling day when hydrangea fully bloomed on its field. Amidst the sea of mild pastel petals, Dan Feng never thought the flowery domain that intertwined your fate was the precise thing withered with you. They said he was a dragon, a hero, a sinner, but never a person with love, hatred, sorrow, or joy like everyone else in this world. However, it was a demi-truth. He committed the cardinal sin because of you.

Note: Do you like...pain?

He revisited on a sprinkle day, his signature ambergris aroma mixed with the freshness of humid forest note. You did not know why, but the High Elder seemed to be into rainy days because every time he came, water definitely showered outside. It has been weeks since you met him for the first time, and thanks to the frequency of his visits, you learn that the nonchalant Imbibitor Lunae gradually displays the other side. Although Dan Feng never clearly shows his emotion, you can tell his mood through the draconic tail. When he feels happy, his tail swings side to side and stands still as its owner is interested in or concentrates on whatever your information. In addition to your surprise, he sometimes even punchlines on your venting stories.  

Under the Mulan's foliage, you slowly gaze at the kaleidoscope sky after rain. A mid-summer breeze that carries the scent of white flowers softly blows through, driving the ripples to gleam on the water's surface. 

Immersing in your haze, you forget what was going to do until the Long Scion gives out his curiousness about the bush of Datura Metel in a corner garden. 

"I have studied an organic pesticide which extracts from their active agents." - The elegant smell of lotus still glistens in the morning dew perfumes in your lungs when nudging into them. Suddenly, you shove the flower cart into his arms and tell him to wait for you at a nearby wooden bench. Dan Feng thinks eternal Spring never leaves this sunlit Shangri-La as he wipes the Mulan's petals out of the seat because the flora seems to blossom in four seasons. 

While idly watching Koi fish under silky leafages, the High Elder does not notice you snicker behind. A forgotten raindrop stagnates on the lotus leaf trail like a lost pearl, arousing the quiet pond like his emerald orbs rising in astonishment. Amid the multi-colored palette, Dan Feng finds your smile is the most gorgeous flower when you abruptly pop up with a posy of Emperical Peony. The beam you flashed him still lingering in his mind as Dan Feng reluctantly takes the gift. Your hands lightly brush together via the exchange, reminding him of the existence of those black gloves since he has not seen you take them off once. Nevertheless, he lets it pass and dances his slender finger around the ombre corolla instead.  

"Thank you, Yi Ting." - Imbibitor Lunae softly mutters under his breath, and as the lost ray shines through frost winter, a faint smile stretches on his usually glacial face. 

On that day in the summer season, Dan Feng realizes that he does not return to your place because of its spectacular. He wants to revisit the Shangri-La because he likes spending time with you.

On an Autumn afternoon painted in a burnt orange hue and wafting with a ripe persimmon scent, you are leisurely proceeding to the Dan Feng's residence while absentmindedly grazing a bunch of white chrysanthemums in hand. Looking at the High Elder Statue at the Dragonvista Rain Hall, your mind winds up reminiscing about the previous conversation.

"Yes?" - Transfering your focus toward his position, you represented the confusion as if hearing him wrong. The quiet Long Scion might befriend you and be your custom guest, but it was an extraordinary phenomenon since Dan Feng has not asked you to deliver flowers to his estate before. He patiently repeated the order while reading his scroll in one hand, and the other halfway was lifting the teacup with expressionless features. Looking at his relaxing manner, you unknowingly realize this house became Imbibitor Lunae's office. 

When immersing thought in the past, you are suddenly pulled back to the present by a low thud of a light collision with a follow-up painful cry. Tears are bubbling in the Vidyadhara child's doe eyes as she feels the pain. You swiftly support her to stand up and inspect the body while trying to comfort the child, which results in two news in this situation. A good one is a scratch, and the bad is her cry getting louder even though you used up all your tricks. 

"Pain, Pain goes away!" - You singsong to conjure an apple lollipop appearing in hand, and tears stop falling as she eyes your apologetic smile with compensation. When you clean the last drop of trail wet on her chubby cheekbones and apologize with head patting, other Vidyadhara children circle you to admire the little show. A defeated sigh escapes your breath as you look at their twinkle glims and secretly count the remaining candy's quantity. Unfortunately, in addition to your trouble, with an invitation from a brunette-haired boy, the group of children tugs your sleeves to play blind man's buff with their puppy eyes. 

"Alright, but I won't be lenient." - You confidently state when settling the bouquet on a stone bench. And you keep your line.

Once darkness invades the vision, you start to track down the children. By listening to their footsteps and sensing the airflow, you catch all of them except Ma Tian, the boy with sheen eyes who cleverly outclasses your skill. Finally, thanks to your florist's exceptional technique, you discreetly declare the endgame while detecting his fabric detergent in the wind's stream. 

"Catch ya, little brat!" - You happily exclaim your victory when circling your arms around Ma Tian's figure. However, you immediately realize something is wrong as a familiar ambergris cologne lingers on your nose, and you are hugging a lean body. Hurriedly removing the blindfold, you see Dan Feng mimic your shocked expression while Ma Tian lolls out his head behind the Long Scion. 

"How long do you intend to embrace me?" - The High Elder clears his throat with a light reprimand nuance laces in but does not seem annoyed. If there is anything you would admire about Imbibitor Lunae besides his glorious feats, the quick recovery from an embarrassing situation is one of them. As soon as you two detach, Dan Feng grabs the bouquet and leads you out of the Scalegorge Waterscape, leaving the cheerful goodbyes of those children behind. You do not understand why Dan Feng is rushing in his strides until you see a pink tint on his tip ears. 

When the sunset light turns golden on the greenery beneath, which gets everything basked in the look of burnished copper, you two arrive at the military memorial area where illustrious warriors rest in peace. Passing through hundreds of black marble graves glides their name, Dan Feng unravels your holding hands as he crunches down to place the chrysanthemum bouquet in front of a stone-carved Bai Heng. 

You know that name. She was once a High-Cloud quintet member and a gifted pilot who sacrificed in the third Denizen of Abundance. People say Imbibitor Lunae is never a person with love, hatred, sorrow, or joy like everyone else in this world, but now you can shout out they are all wrong because of the unfathomable somber besieges in his orbs.

"Life is so short when it comes to mortal organisms'' - He mouths in a calm and unwavering tone after a long silence - "No matter what you do, they definitely die." With his back turned to you, it is challenging to figure out its meaning, yet you can degust a longing taste entangled in that clause. Forgotten fragments of sunlight slowly die on your heels while trekking to the way out, and the crescent vaguely takes place in the saturated navy sky. Although the High Elder rarely shared his thoughts with someone else, you hardly agree with this viewpoint.

 "Even if it is short-lived, even if fate sometimes turns tragic, limited longevity creates the beauty of lives and valuableness because we learn to cherish life, and not all farewells are regretful. Sometimes, death is also an extrication, and I believe we will rendezvous on another horizon." 

Dan Feng follows your graze to the glitter crepuscule, causing the mellow ray to cradle his features. - "Someday, you also turn into ashes?" - A sliver of bitterness in the question soon morphed into those cyan irises as you confirmed with your bright smile. When the two of you pass through the gate, Imbibitor Lunae abruptly informs you of his next arrival with special requests that combine with osmanthus cake and jasmine tea. It is the first time he proactively reserves in advance because Dan Feng neither notices his attendance nor does he appear on sunny days.  

"Do I have to wait for the rain to meet you?" - Only one sentence, it has changed your relationship ever since. You guess that might be the way he expresses his feelings. 

In a dream, I see myself in my childhood state with a bouquet of blue hydrangeas. Strolling by the seashore, the shells confound in golden sand rustles underneath my bare feet as I search for someone. End then, an abnormal bloodred butterfly hovers around to lead me toward that person; we have passed zillions of landscapes and territories, from glacial rivers where white snow permanently coats mounts to the vast rug crafted by countless vivid blossoms. From the nameless barren deserts with magnificent starry nights crown aloft to the rich prairie possesses coast breezes. I keep going, going.

"Hydrangeas is the soulmate of rains." A distant voice echoes from those feeble wings in the entire journey. It feels like Amber Periods have flown until we reach a field with full-bloom hydrangeas that unfold our presence. Suddenly, my companion disappears into thin air, and I notice a nostalgic glimpse waving his hand from afar as if he has been waiting for me for an astronomical long time. 

"You got my wish fulfilled... Thank you, my comrade." - The boy says in a gentle demeanor. His blue eyes shine brighter than any stars I have ever known, and he also disappears like the bloodred butterfly. His silhouette dissipates into thousands of flower petals as he flashes a warm smile toward me. 

"Wait, H...H..." - A tsunami of impuissant waves brews into my heart when I try to call his name, but none of the syllables come out, and tears continuously cascade from my eyes while I witness the lost world fading.

You wake up from a soothing noise of hot steam oozing out of your old kettle and forget the dream cleanly. "You had a fever." - A low tone voice diagnoses as soon as Dan Feng senses your consciousness. Slightly lifting the heavy eyelids, you see him situating beside your headboard with a botanical book in hand. The glorious sun is far high hanging in the sky to pour its honeyed light through your window, which informs you to oversleep impliedly. You do not notice tears rolling down until the Long Scion points out in skimming your complexion and uses his thumb to caress the trail wetness. Sensing no engagement in conversation, Dan Feng shifts his hand to cover your eyesight and tenderly leans forward.

You only feel a pillowy touch on your forehead afterward. 

"Please do not leave the bed today, and take the medicine on time because this is a prescription from the High Elder." - He faux-orders when rendering your vision. Astoundedly grazing the lingering sensation, you did not know that Imbibitor Lunae has a bizarre way of assessing the temperature. 

Winter at Shangri-La never experiences snow, yet it takes some seasonal features such as the gloomy weather all day with northeast wind seething through every direction. Inspecting the murky clouded skyward, you tug the scarf closer when your breaths dimly turn into silver smoke. As soon as you attempt to lift the white lily cart, a hot stream of fluid smelling like rusty iron runs down your chin, which the soil absorbs its falling drops. When you bring your hand to clean the water, it takes a moment to process it is blood. Your irises squeeze as you dumbfoundedly stare at the ivory gloves tainted with the crimson hue. Just as you intend to step forward, the surrounding spins around as though Earth and Heaven are twitching position, and you kneel only to cough out blood that permeates the fabric. The pollen sparkles in the ether after the collapse, and the shivering lily's petals in chilly winds are the last things in your blurring vision.

#honkai star rail fanfic #honkai star rail x reader #hsr fanfic #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr x you #dan feng x you #hsr dan feng #hsr dan feng x reader #dan feng x reader #dan feng fanfic

[larimar]

rami_astro

The first full moon of 2024 rose over Earth on Thursday (Jan. 25), in the form of January's Wolf Moon. 

Eye of the Wolf 🐺🌕

Why the Wolf Moon?

The January full moon takes its name from packs of hungry wolves that would howl outside native American villages amid the cold and deep snows of winter, according to NASA. Alternative names of this moon are: Cold Moon, Frost Exploding Moon, and Hard Moon.

#full moon #january 25th 2024 #leo #wolf moon #nasa #astronomy #sky #stars

[wangxianficfinder]

YilingWei Sect AU

~*~

and having a marvelous time by varnes (E, 108k, WangXian, Sound of Music AU, (i know!!! i know. stay with me on this.), Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Family Feels, spies to lovers???, Protective Siblings, Sometimes You Just Want Your Dads To Admit They're Your Dads, Angst with a Happy Ending)

❤️ Restoration by ritualist (M, 84k, WangXian, Fairy Tale Elements, Non-Linear Narrative, Time Skips, Time Shenanigans, YL WWX, Sentient Burial Mounds, Sunshot Campaign, Politics, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, JGS Is His Own Content Warning, Necromancy, Surgery, Identity Issues, Yílíng Wèi Sect, Love at First Sight, Mutual Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending)

❤️ love, in fire and blood by cicer (E, 360k, WangXian, NieLan, Canon Divergence, YL WWX, Arranged Marriage, political scheming, Gratuitous Domesticity, Mutual Pining, EXTREME SLOWBURN, the inherent eroticism of the forehead ribbon, The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known, neither wwx nor lwj want to be Perceived, bottom lwj in chapter 20 and 27)

💖 Echo, Murmur, Dream, Here by bluerainmist (M, 51k, wangxian, canon divergence, WWX survives, sect leader WWX, yiling wei sect au, slow burn, angst w/ happy ending, getting together, pining, love confessions, reunions, mind all the tags)

❤️ The Yiling Wei Clan Series by scifigeek14 (G, 45k, wangxian, Staying (Podfic) by lalaspodfics)

body and soul by TooSel (E, 41k, wangxian, canon divergence, fix-it, marriage proposal, politics, yiling wei sect au, friends to lovers, angst w/ happy ending)

🧡 Vow by draechaeli (E, 216k, Canon Divergence, BeliefGod!WWX, Adoption but WWX birthed them all, Pregnancy Kink, Mpreg, Mainly Novel with a few CQL and Donghua bits, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Temporary Character Death, WWXs dead for a lot of this, but he’s having fun, Unintentional "Sect leader" WWX)

🧡 #WarPrizeJiSeason by PorcupineGirl (T, 15k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, YL WWX, Warprize LWJ, Yiling Wei Sect, Mistaken Identity, Identity reveal)

Amid the Frost by LtLJ (G, 5k, WangXian, Canon Divergence,CQL Verse, Hurt/Comfort, Comfort/Comfort, Fluff, Different first meeting, Waterborn Abyss, YL WWX)

💖 hot necromancer singles seeking dom daddies in your area by Mikkeneko (M, 19k, wangxian, yiling wei sect au, BDSM scene, dom/sub, brat wwx, rope bondage, caning, aftercare)

Grave dirt by esama (T, 92k, wangxian, canon divergence, yiling wei sect au, demonic cultivation, farming, found family, pre-slash, politics, fix-it of sorts)

Turnabout and Start Again by runningondreams (T, 34k, wangxian, temporary character death, role reversal, soulmates, blood & injury, suicide, imprisonment, violence, gore, pining, identity issues, getting together, happy ending, WIP)

Cradle by Dragonesque (T, 195k, WIP, Canon Divergenc, Adopted children, Yiling Wei Sect, BAMF WWX)

the impracticality of zithers as weapons by sushicorps (Inclinant) (E, 56k, wangxian, LXC/JGY, canon divergence, yiling wei sect au, slow burn, pining, fluff, angst w/ happy ending, hurt/comfort, established relationship, fix-it of sorts, forgiveness, found family, marriage)

The road to our happiness by lanondolce (M, 25k, wangxian, canon divergence, LWJ pov, role swap, angst, YLLZ WWX, WIP, Abandoned)

Arrivals in Yiling by Crystelia (G, 5k, Wangxian,Canon Divergence, yiling wei sect, YL WWX, Demonic Cultivation, farmers, Reconciliation, Sect Leader WWX, Light Angst)

Sunshower in Yiling Series by Aki_no_hikari (T/G, 24k, WangXian, Canon Divergence wwx is a genius and don't let anyone tell you otherwise, Light Angst, Introspection, Pining, Family Fluff, Battle Couple, Yílíng Wèi Sect, Teacher WWX, Family Drama)

The Murder of Crows by cerbykerby (M, 101k, wangxian, slow burn, pining, yiling wei sect au, fluff & angst, dark, romance, WIP)

a star called sun by thelastdboy (E, 76k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Heavy Angst, Self-Worth issues, Amputation, Situational Mutism, Slow burn, Angst with a happy ending)

a sentimental illness by butchgoth (GremlinGirl) (E, 9k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Yílíng Wèi Sect, YL WWX, Fuck Or Die, Mutual Pining, Shifu WWX, Minor Original Character(s), Cultivation Discussion Conferences, Love, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Light Angst, Happy Ending)

pitiful destiny, point your finger at me by sassybluee (E, 66k, WangXian, Royalty, Yílíng Wèi Sect, Burial Mounds, Arranged Marriage, Pining while fucking, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Secret Identity, Under-negotiated Kink, wangixan's canonical lack of lube, Donghua YLLZ, CQL LWJ, Top/Bottom Versatile | Switch WangXian, Identity Porn, Porn with Plot, Resentacles, YL WWX, Additional Warnings In Author's Notes, Breathplay, Breeding Kink, Semi-Public Sex, Mpreg)

Due Process by Kytrin, Mslead (E, 279k, WangXian, XiChengSang, Poly Junior Quartet, Modern AU, Foxxian, dragonji, Genderfluid WWX, WWX identifies as male, Organized Crime, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, mentions of child abuse, Angst with a Happy Ending, Found Family, Reincarnation)

The Yiling Laozu is Crashing the Cultivation Conference! by Basingstoke (G, 5k, WangXian, yiling wei sect, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence)

Crush and Conquer by Papriqua (E, 4k, wangxian, different first meetings, humor, rough sex, rape/non-con elements, dubious consent, breeding kink, yiling wei sect, for like 5 mins but still!)

The Trouble With Politics: a Treatise on Jiang Sect Deputies Gone Rogue by Sect Leader Wei Wuxian by stiltonbasket (G, 40k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence,Yílíng Wèi Sect, or: the one where yu zhenhong is a wild card, Smitten LWJ, Domestic Fluff, Politics, Happy Ending, Sect Leader WWX, Fix-It of Sorts, JZX still dies though)

💖 Grey Area by pearliegloom (M, 31k, wangxian, yiling wei sect au, sect leader WWX, LWJ stays at Burial Mounds, found family, secret marriage, angst, eloping, reconciliation, fix-it)

Bury My Heart on the Lonely Mountain by MidnightInTheGardenWithGhosts (TrappedInCabinets) & TrappedInCabinets (E, 74k, wangxian, dark au, fix-it of sorts, getting together, dark a-yuan, yiling wei au, mean WWX, not everyone dies au, hurt/comfort, angst w/ happy ending, misunderstandings, 1st part, finished, 2nd part WIP)

black milk of daybreak, drunk at sundown by stiltonbasket (G, 3k, nielan, wangxian, fix-it of sorts, war trauma, not everyone dies au, yiling wei sect)

💖 Magical Marriage Ribbons series by starandrea (M, 906k, WIP, wangxian, ongoing, animal transformations, weddings) Yiling Wei sect from part 24 onwards.

Communication AU series by Dgcakes (ficsnfun) (T, 41k, wangxian, fix-it of sorts, angst w/ happy ending, fluff, slow burn, trust, family, WIP)

I dreamt I was missing by Vientchat_Kanaryo (T, 42k, wangxian, canon divergence, eventual romance, slow burn, mental health issues, hurt/comfort, adopted sibling relationships, WIP) Yiling Wei Sect WWX’s disciples, including MXY, XY, and AQ, take part in the Mo Manor and Dafan Mountain investigations.

An Outsider's Guide to Demonic Cultivation by caessura (T, 53k, WIP, YL WWX, Yílíng Wèi Sect, Canon Divergence, Demonic Cultivator LSZ, LSZ is a Wèi, Isolated Yílíng Wèi Sect, Demonic Cultivation, expanded demonic cultivation abilities, some discussion of trauma and ptsd, mute character, Burial mounds: the next generation, OC POV, jyl is alive,OC driven)

graveyard whistling Series by ryneisaterriblefan (T/G, 12k, WangXian, BAMF! WWX, Angst and Humor, Identity Reveal, Canon Divergence, Pretend death, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Crying, Protective LWJ, Protective WWX, Oblivious Couple)

lost in the lights by vastlyunknown (M, 32k, WangXian, ChengQing, NieLan, (past), enemies to lovers, but only in name, Morally Grey Characters, questions of purity politics and fanatism, modern with magic, AU Hurt/Comfort, Wound Tending, fluff and angst in almost equal measure but mostly fluff and plot, long lost confessions)

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#Wangxian Fic Rec #The Untamed #wangxian #MDZS #wangxianficfinder compilation post #long post #yilingwei #yiling wei #yiling wei sect au #yilingwei sect au