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#adventure time tree fort
veeferns · 3 months
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the treehouse minus the treehouse
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(I used that concept design to edit because I tried it with the final version and the base is was to hard to do, because it's covered with a whole house, but this one is much less covered so it was easier)
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foxsketch6543 · 6 months
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Finn and Jake’s TreeHouse 🌳🎮🕹️⚔️🏠
🤜🤛
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j4gm · 7 months
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SPOILERS!!! REFERENCES AND EASTER EGGS IN F&C ep. 1: FIONNA CAMPBELL
Here's a bunch of stuff I spotted. Feel free to add more.
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During the anime girl hero dream Fionna mentions Hans Brinker, a character from a novel which introduced speed skating to the United States.
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The BMO style alarm clock has BMO's voice.
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The ducks that steal Marshall Lee's money look like one-headed versions of the two-headed duck from the original Adventure Time title sequence.
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Cheers is a real sitcom. Simon previously sang its theme song in the episode Simon & Marcy, and now it seems to have manifested in the human AU due to his connection with it.
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Fionna says "stop acting crazy" to Cake with the same meter as Marceline said "stop acting crazy" to Ice King in the episode I Remember You.
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We all spotted this in the trailer but there's a Magic Man hat in this shot. Magic Man's hat was most recently seen being worn by Betty.
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The Betty statue also suggests that Simon's psyche has significant influence over this world. The fountain includes frogs, a symbol of change that was previously also used in Temple of Mars. And Fionna mentions the statue underwent renovation twelve years ago, which is the same amount of time that's passed in the prime universe since Betty's amalgamation with GOLB.
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It would seem Mrs. Abadeer runs a vacuum cleaner company as well as being Fionna's landlady. And Queenie runs an accounting business as well as the tour bus.
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The stickers on Marshall Lee's guitar case are all references to real life punk rock bands. X-Ray Pex = X-Ray Spex, Daikini Kill = Bikini Kill, PM might be a reference to AM as in the Arctic Monkeys. I'm not sure what Las Crudas and Dark Eyes are references to. Perhaps someone more familiar with punk rock can let me know?
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In case you were wondering, the credits confirm that this is human genderswapped Fern. It's a bit more obvious now that we can see all her green clothes and backpack, and given what she said about her dreams being super messed up. I'm not gonna go through the rest of the cameo characters in this episode because most of them are pretty obvious or already got figured out when the trailer dropped. That said, if anyone knows who the bus driver is meant to be please let me know.
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The sword in the window of this games shop looks very similar to Fionna's sword from the original comic series.
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The latte that Gumball - ahem I mean Gary - makes in this scene features PB's swan.
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Okay one more cameo mention because I feel like it might become significant later. This is Ice Queen.
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Fionna and Cake are dreaming about their apartment block in the credits of this episode, but it has a roof like the Tree Fort and the same little boat with a telescope and parasol.
Episode 2 to follow!
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upsidedownmvnson · 1 year
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I love Eddie's little somethings, what would his reaction be when he finds out that you keep all the things he's made for you, you've pressed, dried, and kept a lot of flowers he got for you and stuck them in a scrapbook etc
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STOP - they're talking about this post <3 but specifically this one;
when [eddie's] meant to give you gift (birthdays/holidays etc) he prefers to make something. one time he recorded two cassettes of himself playing all your favourite songs, one slow, instrumental & acoustic for studying, and one how they were meant to be sang for jamming. he's also made a popsicle stick diorama of your childhood tree fort that was torn down, and a DnD campaign on your birthday based on your favourite fantasy movie
so i imagine that eddie is like a outside cat
he finds shiny trinkets and brings them to you, the spoils of his adventures. but then curl up on your lap lol
he'd bring you anything, a pretty flower (or weed), a pinecone that looked funny, a pretty leaf, and he doesn't think you'll want them... he just likes to show you stuff
one day he's waiting for you in your room, you just had to run across the street to grab something for your mother from a neighbour, he couldn't come because he wasn't supposed to be over when your parents aren't home
and he's poking around for fun
not spying or snooping, you always let him look through your things bc you have nothing to hide, when the spine of a book catches his eye
it looks like a photo album, but when he pulled it out he wasn't surprised to see a picture of the two of you stuck to the front, and also little heart stickers. it was your favourite picture, eddie was in his throne, and you were across his lap, legs flopping over the armrest. you were both smiling so wide for the picture, because it had been the day eddie made a dnd campaign based on your favourite movie for your birthday, and you two had exchanged your first 'i love yous' in front of hellfire because you couldn't contain your love anymore (i should write a full imagine for this me thinks)
but when he opened it he realized it was a scrap book
the inside cover page was your character from that day (your fav character from the movie)
and the next page was filled with flowers, all pressed flat and dry, assembled intricately around post-it notes, taped down with little passages on them. some were quotes. some were reasons you loved eddie. some were little memories you didn't want to forget.
he was so fixated on the book that he had to sit down, his eyes glossing over from reading all the sweet things you thought about him
it was more real, seeing things you'd written without assuming eddie would see it. it was your real, pure feelings for him.
he flipped thru the pages to find all sorts of things like that. notes he'd written you & left in your locker or passed to you in class. tickets to movies or shows you'd gone to.
a tear landed on the page, and it shocked eddie. he was crying. he was so happy. it made no sense to him, how someone like you could invest all your time and love into him.
his heart was so full
"awh, baby," you'd say from the doorway, leaning on it. "it wasn't supposed to make you cry."
and he'd discard the book beside him, saying nothing but opening his arms so you would come sit with him.
and of course you did, straddling him, and letting him bury his head in your shoulder. he sniffled, his shoulder shaking gently from the overwhelming feelings he was having. he'd never ever felt like this.
"it's beautiful, thank you for making that."
and he'd also collected everything you'd ever given him, and he would for sure be making one of this to keep at his house.
you would rub his hair, soothing him and whispering sweet things, reminding him that you love him, and more importantly that he was worth all the love. you wanted him to know he deserved it. deserved the whole damn world <3
"okay but check this out"
and you'd take him over to a shelf that had the popsicle stick diorama of your childhood treehouse and took it down.
he'd noticed it had a hinge on the back, but he hadn't put it there
you had carefully cut the glue to the roof so it could open like a hatch, and inside you'd made it even better, painting it to actually look like the fort, and adding some little doll furniture. it was an idea dustin had thrown out while they were making it but he'd never been inside.
he wanted to ask if it was accurate but there was more
there were all kinds of things stuffed in there, it looked like a squirrel was living in there.
and he realized it was the spoils of adventure that he'd brought you. pinecones, rocks, a fake quarter, the monopoly dog, a gum wrapper with a joke on it
and he wanted to cry again but he didn't, instead just put the treehouse away, and pulled you in for the biggest bear hug ever.
he picked you up and spun you around a few time, before walking you over to the bed so he could drop you on it, climbing on top of you to kiss you, and so eddie show you how much he really appreciated it
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@angstflayer-council 24 hour writing challenge!
prompt: forest | word count: 1,233 | rated: G
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The town of Hawkins is laid out weird.
The richest neighborhoods built with maybe a couple hundred yards of forest between them and the Forest Hills trailer park.
“I don’t want to see that rubbish out my window.” Steve’s mother would say as she closed all the blinds at the back of the house come winter. Something beyond the bare trees that Steve could never see, and she didn't want to.
“You be careful in those woods now, Eddie. Don’t wanna see ya gettin’ hurt.” Wayne would warn. Never telling him to stay out, just a “Be careful.” since he knew Eddie would go no matter what.
That couple hundred yards of forest was Steve’s favorite place to go; it was Eddie’s favorite place to go.
At the halfway point between their homes, they made a place all their own. The place they met.
Whenever Steve felt alone, he would go to their spot.
Whenever Eddie felt like a burden, he would go to their spot.
Steve wouldn’t be alone, and Eddie could never be a burden to his friend.
They would play there together in the spring when Eddie would visit for Easter, all summer long when Steve was on break from school (Eddie too, visiting his Uncle for the season). During the short extra hours of Thanksgiving before they would have to go back for dinner. Every bright, freezing day of winter break.
Every day was some sort of adventure, either one that Eddie’s uncle had read to him about from those Ring Lord books he loved, or an adventure all his own! Eddie was always telling some sort of story.
The short hills and valleys became foxholes, sticks and branches were swords and bows, giant spoons to stir a potion of mud and bugs, the walls of a fort just for them.
“Hear ye, Hear ye! Beloved denizens of Harringson county, Fort Steddie is now complete!” Eddie declared loudly, putting the last leafy branch onto the lopsided roof. It was the summer after Eddie officially moved to Hawkins. They were 11.
“Steddie?”  
Eddie jumps down from the tree he’d latched onto to get up to the roof and pushes the short curls he’s managed to grow back since last year off his forehead. “Yeah, like Steve and Eddie mushed together. Duh.”
“Not..Eddeve? Why not just call it Fort Harringson?”
“All options were considered, Stevie,” Eddie assures, holding one palm up, his other hand resting behind him on his lower back. “Steddie had a better ring to it.”
“You have a better ring to it.” Steve teases, running off immediately, Eddie not far behind with his favorite branch-turned-sword.
A scant two years later, Steve and Eddie share their first kiss under the roof of Fort Steddie, in the heart of Harringson County.
Two more finds them nearly coming to blows. 
Eddie embarrassed Steve. On the very first day of High School. Steve doesn’t even fucking remember what it was that Eddie did now, the actual offence lost to time.
The last time he and Eddie were together in those woods?…Wasn’t.
“It’s high school Eddie, I wanted to–to be cool!”
“Well, I think you’re cool. Doesn’t that count for something?”
Eddie’s hair is longer now, it curls under his ears and Steve still remembers how it had felt between his fingers.
“No! ‘Cause you’re not cool! You’re a nerd!” Steve remembers he regretted those words immediately after they left his mouth. No. He regretted them as they were coming out.
Eddie’s jaw had clenched.
“Eddie–”
He turned on his heel and marched back towards his trailer.
“Fine! Walk away! Just like everyone else in my life!” What was he talking about? His parents weren’t around enough to walk away.
Eddie doesn’t look back. He only pauses to grab his backpack where he’d dropped it against a tree.
After that day, Steve feels alone whenever he enters the woods behind his house.
Every day since then, he’s wanted so badly to tear apart that lopsided little fort in the middle of the forest.
But he couldn’t.
He couldn’t bear to tear down the only place he’d ever had where he didn’t feel alone.
He couldn’t bear to tear down the place of his first kiss with the man he still loves.
For years, Fort Steddie sits empty. 
Steve and Eddie will both deny ever going back, but of course they had. Always missing each other, in heart and in reality.
It was the first place Steve thought of when Dustin barreled into Family Video looking for Eddie in March of ‘86, but he couldn’t get the words out. His mouth denying his brain’s demands to tell them about their spot in the forest.
So he kept quiet, letting the others figure out where else Eddie might be, promising to check there himself as soon as he had a chance.
Luckily though, they had found Eddie. In Reefer Rick’s boathouse of all places. Steve’s first thought when getting threatened with a broken bottle to the throat (after “Oh thank fuck you’re safe.”) was that it was good Eddie hadn’t hidden at their fort, it was too obvious of a spot.
Much later, while walking through the freezing cold upside-down Hawkins, Robin questions the little shelter they come across when almost to Eddie’s trailer.
“Is this Castle Byers?” She asks, sticking her head into the little door.
“No,” Steve and Eddie say at once.
Robin and Nancy both give them a weird look, but Eddie barrels forward, “We shouldn’t be that far now; I built this in the woods outside my trailer when I first moved in with Wayne.”
Eddie jogs forward to reach them, he and Nancy heading up the group now, Robin trailing behind.
Steve gives the fort a wistful look as he passes, then jogs forward as well, further into the fray.
They push on; they plan, they build weapons, Eddie builds a shield. Dustin copies him.
When Steve, Robin, and Nancy head back towards those same woods, the forest’s sure safety replaced in his gut by pure dread, Eddie stops Steve with an unsure “Hey Steve? Make him pay.”.
Steve loses it.
He stomps back the three steps he’d taken, grabs Eddie by the open flaps of his jacket and vest, and kisses him.
It only takes half a second for Eddie to kiss him back; their lips falling into rhythm as if no time had passed at all.
“What did I just tell you, Eddie?” Steve questions the dumbfounded metalhead under his hands, ignoring Robin and Dustin’s wolf-whistles while zipping up the protective layers his dumb of ass, beloved Eddie was about to leave open to the unforgiving world around him.
He can see how red Eddie’s face is, even in this dark hellscape. “What’d yo– You sa–”
“I said.” Steve emphasizes, pulling up the thick plastic zipper of Eddie’s new vest. “Don’t try to be cute, don’t be heroes.” he hooks his fingers into the armholes of the armored clothing, holding Eddie close. “You can’t help the ‘cute’ part, but you can help the second part.”
Eddie continues to stare at him, dumbfounded.
“Keep him safe, Eddie. Keep yourself safe too.” He looks him over once again. “I’ve been alone in those woods for too damn long. I’d like to keep you around once this is over.” he whispers, smirking at the other man.
"I-I will.."
Steve steps back, walking backward toward the woods, toward the Creel house, “It’s not quite Fort Steddie without the ‘Eddie’, you know.” Eddie’s own smirk climbs onto his face despite his attempts to frown it away.
Steve finally turns, walking away with Robin hanging off his side, no doubt berating him about the…all of that that just happened.
Speaking of: “Holy shit Eddie, what the fuck was all that??”
“Language, Henderson.”
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i originally posted this as the shorter angsty-er version but i liked the rest of what i wrote too much not to post the whole thing 😅 so if you saw the first version, i hope you like the additions lmao
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forsaken-at-one · 6 months
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Media: Adventure Time
Pairing: Finn Mertens/fem!Reader
TWs: Smut, altered state of mind, oral, p in v sex, outdoor sex, unprotected sex, getting caught naked, kinda implied pregnancy, usage of (Y/N), reader is explicitly called 'girl' in the story and referred to with feminine pronouns and has female anatomy.
Characters are meant to be around 20.
Pov second person
Summary: After accidentally dropping an important item into the pond by the tree fort (Y/N) dives in after it. Knowing the possible danger Finn comes to rescue her but both end up in the other dimension.
Minors DNI please and thank you!
You sat near the pond focused on your handy work. You were currently sewing a little costume for BMO who wanted to dress up as a princess. To make the little one happy you used some of your savings, probably more than you'd care to admit, on buying a little custom made crown for the small console.
Right now you studied the blue gem inlaid into the shiny metal frame to make sure the colors you chose for the dress were complementing it well. However the sky grew overcast and it got a bit windy. You decided to continue your work inside the Tree Fort where Finn and Jake were currently preparing food. 
You gathered the cloth and the little bag with your sewing supplies and got up. Almost forgetting your prized gift for BMO you bowed down to pick up the little crown. Before you reached it a sneaky magpie swooped down from the skies and stole the treasure from right under your nose.
Thinking quickly, or perhaps through sheer muscle memory, you threw your sewing kit at the thief. It hadn't gotten far and being hit by the bag made it drop the crown into the pond. The shiny sank like a stone while the magpie flew away. Your sewing kit floated on the water's surface. You could imagine BMOs distressed face and little tears when they heard that the crown they had been promised was lost and your heart couldn't take it.
You quickly took off your shoes and socks leaving you only in the summer dress you wore that day, and without a second thought you jumped into the unexpectantly deep pond and dove after the treasure.
Just then Finn had opened the window to call you inside for food. When he saw you diving into the waters he ran down to follow after you, knowing first hand what might happen if you got sucked into the whirlpool.
You emerged in the grotto, the nymphs were absent, perhaps hanging out elsewhere. You used your hands to feel for the crown on the ground of the water unaware that you were slowly dragged towards the vortex that lead to another dimension.
Finally you found it. Just then Finn emerged and you raised up the little crown triumphantly. "Almost lost it, but I got it back!" You called out, over the sound of rushing water while trying to swim toward Finn. The distance between you two only grew however no matter how strong you swam.
"(Y/N)! Look out, you're getting sucked into that whirlpool!" He swam towards you, hand stretched out to grab yours. But it was too late, you could only gasp in as much air as possible and then hold your breath.
Finn saw you disappear underwater and without as much as a second thought he dove in after you. Re-Experiencing the disorienting twists and turns the waters swept him up and out of the strange pink pond.
When he caught his bearings he knew he didn't have too much time before this dimension took its toll and distracted and confused you both to the point of no return. And this time there was no sea lard to save you.
He spotted you, already running away from the pond, the only exit Finn knew of, waving your arms around and cursing. When he reached you you were catching your breath doubled over. "Stupid bird thing! Not again!"
"Hey, (Y/N), what's going on?" Finn asked, concerned. "It's my gift for the costume party that BMO wants to do so badly, I got them this tiny replica of PBs crown, and it wasn't cheap. I already told them I'd have a great gift, I can't loose this thing!"
"And a bird grabbed it?" He asked a bit amused at the absurdity of the situation. "Two!" You cried, "Two different birds grabbed it!" Despite your anguish you had to laugh about it too. Such bad luck could only happen to you.
"Well we really should hurry then, Jake and I were here once and this place messes with your head majorly! Makes you forget stuff." He said walking in the direction the strange bird had flown off too. You nodded and followed him.
"And don't touch the pink stuff, that's really important." He said. "No, wait, purple stuff, yeah that's it. Okay we really better hurry!"
He offered his hand for you to take. With his gaze fixed forward he didn't see your blush as you took it. Neither could you see his, as you only saw the back of his familiar polar bear hat.
He picked up the pace soon tracking down the bird. Atop a sheer cliff it had a nest with many treasures inside. It rested shortly before taking off again leaving the nest unguarded. Finn inspected the rock to see if he'd be able to climb it. Not as physically fit as him, you just took a seat on a small rock, feeling quite useless. 
You picked pretty flowers from around you and began to intertwine them into a crown. Diligently you abstained from picking the blue flowers, like instructed. While some strange purple ones wound their way into your craft. Absentmindedly thinking about how you'd ever make it up to Finn. He always helped you out with anything, with no questions asked. You tried to do the same for him, but you weren't as strong or experienced as him when it came to this adventuring business.
You looked up, seeing Finn hadn't really left his spot. You made eye contact for a moment before he quickly turned away. "I uh, I don't think I can climb up here, we have to try to go around the cliff, or find a better spot for climbing." He finally concluded. You stood up and gave him a firm nod and you took off parallel to the cliff. "Thank you for helping me." You said, and although it wasn't much you reached up and carefully placed the colorful flower crown on his head.
Finn gave you a proud grin and you had a hearty laugh at his goofy face, alongside the fact he now had a crown on top of his usual hat. But it fit him somehow. And he joined in your laughter and your heart almost skipped a beat. You grabbed his hand again with less reservations, and you strolled along the cliff for a bit chatting about this and that.
Eventually you were tired of walking and the two of you sat down in a field of soft pink grass. The cliff side was long out of view as were your original goals. "- well anyways, then I said I'm… I'm …" He stumbled mid sentence and furrowed his brow. "You're… huh strange… no wait I got it: you're hero!" You mused while laying on your back watching the strange clouds. "No… I mean maybe? I feel like I'm man! No that's not quite right either… I'm boy, yeah that sounds right, I'm boy and you're princess, right?" He was laying sideways facing you, elbow on the ground and his palm supporting his head.
You closed your eyes for a moment deep in thought. Hero felt more correct to you, but if he felt like boy that's what he was. And though you didn't feel like princess fit you, it touched you that that was how he saw you. You just hummed approvingly. When opening your eyes again you saw a few unruly strands of hair had slid out of his bear hat. That beautiful, shiny hair, like gold. You reached for a strand and twirled it between your fingers. He just watched you curiously. It was so soft, you wanted more.
You scooted closer to him and tugged at the plush ear of his hat, removing it and freeing all of that amazing hair. It sprawled out and was a fascinating contrast against the dark pink grass you two laid in. You raked your fingers through his hair gently finding yourself almost unable to stop. It felt like you had wanted this for longer than you could remember. 
Eventually you found yourself massaging his scalp while he relaxed into your touch, closing his eyes. His head was on your lap now and your fingers traced through his hair, along his scalp and eventually you softly stroked along his cheek and jaw. His skin wasn't as soft as yours. He was quite a bit older than when you had first met. Although your memory was too fuzzy to realize at the moment. In reality you had known each other since you were tweens but by now you were both young adults.
You marveled at every micro expression he showed in reaction to your soft touch, despite being asleep your closeness made him smile. Alas your legs were falling asleep and you absolutely had to change your position, after having drawn out the serenity for as long as you could. Praying you wouldn't disturb him, you slowly moved, but luck was still not on your side.
"Hey…" He mumbled drowsily. You felt like you could get addicted to this side of him. Not yet quite awake, so soft, unlike the strong composed self you were usually privy to. You laid back down next to him, faces almost touching. "Hey." You replied, studying his features. A soft adoring smile, his clear sky blue eyes and this feeling in your core. This want to be as close as possible and never leave again. You closed your eyes and moved in for a kiss. 
At first the blond was confused. His memories were a bit jumbled. "Wh-what  are you doing?" He asked against our lips, with intrigue in his voice. "Dunno, but it feels good." Your hands found their way back into his hair, and he draped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer. "Yeah." He said breathlessly before kissing you back passionately.
Your soft lips eagerly explored his and your heart beat picked up its pace. This felt good, right, like something you should have done long ago. You couldn't even remember what had held you back until now. He tugged at your waist inviting you to climb on top of him and you complied.
You were straddling him, your hands steadying themselves on his chest. You broke the kiss to stare into each other's eyes for a moment. His sparkled like a lake glittering in the sunlight. His hands moved up your sides and toward your chest. You held your breath in anticipation but he waited for a signal from you. You eagerly nodded and finally he cupped your supple breasts.
If only it weren't for that annoying dress you wore. You started pulling it over your head, and always the hero Finn gladly helped you. He also made short work of your bra tossing the unnecessary clothes to the side. In turn you helped him rid himself of his blue shirt. Scars from his many adventures adorned his toned upper body. You let your fingers run across his chest delighting in how he felt under you, before being pulled into another deep kiss.
Your underpants started to soak in the testament to your desire as you instinctually ground your still clothed sex against his. You felt his hard length through his jeans and wanted to free it so badly. When the kiss naturally broke you moved downwards, despite Finns little noise of protest against loosing your warmth on his body. 
You undid the button swiftly and pulled his pants and undies down together. His cock slapped against his belly and you could finally see it in full. You eagerly wrapped your hand around it and hovering your mouth over the tip. Something told you to hold back though, and your gaze snapped up to meet his. "May I?" You inquired. "Yes, please!" There was a desperation in his voice you thought you never heard before.
You wet your lips with saliva before carefully engulfing his tip. You delighted in the sensation and explored as much of the delicate skin as could with your mouth. He hissed making you pull back in worry. "Did I hurt you?" You frowned. "No- no keep going, it's good!" You returned to your administrations and delicately drag your tongue along his length. From the base up to the tip. His natural smell and taste leaving you wanting more.  
You wrap your hand around his cock lazily stroking it while letting your tongue explore other sensitive areas. He winced when you started licking and lightly suckling his balls and you watched him tense up more and more. You found a good pace with your hand and eventually your tongue and lips found themselves back around his cock as well. Free hand fondling his balls tenderly. 
His breathing became more and more ragged and his muscles tensed up as curses and praises fell from his lips. His hands fisted into your hair desperate for something to ground him as his head was spinning. Suddenly he pulled on your hair, rougher than he wanted making you yelp. "Wait, not yet." He stammered, sitting himself up as his chest heaved. He caught his breath as his length twitched impatiently.
Swiftly he guided you to lay down on your back and freed you of your soaked panties. Intrigued by your lust he dragged his tongue through your folds tasting your slick. When he brushed up against your sensitive swollen nub you couldn't help a moan escaping your lips. He smiled against your skin, revelling in your lewd sound as much as you enjoyed his. Now that he found your apparent weak spot there was no holding back anymore. He experimented with the direction and intensity of his licks to find the combination that would make you fall apart.
Now it was you who desperately held onto him. Throwing your head back into the soft grass tinged purple by the Twilight. Desperation grew in your core and you arched your back and leaned into all touch he provided. Beyond the sensations and delight and bliss you felt your head was empty. Nothing beyond him, and you and the immediate surrounding. But what more should there be? This was all you needed.
Finally he pulled away leaving you shaking. You saw that he had been stroking his length with his free hand keeping it ready for you. He climbed on top of you, supporting himself on his elbows. His lips ghosted over yours as he eased himself into your core. You bit your lip at the amazing sensation of being filled up like that. Once he bottomed out he let out a quiet "Fuck, you're perfect." Before settling into a comfortable pace.
Every thrust tightened the knot in your belly, threatening to burst any minute. Your fate was sealed when his lips found yours again. He groaned into the kiss, clearly close too, making you wrap your legs around him, to allow for even deeper access. He picked up the pace in turn, breaking the kiss to instead explore your sensitive nipples with his tongue. Grazing over them with his teeth to test your reaction. Your whine and the tensing of your muscles were exactly what he was looking for.
Trailing kisses up from your breast to the side of your neck he first nibbled carefully before testing out a bit more force. Your hands pulled on his hair as tears started forming in the corners of your eyes. He paused for a moment before your eyes met and he knew those weren't the bad kinds of tears. Eagerly he made his way up and down your neck, biting, and then soothingly licking the affected area. All while keeping the pace that had you rushing toward your orgasm.
"Oh glob, please, please don't stop." You whined and with that and a few more thrusts your eyes were overflowing as you clung to him, your hero, for dear life. Too wrapped up in the blazing feeling you barely noticed his faltering breath. You held him close when he buried his face into the crook of your neck as he was riding his high praising and thanking you.
First you lay there just panting, in each other's embrace. Finally he pulled away and collapsed next to you. Both of you were lying on your sides, facing the other. His face was flushed and he looked somewhat drowsy. Then you noticed the flower crown haphazardly lying in the grass behind him. You stretch to pick it up and study it. It reminds you of something. "Hey, what did we want to do here again?" You wondered. "Maybe whatever we just did again, uh after a nap." He shrugged. "Yeah that'd be nice." 
Still the crown had your mind in a vice grip. Your serenity was rudely interrupted suddenly by a strange sight. A little old lady, clad in purple, somehow flying with her hair, emerged from the tree line. She freaked out when she saw you. She exaggerated disgust despite clearly peeking at your naked forms and implored you to get dressed again. Embarrassed, you quickly gathered your clothes back and dressed up. She wore a familiar object on her head. Something you thought you wanted to have. 
After thoroughly apologizing you offered her a trade. Your flower crown for the small golden one she had. To your surprise she was eager to trade, calling her current crown "trash she found in a birds nest".
You parted ways with her and you and Finn picked a random direction to walk towards. He wrapped his arm around you protectively and you rested your head on his shoulder. By now it was completely dark. Suddenly cries filled the night and you took off toward the disturbance. Little critters fled a clearing in the woods and you soon saw why. A sort of yellow snake, with a hand for a head was terrorizing the citizens. Picking them up, before dropping them again.
Finn held your hand tightly unsure of what to do without any weapons. The hand snake approached and despite Finns efforts it got a hold of his arm. It felt up his arm, all the way to his face, before grabbing both of you and dragging you through the woods. Through bushes, thorns, over rocks, to a clearing and into a pond.
As you were dragged through the water thoughts and memories flooded back into you. You both emerged with a gasp and coughing. It was Jake there in the grotto, with the concerned water nymphs. "What the heck you guys!?" The dog scolded. "You were gone for hours! I had to feel around for you for so long, glob, I don't even wanna know the sorts of stuff I touched before I FINALLY found you!"
But Jakes scolding and the water nymphs chatter fell on more or less deaf ears. You and Finn were quiet. When you emerged from the pond and saw the familiar tree fort again you felt a strange heaviness.
Jake went ahead inside as it had started to rain in the mean time. You and Finn stood there for a while, neither sure of what to say. You wanted to hold his hand again, be just as close as just an hour ago, but now you weren't sure anymore. Did he like you, or was it just that dimension breaking down your memories until you only act on base impulse. 
Finally you spoke. "Thank you for trying to save me." "Always." And that was true, he'd try to save you always. No questions asked. He touched your hand lightly, and you intertwined your fingers.
Until he broke the silence again. "Uh, (Y/N), a- are you on birth control?" 
You gulped.
~~~
AN: Any sort of engagement is very, very appreciated, especially comments and/or critiques as I'd love to improve. I wanted to leave the ending a bit open because I'm playing with the thought of a part two, but as it stands the reader can decide what to make of it.
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charlesslut16 · 3 months
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-Blanket fort-
summary : Lando, you and your son build a blanket fort...
PAIRING : lando norris x fem! reader
Warnings : none
note : i hope that you had a great day! Today is christmas eve so i am hyped for tomorrow.
december masterlist ; masterlist   
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Christmas morning at the Norris household was a bustling symphony of excitement. Well it was always so, but at the Christmastime everything was exciting.
The air was filled with the aroma of freshly baked cookies and the sound of laughter as your little one, a spitting image of Lando with his infectious smile, tore through wrapping paper to unveil his gifts.
One time you were at his parents and visited them. You sat down together and looked through Lando's old pictures in the picture book, and if you thought back, your son looked exactly like Lando did.
As the day progressed and the sun cast a warm glow through the windows, you found yourselves in the living room, surrounded by a sea of wrapping paper and toys.
Amidst the chaos, Lando's mischievous grin caught your eye, and you instantly knew an adventure was about to unfold. He had this twinkle in his eyes that told you.
With a twinkle in his eye, Lando proposed, "How about we make the ultimate blanket fort? The biggest that the world has ever seen, and it will be from the Norris family."
Your little one's eyes widened with excitement as we all dove into the task at hand. Cushions were piled high, blankets were draped, and chairs were strategically placed to form the perfect hideaway.
It was a masterpiece of coziness and imagination, a haven within your own home. It really was a true masterpiece, you could have never imagined that it would be this cozy.
Inside your blanket fortress, giggles and whispers echoed against the fabric walls. Lando and you stole moments to exchange knowing glances, your hearts filled with gratitude for this beautiful life we had created together.
As the evening descended and the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree illuminated your makeshift fortress, Lando's voice took on a softer tone. The softer tone.
"You know," he began, his eyes meeting mine, "I've been thinking..."
Your heart skipped a beat, anticipation dancing in the air. "About what?" you asked, your curiosity piqued, but you in your inside you knew what Lando had thought about. As did you.
"I was thinking... maybe it's time for us to consider adding another member to our little team," he said, his voice filled with hope and a touch of nervousness. It was cute.
Your breath caught in your throat, surprised yet elated by his suggestion. It surprised you to a degree, as you had hoped that he would ask and you could answer his request.
"Funny you should mention that," you replied, a smile spreading across your face. "I've been thinking the same thing."
A shared moment of silent understanding passed between the two of you, your unspoken desire for another child palpable in the air. You had both always dreamed of a little team.
With your little one playing nearby, oblivious to your conversation, Lando and you exchanged a glance filled with unspoken agreement. At that moment, the decision was made, and a new journey lay ahead.
Later that night, as the house settled into a peaceful lull, Lando and you found yourselves in the quiet embrace of our bedroom. Your conversation from earlier lingered in the air, and with a shared nod, you embarked on this new chapter of your lives.
With the warmth of our love surrounding you, Lando and you embraced the journey of trying to expand your family once more, your hearts overflowing with anticipation and the promise of new beginnings.
And as the moonlight filtered through the window, casting soft shadows across the room, you knew that whatever the future held, you were ready to embrace it together as a team, united in love and adventure.
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firstdivisiongirl · 4 months
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Day 1: Luffy - We’re Not Putting the Tree Up, It’s November
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There were always those signs that were the signal of the Christmas season starting soon.  For Luffy, that sign was snow.  It was a cold November day.  Each member of the crew was kind of doing their own thing as usual.  As you and Nami walked outside from your rooms, finished with both recording adventures and drawing maps respectively.  You both noticed the white powder falling from the sky onto the deck and everyone on it.  It was snowing.  Luffy, Usopp and Chopper stopped what they were doing.  They looked around and started celebrating, before picking up large piles of snow to make forts and snowmen.  You and Nami laughed at how happy they were just playing in the snow.
After an hour or two, everyone came inside for lunch.  It was so cold outside that you and everyone else were happy to have a nice, warm and peaceful lunch.  It was peaceful until your captain asked, “Can you put up the Christmas tree today?”
Nami hit Luffy in the head, “we’re not putting the tree up, it’s November!”
“But snow means Christmas.  That’s what grandpa always told me that once it snows that means Christmas!”
You face palmed yourself, “Luffy, isn’t that the same grandpa that punches you every time he sees you?”
“Yes.”
“Should you really trust what he says?”
Luffy wrapped his arms around you hugging you, “please,” he whined, looking at you with puppy dog eyes, “can we please put up the tree?  I promise to be less trouble. And not try to break into the refrigerator at night.”
You looked at everyone else for their opinion.  They all seemed to be okay with it now that he promised to be good, which everyone hoped he actually would do.  You hugged Luffy back, “Okay.  Let’s get the tree and the ornaments.  It’s Christmas time y’all.”
For the rest of the day, everyone came together to decorate the tree.  Everyone had ornaments to represent them on the tree: three sword ornaments for Zoro, a tangerine and pinwheel for Nami, a Strawhat for Luffy, some kitchen themed ornaments for Sanji and so on and so forth.  You were all happier than usual doing this.  Not that you all weren’t happy, it was just different and more pronounced than usual.  That day the Strawhat Pirates created a new tradition.  Once the first snow fell, they put up their Christmas tree, no matter what day or month it was.
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Please do not copy, modify, translate, repost my writing on other platforms. Comments, reblogs or likes are highly appreciated!
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madwomansapologist · 10 months
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Autumn Thunderstorm | Chapter 1 - A way to break the ice
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Navigation | Series Masterlist | AO3
series synopsis: Thranduil thought the recent attack of spiders on a periphery village was the only thing deserving of his attencion. If he could've imagined what he would found there, who he would found there, the Elvenking would wait a millenia in front of that river so he could see her sooner. Or: how Gandalf managed to keep a secret for 14 months.
first chapter synopsis: Thranduil traveled to a village that reported spider attacks with his army to protect those who need it, and accepted when a respected family offered their inn so his army could rest. He didn't expect to find a mage there. Or for the dam to break. [3K]
warnings: female!reader. lotr kinda of violence. pre-Smaug.
glossary: Lossëistar: Ice Mage┆Mithrandir: Grey Pilgrim┆
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Gandalf it's a recuring face in the inn. In some months he appears twice, mostly at the end of the year when he don't have anything else to do, but he never goes more than a month without coming back. Even if he can stay only for a day or two, he always comes back.
Gandalf has been to so many places. Met so many people. Lives so many adventures. So why does he keep coming back? It's just a normal village filled with normal people living normal lives. It's a good place to live, but not the kind of place people want to visit.
"I will see you next month?" Helping him saddle the sorrel, you asked the obvious. Goodbyes were never your forte. Hearing more, even if it's something you've heard before, is better than being silent for the whole time. You already miss him.
You led the horse out of the inn's stable, petting it. The cool breeze made your hair fly. Autumn has begun to announce itself. The sorrel tried to run away, but you held him in place.
"There is someone I need to visit, a master who needs advice", you know that tone of voice. Gandalf uses it whenever you do something stupid. Something as recurrent as his presence at the inn. Someone is about to hear a stern lectur, and you're so relieved it's not you.
"Good luck to the poor person you will pay a visit." You say as he mounts the sorrel. Part of you is still surprised that someone so old would be able to ride a horse so easily, but looks can be deceiving. Gandalf is older than he looks, as well as more skilled.
Gandalf appreciated the river that cut through the property, focusing on the sound of water lapping against rocks. It was one of the reasons for the inn to be so popular. Away from the village center, higher on the mountain, there the water was so calm. So crystalline. But in the background Gandalf could see the high wooden dam. It held back the stormy river, ensuring that it wouldn't run to the waterfall miles ahead and crash against the village.
Suddenly a familiar fear gripped your body. He always comes back, but you're always afraid that one day he'll realize this is just a waste of his time. And if one day he decides not to come back, you'll be alone. "You will not forget about me, will you?"
Awakened by your voice, Gandalf faced you. His voice went softer. "Continuing to ask will not change the answer."
"But why do you keep coming back?" The sorrel stirred. You had to take a step back, and you could felt that Gandalf would use that to move away without really answering you. "You really do not know what happened to me before my awakening? Why did you help me?"
"Continuing to ask will not change the answer." Gandalf led the horse away. And so he goes, without really answering you. As always. "Farewell, persistent girl, and do not cause troubles."
"I can't promise anything." Gandalf sighed. He knows you're being honest in the same way you know he isn't. "Good ridance, Gandalf!"
You stood still, watching him go down the mountain. When he disappeared into the ash trees, taking some of your fear with him, you took a deep breath and remembered that you had a lot to do. Aerin is a kind landlady, but she made it clear that your stay would not be paid with grateful smiles and friendly words.
Gandalf is always travelling, you never have an address to send letters. He usually sends you a letter a week, but you never have a way to respond. But inside the stable, surrounded by horses that needed your attention, work managed to override your concern. Everything would be fine. Everything always turns out fine.
So why does you feel like something bad will happen?
"Breakfast!" You served each horse a mixture of fresh grass, hay and silage, thereby distracting them to prepare a new bedding for them. "Good morning, beauties."
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
Elrond called the Counsil.
Four hundred years of peace. The enemy was dead. Sauron was dead. It's being a long time, but something had awakened in Rivendell. Something dark and hungry. Something that none could ignore. Evil things did not come into that valley, but maybe something was born there.
"That is not enough to think something is happening", Saruman explained. Sitting in his armchair, Saruman's pearly tunica appeared to be floating as he move his hand. "Orcs and spiders? Not enough."
Galadriel countered the room. Her white gown gleamed at every step, almost hurting the eyes of those who dare to look direct at it. Just almost, the temptation to look at her was bigger than the discomfort.
"It would not." Galadriel whispered. "But we are not talking about ocasional attacks. It's strategical. They are hunting something. Something south of Rivendell."
Gandalf glared at Saruman. He grabbed his staff, holding it closer to him. That subject wasn't on a good path. Not a good path for them.
The Istari came in five. Not that anyone but Elrond, Cirdan and Galadriel knew what they really are. The rest of the world see them as inopportune pilgrims, but they're so much more than that.
Saruman the White, a Maia of Aulë, leader of the White Counsil. The enemy of Sauron. The one who advice great lords, who is responsible for the biggest events, present whenever a important choice needs to be made. When the War of the Ring start, he will be the one fighting Sauron.
Gandalf the Grey, a Maia of Manwë and Varda. The one to defeat evil by the lives of commons. The wiser. When the War of Ring start, Gandalf will be with the soldiers and squires.
Radagast the Brow, a Maia of Yavanna. The protector of Nature and it's life. The avenger of animals and plants. When the War of Ring start, he won't interfere. Saruman don't speak to him since he made his decision.
And there are the two blueses. The ones whos only purpose is to defend humans. Different than Gandalf, they don't organize humans. Different than Saruman, they don't empower them. They're here to purely defend humans from Sauron. Saruman pretend they don't exist. It's been years since Gandalf spoke their names. Elrond and Galadriel often ask about them, but they resufe to answer.
Saruman looked into his tired eyes, and Gandalf understood what he was saying: "Do not".
Elrond was bewitched by the landscape in front of him. He could see the river, the montains, the infinity of the sky. And he felt it. A shadow that grows in the dark. Elrond still not sure if it's something evil, but it's powerful. "Sauron have..."
"Do not even start with this!" Saruman nodded. "Sauron is dead. He is done."
At one point while Saruman and master Elrond discussed, Saruman's only argument being the death of Sauron and Elrond trying to use some logic to explain his fear, Gandalf heard a voice on his head. "What are you hiding from us, Mithrandir?"
Gandalf smiled at Galadriel. His white long beard almost covered it, but she saw it. "Nothing."
"We are not summoned to argue about the Enemy's existence." Thraunduil rose from his chair, but it would take a fool to not perceive how, even simple and identical to those of the other counsil members, it looked like a throne. Thranduil was a king, his presence lived up to his reputation. "We are here to put an end to these vermin."
"Finally someone with a agile mind", Saruman intonate. He was relieved someone changed the topic.
Master Elrond sit down. "This horde keep reproducing. Until we find the nest, the spiders will keep coming back."
"Then we know what to do." Thranduil put and end to the endless discussion. "Mine guar..."
The door was flung open, shaking the council room. A sweaty, breathless messenger leaned against it, legs shaking with exhaustion. His eyes met Elrond's, who immediately rose and approached. "We found another litter."
"Where?" Galadriel asked.
"Above the tributaries of the Bruinen River, in the gorge of the last dam." The messenger straightened up. "They're at least twelve."
"Wake up the intendant," Elrond ordered. "Tell him to prepare my armor."
Saruman swallowed hard. It would be too close. If Elrond... He glared at Gandalf, hoping he could think of an excuse. Elrond would need just a look to recognized her. He can't be near the dam.
"In a token of gratitude for your hospitality," Thranduil made his way near to Elrond. He touched his shoulder, squeezing it gently. Kind words, but attention would show that pride lurked among them. "Let me defeat these insects for you."
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
They rode in twenty. Led by the Elvenking, the little guard entered the mangrove with their golden armour lit by the midday sun. Protected from the rear by the Elvenking, the little guard came out of the mangrove with their bloody armour lit by the sunset.
They were still twenty.
"Our mounts need to rest before our return", Gildor saddle his sorrel. One of Elrond's captains, he was the one that managed to map the nest and guided Thranduil and his guard to annihilate the spiders. "Just like your elk, your grace."
Thranduil carressed his brave elk. A longtime companion, that faced bigger threats than a nest of spiders. He wasn't tired, Thranduil could ride back to his realm if he wanted to, but his men needed to rest. "We went through a village, didn't we?"
"Yes, your grace", Gildor pointed to a trampled tail. "An inn favored by master Elrond would gladly welcome us, with comfort and food for us and our mounts. I took the liberty of sending a letter to inform our stay when we were getting organized in Rivendell."
It was a long road. The trail ran along the mountain, climbing towards the setting sun. The sound of running water showed that they were arriving, but what really made them understand that the path had ended was the sound of chitchat. Coming out from the trees, the Elvenking and his men were greeted by dozens of people.
The grooms approached first, taking the horses from the guards with many smiles and promises of good care. As the king descended from his elk, everyone bowed and thanked him for defeating the spiders. Leading the small crowd, a short, plump lady approached.
"Lady Aerin, the owner of the inn", Gildor whispered to Thranduil.
"I imagine it must have been a long and painful journey, your grace." Aerin used sweet words, but it was clear that she practiced them a few times. "All my employees shall respond to your orders, no matter what they are. I know my little inn is nothing compared to your castle, but I hope it brings you comfort."
It was obviously true, but it was modest to say that this was a small inn. It was an immense structure, perhaps six floors high, and the long stables were visible even from the entrance. Nothing compared to a castle, but it certainly wasn't small.
Aerin was kind, personally guiding the king to his chambers. While everyone bathed, supper was cooked and the horses tended. The sun had already set when they gathered for supper, and the food was delicious.
"It's a very lovely inn", Thranduil tried to calm Aerin. Her nervousness was clear.
"Oh, your grace, that's very kind of you." The old lady smiled, then went back to her food. The lull was marvelous, but it didn't last long. But this time, Aerin was trying to whisper to her son. Trying, not succeeding. "Why is she taking so long? I'm starting to worry."
Gildor took a sip from his wine. "You talk about the Lossëistar?"
Aerin was surprised he could hear her. After all, she was so subtle. "She was supossed to be back by now. It's a long way to the fair, but not that long."
"Lossëistar?" Thranduil was interested. "An elve mage life here?"
Aerin and Gildor glared at one another. Gildor was the one that responded Thranduil. "Not exactly an elve, not exactly a mage."
His interest got bigger. "Explain yourself."
Aerin sighed. "She... Look, I don't mean to gossip, I really don't." She looked around the room, and began to whisper. "We don't really know what she is. She definitely isn't human. But an elve... I don't think she's tall enough to be one."
Thranduil laughed at Aerin's honesty. "What's the cause of such confusion?"
The younger boy, Aerin's son, responded before his mom could. "She's weird. Gandalf worries about her."
"Beren!" Aerin scolded him. "Keep yourself silent!"
Thranduil's interest turned into something else. Gandalf isn't exactly a friend, as he often delivers bad news and forget who's the ruler, but Thranduil is wiser to not underestimate him. Elrond and Galadriel care for him, and Thranduil respect their wit. If Gandalf has someone under his wing, then he has his reasons. Thranduil can't help but to wonder why.
Before he could ask more, the creak of the entrance door was heard. "Lady Aerin," a female voice echoed to the hall. It was melodic, Thranduil could sense the happiness. "You won't believe what I found!"
You entered the hall holding a basket full of fabrics, herbs and pots. "Close your eyes, it's a surprise." You were looking for something inside the basket as you walked towards the hall, not even noticing that it wasn't empty.
Thranduil swallowed hard.
Your dress was wrinkled and muddy, the marks of a long, busy day of walking. Your loose hair, falling around your shoulders, framed your face with a sense of freedom. The smile on your lips, so simple and true, carried such lightness. Your crooked steps, of those who need to balance their weight with the heavy basket in order not to fall, were lit by candles. There were violets in your eyes. They glowed. You glowed, even without intention.
"Lossëistar", Aerin called. "We're not alone."
Your smiled died before you rose your face. Lossëistar. It's been more than a year, but she never called you by your name. Don't matter what you say, they never hear you. What's the reason to keep trying? But then you rose your face, and you disappointment turned into shame.
"Your grace", you bowed. "Pardon for the interruption."
Thranduil took a deep breath. He could smell the salty scent, a mixture of earth and herbs, emanating from you. A shiver rose the Elvenking's spine. "Apparently you're late."
"You're supossed to be here two hours ago", said Aerin. "Are you fine, kid?"
"The horse you borrowed me wasn't obedient." You looked up. Your eyes alternated between Thranduils's and Aerin's. With a sign of his head, you slowly stand up. You may be a fool on a few subjects, but you always know when your presence isn't expected. With another bow, you walked towards the entrance. "Have a good night."
"Supper with us." Thranduil didn't control his own tongue. There was something about you that intrigued him. He repeated to himself that he was only trying to find out what interested Gandalf, but he was too clever to be so easily deceived.
"Your grace is so kind, but she don't need to", Aerin thought it was the right thing to say. "I'll bring you a plate when we're done. Thank him, Lossëistar, for his generosity."
Thranduil's voice was heard again. But this time it was different. It was less graceful, less friendly. It was the voice of a leader, and a tired one. "What makes you think that an invitation to dinner and a cold dish are equivalent?"
Aerin blinked. "I'm sorry, your grace. I thought..."
"Join us, lady", the Elvenking looked into your eyes.
Unsure of how to proceed, you followed in silence to the empty armchair at the end of the table. Next to Aerin's son, who was staring at you in a way you couldn't identify, one of the employees served a plate. Conversation returned, Gildor launched into a subject that made the tension in the air dissipate, but you could feel the weight of the Elvenking gaze.
"The last time we saw each other", Gilgor smiled at you. "You still didn't knew how to ride."
You smiled at him, but discomfort gripped your body. You were too dirty, too tired, to sit across from a king. You must have reeked of mud and riding horses. How was your face? And your hair? He's very kind, kinder than the stories about the Mirkwood elves, but it was humiliating.
"I'm still learning." You tried to sound comfortable on your own skin. "I'm not the best, but also not the worst."
"Certainly a stimulant way of thinking, Lossëistar."
"I'm sure you have a name, my lady." Thranduil didn't bother smiling. It was weird the way people didn't addressed you by your name.
"I... I do." You bit your tongue. "People just don't use it."
"So it's about time we change this."
A warmth took over your cheeks. You told him your name, and only then you noticed how long it been since you last heard it. It felt nice to have the Elvenking saying it, almost testing how it sounded on his tongue.
But everything was forgotten after the explosion. The guards got up, not sure what was going on, but you knew that sound. It was the sound of work. The sound of letters and more letters of complaint being ignored. The sound of the dozens of times the village had to rebuild everything because they didn't fix the problem while there was still time. It was the sound of water. And it was near.
You drank the rest of your wine before getting up. "A moment, please."
You ran out of the inn. As imagined, the dam had broken. The second time this month. "That's what happens when you keep solving it," you said to yourself. "They know you're going to fix everything so they don't even bother doing something."
Mist dominated the river bank. You took a deep breath and ran closer to the forest, as far away as possible. You took a bow out of your pocket and tied your hair in a tight knot. The last thing you needed was something clinging to your face. You heard the screams of some of the guards, but didn't let that distract you.
It raced down the gorge, skipping the bank and destroying everything in its path. You could hear the trees bending, you could feel the cold, hard wind burning your face. When the trees behind you shuddered, you knew you could start. So you ran towards the river.
You ran and ran and ran. You stopped walking on leaves to step on land, then you stopped stepping on land to run over the river. And you didn't dive. You just ran, a thin layer of ice forming with each step, and you ran towards the pouring water. And when it was so close she could crush you, knock the air out of your lungs and claim it as it's own, you stuck out your finger and touch the wave.
And as quickly as it started, it ended. It ended with you standing in the middle of the river, with tons of frozen water in front of you, and a speechless Elvenking.
[Second Chapter]
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126dvtn · 2 years
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— night-time lullabies.
summary : how the genshin men help you sleep.
cw : sliightly suggestive for thoma if you squint ; mentions of nightmares for scara
genre : fluff :3
character : diluc, thoma, albedo, ayato, kazuha, scaramouche
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diluc ragnvindr ; hum of a homely tune.
there’s something about diluc’s bed that always just lulls you to sleep. maybe the pillow has just right amount of fluff, maybe the covers smell too familiar. or maybe it’s the fact that the person you love is right beside you, gracing the room with his protective presence. there are restless nights, however, despite the many factors that contribute to the sleepability of the bed.
and that’s why diluc has you pressed up against his chest with your head resting on his arm. as his other arm pats your back, you hear him hum a slow tune. it reverberates within his chest. you listen. his voice isn’t the best; it’s a bit too soft and goes off-tune in all the right places. but that’s exactly what pulls you into slumber as your breathing starts to match his. he feels like relief, and going into dreamland feels just like returning home.
thoma ; releasing the knots.
preparing for bed is absolutely thoma’s forte. he is the well-known housekeeper of the kamisato clan, after all. given that he’s not busy, he’ll undoubtedly take an hour or two to whip up a cozy atmosphere. that could be a relaxing warm bath, coupled with a private hair-washing session that sends chills down your spine. that could also be a bed with warm, scented, freshly washed sheets that fluffs up when you sit on it.
tonight, it’s special. thoma has you lying prone on the bed, blindfolded with nothing but a bathrobe on. you’re pinned down by your shoulders. “i’ll start from here,” he whispers by your ear before your mind manages run wild. and he does start, fingers pressing your shoulders, spreading the massaging oil all over your skin. it’s therapeutic; the ambience, the aroma, the lover who’s undoing all the knots in your back. and you wonder, as you drift to sleep, if he’s undoing the knots in your heart too.
albedo ; stories of today.
albedo has little need for sleep- he is indeed a synthetic being created to explore the depths of the world. sometimes, you decide to join him in his nightly adventures. it’s not always comfortable; the times he reminds you to rest and sleep can be the times the ground is too uneven to lay on. the harsh night winds and the unrestrained calls of wildlife only complicates your mind further.
so albedo sits against a tree and props you up between his legs. his jacket makes for a modest blanket. your head is partly on his shoulders as he softly reads out a bedtime story- except it’s not a bedtime story, and it’s all the new research findings he’d explored that week. he describes all his experiences in excruciating detail, as if you weren’t there to witness them. it gets boring, you can’t help but admit. but you relish his voice nonetheless, hoping that you’ll see him later in your dreams.
kamisato ayato ; a cleansing of the mind.
of course the kamisato ayato would have the most grand bedroom you’ve ever seen. it contains two futon- one for you, and one for him- that he oftentimes requests to put side by side. there’s everything you could ask for; be it a spare blanket or a different pillow. and if there’s anything lacking, the maidservants will be right outside to heed your requests. but for a restless mind, sleep just won’t come no matter how many blankets you stack on yourself.
this is no problem for ayato. on nights where you and he struggle to ready your minds for bedtime, he takes your hand and brings you out. usually, you walk in the garden together. that’s where all the midnight conversations start. the topic changes in every step- humorous in one sentence and sentimental in the next. throughout the journey, he rubs circles on the back of your hand. and when the two of you start exchanging yawns, he knows it’s finally time. “ready to go to sleep, my darling?”
kaedahara kazuha ; all that he loves.
kazuha’s extremely familiar with nature. after all, he sleeps with the sun as his blanket and the earth as his bed. loving him means coming to terms with the fact that you’ll make nature your abode as well. it means finding a good spot in an empty cave and resting against its walls, and it means securing an area by the river to chase a few hours of slumber.
he makes it look easy, sleeping in nature like this. but it really isn’t, and he knows it. for that reason, kazuha lets you lay on his lap as he listens to the winds. his hand doesn’t stop stroking your hair. that is, unless he wants to play a calming tune on a makeshift shibabue. to kazuha, this is another sound of nature; it’s only natural to share the things you love with the person you cherish. and when you finally fall asleep, he goes back to stroking your hair, happy to be stuck in the centre of all that his favourite things.
scaramouche ; a result of empathy.
to scaramouche, sleeping is the worst part of the day. it’s when all his nightmares visit him and treat him with no mercy. well, it used to be the worst part of the day. ever since he met you, he’s started to accept the act of sleeping into his life. he gets to be intimate with you without fear or hesitation. he gets to see you in your most relaxed state, and he gets to kiss you goodnight when he’s sure you’re asleep.
thus, when you have trouble sleeping, he tries his best to help. he holds your hand, stroking it ever-so-slightly to help you relax. he stays silent. afraid that any word of his might disrupt the peace of your mind. but if it’s nightmares that are taking away your rest, scaramouche can’t bear keeping quiet. kissing you goodnight is one thing; empathising with your struggles is another. he tells you everything he’d wished he was told, knowing that you’d do the same for him without a bat of an eyelid.
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slymewizard · 6 months
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Adventure Time headcanon/au: in the period between the tree fort being destroyed and the human city being finished, Simon, Finn, Jake, and BMO bunked at Marceline’s house (Simon on the couch, Finn Jake and BMO in the basement so they could put their stuff inside) while PB was also living there with her now girlfriend. I have no basis for this other than I really really really really like the idea of the 6 main characters of the show being wacky roommates…well wacky roommates except one of them is a father figure to two of the others and 2 of them are brothers and 2 of them are dating but still…SIX WACKY ROOMMATES!
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da-mous · 1 year
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My Read of Puhoy! :)
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Hey pizza babies! Puhoy is an often praised Adventure Time episode, and I've seen a few analysis videos on it, but I've never really felt satisfied by any of them, so I wanted to put my own thoughts on the episode in writing somewhere. After all, the episode turned 10 just two days ago!
So, right away, I think this episode is about Finn letting go of the simplistic understanding of the world he had as a younger kid throughout the first few seasons. In the early episodes, Finn has an extremely black and white perspective. Stealing is always bad, everyone's problems can always be solved, and good and evil are clearly delineated categories
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Puhoy opens with an establishing shot showing a knife storm raging outside the tree fort. This calls back to "Rainy Day Daydream," an episode where Jake's imagination becomes reality. Puhoy also plays with the line between imagination and reality, and, while this post isn't about trying to explain the pillow world lore-wise, I think the knife storm's appearance suggests that the pillow world was created by Finn's imagination, which is very thematically in line with the rest of my read on Puhoy
Finn starts the episode in a funk because he's convinced Flame Princess doesn't like him anymore, just because she didn't laugh at one of his jokes. I think this conflict illustrates that Finn doesn't know how to separate his feelings from reality. He imagines FP doesn't like him, and he's unable to conceptualize anything else. In the simple, ideal world in Finn's young mind, she would have laughed if she liked him. There isn't room for the nuance that maybe she just didn't get it
Jake is able to see that Finn is completely making up this problem, but his solution of ignoring his feelings, demonstrated by hurling his favorite cup out the window, is pretty unhelpful. In the end, even Jake can't let go that easily, and he fishes his cup back up
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Fortunately, instead of trying to hurl his feelings out the window, Finn decides to crawl into the pillow fort to let his thoughts "fester," and Jake perfectly illustrates the difference between their approaches by telling Finn that festering is always bad. Jake wants to move on from things immediately, without having a moment to sit with or say goodbye to his feelings
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The pillow world Finn ends up in reflects the simplistic worldview he needs to let go of. It represents the fantasy that he, until now, thought his life would play out like. He easily slays a pillow dragon, immediately wins the adoration of the pillow people, and wastes basically no time hitting it off with a pillow girl. Years pass and we see a strapping, idealized older Finn living a simple, cushy life providing for his pillow nuclear family
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There's no horror to Puhoy. No dark turn, no sudden twist. Finn gets to live an entire, comfortable, satisfying lifetime in his idealized fantasy world, right up until he simply dies of old age, at which point he finally "wakes up" and finds himself back home
Puhoy feels, to me, like a twist on a common trope in fiction. Typically, like the island of the lotus eaters in the Odyssey, a world as cushy and idealized as the pillow world is presented as a trap of some kind, and the "right" choice is to resist the temptation. These stories usually suggest that there's something wrong with choosing a simple life, like it's ultimately unfulfilling or hollow in some way. But Puhoy doesn't moralize about Finn's life in the pillow world. He comes off as certain the entire time that he does want to find a way to go home, but as the years pass and he forgets what home even looked like, he ends up making the choice to stay, and it comes off to me as entirely reasonable. He has an entire life here, meanwhile he can't even remember what Jake looks like. Why should he throw all this away to return to the people from his past?
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Puhoy is the ultimate wish fulfillment. It can be hard to let go of what the world looked like when you saw it through the eyes of a child. It can be hard to accept the complexities and terrors of the world. It can be hard to even understand why you would want to see the world as a difficult, uncertain, complicated place. If I were once again Finn's age and you'd asked me if I wanted to live out an entire, satisfying lifetime in the world I thought I lived in as a kid, I would be extremely tempted to say yes. Only then might I be able to move on with my real life without eternally mourning the honey-dipped worldview I was forced to outgrow, finally satisfied that I'd gotten to have my time with it
Once Finn winds up back home in his own time, he almost immediately forgets his life in the pillow world. Unlike Jake's cup, after living a full life there, it's truly gone and he truly doesn't care about it anymore, and so he's able to forget it entirely
FP calls Finn to tell him she finally understood his joke, which is a surprisingly convenient, external solution to Finn's internal problem, but he nonetheless comes off as if it never tore him up in the first place, as if, by leaving his simplistic perspective behind, he was able to develop a more mature perspective on his relationships with others
Thanks for reading!! :)))
I have an unspoken rule on this blog that it's strictly for the funny and only occasional self promotion, but I really wanted to write about this episode. Usually I write more analytical stuff like this on my devblog, but cartoons isn't video games! If I keep wanting to write stuff like this, maybe I'll make a sideblog to put that stuff in 🤔
By the way, I think of Puhoy as part of a trilogy with Dungeon Train and Hall of Egress. They're all important journeys along Finn's larger journey of growing up, and they're all framed by Finn trying to deal with rough feelings surrounding FP. The latter two are more overtly connected to each other, but Hall of Egress does have what I think is meant as a reference to Puhoy, where Finn emerges from the Hall by poking his head through the dirt on top of the hill it's under, the same way he emerges from the pillow fort at the end of Puhoy! Maybe one day I'll write about those episodes too. I have a lot to say about Finn's arc throughout the show in general, so I could even do a post about that :)
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strid3rofthen0rth · 2 months
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Everest Quercus
A bone shuddering thud, immediately followed by an electric sting racing up through hands and arms.  The pause, surprise and awe that it did not go.  A glance filled with ill intent.  The creak of stained, heavy leather gloves.  Panting.  A deep breath and a little bounce, like a fighter waiting for the bell.  Finally, another swing, all the way from the toes, and Ker-rack!
There it is.  Now we're splitting some wood.
Splitting firewood is about the most rewarding work I can do on a cold winter morning.  The smell of cleaved hardwood mixed with sweat has been a touchstone for me since early boyhood.  Nothing conjures happy images of my father more quickly or completely.  My parents heated with wood for most of my childhood, as do I, so I continue to split.  Concerns of climate change not withstanding, there is comfort to be found in putting up for winter.  Canning, pickling, and splitting wood that we may emerge from the frigid dark once again, alive and raring to go.
It all began back on Maple Avenue.  I'd been an apartment dweller for my entire life, six years young as it was.  To suddenly have my own yard to dash around in, my own trees to climb, my own garden from which to swipe peas and brussel sprouts, was a gift from on high.  Then one fine autumn morning, a huge truck appeared out of seemingly nowhere, and dumped a massive load of white oak right in the center of my playground.  Another load soon followed.  Everest Quercus, a towering mountain of firewood.  Limbs longer than I was, rounds taller than I, heaped and tangled across the yard.  There were bugs under the bark and mud torn up from the yard.  It was the greatest thing I'd ever seen.
Choosing to invoke the selective hearing granted to all children when parents warn against taking certain actions, for days I clambered over and around it, sprayed the garden hose on the top to see where the water would come out, pried and pulled to see what was in there.  My jungle gym and fort, gateway to imagination, and the beginning of my first big adventure.
Soon enough, men I did not know arrived to help my father break down my fort.  They wielded chainsaws and cant hooks, wore long wooly beards over flannel shirts and pants so dirty my mom would have never let me be seen in them.  And they swung splitting mauls.  That sound of splitting the logs into burnable chunks -- half fastball jumping off white ash, half crunch of hard snow under foot.  The action, the dynamic nature of it all, was intoxicating.  I remember thinking there was a certain gravity to this new situation, though I obviously couldn't verbalize that thought at the time.  Something big was going down, and I wanted in.
So Dad would set me up with a stubby little end cut, the easiest piece to split, and start a wedge for me.  Wedges are often used in conjunction with a standard maul on rounds that are too big for the splitting maul.  And with six-year-olds.  He'd hand me a little two pound hammer -- I remember it now, a blue Estwing -- and I'd tink tink tink away at that wedge until I'd made my little split.  Or until I got tired or bored, just as likely.
I had to choke up on that hammer quite a bit with my little pink paws, and somehow, whether through exuberance or inattention, I finally managed to mash the tip of my right pinkie finger between the face of the hammer and top of the steel wedge.  I remember I cried at the sight of my own blood.  I remember my mother hovering somewhere between harried, concerned, and angry on the drive to the hospital.  I don't remember how many stitches I got, but they followed the blackened nail around the tip of my finger in a perfect tiny crescent, and I was chin-jutting proud of that in the days that followed.  I'd earned my stripes.  One of the boys.
That run to the ER aside, splitting wood has been generally good to me.  It's one of the times you can stand outside pouring sweat, the mercury burrowing below zero, icicles clinging to your beard, and not have to worry if the rescue plane is going to find you in time.  I like to unbend my back every once in a while, and lean on the maul.  Think about pioneers and lumberjacks and other manly stuff.  To feel muscled and strong, robust against the cold.  Like I actually have my shit together for once.  It's a chance to slow down and workout at the same time.  And if you practice long enough, you can ring the bell every time at the carnival, and win your girl a Bon Jovi mirror.
Some woods are more testy than others.  There comes a point in almost every session involving big wood when you are forced to decide whether or not you can carry on.  You have your wedge started in a huge round, probably for the second or third time.  This guy has decided to test you, deflecting your best attempts to cleave, stack, and burn.  You begin with some slightly tentative swings, making sure the wedge is driven, and all is right with the world. 
Now it's time to bring the pain.  You coil and bend, storing all the energy to be released in one massive effort. Getting your feet set, you begin that big power swing, the best one in your arsenal.  Knees, hips, shoulders snap into alignment as your fists slam together at the end of the handle, the head of the maul wails down squarely on the wedge, all the force you can muster behind it.  PING! 
Nothing... until, after a few moments heavy breathing, you begin to hear the faintest crackling.  The frozen fibers beginning to give up their bonds.  And you know, this beast will fall like all before him have.
It always amuses me when you see the leading man in a movie, lantern jawline and not a hair out of place, at his gorgeous log cabin, splitting up perfectly dry and straight pieces of maple for the fire.  They merrily crack and fly apart with barely a touch from the axe or maul.  You'll never see him sweating and cursing, trying like mad to extricate the maul from a gnarled hunk of burr oak.  It's Hollywood, where the girls are plastic and all the firewood is kiln dried.
Fir and pines are a walk in the park. They fly apart with happy ease, the chosen favorites of Instagram wood splitters everywhere. Hard maple, frozen, is among the most satisfying to split. It requires effort, but it will come apart, and the sound of a good swing on maple rings out clean and pure.
Among all woods, elm is my nemesis.  Like many of us who carry the maul and wedge, I can spot it in a wood pile from fifty yards.  Mocking me.  Daring me to even try.  I'm sure there are more difficult woods to split.  Ironwood can give you a backache just looking at it, so heavy and hard.  Shagbark hickory, with all it's armored bark as a warning, will test your shoulders and your will.  Black cherry strikes fear in the heart of mortal men.  But that stringy elm so tirelessly indefatigable.  So unrelenting in it's ability to hang together.  It seemingly wills itself to remain unbroken, the Nelson Mandela of the wood lot.  Many a wedge have been lost in a round of elm, waiting to be freed by the addition of another wedge.  And then another.  Until you find yourself berating an inanimate hunk of cellulose like a homeless wing nut cursing the weather and hot dogs on a street corner.
Swinging with precision is usually more important than swinging hard.  A few stretches before you get going will prevent a lot of soreness, even if you do look like a goober doing yoga in a flannel shirt.  Burn the elm in a campfire so you don't have to break it down as far.  And wood gets heavier as you age.  A lot heavier, but the pull of the wood lot is real, the desire to swing away, so we keep on going, chasing that perfect swing. 
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anony-mouse-writer · 4 days
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I’m thinking about tears of the kingdom again while watching afterthought’s video on how they handled the sequel and I’m sitting here thinking, you know what would have been good?
Like I love ganondoodle’s take with addressing the difference in the gloom and how it related to the shiekah tech, don’t get me wrong.
But if they wanted to give us Wild doing the adventure again, they could have just.
Sent Link back.
Instead of sending back Zelda, send Link. Make Rauru less OP maybe? and have a version of Link that has been massively damaged and is now stranded in the past with no master sword, no shiekah tech, no walking armory of OP weapons or fairy-blessed armor, and a 10 thousand year old version of the guy he just killed, except this one is a strategist with an army instead of a feral dust cloud with a possessed army of half-rotted tech.
Give us Link having to fight his way back up from the top, facing older and more dangerous versions of the monsters he knows and staring up at floating islands that he’s never seen before.
Everyone he meets is new, but most are hauntingly familiar, and maybe a few of the older beings, like the Deku Tree, even recognize that he’s out of place here.
Give us more weird battle strategy stuff like the siege on Gerudo, except this time, it’s helping a group of Gerudo at an oasis protect their fledgling trade camp from Gibidos or even helping the king of Hyruke repel an enemy invasion of a fort.
Give us Link helping a Zora sage protect her temple from a corrupting spirit that threatens her home and hunting down what could be poisoning the Gorons, sneaking through with potions made from half-familiar ingredients.
So much of TOTK is spent telling us that Ancient Things are returning, but they could have given us so much of that by just sending Link to the past. We could have avoided the awkward ‘everyone only kind of knows this kid who saved the kingdom that they definitely met and interacted with significantly’ AND it would have left the perfect opening for Queen “massive fucking history nerd” Zelda to find traces of Link in the little surviving history and going to the dragons or the Deku Tree or the goddesses themselves to try and pull him back to her time, but failing due to her lack of skill with her time powers, only serving to link their souls, but needing to do more before she could pull him back. It would have given her an opportunity to see her interact with her kingdom and see how much she did or did not rely on Link to help her navigate the world. Everyone’s stilted conversations make much more sense if they’re talking to royalty rather than a half-feral knight.
Now she’s the one who has to prove herself to the koroks with all their puzzles and maybe you could even have the shrines be Zonai tests of intellect and Link learns things or gains abilities, some of which he can’t use, but Zelda can through their soul link by connecting at dragon shrines that survived to present day in a system similar to the dragon tears.
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gingersnap-17 · 6 months
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An Icy Rescue (Gojo x Fem Reader)
Hello Everyone! This is the first story I am sharing on Tumblr! I hope you enjoy!
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In a world far removed from the hustle and bustle of modern life, where the 1700s cast its gentle, historical charm, two childhood friends, Y/N and Satoru Gojo, found themselves on the cusp of a memorable winter adventure. Nestled within a small village, the pair had grown up together, their bond forged through the shared experiences of youth. They had spent countless days exploring the serene landscapes, building snow forts, and making fond memories together. As the winter frost painted the world in a layer of shimmering white, they decided to take advantage of the frigid temperatures and venture onto a frozen lake for a day of ice skating.
The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden hue over the pristine snow-covered landscape. The frozen lake glistened like a sheet of glass, inviting the two friends to glide across its surface. Y/N and Satoru laced up their worn but reliable ice skates, their laughter carrying through the crisp winter air as they tested their balance on the slippery ice.
Satoru, with his effortless grace, effortlessly glided across the frozen lake, his movements resembling a dance on ice. Y/N, while not as experienced as Satoru, was determined to keep up. They held hands, their fingers interlaced, and Y/N couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through her at the touch.
As they skated hand in hand, Y/N couldn't help but steal glances at Satoru. Time had been kind to him, and the years had sculpted him into a strong, handsome young man with snow white hair that framed his face perfectly. His sky blue eyes sparkled with mischief as he shot her a playful grin, making her heart flutter.
They glided further out onto the lake, the solitude of the frozen world around them heightening the intimacy of their shared moment. The air was chilly, but the warmth of their friendship kept them feeling cozy. Laughter continued to fill the air as they swirled and twirled, carving their own stories into the ice.
But then, as they ventured further from the shore, Y/N's excitement got the best of her. A misstep sent her tumbling forward, and before she knew it, she had broken through the thin ice, plunging into the freezing water below. Panic surged through her, and the shock of the cold water stole her breath away.
Satoru, with quick reflexes, reacted without hesitation. He skated toward her as if propelled by an unseen force, his heart pounding in his chest. Without thinking, he dropped to his stomach, using his hands to distribute his weight as he extended them towards Y/N. His fingertips grazed her icy hands, and with every ounce of his strength, he managed to haul her out of the frigid water and onto the solid ice.
Y/N gasped, her body shivering uncontrollably from the cold. Satoru immediately pulled off his own coat and wrapped it around her, rubbing her arms vigorously to generate warmth. His concern for her was palpable, his deep azure eyes searching hers for any sign of distress.
"We need to get you warm." he said urgently, his voice filled with worry. He scooped her up into his arms, cradling her gently, and skated back toward land as quickly as he could, all the while whispering reassuring words to her.
They reached Satoru's cottage, a quaint and cozy structure nestled amidst the snow-covered trees. He rushed her inside and set her down by the fire, where a roaring blaze crackled and danced. The warmth of the flames began to seep into Y/N's frozen limbs, providing much-needed relief from the cold.
Satoru continued to tend to her. Removing her wet clothes and replacing them with his own, wrapping her in blankets and offering her a hot cup of tea. He watched over her with unwavering care, his worry evident in his every action. As the color returned to Y/N's cheeks, she couldn't help but be overwhelmed by the depth of Satoru's concern for her well-being.
That day, their bond grew stronger than ever. They spent the evening by the fireside, sharing stories, dreams, and the occasional stolen glance. The brush with danger had illuminated their feelings for one another, and it was clear to both of them that their love ran deeper than friendship.
Underneath the snowy veil of the 1700s, in a world untouched by modernity, Y/N and Satoru's love blossomed like a rare and exquisite flower. Their love story, born from the icy depths of a frozen lake, was a testament to the enduring power of friendship and the transformative magic of love itself. And as the snowflakes continued to fall, they found warmth and solace in each other's arms, grateful for the serendipitous turn of events that had brought them even closer together.
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thisblogdoesnotexisg · 3 months
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HAPPY NEW YEARS AND CHRISTMAS
i have very much fallen behind, so i will give 3 detailed headcanons about each of the holidays mentioned above
CHRISTMAS
morrigan is still learning all of the more popular Christmas carols of the Free State, and prefers them to the ones learned in the Republic. but, every so often, she’ll teach her favorites to the Frank to perform (she only writes them because she dislikes singing and feels silly when she does it, but she can help him get the melody right). sometimes they remix the republic ones because they’re a bit boring and push a controlled narrative, so they replace some of them making fun of the republic if they’re feeling adventurous (jack is the best at it)
they like to mix up different hot cocoa flavors, like putting melted candies in them or coffee creamers. the golden lantern bartender and chef honey(something) host a little competition where the contestants are blindfolded and given hot cocoa, then they have to guess what’s in it. it’s very difficult for everyone, and jupiter understandably has to stay out of it occasionally.
they decorate a Christmas tree with memorabilia of the past christmas parties hosted by frank (ex: a needle felted squirrel for the woodland animals party). there are so many now that there’s a specific tree for all of them in the staff room. it also takes a long time because you can never stop Jupiter to shop reminiscing about each ornament. everyone is always tired of it but morrigan because she wants to know everything about what went on when she wasn’t there so she can feel like she experienced them.
NEW YEARS
sidenote/ i know they don’t really have new years or our equivalent but this is what i imagine it would be like!
they do a similar thing to hot cocoa on new years but instead of a contest they each choose a favorite bubbly drink (none of them have alcohol) and drink them at midnight. they also choose a fancy glass and decorations like edible glitter and cocktail umbrellas.
they make a pillow fort (that’s how the deaucalion knew to use it when they were stressed about the hollowpox) and wait for midnight there, then go to sleep later. they each get a new blanket every year to add to it that relates to their New Year’s resolution.(ex: more clean would be a blanket with sparkles)
they have a tree similar to a Christmas tree where they write their New Year’s resolution and the year on a popsicle stick and decorate accordingly. if you have too many to fit in there you get a mini tree to put your past ones on.
WHEW! that took awhile! sorry for going missing for so long, one of my resolutions will be to stay consistent. divine blessings, all!
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