#grace infused masterpiece

[primaviva]

gingerbread; gwen stacy

featuring. gwen stacy x fem!reader

synopsis. making gingerbread with your girlfriend—gwen stacy.

warnings. none, just fluff! one suggestive joke and intense kiss description

gingerbread—a cherished christmas classic that invokes a symphony of senses, whisking you away to a world of holiday enchantment. as much as you would hate to admit it to someone who is passionate about christmas, the art of constructing a gingerbread house has eluded you. well, perhaps there was a time in your youth when you attempted such a creation, but it never truly became an integral part of your holiday traditions. sure, you delighted in the occasional indulgence of premade gingerbread cookie snacks found at the local market, striving to awaken the spirit of the season. however, those moments were akin to coloring within the lines of gingerbread-themed books from your childhood—a fleeting taste of the magic.

but today, it seemed that this would change.

gwen, surprising a fervent advocate of all things christmas, extended an invitation to her home while her dad was out working late. the purpose? to make gingerbread.

as you stepped into gwen's apartment, a winter wonderland unfolded before you. the air was infused with the delicate fragrance of freshly cut pine, mingling harmoniously with the nostalgic scent of cinnamon and nutmeg. not to mention the little festive touches to the apartment like the wreath that was in your face as you knocked on the door.

in the heart of gwen's kitchen, a tableau of culinary goodness awaited. the ingredients for gingerbread lay scattered across the countertop, more than enough boxes than there should be of premade mix. the scent of ginger mingled with the warmth of the earthy undertones of almond, blending into a fragrant melody that coated the room in an irresistible aroma.

the room buzzed with excitement as you and gwen meticulously measured, combined ingredients, and kneaded the dough. the rhythmic sound of the wooden spoon swirling through the mixture created a rough cadence, accompanied by the gentle clinking of utensils against the mixing bowl.

time seemed to both pass by and stand still at the start of things. with each roll of the pin, the dough spread out, its surface becoming a blank canvas waiting to be shaped into something deliciously beautiful for you to destroyed. gingerbread walls, roofs, windows, and doors emerged from the malleable dough, ready to be transformed into a festive yet architectural masterpiece.

as the premade gingerbread pieces were placed in the oven, the minutes stretched out like taffy, building an air of suspense. the addictive scent of freshly baked gingerbread wafted through the kitchen, enveloping you in its warm embrace.

finally, with a melodious ding, the timer announced the completion of the baking process—a moment that marked the birth of something truly extraordinary.

impatience tinged your words as you exclaimed, "goddamn, i could practically feel my toenails growing in place while waiting for that damn timer!" your frustration evident, you turned your head to the side, seeking any distraction from the anticipation that had reached its peak. with a determined stride, you made your way to the oven, bending down to peer inside. the radiant light within the oven cast a mesmerizing glow upon the smooth, golden-brown texture of the gingerbread, causing your mouth to almost involuntarily salivate.

as you stood there, captivated by the sight before you, gwen playfully observed your expression and couldn't help but chuckle. "take it easy," she teased, joining you by the oven. "even as your girlfriend, i don't think i want to eat gingerbread covered with frosting and... saliva."

her playful remark lightened the moment, allowing a smile to grace your face. the warmth of her presence, coupled with the tantalizing aroma filling the air, intensified the feeling of holiday joy. with a deliberate grace, gwen adorned the oven mitts, preparing to retrieve the gingerbread from its warm haven. as she carefully lifted the tray and placed it on the countertop, the sweet fragrance enveloped the room, an atmosphere of festive delight. it was as if the very essence of christmas had materialized in that humble batch of gingerbread.

"voilà!" gwen declared, her eyes gleaming mischievously. "our gingerbread base is ready for some serious decorating." the prospect of adorning the freshly baked canvas with a burst of color and creativity brought a renewed sense of excitement, infusing the air with a contagious energy.

gwen's eyes sparkled with mischief as she turned to face you, a playful grin spreading across her face. "so, my creative partner in crime, any design in mind for our masterpiece?" her words inviting your imagination to run wild. "i was thinking a haunted gingerbread house, complete with gummy worms and licorice spiders. but i'm open to suggestions, of course." a sigh left your lips, of course spiders.

you couldn't help but wear a sly smirk on your face as you locked eyes with gwen, indulging in the banter between you. "y’know, you sound so corny right now," you jest, a hint of truth lacing your words, eliciting a dry laugh.

gwen couldn't help but laugh at your reaction. "alright, alright, no more cringey names, got it," she replied, feigning seriousness.

sauntering toward the countertop, you leaned on it, peering closely at the freshly baked gingerbread, contemplating the possibilities. "how about we recreate your apartment? a cute lil’ surprise for mister stacy when he returns home."

the thought of transforming the gingerbread canvas into a miniature replica of her own living space definitely excited gwen, even if it was up to debate if she had the skill to execute that.

“i would love for my dad to come home to see a miniature gingerbread version of our apartment,” she put it simply. gwen leaned against the countertop next to you, examining the gingerbread pieces. "we'll need to get creative with the decorations. maybe some pretzel stick furniture, and we can use icing to make tiny portraits of us hanging on the gingerbread walls," she suggested, eyes sparkling with excitement.

gwen walked off to her cabinets and grabbed an array of things ranging from sprinkles, pretzels and cookies, to gumdrops she had stored all the way in the back where you swore you could’ve seen some cobwebs. "so, how's it feel to be in the presence of a master gingerbread architect? i hope you can keep up with my design skills, babe,” gwen smirked playfully, raising an eyebrow at you.

you couldn’t help but let a laugh escape from your throat. “master gingerbread architect? please, if you can’t make your webs stick to the side of a building for more than fifteen seconds i can only imagine how you think you’ll be able to stick two gingerbread walls together with some frosting,” you tease, playfully bumping her hip.

gwen couldn't help but burst into laughter at your remark, pretending to be offended. "hey now, my web-slinging skills may not translate perfectly to gingerbread construction, but i'll have you know i've got a few tricks up my sleeve," she quipped, winking at you.

as she picked up the box of icing, she playfully flicked a bit of it in your direction. "watch out, or i might just stick you to the gingerbread walls too," gwen teased, sticking her tongue out at you.

but in all seriousness, she was grateful for moments like these, where you could just be yourselves and have fun together. as you focused on decorating the gingerbread pieces, she couldn't help but steal glances at you, a soft smile playing on her lips. it was moments like these that made her appreciate how lucky she is to be in your presence.

you chuckled lowly at her little threat. “i think you should watch out then, cus’ who said i wouldn’t enjoy being webbed to the wall by you?” you questioned, making a bold comment to the tall blonde.

you watched as she got together the frosting, mixing it before putting it in baggies. you began copying her movements, helping her mix the already selected holiday colors such as red, green, and white and put them in their respective baggie before cutting the tip of it so it can dispense the frosting.

gwen couldn't help but blush at your daring response, her pale skin transitioning to a pretty rose while feeling a rush of affection toward you. "oh, you’d enjoy it, huh?" she replied, voice laced with amusement. "well, maybe i'll have to put that to the test sometime."

as you worked together to mix the frosting and fill the baggies, she admired the way you effortlessly picked up on the process. it was one of the reasons she loved being with you—you always embraced new challenges with determination and a willingness to learn.

or at least get through those said challenges… if anything.

gwen grabbed a decorative plate, seemingly a fancy traditional plate that looked irish, probably a gift from her grandparents to her dad. once the frosting was ready, she grabbed one of the gingerbread walls and the floor from the parchment and put a dollop to the plate to make it act as glue for stability. then, she began piping a decorative trim along the edges, using the red frosting. gwen delicately squeezed the baggie, letting the smooth, creamy texture glide onto the cookie. the scent of the sugary frosting mixed with the warm gingerbread, creating an intoxicating aroma.

she glanced over at you, noticing your focused expression as you worked on your own piece. "looking good over there," gwen complimented with a grin, playfully nudging your shoulder. “gingerbread, not you, well you are but- i’m talking about your lovely art right there.”

you let out a choked laugh as your hand faltered from piping the frosting down the side of one of the big gingerbread squares for the apartment. it wasn’t too difficult, but for someone who doesn’t do this annually you clearly struggled with some things. “all i've done so far is stick the back wall to the other side that you did,” you state plainly. “if this is art to you then i would hate to hear what you think of picasso.”

gwen couldn't help but let out a boisterous laugh at your self-deprecating comment. "hey, don't sell yourself short! i’m sure picasso would be so proud to see your one singular gingerbread wall," she reassured you, trying to suppress her giggles.

gwen put her piping bag down and walked over to your direction. you felt her chest hit your back as both her arms snaked from behind your waist to your arms. she reached over and gently took your hand, guiding it back to the frosting baggie. "here, let me show you a little trick. just apply a little pressure and let the frosting flow out smoothly all on its own. you got it," she encouraged, setting an example for you.

you tried to pay attention, but it was hard when her smooth yet raspy voice was whispering in your ear, so close you felt her breath tickling your cheek.

you both continued decorating the gingerbread walls, adding intricate details and personal touches. gwen used the white frosting to create a snow-like effect on the roof, while you expertly piped green frosting to resemble a wreath on the front door.

as you worked side by side, the room filled with laughter and the sweet scent of gingerbread and frosting. it was moments like these, where both of you could be silly and enjoy each other's company, that truly made gwen's heart flutter.

you carefully spread a layer of frosting inside the gingerbread house, creating a smooth carpet-like surface. a mischievous grin plays on your lips as an idea takes hold. secretly, you squeeze a dollop of frosting onto your pointer finger, ready to execute your playful plan. "gwen, come see the carpet i did," you command, diverting her attention from the oh so important and intricate task of assembling miniature furniture out of cookies, pretzels, and other random yet surprisingly edible materials. she turns towards you, her gaze fixed on your direction, unsuspecting of what's about to happen.

swiftly, you rise onto the balls of your feet, reaching her height, and with a quick and unexpected motion, you press the frosting onto the tip of her nose, smudging it up towards the bridge. a mischievous giggle escapes your lips as you revel in the spontaneous act, marveling at the frosting adorning gwen's nose.

gwen's eyes widen in surprise, a gasp escaping her lips as her fingertips touch the sticky yet velvety texture of the vibrant green frosting adorning her nose. its hue is so vivid, it could rival even the grinch himself. her eyes widened in mock shock, but a mischievous grin quickly spread across her face. "oh, it's on now!" the blonde exclaimed, playfully narrowing her eyes at you.

without missing a beat, she grabbed a dollop of frosting from the table and quickly retaliated, smearing it on your cheek. "oops, looks like you've got a little something on your face," gwen teased, unable to contain her laughter.

the two of you burst into a fit of giggles, frosting-covered fingers and all. you couldn’t take each other seriously. as the frosting war continued, you both ended up with streaks of frosting on your faces, looking more like abstract art than gingerbread decorators. but it didn't matter—you were having fun, and that's all that truly mattered in that moment.

“hey, i put a lil’ dot on you and not this fat ass blob,” you defend, wiping some of the frosting from the pile she planted on your nose and adding it to her nose. “cute nose job, rudolph. not lookin’ botched at all,” you teased.

gwen couldn't help but laugh at your quick retort, wiping off some of the frosting from her nose and smearing it on your lower jaw. "oh, so you're a critic now, huh?" she playfully responded, a smirk as clear as a snow globe. "well, i'm just gonna add some extra flair to your already sexy nose. rudolph will have nothing on you."

your laughter filled the room as we continued the frosting battle, merrily colorful streaks on each other's faces. no matter how silly or ridiculous you two might look, you were always able to find joy and laughter together.

but amidst the chaos, gwen couldn't help but steal a moment to appreciate your playful spirit and the way your eyes sparkled with mischief. you were truly her partner in crime, and she wouldn't want it any other way. or how she would put it, her “creative partner in gingerbread crime.” well, whatever that means.

the frosting war continued, we eventually ran out of ammunition, leaving you both covered in frosting from head to shoulder. you and your girlfriend stood there, breathless from laughter, and she couldn't resist pulling you into a tight, frosting-covered hug. "you're the best, you know that?" gwen whispered, her voice filled with genuine affection as raspy as it came.

you instinctively step back from the hug, finding yourself nose-deep in gwen's sweater. the thick frosting that had made its way into your nostrils tickles uncomfortably, and you valiantly suppress the urge to let out a loud sneeze. hastily grabbing a napkin, you wipe away the frosting, finally lifting your gaze to meet gwen's as her words register in your mind.

in that moment, clarity dawns upon you, and you realize what she said. the initial distraction of the frosting mishap fades away as you comprehend the deeper meaning behind her innocent words.

“what?” you questioned, urging her to repeat it.

gwen quickly snapped out of her daze, realizing that she had been staring at you. a slight blush crept up on the blonde’s cheeks as she realized that she had been caught. "oh, uh, sorry," gwen stammered, sounding a bit softer than usual. "i was just… admiring how cute you look, even covered in frosting."

a nervous chuckle escapes gwen's lips, a blush creeping across her cheeks as she finds herself feeling more embarrassed than that one time her headphones failed her during class, blaring my chemical romance for an unplanned five seconds. "i guess i got lost in the moment there. but hey, you're always a sight to see, whether you're covered in frosting or not," she stated, trying to play it off like her hands still don’t falter to shake when you make her nervous. gwen reached out and gently wiped a bit of frosting off your cheek with my thumb, her touch lingering for a moment. "you’re my favorite mess," gwen added.

a warmth spreads across your cheeks in response to gwen's comment. "oh, really?" you retort, secretly wanting to hear more from her. however, you quickly regain your composure, reminding yourselves of the task at hand. "enough, we still have shit to do," you interject, trying to steer the focus back to the gingerbread house.

gwen raised an eyebrow at your response, but couldn't help but notice the underlying hint of vulnerability in your tone. “learn to take a compliment,” she comments.

but gwen's soft smile tugs at your heartstrings, drawing you closer to her. she leans in, her gaze fixed on your eyes, as if she's searching for something deeper within you. in a surprising move, she uses her thumb, still adorned with the frosting she had wiped off you, and gently smears it across your lips. her voice carries innocence as she remarks, "looks like you've got a little something."

the touch of gwen's thumb against your lips sends a subtle jolt of electricity through your body, leaving you momentarily breathless.

but as she stepped closer to you, faces mere inches apart, gwen couldn't resist the magnetic pull between you.

as you close the remaining distance between you, gwen's lips meet yours with a gentle, lingering pressure, initiating a tender kiss. the sensation of her lips against yours sends a shiver of delight down your spine. the world around you seems to dissolve into a hazy blur, leaving only the two of you enveloped in a moment of pure connection.

your lips move in perfect synchronization with gwen's, their dance a delicate and intimate rhythm. each brush and caress of her soft lips against yours ignites a cascade of sensations to your skin—subtle yet electrifying. the taste of the frosting lingers on your tongues, a delectable blend of sweetness merging with the warmth of her own unique lip balm, a hint of vanilla intertwined with the minty sweetness.

lost in the tender embrace, you become acutely aware of every detail—the velvety texture of her lips, the way they meet and meld with yours in the most gentle and affectionate manner in which she moves. it's a moment where time stands still, where nothing else matters except the intoxicating closeness and shared intimacy between the two of you.

as you gently pull away from the kiss, your eyes instinctively rise to meet gwen's gaze. her lips, now adorned with a generous coating of green frosting, seem to attract even more of the sticky sweetness due to the presence of her lip balm. a rush of heat floods your cheeks, betraying your flustered state, while gwen smirks knowingly at you. a dry scoff escapes her lips, her eyes fixed unwaveringly on you, clearly surprised by the effect she has on you.

your attention is captivated as gwen's tongue emerges, delicately gliding along her lower lip, collecting the frosting in a deliberate and tantalizing manner. the sight of her tongue ascending to her upper lip, methodically removing the sweet coating, holds you in a mesmerized state. you watch with unwavering focus, afraid to tear your gaze away, as she withdraws her tongue back into her mouth, savoring the taste once more.

gwen, fully aware of the effect her actions have on you, wears an expression of both satisfaction and amusement. it becomes evident that she takes pleasure in being the sole catalyst for such a reaction from you, relishing in the power she holds over your senses.

as gwen finished licking off the frosting from her lips, she let out another low laugh. "mmm, still tastes as good as ever," she commented, her voice tauntingly husky. "you’re right, enough is enough. let’s get back to work, shall we?"

with a playful wink directed your way, gwen swiftly turns around, retrieving a towel and extending it towards you. you accept it, grateful for the gesture, as she grabs another towel for herself. without missing a beat, she proceeds to wipe her face clean, the remnants of frosting vanishing from her lips and leaving behind a pristine canvas. with a determined focus, she resumes her position, ready to dive back into the task at hand.

as you and gwen huddle together, the gingerbread apartment sprawled out before you, a wave of excitement washing over you both. the gingerbread walls, perfectly baked and golden brown, stand tall and sturdy, ready to be transformed. with nimble fingers, you take the lead, carefully applying royal icing along the seams of the rest of the walls, joining them together to form the structure. gwen follows suit, her touch deft and precise, ensuring the stability of the gingerbread apartment. the icing, a pristine white, resembles freshly fallen snow, enhancing the enchanting charm of the scene.

together, you meticulously construct the details—a miniature door, adorned with candy cane stripes, opens up to reveal a sugary haven within. the windows, crafted from translucent sugar sheets, allow glimpses into the home.

inside the gingerbread apartment, you and gwen become masterful decorators, so much so even the hgtv channel overlords would envy you two. tiny tinsel garlands, carefully woven together, drape along the walls, reflecting the glow of imaginary holiday lights. delicate icicle-shaped ornaments, made from crystallized sugar, hang from the ceilings, shimmering with a frosted sparkle. the living room area boasts a miniature christmas tree, painstakingly fashioned from piped green icing and dressed with tiny edible baubles, crafted from old halloween candies. a crackling fireplace, created by using chocolate shavings and red m&ms, casts a false warmth to the empty room. moving into the kitchen, a gingerbread dining table, complete with intricate icing lacework, holds a feast of miniature treats. tiny gingerbread cookies, iced with intricate designs, sit in a bowl, waiting to be enjoyed by you and your girlfriend. plates of assorted candies and chocolates are arranged, slowly dwindling as your hands continue to dig into the bowl for more material.

the two of you continued working on the gingerbread house, your playful banter and teasing gradually fading into a comfortable silence. as you placed the final touches, the gingerbread apartment began to take shape, looking like a cozy little abode.

both of you stepped back, admiring your handiwork. the walls were neatly decorated with frosting trim, the roof had a snowy white frosting coating, and the windows were outlined with colorful candies. it was painfully over-stimulating to the eyes of anyone who hates christmas, but also beautiful.

gwen reached out and took your hand in hers, squeezing it gently. "look at that! we make quite the dynamic duo, don't we?" she remarked, a bit too prideful of her mediocre work. "our gingerbread house is the envy of all gingerbread houses.”

you continue to stare at it, finally realizing why it bothered you. “it’s missing something,” you put simply. “we need to add the little people who will live in this apartment.”

gwen nodded in agreement, leaning a bit onto your shoulder to see from your perspective. "you're right, it needs some little residents to bring it to life," she replied, her mind already racing with ideas.

she reached for the bowl of extra gingerbread dough and started rolling it out. gwen looked over at you, a soft yet evident grin on her face. "how about we make gingerbread versions of ourselves? it'll be like a little homage to us," she suggested, a playful smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

gwen began cutting out the shapes, carefully crafting miniature versions of the both of you with the dough. as she added the details, gwen couldn't help but chuckle at the tiny gingerbread drum set she included for her miniature self.

once the dough was baked and cooled, you set to work on decorating our gingerbread doppelgangers.

as gwen rummages through her cabinets, retrieving an array of icing tubes, a flicker of suspicion tugs at the corners of your mind. the sheer variety she has in her possession leaves you slightly amazed, as well as curious and a bit concerned. nonetheless, you set aside your intrigue and begin piping the features of your gingerbread creation, starting with your own skin tone, meticulously crafting every detail.

glancing over at gwen's side, a knowing smirk graces your lips as you catch a glimpse of her artistic endeavors. with precision and flair, she expertly pipes her iconic half-shaved hairstyle onto the gingerbread figure. the piercing blue eyes she possesses, which sometimes give you the creeps, are replicated with remarkable accuracy. the adorable ensemble of wide-legged jeans, converse shoes, and a shirt adorned with a hand-drawn heart catches your attention. squinting slightly, you can read word for word what it says.

"i heart my girlfriend?" you repeat aloud, surprise evident in your voice.

gwen's laughter rings out, full and infectious. "you took the words out of my mouth," she playfully teases, reveling in the shared sentiment.

unable to resist the warmth that spreads across your face, you steal a glance to your right, discovering that gwen has already crafted a little gingerbread man of her father. turning your attention back to your own mini-you, you work diligently, not wanting to fall behind the swift pace set by your girlfriend.

as you finished and placed the gingerbread versions of yourselves inside the gingerbread house, it truly came to life.

you stepped back, taking in the sight of your creation one final time. "perfect," you declared, a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction filling you.

"it’s so perfect,” gwen adds, mimicking what you said.

you let out an exaggerated eye-roll, your playful annoyance evident. "well, thanks for that," you quip, though your words are tinged with a hint of amusement. but then, as a mischievous thought strikes you, you freeze in mock disbelief, placing your hands dramatically on your head.

in a sarcastically shocked tone, you inquire, "but wait... who will protect them from harm?" your voice drips with playful melodrama, heightening the comedic effect of your question.

slowly turning towards her, you meet her gaze, awaiting her response. with a mischievous grin, she finally breaks her silence.

"i'm so glad you asked," she declares.

in one swift motion, gwen lifts her mini gingerbread representation of herself and playfully makes it leap onto the roof of the gingerbread apartment. as she rotates it, a delightful surprise is revealed—the infamous ghost spider suit, meticulously piped onto the other side down to the mask to the teal ballet slippers.

"don't worry," gwen reassures you with a touch of theatrical flair, "i'll be there to save my damsel in distress."

you try to maintain an unamused expression, your face fighting back a smile as you struggle not to burst into laughter.

gwen couldn't help but break into uncontrollable laughs at your reaction, her shoulders shaking with mirth.

"surprise!" she exclaimed, unable to contain her amusement. "you didn’t think i would add the one and only spider woman of new york? you had to have seen this coming."

gwen playfully made her mini gingerbread ghost spider do a little victory dance on the roof of the gingerbread apartment, reveling in the silliness of it all. but beneath the lightheartedness, there was a hint of truth to her words.

she walked over to you, wrapping her arms around your waist, laughter subsiding into a warm smile. "but y’know, i don't need a superhero suit to be your hero," she whispered.

gwen couldn't help but lean in again, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, the taste of frosting still lingering.

both of you erupted into laughter, unable to contain your amusement at gwen's joke. the joyful sound filled the room until it was cut short as the door knob turned and the door abruptly swung open, revealing gwen's father returning home from his shift at the station.

"how's it going, girls..." his voice trailed off, his steps slowing as he took in the unexpected scene before him.

the air was thick with the scent of frosting, and the room bore witness to a delightful chaos of flour, candies, and scattered decorations. but amidst the mess, the most prominent sight was your meticulously crafted miniature replica of the apartment.

you both froze in place as her dad's voice filled the room, a mix of embarrassment and panic coursing through your girlfriend's veins. she turned to face him, cheeks burning with a bright shade of red she usually rocked when embarrassed. "uh... hey, dad," gwen stammered, trying to sound casual despite the chaos surrounding you both.

gwen quickly glanced at you, hoping to find some solace in the situation, but it seemed like you were just as caught off guard as her. she could practically hear the gears turning in her dad's head as he tried to make sense of the scene before him.

before he could say anything, gwen took a deep breath and mustered up all the confidence she could. "surprise, dad! we made a gingerbread apartment!" she blurted out, gesturing towards your creation. "and, uh, we may have gotten a little carried away with the frosting and...stuff.”

“stuff?” george repeated, stepping closer to the counter to get an even better look at the creation. you could see her dad's expression soften as he took in the sight, his lips twitching with the hint of a smile. "well, it certainly looks like you two had a blast," he chuckled, shaking his head. "just make sure to clean up after yourselves, alright?"

in perfect synchrony, your voices blend seamlessly as you both respond simultaneously with the words "of course, mr. stacy" and "yes, dad.”

relief washed over you both as you realized her dad wasn't angry or upset. he understood that sometimes you both could get a little carried away with our antics. you both nodded vigorously, already planning on how to tackle the mess.

as her dad left the kitchen, she turned to you with a sheepish smile. "well, that could have gone worse," gwen affirmed, relief evident in the way her chest exhaled. "looks like we'll have a lot of cleaning up to do, huh?"

“a lot seems like an oversimplification of it,” you groan, looking around at the absolute mess you both made of the kitchen. “and here i thought we was finally gonna eat the damn thing”

gwen grabbed a nearby towel and started wiping the frosting off the table, motioning for you to join her. "but you know what they say, babe. teamwork makes the dream work," she added, causing you to instinctually roll your eyes yet again.

as you diligently sweep the floor, meticulously wash down the counters, and even kneel down to scrub away any lingering evidence of your reckless baking, your eyes continue to wander back to the oh so enchanting gingerbread house. its intricate details and sugary allure beckon you, tempting your senses to just skip the cleaning and go straight to dessert. from a distance, gwen chuckles playfully as she attentively wipes down the inside of the stove.

"ahem," she interrupts. "i must kindly request that you refrain from placing your little grimy hands on our masterpiece," gwen mockingly asserts.

she pauses, allowing a moment for her words to sink in. "please, let it exist in its full glory for at least thirty more minutes," she pleads, a hint of jest coloring her voice. "or, if you can't resist, at least capture its beauty on your phone before you rip it apart."

a deep sigh escaped from your lips as you surrender to your girlfriend, continuing to guide the broom across the floor.

- comments and reblogs are appreciated!

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[zapreportsblog]

Hello! So I had this Poly!Volturi Knights x Reader idea

Where (y/n) went to a “Red and Black ball”(you can pick the readers outfit if you want) made by the Volturi kings themselves.

And during their time at the ball they made eye contact with each of the knights as they walked pass by them

Almost like a slow motion moment Yknow😅

This is so cool I can definitely do this and I’ll even have it as each of their povs further down in this

↱ queen of the ball ↰

➘ summary : the volturi goes all out for their newest member, it’s a good thing they are hosting a ball tonight

➘ a/n : I don’t feel I did my best for this but I hope you enjoy it nevertheless :)

➘ Jane x Alec x reader x demetri x felix , volturi x reader

The grand halls of the Volturi castle were adorned with opulent decorations, a tapestry of black and red intertwining to create an ambiance of both elegance and power. The anticipation was palpable as guests from all corners of the vampire world gathered for the much-awaited black and red ball, hosted by the Volturi kings themselves.

In a secluded chamber within the castle, the newest member of the Volturi, (Y/N), stood before a full-length mirror. She was surrounded by a whirlwind of activity as skilled hands worked to transform her appearance. The dress that had been meticulously designed for her lay across a chair, a masterpiece of black silk with intricate red accents that mimicked the patterns of rose petals.

Marcus, known for his impeccable taste and eye for design, had overseen every detail of the dress's creation. He had chosen to infuse it with an air of enchantment, a nod to the fairy tales that humans so often told. The dress clung to her figure in all the right places, the red accents tracing delicate lines that emphasized her natural beauty.

Aro, with his flair for the dramatic, had arranged for a hairstylist and makeup artist to enhance (Y/N)'s features. Her (h/c) hair was woven into an intricate updo, adorned with delicate red crystals that caught the light and shimmered like stars. The makeup artist had worked magic with brushes and pigments, enhancing her eyes and lips in a way that accentuated her allure without overpowering her natural radiance.

As the finishing touches were applied, (Y/N)'s reflection stared back at her with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. This was a night of celebration, a chance for her to make her mark within the Volturi and to showcase her newfound place as a member of their family. She had been embraced by the kings, and tonight, she would step into her role with grace and poise.

With a final flourish, her reflection smiled back at her, and the transformation was complete. She turned to face the attendants, gratitude filling her eyes. "Thank you all. I never imagined I would be part of such an extraordinary event."

Caius, whose taste leaned towards luxury and indulgence, entered the room, holding a pair of red and black heels with a glass-like sheen. "To complete the ensemble," he declared, a rare hint of a smile tugging at his lips. The shoes were a work of art, a perfect match to the dress that had been crafted with such care.

Finally ready, (Y/N) took one last look in the mirror before stepping out into the bustling hallway. The whispers of admiration that followed her as she walked towards the ballroom were a testament to the effort that had been put into her transformation. The dress swirled around her with each step, the red accents catching the light and creating an ethereal glow.

As she entered the ballroom, the atmosphere shifted. All eyes turned towards her, the sea of black and red parting to make way for her presence. The Volturi kings stood at the center, their gazes filled with approval and a touch of awe. Aro's grin was infectious, and Caius's nod of approval held more weight than she could have hoped for.

Marcus approached her, his calm demeanor softened by a smile. "You look stunning, my dear. Your mates will surely love seeing you in this."

With each note of the music that filled the air, (Y/N) felt the weight of her new role lifting. She was not just a member of the Volturi; she was a part of a family that celebrated her, appreciated her, and had dressed her in a gown fit for a modern Cinderella.

Demetri's eyes were fixed on the entrance to the grand ballroom, his heart pounding with an excitement he couldn't contain. He had heard the whispers and the anticipatory hum that had swept through the castle, signaling the arrival of someone special. And then, like a vision materializing from his most fervent dreams, she appeared.

(Y/N) walked into the room, her presence captivating everyone in its wake. His breath caught in his throat as his gaze traveled down her figure, taking in the sight of the black Cinderella-like dress with its delicate red accents. The dress hugged her curves with a grace that left him momentarily speechless.

The red accents seemed to dance like flames against the darkness of the dress, creating an enchanting contrast that mirrored her captivating aura. Her (h/c) hair was elegantly styled, adorned with crimson crystals that caught the light and shimmered like stars in the night sky. The makeup that enhanced her features was a masterpiece, drawing his attention to her mesmerizing eyes and the curve of her lips.

Every step she took seemed to be guided by an otherworldly elegance, as if the very air around her recognized her significance. Demetri's heart swelled with pride as he watched her, a fierce possessiveness welling up within him. She was his mate, a beacon of beauty that had captured his heart and soul from the moment they had met.

Her eyes scanned the room, a mixture of curiosity and wonder reflecting in their depths. It was as if she was seeing the grandeur of the ballroom for the first time, and in a way, he realized, she was. This was her introduction to the world of the Volturi, and he was both honored and anxious to be a part of this pivotal moment in her life.

Demetri's thoughts raced as he continued to watch her. The way she moved, the way she interacted with the other guests—everything about her was a testament to her innate grace and charm. He knew that this was a night she would remember, a night that would etch itself into her memory just as indelibly as it would in his.

As the music swelled and couples began to dance, Demetri found himself unable to tear his gaze away from her. She was the center of attention, the embodiment of the beauty and elegance that the night represented. And in that moment, he knew that he was the luckiest man alive to have her as his mate, to witness her in all her glory as she graced the ballroom with her presence.

Jane's crimson eyes were fixed on the entrance to the ballroom, her usually impassive expression betraying a flicker of anticipation. She had heard the whispers and felt the subtle shift in the atmosphere, signaling the arrival of someone who held a special place in her heart. And then, as if stepping out of a fairy tale, (Y/N) walked into the room.

A rare warmth spread through Jane's chest as she took in the sight before her. The black Cinderella-like dress with its intricate red accents was a striking choice that perfectly complemented (Y/N)'s allure. Jane's lips curved into a small, genuine smile as she recognized the dress as a creation from Marcus's impeccable taste. It seemed that even the reserved Volturi kings could not resist the allure of such an enchanting design.

(Y/N) moved with a grace that demanded attention, her every step exuding confidence and elegance. Jane's gaze lingered on the red accents, noting how they seemed to capture the light and create a luminous effect against the dark fabric. Her (h/c) hair was styled in a way that emphasized her beauty without overpowering it, and the makeup highlighted her delicate features.

The transformation was remarkable, turning (Y/N) into a vision that was hard to ignore. Jane's heart swelled with a mixture of emotions, a potent blend of pride and possessiveness. This was her mate, someone who had captured her heart and whose presence held an undeniable significance in her life.

As (Y/N)'s gaze swept across the room, Jane couldn't help but admire the way her eyes sparkled with curiosity and wonder. She was taking in the grandeur of the ballroom, a place that was undoubtedly foreign to her. Jane felt a desire to protect (Y/N) from the attention and scrutiny that came with being a part of the Volturi, even as she recognized (Y/N)'s inner strength.

The music resonated through the air, couples twirling and dancing to its rhythm. Jane's attention, however, remained solely on (Y/N). She watched as (Y/N) interacted with the other guests, her genuine smile and the ease with which she carried herself drawing people to her like moths to a flame.

In that moment, Jane was overcome with a sense of gratitude. She knew that finding a mate was a rare and precious gift, and having (Y/N) by her side was a privilege she cherished. As the night unfolded, Jane knew that this would be a memory she would hold onto—a memory of the night she watched her mate, resplendent in a black dress with red accents, make her mark in the world of vampires and within the depths of Jane's own heart.

Alec's gaze was unwavering as he stood at the edge of the ballroom, his typically calm demeanor masking the rush of emotions that surged within him. The anticipation in the air was almost palpable, the collective excitement of the guests adding to the electric atmosphere. And then, like a beacon of elegance and beauty, (Y/N) walked into the room.

His breath caught in his throat as his eyes locked onto her figure. The black Cinderella-like dress adorned with delicate red accents clung to her form in a way that seemed almost poetic. Alec's lips curved into a rare, genuine smile as he recognized the elegance of the dress as a creation of Marcus's meticulous design.

(Y/N)'s every movement was a symphony of grace, her steps measured yet exuding a confidence that drew all eyes toward her. Alec's gaze lingered on the red accents that seemed to come alive under the light, casting a mesmerizing glow against the backdrop of the night. Her (h/c) hair, styled with a touch of understated glamour, framed her face in a way that enhanced her natural beauty.

Alec's heart swelled with a mixture of emotions as he watched her. There was a sense of pride that she was his mate, a feeling of possessiveness that he had never experienced before. Her transformation was remarkable, turning her into a vision that was both captivating and enchanting.

(Y/N) turned her head slightly, her eyes scanning the room with a mix of curiosity and wonder. Alec's heart skipped a beat as he imagined what thoughts might be passing through her mind. She was stepping into a world vastly different from her own, and he couldn't help but feel an urge to shield her from the complexities that came with their world.

The music filled the air, couples swaying to its rhythm, but Alec's focus remained solely on (Y/N). He watched as she interacted with others, her genuine smile and engaging presence drawing people to her effortlessly. He admired her strength and warmth, traits that had won him over from the moment they had met.

As the night unfolded, Alec knew that this moment would remain etched in his memory. Watching (Y/N) navigate the intricacies of their world, dressed in the black and red ensemble that mirrored her grace and beauty, was a memory he would treasure forever. She was not only a part of his world but a part of his very soul, and he couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude that fate had brought them together.

Felix's dark eyes remained fixed on the entrance to the ballroom, his usually composed demeanor betraying a subtle restlessness. He had heard the murmurs and sensed the excitement that hung in the air like static, announcing the arrival of a special guest. And then, as if emerging from the depths of his most cherished dreams, (Y/N) stepped into view.

A slow, appreciative smile tugged at the corners of his lips as his gaze traveled over her. The black Cinderella-like dress with its intricate red accents was a masterpiece that held his attention captive. Felix's usually stoic expression softened as he took in every detail—the way the dress clung to her figure, the red accents that seemed to shimmer like embers against the darkness.

(Y/N) moved with a regal grace, each step exuding a confidence that drew the eyes of everyone in the room. Felix's heart swelled with a mixture of pride and possessiveness as he watched her. This was his mate, the person who had captured his heart in a way that he had never thought possible. Her transformation was nothing short of breathtaking, a testament to the care and attention that had been poured into her appearance.

The (h/c) hair that framed her face was styled in a way that highlighted her features, enhancing her natural beauty without overpowering it. Felix's eyes lingered on the delicate details—the crimson crystals that adorned her hair, the makeup that accentuated her eyes and lips in a way that left him entranced.

As (Y/N)'s gaze swept across the room, Felix's heart skipped a beat. He admired the way she carried herself, the ease with which she engaged with the other guests. There was an air of curiosity and wonder in her eyes, as if she was seeing this world through a new lens. And in a way, she was. This was her introduction to the Volturi's grandeur, and Felix was both humbled and anxious to be a part of this pivotal moment in her life.

The music filled the air, couples swaying in time to its melody, but Felix's attention remained solely on (Y/N). He watched as she interacted with others, her presence commanding attention, her genuine smile captivating those around her.

With each passing moment, Felix felt an overwhelming surge of gratitude. This was the mate he had longed for, the one who completed him in ways he hadn't thought possible. As the night unfolded, he couldn't help but marvel at the image of (Y/N) dressed in the black and red ensemble, a representation of her beauty and the depth of their connection. This was a memory he would hold close, a moment in time that encapsulated the beginning of a new chapter in both their lives.

A sense of unity seemed to permeate the air as Alec, Jane, Felix, and Demetri exchanged glances, a silent understanding passing between them. Their posts were important, but this was a moment they couldn't let slip by unnoticed. As if guided by an unspoken agreement, they discreetly left their respective places and converged in a more secluded corner of the ballroom.

Alec's gaze held a soft intensity as he spoke first, his voice low and filled with genuine admiration. "You look breathtaking, (Y/N). The dress, the way you carry yourself—it's truly enchanting."

Jane's crimson eyes held a warmth that was rare for her, her lips curving into a genuine smile. "I must admit, I'm not one for compliments, but tonight you've managed to capture everyone's attention, including mine. You are a vision."

Felix's usually boisterous demeanor was replaced with a subdued reverence. "You've managed to stun even me, and that's saying something. The dress, the way you've carried yourself—it's as if you were made for this moment."

Demetri, who often wore a laid-back smile, looked at (Y/N) with a blend of fondness and pride. "You've brought a different kind of light to this event. It's like you've breathed life into the room, and I have to say, you've made quite the impression."

As (Y/N) listened to their words, her heart swelled with a mixture of happiness and gratitude. To have the attention and affection of these four individuals, each of whom was so integral to the Volturi, was a feeling that she couldn't put into words.

"Thank you," she replied, her voice filled with sincerity. "Your words mean more to me than you'll ever know."

Alec's lips curved into a small smile as he exchanged a look with the others. "We're not ones for public displays of emotion, but tonight is different. Tonight, we want you to know just how much you've enriched our lives."

Jane's gaze held a softness that spoke volumes, and Felix nodded in agreement. Demetri, always one for straightforwardness, offered a warm grin. "You're an exceptional addition to our family, and you've made this night unforgettable."

As they stood together, the Volturi guards and their mate shared a moment that transcended words—a connection forged by shared admiration and affection. And as the music played on, they returned to their respective posts, knowing that this night would forever remain etched in their memories as a testament to their unity and the strength of their bonds.

#x reader #x reader oneshot #x reader one shot #volturi imagines #the volturi #volturi imagine #volturi x reader #jane volturi #jane volturi x reader #alec volturi #alec volturi x reader #felix volturi #felix volturi x reader #demetri volturi #demetri volturi x reader #taking requests #requests #requested #twilight masterlist

[worldbuildingwanderlust]

In the intimate Dance Between shadow and light The Sun and Earth Paint Their grace

Dispersing and shading Blending and infusing Particles Into a cascading array Bled in gold Across the sky

This sensual collision A masterpiece Of their divine Energy

#my writing #my photgraphy #poetry #poem #spilled ink #creative writing #nature #nature poem #shadow and light #sky #sunset #nature photography #poets on tumblr #writers on tumblr #writers and poets

[shiyorin]

#Fulgrim x Reader

#I don't know what else to say but it's just Fulgrim and the way he appreciates your beauty.

#TW: Foot fetish :v

"Hold still." Fulgrim murmured, his voice reverberating with the faintest undercurrent of reverent focus.

You didn't pay his gentle admonition any heed. You lounged indolently upon the sleekly curved divan, hair disheveled and spilling. One shapely leg kicked out at an indolent angle, sole flexing as though to dislodge the embroidered confection of ribbons and organza puddling about your ankles.

Pursing his lips, the Phoenician found himself reaching out to steady that recalcitrant limb, chiding his guest. "My dearest, you must remain composed if I'm to properly attire you."

Your eyes slitted open at that, glinting with indolent amusement. "Must I?" You reply, somehow infusing even those two simple words with silken intimations. "And why should I?"

Had it been anyone addressing him in that tone, Fulgrim might have dismissed them from his presence then and there. But not you. No, toward you he could only sigh with a mixture of exasperation and sublime fascination, conflicting psycho-sculpted vectors tugging him in myriad directions at once.

"Because this night's very important," he explained for what felt like the hundredth time that hour. And for perhaps the hundredth time as well, Fulgrim found his gaze drifting downward over the perfection of your form. From the artful tumble of shimmering tresses to the exquisite hollow of throat and collarbones, all the way down to the ... full swell of...

"You need not demean yourself so, my lord."

Your low, throaty voice rippled as the primarch of the Emperor's Children knelt before your form. Still, you made no move to halt his ministrations or avert your shapely limbs from his attentions.

"Nonsense," the Phoenician throwing you a smile that could disarm worlds. "It is no indignity to bask in sublime beauty and assist in rendering it transcendent."

A delicate smile at that polished retort. "I had expected you of all the primarchs to disdain such... posturing."

If your words landed true, Fulgrim gave no indication. He continued deftly clasping the delicate chains braided from liquid shadow composite to your mirrsilk bodysuit. Each glinting loop spilled outward like baroque silvered vines from the highly articulated armor plates protecting your ankles.

"Posturing?" The primarch arched one perfect, sculpted eyebrow in an aristocratic moue of surprise. "My dear, assisting you in accentuating your exquisite conformation is art of the highest caliber."

Fulgrim paused in trailing his masterful fingertips along the lush, flawless contours of your calf muscle. For a fleeting moment, his noble visage flickered barely perceptible acknowledgment that you had scored a glancing blow with your provocations. Just as quickly, however, that momentary pique faded beneath the Phoenician's typical aura of unshakable poise.

"I don't merely endeavor to enhance your sublime beauty out of empty ritual." he clarified, steadily working the umbrahyde ribbons further up your leg. "Rather, I seek to elevate it to the masterwork it deserves."

The primarch shook his head minutely, allowing several perfectly-coiffed strands of silken platinum to fall charmingly across his brow. He hadn't summoned his entire coterie of beautifiers and augmenated ordators for this affair, only his most trusted serfs. Adorning true, living art required focus and reverence beyond what most anyone could muster.

Pick up the ankle-length indigo striders with the same reverence as handling sanctified gene-wrought. Chemos worked every rivet and nanosynthesized composite fiber with their most skillful arts. Even on the field of apotheosis, no detail was too insignificant nor craftsmanship not elevated into a breathtaking masterpiece.

But compared to the transcendent fleshwork that would soon grace these accoutrements, their beauty paled into vapid obscurity. 

Slowly, reverently, with each appreciative caress and brush of finely wrought material over sacrosanct dermis, he felt himself descending into a blissful rapture few mortals had ever experienced.

Through of his eyes, details of imperfection normally invisible to visual spectra alone burned in blinding clarity through his primogenoid senses. Not the slightest defect escaped his adoring scrutiny as your sculpted perfection unveiled itself in achingly slow ceremony.

First the ankles, those deceptively delicate articulation nodes sutured by intricate hyper-density musculature. How he lavished upon them, worshiping every curve while his psyche greedily drank in their elegant sublimity. Then the calves, wherein bulged and beauty beyond mere human comprehension. Fulgrim's hands roamed across each subtly undulating contour and veinridge.

Next came the magnificence of your thighs, a masterwork of helice and kinesis that stole both breath and soul with its supreme proportions. Such gracious lines and mesmerizing flexion, profiles carved by a billion recursive movements and honed into perfect design.

These were the idealized aesthetics for which any crudely-conceived "masterpieces" could only ever remain a pale imitation. Your body constituted a living canvas of sacred and perfection resonating at the exalted wavelengths of universal beauty....

"You're staring again."

Your voice sliced through the contemplative silence like a razor-edged sibilance. Fulgrim blinked, only just realizing his thought.

"Apologies." the noble primarch offered with an elegant dip of his perfect features. "You'll have to forgive an artist's momentary rapture when confronted with such a breathtaking subject."

Then, with a courtly flourish utterly at odds with his preceding transformation, the Lord of the Third raised your fingers to his full, sensuous lips. Jeweled irises of amethyst glowed with inner luminescence as he pressed a kiss to your silk glove.

"Come." he urged. "They await an introduction..."

#shiyorin's writer #wh40crack #primarch x reader #reader insert #romantic stuff in 40k

[ariesblaze666]

Hihi!! Seen your reqs open :D I didn’t see any specifics on what you write, soo I want to request a canon x canon using Mister Demi & Miss Sasha! About how Mister Demi just adores her from afar before having some help from the other teachers to confess to Miss Sasha.

Melodies of Love Mister Demi x Miss Sasha

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Start

In the bustling halls of Paper School, there existed a subtle symphony of emotions between two teachers: Mister Demi, the passionate music maestro, and Miss Sasha, the enchanting art aficionado.

Mister Demi found himself entranced by Miss Sasha's graceful demeanor and the effortless strokes of her paintbrush as she brought canvases to life. From afar, he admired her creativity, her poise, and the gentle melody of her laughter echoing through the corridors.

In his music room, amidst the crescendos and decrescendos of melodies, Mister Demi often found himself lost in thought, composing tunes inspired by the mere sight of Miss Sasha, his muse.

'There she is,' he would think, watching her delicately guide her students through the nuances of color and form. 'How I wish I could express the symphony of emotions she stirs within me.'

However, Mister Demi was too shy to approach Miss Sasha, fearing that his words would stumble like misplaced notes in a melody. Instead, he contented himself with stealing glances from across the schoolyard and weaving his unspoken adoration into every chord he played.

Meanwhile, Miss Sasha, immersed in her world of colors and textures, was oblivious to the silent serenade orchestrated by Mister Demi's heart.

Unbeknownst to him, the other teachers at Paper School had noticed Mister Demi's infatuation. Determined to unite the two kindred spirits, they hatched a plan to bring their love story to life.

One sunny afternoon, as Mister Demi plucked the strings of his guitar in the courtyard, he was startled by the unexpected presence of his fellow teachers.

"We have a proposition for you, Demi," Ms. Emily said while the other teacher gave him a knowing smiles.

Intrigued, Mister Demi listened as they outlined their plan to help him confess his feelings to Miss Sasha through a harmonious collaboration between art and music.

With newfound courage fueled by the support of his colleagues, Mister Demi composed a symphony of love, each note infused with the depths of his affection for Miss Sasha.

On the day of the grand reveal, as Miss Sasha led her students through an outdoor art exhibition, she was greeted by the enchanting strains of music drifting through the air.

Intrigued, she followed the sound until she reached the courtyard, where Mister Demi stood, his heart laid bare in the melodies he played.

With trembling hands and a voice filled with emotion, Mister Demi confessed his love to Miss Sasha, his words weaving seamlessly with the music that surrounded them.

Overwhelmed by the beauty of his gesture, Miss Sasha's heart soared, and she reached out to take his hand, her eyes shimmering with tears of joy.

From that moment on, Mister Demi and Miss Sasha's love blossomed like a masterpiece painted by the hands of fate, their union a testament to the power of music and art to transcend boundaries and bring souls together in perfect harmony.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳End

Lol, this is shitty 🤣

But, thank you for the request

#cannon x cannon #fundamental paper education #mister demi #anon request #oneshot

[liliomme]

Curating my fashion aesthetic base on celebrities who have the same placement as me. [part 2]

₊ ⊹ Taurus Mc | Leo Rising

Taurus Midheaven, draped in an ethereal tapestry of refinement, emanates a palpable aura of timeless grace and opulence. Their style exudes an intoxicating fusion of classic sophistication and earthly sensuality, adorned with sumptuous fabrics that whisper of indulgence and comfort. Embracing a harmonious blend of neutral tones and rich earthy hues, they effortlessly exude an air of natural elegance. Their wardrobe boasts meticulously tailored pieces, capturing the essence of enduring beauty, while delicate touches of floral motifs and fine jewelry embellish their ensembles, symbolizing their unyielding connection to the earthly realm. With an unwavering appreciation for luxury and quality craftsmanship, Taurus Midheaven gracefully embraces a style that embodies both refinement and an understated sensuality, leaving an indelible impression on all who have the privilege of beholding their regal presence.

(Ex. Emma Stone, Selena Gomez, Marilyn Monroe, Blake Lively, And Alexa Demie)

Taurus Midheaven fearlessly embraces a palette of bold and vibrant colors, showcasing their penchant for making a statement through their style. They adorn themselves in rich jewel tones like deep sapphire blues, regal emerald greens, and fiery ruby reds, creating an aura of striking confidence and allure. Their wardrobe consists of luxurious fabrics in bold hues, from flowing silk dresses in electric blue to tailored suits in daring shades of emerald green, reflecting their unapologetic desire to stand out and command attention. Taurus Midheaven embraces the power of color, infusing their style with a captivating energy that exudes both strength and elegance.

The Taurus Midheaven exudes an aura of regal grace and captivating confidence, showcasing a vibrant fusion of luxurious richness and dramatic flair. Adorned in opulent hues and bold statement pieces, their style commands attention and radiates an air of majestic charisma. (Leo Rising | Taurus Mc Below )

With the Leo Rising style, the Queen Lioness emerges, adorned in a regal tapestry of confidence and fierce elegance. Her fashion choices roar with audacity, as she embraces bold colors, opulent fabrics, and glamorous embellishments that command attention and leave onlookers in awe. Every ensemble is a masterpiece, meticulously crafted to accentuate her majestic presence, with flowing capes, shimmering sequins, and lavish jewelry that catch the light and reflect her radiance. Her mane is meticulously styled, framing her face like a golden halo, while her regal posture exudes an air of self-assured grandeur. The Leo Rising style is a symphony of boldness and beauty, celebrating the essence of the Lioness as she confidently walks her path.

Alexa Demie, with her Leo Rising, exudes a style that captures the essence of contemporary glamour and unabashed confidence. She effortlessly blends boldness and femininity, embracing figure-hugging silhouettes, plunging necklines, and luxurious fabrics that shimmer with every step. Adorned with a radiant Leo energy, her hair is often styled in glamorous waves or playful curls, framing her face like a crown, while her makeup showcases a sultry palette that accentuates her features. Alexa Demie's style celebrates the modern embodiment of Leo Rising, commanding attention with her unapologetic allure.

Marilyn Monroe, an iconic figure of the past, embodied the Leo Rising style with her timeless glamour and magnetic charm. Her fashion choices were a blend of classic elegance and captivating sensuality. Known for her figure-flattering silhouettes, Monroe embraced form-fitting dresses that accentuated her curves, often featuring plunging necklines and glamorous details. Her hair, with its signature platinum blonde hue, was styled in soft waves that exuded an air of feminine allure. Monroe's makeup emphasized her captivating features, with bold red lips and defined eyes, captivating the world with her timeless beauty and leaving an indelible mark in the realm of Leo Rising style.

#leo rising #leo sun #leo venus #taurus #taurus mc

[rainroses45]

A Lover & Fighter

☾description: Neteyam realizes something important about your relationship (Neteyam x fem. reader)

☾a/n: i wrote this at night because i need a sad word dump…anywho i tried (not edited :))

☾song inspiration: try-pink (sped up) & teen suicide - haunt me (x3)

⋆｡°✩ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ✩°｡⋆

Her hair was laced in beaded braids. Her necklaces hung from her neck like medals. The twinkle of hope and despair infused with one another in scent of glistening power. With each moment of silence the clan knew she was conspiring a better idea. Every war call, meant there was a forest filled with blood shed. The simple glance of her marmalade eyes, could defuse any fear inside a companion’s heart, but could cause any enemy a loss of color.

No one knew of her parents, nor how she came to be conceived. She was a wild horse in the pasture filled with snow ball sheep. Not a threat at first, but never mistake the power of a liberated spirt.

Neteyam was the fool in this game of hearts. He tried to soothe her into his arms with sweet praises of temptation. He tried to connivance her that they were meant to be. How he had known her his entire life. He read her in poems, pictured her in many songs, watched the flowers blossom and thought she might like them too. He was a fool, such a fool to fall for a girl without a future.

A sudden smack stung Neteyam’s cheek. His thoughts suddenly faded away with the wind, leaving his mind blank. A hand print darken his face as bubbling rage spread through him like a wildfire.

His cocky laugh irritated Neteyam with passion. Only an idiot would hit the son of Toruk Makto on the face, an idiot indeed. Auayew stood there proud and tall as he saw the masterpiece form on his opponent’s cheek. In no way was Neteyam considered a fighter, but at this very moment a new sense of thinking sported with in him. Maybe it was time to change that?

Before Neteyam could defend another blow, she came. Her soft hands pulled Auayew away from his body and soon they did ruins. Each punch caused another flood of tears to pursue down his bruised face. Drops of liquid metal began to pour out of his mouth. She didn’t care though - she never did.

He stood there and watched in awe. Even as her face stayed still like the sand, her eyes showed waves of fury crashing upon one another. Her hair flowed in the wind as the beads rattled in a warning.

Emerald stones embodied her skin with grace. Sparkling stars twinkled across her skin in series of aggravated kisses. Harsh strokes of red scattered across her body, blemishing and staining her like a tarnished painting. She was the definition art, she wasn’t the most beautiful women in the world, but she made you feel something real. And that - that is what truly mattered when loving her.

“I suggest you get out of here before I stop pulling my punches.” Her words caused him to shiver in awe. Her stance was so powerful, so surreal and inspiring. He watched as Auayew scurried away, holding his nose in pain. It brought a smile on Neteyam’s face to see him suffer a little.

“Are you okay?” His heart felt like it was about to erupt from his chest. The pain from his cheek was long forgotten, unlike thoughts of her.

“Oh yeah, it didn’t hurt me that much,” he tried shrugging off her intimidating gaze. It was enchanting to stare into her eyes from a far, but up close it made him feel nervous and insecure. Was he good enough for her?

“Are you sure?” She asked again with a softer gaze. A smile bloomed on her face as she heard him let out a nervous laugh.

“Yeah..I- I’m not much of a fighter.” He stumbled upon his words trying to find the right phase in describing his pervious actions. “I just don’t want to cause a scene.”

“I like that.” Her words had caused him to finally look up. She was even prettier in person. Her golden leaf diadem floated around her head like a halo of life. Strands of her hair wired around the air as they tried to escape with the leaves worryingly in the breeze.

“You do?” His wide eyes, maybe he didn’t need to change. Why would he need to change when she already liked him like that.

“Yeah, not everyone needs to be a fighter. We need more lovers to converse with.” True words fled her mouth, but he thought differently.

“I think fighters are lovers. They are just more passionate about their love.” His words clearly sparked something inside her because you could clearly see it radiate on her face.

Neteyam truly believed his heart couldn’t suppress the yearning to break free any longer, that was until she fell to the ground in laughter. Like an angel falling down from her throne of faith, she laid there open and free, allowing herself to enjoy the humor of it all. Her laugh was contagious causing him to go down laughing as well.

“Oh oh that’s absolutely brilliant, but unfortunately I’m not a lover..” She looked over at him in curiosity, his name was never given to her as a keepsake. He caught on this rather quickly and awkwardly.

“Neteyam, my name is Neteyam,” her eyes lit up in realization, and soon they filled with sadness. Quickly, she turned away to look back up at the trees. A soothing shade crept over their bodies and left them to enjoy the cool moss.

“My name’s Y/n.” He already new her sweet name backwards and forwards, but for that moment he pretended he didn’t.

“That’s a lovely name.” She didn’t respond back to his complement, instead she chose to bathe her self in the natural music of Pandora.

It wasn’t until the sun ripened that the she got up from her spot. She didn’t look back at him, but stayed staring at the new painted sky.

“Tomorrow, I am joining the warriors on a mission.” Neteyam’s heart sank with those words. Truly, she was not serious.

“What?” He felt like crying in despair. How? How could it be? Just when he got to enjoy the moonlight sinatra with her, she was going to leave to battle. Of course, this was not her first time battling in a war against the sky people, but this upcoming one was different. He had eavesdropped last night on the plans for tomorrow. It was going to be a gruesome fight, and the clan knew some would not make it.

“When I come back, maybe we could go enjoy the sunset and sunrise together.” There were no tears pricking from her eyes. She chose this title, and now she must live up to it. Unlike Neteyam, she had no parents to carefully guide her through right choices. Y/n was pushed into the world with no responsibility, so when the opportunity of fighting for her clan showed up. She took it.

He didn’t have time to respond, for she gathered her weapons and left. Neteyam didn’t sleep well that night, he was too busy wondering if she was dreaming about today.

The next day when the fellow participants gathered to leave, Neteyam stayed behind the crowd and watched. He saw her standing there. Her head held high and her posture tall. Not an ounce of fear reeked from her soul, yet a dreary cloud floated over her. He wanted to ask her why so blue? Hoping maybe it would make her laugh, but they already began to depart. He prayed Eywa would talk care of her.

When news of their return spread amongst the na’vi, he dropped his bow and arrow, quickly running towards the base to greet her. Frantic voices surrounded Neteyam’s ears as he watched swarms of medics wrap our them. It wasn’t until a set of marmalade eyes hit him that he figured out what happened.

And as the blood fell from her hands in exhausting amounts, Neteyam realized something. He realized there would never be a chance to capture her heart, for her heart would turn to stone from the amount of life lost. She would be buried the same year she shall prosper, not because of her ego, but it was in her nature. People like her weren’t meant to last long. They were too great to be tarnishing the lands with prosperity. Y/n would die young, and Neteyam would grow old carrying on the memory of his first romantic love. It was written it stars, it was being written right now.

#avatar #angst tag #neteyam #neteyam x you #pandora #major character death #na'vi avatar #neteyam sully #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x reader #jake sully #sully family

[taylorprintssussex]

Capturing the Essence of Lewes: The Red Blossom Tree

Nestled in the heart of East Sussex lies the picturesque town of Lewes, where history meets natural beauty at every turn. Amidst its charming streets and historic landmarks, there exists a hidden gem – a majestic red blossom tree that stands as a symbol of vitality and grace.

My journey to capture the essence of Lewes led me to this stunning tree, adorned with vibrant red blossoms that seemed to dance in the gentle breeze. With my camera in hand, I set out to immortalize the beauty of this natural wonder, knowing that it held the power to captivate hearts and inspire awe.

As I framed the shot, I was struck by the contrast between the rich crimson hues of the blossoms and the verdant backdrop of the surrounding landscape. The branches stretched out like arms, reaching towards the sky with an air of elegance and resilience.

Back in my studio, I turned to Photoshop to enhance the magic of the moment captured through my lens. With precision and care, I adjusted the colors to accentuate the vibrancy of the blossoms, ensuring that each petal glowed with an ethereal radiance.

But I didn't stop there. Inspired by the spirit of Lewes, I infused the image with a sense of nostalgia and warmth, giving it a timeless quality that spoke to the town's rich history and enduring charm. Using Photoshop's advanced tools, I added subtle textures and overlays to evoke the feeling of stepping into a cherished memory.

The final result was more than just a photograph – it was a work of art that encapsulated the essence of Lewes in all its splendor. With every brushstroke and adjustment layer, I breathed life into the image, transforming it into a masterpiece that would evoke emotion and spark imagination.

As I reflect on my journey to capture the red blossom tree of Lewes, I am reminded of the profound impact that nature can have on our lives. In its beauty and simplicity, it serves as a reminder of the wonder and magic that surrounds us, waiting to be discovered and cherished.

May this digital photograph serve as a testament to the timeless allure of Lewes and the power of art to capture the essence of a moment. Let it inspire you to seek out the beauty that lies within your own surroundings, and may it remind you of the boundless potential of the world around us.

#original art #disabled artist #digital art #photographer #my art #artists on tumblr #art #adobe photoshop #landscape #photographers on tumblr #sussex art #tree art #blossom #nature #trees

[downbad4fyodor]

Pairing: Ango x Fem!reader word count: 363 summary: You and Ango decided to decorate the mantel on the fireplace warnings: none Tag list: @getousrep

The fireplace exhaled warmth into the room, casting a golden glow that danced along the walls, a symphony of amber hues that cocooned the space in a tender embrace. You and Ango found yourselves on the precipice of a tranquil evening, the promise of Christmas beckoning with the eager anticipation of a shared ritual.

Ango, a pillar of unwavering support, disappeared into the storage room, reemerging with boxes that seemed to carry the very essence of Christmas past. The mantel, like a canvas yearning for the brushstrokes of holiday enchantment, awaited the alchemy of your collective creativity. The subtle hum of the heater, a harmony to the crackling fireplace, blended seamlessly with the ambient sounds of the season.

Boxes opened like treasure chests, revealing an array of ornaments that sparkled with the memories of yesteryear—miniature snow globes that whispered of winter's magic, delicate baubles that cradled the weight of shared traditions, and strands of tinsel that shimmered like strands of celestial stardust.

As you sifted through the glistening assortment, Ango's eyes became constellations of delight. "This one," he murmured, holding up a glass ornament adorned with intricate patterns, "has journeyed through generations in my family."

Together, you and Ango unfolded these treasures, each one a cherished artifact weaving a narrative of Christmases gone by. The air hummed with the excitement of possibilities as you gathered around the mantel, the heart of your home, ready to be adorned.

Ango's fingers moved with practiced grace, intertwining the strands of tinsel into a cascade that mimicked the gentle descent of snowflakes. Your hands cradled delicate baubles, each one a vessel holding the essence of Christmas. Ango's voice, a comforting baritone, wove through the air as he shared anecdotes of childhood Christmases, the ornaments serving as portals to those cherished moments.

In the collaborative spirit, you and Ango painted a vision for the mantel—a symphony of rich hues, red and green intermingled with touches of gold, an homage to timeless elegance. As you arranged the ornaments, Ango's hands moved in synchrony with yours, the mantel evolving into a tapestry of festive wonder.

A string of twinkling lights appeared in Ango's hands, their soft luminescence casting an ethereal glow upon the tableau. The room, bathed in the warm hues of the fireplace and the gentle twinkle of lights, metamorphosed into a haven steeped in holiday magic, a sanctuary where time seemed to pause.

In the midst of this decorating reverie, Ango unearthed a delicate nativity scene, an heirloom passed down through generations. Placing it amidst the festive display, a hushed reverence descended upon the room. The mantel, now adorned, held not only the promise of holiday revelry but also a sacred space where tradition and love intersected.

As the final ornament found its designated place, you and Ango stood back, surveying the mantel—a testament to shared creativity and the magic of togetherness. Ango's eyes, alight with pride, met yours, and a shared smile conveyed the unspoken joy of crafting a space infused with the spirit of Christmas.

Amid the glow of the decorated mantel, the room settled into a cocoon of tranquility. Your little 18-month-old boy, nestled in his slumber, remained undisturbed by the festive symphony that had unfolded around him. The occasional crackling of the fire and the muted exchange of words formed a lullaby, wrapping the room in a tender embrace.

Hand in hand, you and Ango sank into the couch, the mantel now a masterpiece that transcended mere decoration. The room, now a sanctuary of Yuletide charm, echoed with the subtle sounds of the season—the crackle of the fire, the distant jingle of bells, and the hushed whispers of shared joy.

The exchange of glances between you and Ango held stories of tradition, companionship, and the timeless enchantment of Christmas. And as the flames flickered, casting dancing shadows upon the mantel, your little one stirred, eyes fluttering open to the sight of the adorned room.

Gently cradling him in your arms, you and Ango formed a cozy cocoon around the infant. The room, now bathed in the soft radiance of the mantel, became a tableau of familial warmth. With a collective sigh, you reveled in the serenity of the moment, a quiet celebration of love, tradition, and the magic that only a carefully adorned mantel could conjure.

And so, nestled on the couch, the three of you became a living diorama—a family surrounded by the glow of a meticulously decorated mantel, the flickering flames, and the harmonious whispers of the season.

#bungou sd #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs manga #bsd anime #bsd x reader #bungo sd #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd spoilers #bungo stray dogs season 4 #25 days of christmas #ango sakaguchi #bsd ango #ango x reader

[tremendouscloudsofpiratesallover]

Castings

In the aftermath of the war, Katolis was slowly rebuilding. The scars of the conflict were still fresh, but there was a sense of hope in the air, a promise of a better future. And at the heart of this new era were the young heroes who had fought so bravely to bring peace to the lands.

Callum, in particular, had grown in ways he had never expected. The trials he had faced, the battles he had fought, had forged him into a different person. No longer was he the awkward, unsure prince he had once been. Now, he stood tall and confident, a true mage and a leader in his own right.

But with this newfound confidence came a realization. Callum had seen firsthand the dangers that lurked in the world, and he knew that he needed to be prepared for whatever challenges lay ahead. And so, he made a decision.

He would start wearing armor regularly, just like his Aunt Amaya did.

It was a practical choice, but also a symbolic one. By donning armor, Callum was declaring his readiness to defend his kingdom and his loved ones, no matter what threats might arise.

But he didn't want just any armor. He wanted something that reflected his unique identity, something that blended the traditions of Katolis with the teachings of his mentor, Ibis.

And so, Callum set to work. He spent long hours in the castle forges, sketches in hand, working with the blacksmiths to design and craft a suit of armor that was truly his own. The process was not easy, and there were many failed attempts and frustrating setbacks. But Callum was determined, and he poured his heart and soul into the project.

Finally, after weeks of hard work, it was ready.

The armor was a masterpiece. It was sleek and streamlined, designed for both protection and mobility. The breastplate was emblazoned with the symbol of Katolis, a nod to Callum's royal heritage. But the pauldrons and gauntlets were adorned with intricate patterns and etchings, reminiscent of the patterns on the armor that Ibis had worn.

The metal itself was a unique alloy, lighter than traditional steel but still incredibly strong. It had a faint bluish tint, like the sky on a clear day. And when the light hit it just right, it almost seemed to shimmer, as if infused with a touch of magic.

Callum couldn't wait to show it to Rayla.

He found her in the castle gardens, practicing her swordsmanship. She moved with the grace and precision of a dancer, her blades flashing in the sunlight. Callum watched her for a moment, a smile tugging at his lips. Even after all this time, she still took his breath away.

"Rayla," he called out, stepping into the garden.

She turned, and her eyes widened as she took in the sight of him. "Callum," she breathed. "You... you look..."

"Ridiculous?" he asked, suddenly self-conscious. "I knew it was too much, I shouldn't have—"

"No," Rayla interrupted, sheathing her swords and walking towards him. "You look amazing. Handsome, even."

Callum felt his cheeks warm at the compliment. "Really?"

Rayla nodded, reaching out to touch the breastplate. "This is incredible work, Callum. Did you design this yourself?"

"Yeah," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I wanted something that felt like... me." Something that honored both my human and elven heritages."

Rayla smiled, her fingers tracing the sky runes on his gauntlets. "Well, you certainly achieved that."

Callum beamed at the praise. "I'm glad you like it. I was hoping... I was hoping you'd approve."

Rayla looked up at him, her violet eyes soft. "Of course I approve. I'm proud of you, Callum. You've grown so much, in so many ways. This armor, it's a reflection of that."

Callum felt a lump form in his throat. "I couldn't have done it without you, Rayla. You've been by my side through everything, supporting me, believing in me. I... I don't know what I'd do without you."

Rayla stepped closer, her hand coming up to cup his cheek. "You'll never have to find out. I'm here, Callum. Always."

Callum leaned into her touch, his eyes fluttering closed. "I love you, Rayla."

"I love you too, my prince."

They stayed like that for a long moment, foreheads pressed together, just breathing each other in. It was a moment of perfect peace, a reminder of what they had fought for and what they had won.

Finally, Rayla pulled back, a mischievous glint in her eye. "So, does this mean you'll be joining me for morning training from now on?"

Callum laughed. "I suppose it does. I can't very well wear this armor and not put it to good use, can I?"

Rayla grinned. "No, you certainly can't. And I intend to make sure you get plenty of practice."

She drew her swords, falling into a ready stance. "Shall we begin?"

Callum smiled, unsheathing the Nova Blade. "Bring it on."

They sparred for hours, the clang of metal against metal ringing out across the gardens. Callum was rusty at first, unused to the weight and fit of the armor. But as they continued, he found his rhythm, his movements becoming more fluid and confident.

Rayla was a patient teacher, guiding him through the paces and offering encouragement when he faltered. And as the sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, they finally called it a day.

They walked back to the castle hand in hand, tired but content. Callum knew there would be more challenges ahead, more battles to fight and obstacles to overcome. But with Rayla by his side and his newfound strength, he felt ready for whatever the future might bring.

He was a prince, a mage, a warrior. But most importantly, he was Callum. And that was enough.

#tdp #rayllum #rayla #callum

[valentiwyo]

UNTIL I FOUND YOU | WOOSAN - CHAPTER 8 (🔞)

genre »» childhood friends to lovers

pairing »» choi san x jung wooyoung

context »» fluff, comfort, mature content, smut, making out, oral, oral abuse, orgasm, mention of alcohol (MINORS DNI)

"I came to you with my secret feelings and childhood. See, I'm grown and I'm still here, Wooyoung. I have never given up on you even though we fell out. I still love you as you are..."

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

SAN'S POV

"Damn, you reek of the awful stench of alcohol."

As I sensed my head graze the pillow's surface, I allowed my eyelids to part slightly. Wooyoung had managed to escort me home, dragging my stumbling form through the streets. My tipsiness had reached terrible peaks. Now, in this dimly illuminated space, he struggled to take off my coat. A sly smile crept across my face.

"We both do," I replied. My hand found its way to the nape of his neck. Raising my eyebrows, I motioned towards his lips. Even in this dimly lit room, Wooyoung's smile gleamed, perhaps for the millionth time, captivated me beyond the realm of myriad stars and millennia. As our faces aligned, with our breaths audible in the room's intimacy, in such closeness, just when our lips were about to meet, he stopped me, his hand covering my lips gently.

"Slow down, Romeo~ You're too drunk. Just sleep."

As he attempted to pull away, I caught his hand. "Why?" A smirk tugging at my lips. "Afraid I might do something?"

"Pfft, what could you possibly do? Why would I be afraid, huh? Your wit has reached an all-time low."

"That's what I'm talking about..."

My hands slid around his waist as I drew him towards me. With him using both hands for support on the edges of the bed, his long raven hair cascaded over his face. "I can show you my capabilities," I breathed, my voice like a whisper carried by the wind. Wooyoung rolled his eyes, his lips curving in a playful defiance before he eased back, a smile still lingering, and settled beside me. "Mmm, perhaps you'll have a chance to prove it one day," he murmured, nestling his face against my neck. His presence, as close as the brush of a gentle zephyr, threatened to dissolve my senses once again. I turned toward him, reaching out to place my hand on his cheek. His eyes were closed, as though he had willingly surrendered to the allure of the moment. With a soft smile gracing my lips, I indulged in the luxury of watching him, a masterpiece of serenity.

Describing Wooyoung is an enigma; It wasn't only his beauty that captivated me, though he was unquestionably the most beautiful human being I had ever encountered in my existence. But there was something else about him, an elusive quality that goes beyond the ordinary. He radiated the warmth of a pleasant summer evening. His eyes were speckled with tiny stars, evoking the serene sensation of gazing upon a night sky. Just looking at him infused me with a peaceful contentment as if I were nestled beneath a shade of stars. Wooyoung, even on the coldest winter day, possessed the ability to dissolve all shivers with the touch of his hand. Even from a distance, I could sense the potential of his warmth.

Thinking he was asleep, I was taken aback when his lips parted. "Sannie," his whisper brushed the air, just like my fingers brushing the strands of his hair, tracing delicate paths.

"You remember the rumors that swirled around me as we neared the end of high school? You know, the ones about me being queer..."

Though his sentence, devoid of eye contact, startled me, I concealed my astonishment. The topic he put forward was a relic of the past, a matter that had undeniably burdened him with its share of wounds.

"Back then, much like now, you were cherished by many," he continued. "We were always together, and due to the rumors surrounding you, I became the one people hesitated to meet eyes with. You understand what I mean?"

I softly nodded.

"I had thought that if I distanced myself from you, you'd be safer. I never wanted people to talk about you. That's why, even after we entered college, fearing that those rumors would continue to haunt me, I attempted to isolate you from my life completely," he took a breath, his voice low as he completed his sentence. He had likely pondered over these words for a considerable amount of time, finally opening up to share his inner feelings.

Meanwhile, a storm of emotions raged within me, my frustration directed inward like a smoldering fire. I was angry at myself for having failed to comprehend the situation and inadverently let Wooyoung withdraw. "Why did you keep all of this hidden within yourself for so long?" I whispered, turning my entire body towards him. My gaze continued to explore his face.

"Because I knew that if you learned all of this, you wouldn't care about what others thought and you wouldn't stop chasing me. But, as fate would have it, even without me telling you, you didn't stop."

As he uttered the final sentence, his gaze averted and a gentle smile graced his lips. This delicate acceptance caused a mutual smile to spread across my face, prompting me to draw closer to him. "But you seem to rather enjoyed this," I whispered. "I can't deny that I did."

I placed my hand on his cheek. As the effects of the alcohol began to wane, I leaned in and kissed his lips. My hand remained against his cheek, the connection unbroken for even a moment. "Let people think what they want, Wooyo. From this point on, you can't leave my side," our lips barely separated.

"Last night, I drew The World card, Sannie."

Furrowing my brows slightly, I pulled away from him and murmured, "What the hell's that?"

Wooyoung responded with a wide grin, wrapping his arms around my neck and sat up. His hand brushed through my hair, fingers curling the strands, while his gaze remained fixed on my lips. Unexpectedly, in an instant, he took his place upon my hips, a sudden warmth flooding my heart. "A card of love," he murmured. "You haven't heard?"

There he was, Jung Wooyoung, seated upon my hips, his gaze intently locked on mine. With a deliberate slowness, I shifted my gaze from his eyes to his hands, which gently trailed downward, tracing a path along my body. He was acutely aware of his actions, relishing in the joy they brought. He was smirking.

"I haven't."

With my hands finding their place on his waist, Wooyoung had tilted forward slightly. As I caught the hint of a chuckle, he inched closer to my face. His warm palms rested delicatelyon my sweater, his weight supported by my chest as he leaned in, while my hands that rested on his waist ventured down his hips.

"It signifies the closeness of reuniting with someone you've been apart from for a long time," he spoke in a low voice, for as he drew nearer, my eyes narrowed, taking in the intensity of his gaze and the firm grip of my hands on his waist, a position I knew pleased him. A mere few inches of space separated us, a distance that set my blood to boil with anticipation.

"Mmm, is that so?"

"It is."

"Well, you've chosen your card well," I murmured, and at last, my quivering lips met his. Our gentle kiss altered, igniting by the intrusion of Wooyoung's tongue, a surge of desire turning it into something far more passionate. Witnessing his impatience painted a tautness across my lips, an awareness that fueled the growing lust between us.

-🔞-

As our breath quickened, his exhalations melded seamlessly with mine. My hands traced a deliberate journey across the fabric that adorned his body, leaving trails of sensation in their path. With each tilt of his head, he urged himself closer, his enthusiasm undeniable. His insistence caused my hands to slide to his thighs, and the way he pressed himself against me sent shivers of awareness racing down my spine.

"You weren't this naughty before," I whispered between our kiss. Wooyoung threw his head backward, allowing my lips to trail along his jawline.

"I suppose you haven't truly known me yet," he grinned. My teeth grazed a spot on his neck, leaving a tiny red mark as a signature, eliciting a soft, hushed moan from Wooyoung. He ground back and forth gently in my lap, my lips finding their way down his collarbones. His fingers were tangled in my hair, while mine traced slow circles along the hem of his sweater. When I couldn't reach his collarbones due to the fabric, I pulled back. In that moment, as Wooyoung gazed at me that way, I felt myself losing all sense of reason.

"Are you not going to take it off?" He whispered, pointing his sweater. Once again, that familiar expression gaced his face. He was smiling, yet the curve of his lips held a mischievous edge, as if the moonlight filtering through the window had caught onto his eyes, reflecting within them like a missing puzzle piece finally finding its home.

Drawing in a deep breath, I grabbed him by the waist and guided him down onto the bed. Now, the roles had shifted, and I found myself atop him. Wooyoung's hands came to rest on either side of his head, his gaze a mixture of defiance and surrender as he gazed at me with a bold glint in his eye.

As Wooyoung's eyes darted away from their path across my chest, I couldn't help but chuckle, leaning in closer. The sight of his diverted gaze, an evidence to how deeply I affected him, brought a satisfaction all its own. With a swift movement, I relieved him of his sweater, my gaze trailing down to his chest.

"You've been by my side for a decade, yet with every passing minute, I unearth a new facet of you."

Then, I reached for Wooyoung's collarbones that had eluded me earlier, and as my lips met there, his hands once again found their place in my hair. With each kiss I pressed onto the marked areas, a low moan escaped him, his head seeking hideout in the softness of the pillow beneath.

"Damn it, Sannie.. How the fuck do you know all of this?" He groaned. Smirking, I lifted my head. "No one's as innocent as they seem."

Rising onto my knees, my hands found their way to my belt. "With whom you did it?" he suddenly asked. "Were they all one-night stands?"

His questions caught me off guard, as his curiosity delved far deeper into my sexual background than I anticipated. "Why do you ask?" I countered, raising an eyebrow. As I began to unfasten my belt and slowly slide it from the loops, Wooyoung's hands moved to grip mine. "Because," he whispered, guiding my hands with his, leading them down to his abdomen, then teasingly brushing them across his chest. "The idea of these hands having touched someone else drives me to the brink of madness.."

As my hands enclosed around his chest, he bit his lip and threw his head backwards. It was as if I was encountering a version of Wooyoung that I hadn't known for the past ten years. He exuded an innocence, yet that innocence was tinged with a readiness to taint it with me.

"And you," I murmured, pressing my fingers against his nipples, eliciting a soft gasp from him. "Do you know what I wanna do to you with these hands?"

A mischievous smile danced across his lips, and he shook his head slightly. Pulling back, just a bit, he rose to his knees, his posture straightening as he teasingly tugged at the belt of my pants. His hands glided with a deliberate slowness to the button. With a sense of urgency, his hands swiftly slided my pants down, urging me to lie back as he positioned himself between my legs, a satisfied grin playing on his lips.

"However innocent you may think I am, you have no idea how eager I am to be tainted right now, Choi San."

His warm palms slowly revealed my manhood, and the vibration I felt there rippled through my chest, my heart pounding wildly with arousal. Each tender touch he bestowed upon me was like a thread weaving through the web of my emotions, creating a tapestry of sensations that left me reeling. Lost in the middle of this moment, it was as if I had surrendered a part of myself, only to find it mirrored within him.

Until now, I had always been the dominant one, but for the first time, I found myself falling weak before him, as if I had been caught completely off guard. How could I have known that arousing me would be a piece of cake for him?

I felt his warm hand on top of mine. "I can't believe you're blushing. Allow me to look, I never want to forget this sight." he murmured in a teasing tone. He pulled my hands away and looked at my face. I rested my head against the headboard, meeting his gaze. I didn't know why, but Wooyoung's eyes were the most erotic thing about him. Then suddenly, without warning, he took me into his hand. I bit my lower lip to suppress the moan as he placed his hands on my inner thighs.

He ran his tongue up and down the entire length. His fingernails dug into my thighs as he sucked harshly on the tip. My body shuddered under the immense pleasure, heels digging into the bedsheets to keep myself grounded. Wooyoung took me deeper into his mouth, trying to draw a moan out from my lips. He was trying to unravel me, but I remained silent.

Wooyoung ran his tongue over the heated skin, drool slipping past his lips and down my throbbing member. I twitched in his mouth as he took me deeper, stopping before I hit the back of his throat. A quiet moan escaped from him. I extended my hand to his face and touched his cheek. He turned his head to the side, showing me how my dick deformed his cheeks. My thumb rubbed over his tiny mole gently, silently appreciating the way he takes care of me.

He pulled back, until the tip remained in his mouth, lightly sucking on it once more. He looked into my eyes with a smug smirk, running his tongue around the tip.

"Damn it, quit teasing," I hissed, my deep voice ringing throughout the room.

"Whatever." Wooyoung took me slightly deeper in his mouth, stilling to see what I would do. I snapped. My hips buckled into his mouth, cock driving deeper into his throat as he gripped my thighs. His nails dug into the soft flesh as he gagged around my dick, sending vibrations up it.

My grunts filled the room as I felt I came closer and closer to my orgasm. Wooyoung's eyes watered as I abused his mouth, gagging every time the tip of my dick collided with the back of his throat. He flattened his tongue against the underside of my member, relishing in the way it twitched.

"I'm fucking close," I attempted to pull out, yet Wooyoung wrapped his arms around my hips, forcing me to release into his mouth. I leaned back in the headboard, watching him swallow every drop. My hand ran through his hair lazily as I came down from my high. "Was that too much?" I panted.

Wooyoung shook his head. "Nothing I couldn't handle." He shot me a smile, lying his body on me. Gently brushing his hair with my fingers in a soothing way, I can hear him curse softly under his breath. Wrapping his arms around my waist and burying his face on my chest, Wooyoung whispered huskily, "Love you.."

I smiled gently, leaning my head forward, and kissed his head. "Love you too."

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #ateez smut #ateez san #ateez wooyoung #jung wooyoung #choi san #woosan #woosan au #woosan smut #childhood friends to lovers

[muiitoloko]

Fantasy Frames

Summary: In the whimsical blend of reality and fantasy, Harry Deane, a daydreaming art schemer, envisions a suave romance with the elegant secretary amidst comical mishaps.

Warning: none

Pairing: Harry Deane (Gambit 2012) × fem!Reader

Word count: 901

Author's Notes: I honestly don't know why I wrote this, but I wanted to write something for this Harry. Note: not reviewed.

In Shahbandar's waiting room, Harry Deane, mastermind of the elaborate art scheme, couldn't help but steal glances at you, the elegant secretary of the notorious Lionel Shahbandar. As he studied your features that seemed to be made by a pencil, his imagination painted a different canvas – one where he was a confident heartthrob.

With a suave smirk, Harry approached you, his words dripping with charm. "Mon chère, you're the masterpiece that's been missing from my life," he purred, imagining a world where he was the debonair protagonist of his own romantic tale.

In his vivid daydreams, Harry whisked you away to glamorous art exhibitions, where the two of you effortlessly discussed the nuances of brushstrokes and the poetry behind each piece. His clumsy reality faded as he wove a story of stolen glances evolving into passionate embraces amidst the timeless artwork.

As the fantasy unfolded, Harry transformed into a charismatic figure, effortlessly captivating you with tales of daring art heists and romantic rendezvous in the hidden corners of the Louvre. In this alternate reality, he was the James Bond of the art world, and you were his willing accomplice.

The fantasy continued to play out, each scenario more enchanting than the last. Harry's ordinary world blurred with his imagination, and for a fleeting moment, he truly believed he was the suave leading man in an art-infused love story, with you by his side, the leading lady in his painted dreams.

"Oh, Harry!" you chimed, breaking him out of his reverie for what felt like the umpteenth time. His daydreams shattered, Harry looked at you, fumbling as he grew nervous. He stood up in a hurry, trying to regain composure.

"Mr. Shahbandar is ready to see you," you announced with a playful smile. Harry almost tripped over his own feet, embarrassed as he approached your desk. You couldn't help but hide a laugh behind your hand, and he felt a pang of humiliation.

"Sorry," he muttered quietly, hurrying towards the office of Shahbandar, the despised boss. As he entered, Shahbandar looked up, uninterested.

"Well, Deane, what brilliant scheme have you concocted now?" he sneered. Harry, still flustered from his fantasies, stammered, "I-I've got some new ideas for the upcoming exhibit, sir."

Shahbandar raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Make it quick. I have more important matters to attend to." Harry, once the suave protagonist in his dreams, now felt small under Shahbandar's disdainful gaze. Yet, as he spoke, there was a glimmer of determination in his eyes, fueled by the remnants of his painted fantasies.

Minutes later, Harry emerged from Shahbandar's office, a mix of determination and residual fantasy shimmering in his eyes. As he caught sight of you, the elegant secretary at the reception desk, his heart raced with a newfound confidence, spurred by the lingering echoes of his imagined charm.

Attempting to exude suavity, Harry strolled toward you, envisioning a seamless approach. Yet, reality had other plans. In a twist of fate, he found himself tangled in his own footsteps, clumsily collapsing to the floor like a comical mishap in a romantic comedy.

With an embarrassed grimace, Harry tried to salvage the situation, only to be met with your concerned gaze. As you rushed to his aid, he felt a cocktail of mortification and shame, accentuated by the realization that his grand entrance had turned into a less-than-graceful tumble.

You kindly retrieved his fallen glasses, crouching down to place them on his face with a gentle touch. Blinking in surprise, Harry saw you come into focus, your worried expression softening as you inquired if he was alright.

Managing a sheepish nod, Harry couldn't escape the warmth that spread through him as you flashed a reassuring smile. Your fingers tenderly fixed his disheveled hair, and in a surprising twist, you uttered the words that sent his heart aflutter: "You're cute, Harry."

Blushing furiously, Harry stammered, "Uh, thanks... I mean, you're not so bad yourself." His words stumbled out in a mix of embarrassment and a feeble attempt at reciprocating the compliment.

Before he could regain his composure, the office door swung open, revealing the imposing figure of Lionel Shahbandar. "What's all this commotion?" Shahbandar barked, his stern gaze fixed on the disheveled scene before him.

Quickly standing up and clutching his papers, Harry tried to salvage the situation. "It's nothing, sir. Just a little mishap," he mumbled, avoiding eye contact with his boss.

Shahbandar scowled, barking at Harry to stop bothering his secretary and get back to work if he didn't want to get fired. Nodding hastily, Harry retreated with a mumbled confirmation, holding his papers close to his chest. The office door closed with a resounding thud.

Feeling a mix of frustration and resentment towards his boss, Harry sighed. However, your touch on his arm brought him back to the present. He met your gaze, finding a comforting reassurance in your eyes.

You handed him one of his fallen papers, and as he took it, you reached out to fix his crooked glasses, your smile brightening the room. "Be careful next time, Harry," you teased, and he couldn't help but smile back.

Watching you walk back to the reception desk, Harry couldn't shake off the warmth that lingered. Despite the awkward encounter and Shahbandar's harsh reprimand, there was a spark of newfound confidence flickering within him. Maybe, just maybe, the painted dreams weren't so far-fetched after all.

#harry deane #lionel shabandar #gambit #gambit 2012 #alan rickman #colin firth #colin firth x reader #harry deane x reader #harry hart

[priyabaralnp]

Discover Tranquility: Fiber Buddha Statues at The Stone Studio

Step into a realm of serenity with our captivating collection of Fiber Buddha statue, exclusively available at The Stone Studio. These masterpieces emanate an atmosphere of tranquility and enlightenment. Delve into our exquisite selection of Vinayagar statues to infuse your space with spiritual harmony. Encounter the profound presence of Buddha's wisdom and grace.

#Fiber Buddha statue

[8turtlesm8]

Unveil the captivating allure of the "Mystic Moonshadow" Epoxy Resin Ashtray, a truly unique masterpiece that transcends ordinary smoking accessories. Measuring a generous 18cm in diameter, this extraordinary ashtray casts a spell of intrigue with its obsidian black canvas, inviting you to explore the depths of its mysterious charm.

Each "Mystic Moonshadow" ashtray is a testament to artisanal craftsmanship, painstakingly adorned with verdant green leaves that seem to whisper secrets from the heart of nature. At its center, a lunar symbol imbues it with an aura of otherworldly mystique, capturing the essence of moonlit enchantment.

Whether it graces your tabletop, becomes a part of your smoking ritual, or serves as an exquisite decor piece, the "Mystic Moonshadow" ashtray is a manifestation of both beauty and functionality. Its unique design transcends conventional aesthetics, making it a conversation starter and a collector's item for those who appreciate the finer things in life.

Elevate your smoking experience and infuse your space with a touch of witchy inspiration by welcoming the "Mystic Moonshadow" Epoxy Resin Ashtray into your life. Let its bewitching charm and captivating presence cast a spell of elegance and enchantment that lingers in your surroundings. Discover the magic of the "Mystic Moonshadow" today.

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#etsyseller #smoke #art #ashtray #moon #atists on tumblr #epoxy #resin #resin art #creative process #mystical #love #fyp #etsy #etsyshop #halloween #autumn #fall

[penportrayal]

Step into a world where swirling skies waltz with twinkling stars, a world birthed from the passionate brushstrokes of Vincent van Gogh. Tonight, we delve into the mesmerizing beauty of his iconic masterpiece, "The Starry Night," a canvas that whispers secrets of dreams and emotions.

Imagine a cobalt tapestry stretched across the heavens, embroidered with stars that don't merely twinkle, they pulsate. Each one, a celestial pearl radiating its own fiery essence, a chorus of light against the inky void. Look closer, and you'll see them swirling, dancing a cosmic ballet to a silent symphony, their reflections shimmering on the sapphire waves below.

The village, nestled at the foot of the canvas, sleeps soundly under this celestial spectacle. Tiny houses huddle together, their warm windows like fireflies against the cool night. A church spire, a silent sentinel, pierces the sky, its silhouette echoing the graceful curve of the crescent moon, a celestial smile gracing the heavens.

But wait, the magic doesn't end there. Van Gogh, the master of emotions, infuses the scene with a captivating energy. The cypress tree on the left stands tall, a dark silhouette reaching for the stars, mirroring the yearning of the human spirit. The brushstrokes themselves, thick and textured, seem to vibrate with life, each one a testament to the artist's inner turmoil and passion.

As you gaze upon this masterpiece, don't just see stars and a village. Feel the cool night air brush against your skin, hear the whisper of the wind through the cypress, and let your imagination soar with the celestial dance above. This is not just a painting; it's an invitation to step into a world beyond the ordinary, a world where dreams shimmer and emotions dance on a canvas of swirling stars. Let it remind you that beauty can be found in the most unexpected places, in the dance of light and shadow, in the swirling brushstrokes of a passionate artist. After all, the universe is not just a collection of stars; it's a symphony of emotions waiting to be unveiled, and sometimes, all it takes is a little bit of imagination and a touch of Van Gogh's magic.

#penportrayal #optimism #artists on tumblr #van gogh #vincent van gogh #painting #blue #starry night #beauty #artwork #art #old art #illustration #colourful #painter

[serene-voyage]

Ladylove

In the dazzling spotlight of both runways and film sets, she emerges as an embodiment of elegance, a shining figure whose grace effortlessly bridges the gap between modeling and acting. Whether strutting down the catwalk or gracing the screen, she transforms each moment into an artful expression of refined poise. Cloaked in the allure of dreamlike couture, she epitomizes sophistication, captivating onlookers with every celestial ballet on the runway.

Her journey seamlessly expands onto the cinematic canvas, where she metamorphoses into a goddess of the silver screen. Under the camera's gaze, she becomes a living portrait, each frame capturing the profound depth of her emotive prowess and the timeless charm that defines her elegance. As an actress, she injects vitality into characters, infusing them with a nuanced brilliance that mirrors the intricacies of her own captivating persona.

Navigating the realms of both modeling and acting, she stands as a living canvas—a goddess whose elegance paints a masterpiece on both the catwalk and the screen. Her presence transcends the confines of a single spotlight, illuminating the crossroads of two artistic worlds. In the realms of glamour and storytelling, she serves as a muse, her journey unfolding like a harmonious symphony—a divine embodiment of elegance, gracing the worlds of fashion and film with an enduring allure.