#having to build your own garden that no one will ever visit is just a lonely experience. sure I like what I'm making

[punkpandapatrixk]

☕️Soul Story with Your Divine Counterpart ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

A long, long, long time ago, in the harmonic realms of Pure Bliss, there was nothing but Dharma. Bored as whoa from a lack of strife, our Souls began to yearn for Drama. In the theatre of the Universe, Game Masters joined forces to create the most hyper-realistic Game of Polarity—of opposites and contrasts. We were told, we would understand Unity better if we could master Duality.

Divine Pairs were invited for the launch of the Game as the unbreakable bond between them was deemed the most powerful, enough to withstand the chaotic nature of Duality and Polarity. In time, we all jumped into the Game expecting all kinds of immersive experiences of playing knaves and heroes, destroyers and builders, enemies and lovers, et cetera, et cetera.

In the beginning, we played amongst many of our own Kind but eventually met those from other harmonics who had later been invited to the Game, too. In a world of illusions… we were dreaming all kinds of events and adventures with our cosmic avatars, and in time, all kinds of storylines intertwined to weave an even bigger cosmic narrative.

We all played for so long we were beginning to forget our true form. Many of us could no longer recognise each other’s Divine Counterparts. A multitude of shape-shifting had caused a distortion in reconnecting to our Original Memory. The game world had now become a second Reality.

🎧Alone Again, Wonderful World by Plastic Tree

🎧I Love You by Off Course

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 3]

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There is a super special behind-the-story for this PAC on Patreon. If you’re already subscribed, don’t forget to check the full post ^o^v

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Pile 1 – Finally, Happily Ever After with You♥︎

MOVIE: Howl’s Moving Castle (2004)

your Home World – Page of Swords

I have a feeling your Home World (at least one of them that is significant in your current stage of soul evolution) was a relatively new world. You’ve come from a civilisation that prized intellectual pursuits more than anything. Your Kind loved to study; you enjoyed improving your environment and society. Researching plants—understanding them and making chemicals and potions with them—was a pastime of your people. You were working to understand your Planet.

Your Home World had many large, expansive libraries of all the things your people had come to learn. Many people loved to visit the library and read and just have fun studying. You were such big-brained folks. There was no school like we know on Earth. There were academies and laboratories for children to partake in research and new inventions. The weather on your Home World was always pleasantly sunny and you could see buildings that are similar to hot houses on Earth. There were gardens and open fields, of course. Vegs and herbs were your main interest and food was aplenty.

People had roles in society but nobody had any semblance of a concept of what we call ‘jobs’ on Earth. People didn’t work for money. People lived with the joy of knowing that they were alive and that the Planet had provided for them. Your people loved the Planet so much—you appreciated and cherished this new world you were beginning to understand. But… this also meant you didn’t have any concept of conflict, power struggle, and war… You didn’t have a military—never crossed your mind the necessity for such a thing.

And so, when warmongering space invaders attacked your Home World you couldn’t protect yourself.

a promise before birth – 4 of Swords Rx

From the moment the space invaders arrived, it was clear that there was no way your civilisation could stand a chance against the enemy’s warships. The imbalance of military power was too overbearing. You didn’t even have an army, not even a fighter. All you could do was try your best to evacuate your people and escape the Planet. Homes and gardens were destroyed and families were torn apart. Friends and lovers calling out names of lost loved ones. Sisters and mothers shielding children and escaping. Brothers and fathers staying behind to buy time.

This horror was etched in your Soul Memory for a long time. Your heartbreak became a default setting when you chose to be born on Earth. As if, you’d forgotten how it feels like to have peace. But you craved it from the deepest unseen well of your subconscious, and at one point in your soul evolution, you prayed to Infinite Intelligence. You prayed that you could be saved from the looping horror of being trapped in the same scenario of sorrows. You had come to resent the Game.

‘Please, salvage my heart from betrayals, isolation and loneliness.’ Infinite Intelligence heard your plea and whispered: ‘If you could remember your Divine Counterpart, they will remember you, too, and you will be calling out for one another. If you could remember your true form, you will remember what your Divine Counterpart feels (looks) like. And all will be fine in all of the worlds again when you meet.’ And you fell back into slumber to find yourself awake on Earth.

finding each other – 5 of Swords Rx

Earth is a world that is just as war-torn as your Home World, if not a lot worse out here. Being born into a world so reminiscent of all your traumas, navigating Life here has not been easy. As if Infinite Intelligence had played a cruel joke on you. But the truth is, Earth is the perfect place for you right now because by being here you resolve your traumas a lot faster than if you had been born somewhere comparatively better. You are in the midst of recovering from bad dreams of lives lost in wars.

Did it cross your mind that your Divine Counterpart has also been doing the same? You’re not alone. You’re working really hard to purify yourself from all of these bad dreams, bad memories, all so you wouldn’t mistakenly destroy each other when you meet. Infinite Intelligence had arranged for you to face your traumas head on so you wouldn’t have to show your ugly healing to each other. That scenario isn’t for you. Isn’t it so graceful?

Although it’s hard to face your challenges feeling like you’re all alone in the wild wide world, trust me, it’s better to have those quarrels and separations with people who mean little. I can hear a soft voice from the aether saying: ‘You’re… the only reason I’m still breathing… We will meet. When I’m good, I can make everything in your world good!’ So confident. So loving, indeed.

TURNING THE PAGES🔻💜

story behind your Union – Gold Physician (Hippocrates)

the rest of your days – Priestess of Ambition

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Pile 2 – True Calm That Comes Only After the Storms

MOVIE: Grave of the Fireflies & My Neighbor Totoro (both 1988)

your Home World – 8 of Cups

Quite similar to Pile 1, you still carry deep sadness and heavy regrets in your heart that are, truthfully, only remnants of memories from your Home World. Your Home World was quite advanced technologically. Your civilisation depended on the Masculine energy—Yang energy. Societies were run on varying degrees of strictness but the modus operandi was clear: the masculine form and structural ways of running things were favoured.

Obviously, not everybody was happy about that though for a long time, peace was maintained. However, influences from visitors and ambassadors from other civilisations (by comparison they were freer; more fluid) eventually seeped into the consciousness of the main populace, and in time, underground rebellion groups were formed. These alliances were made amongst multiple races of beings that felt they weren’t accepted (or respected enough) by the main races.

Friction began to tear apart the establishment and government officials tried their utmost to crack down dissents. Many went to prison or got killed in the numerous conflicts that were becoming a plague in your Home World. In a last attempt to preserve the codes of freedom, many elders told their young warriors to flee and find refuge in other Worlds that were, hopefully, more balanced in their operation of Yin and Yang.

a promise before birth – 3 of Cups

You left your Home World carrying a promise to come back and make everything better after you’ve learnt enough about the ways of other Worlds. Tears were inevitable but the determination in your heart was solid. You were a new legion of Ambassadors from your own Home World. You didn’t really want to think of yourselves as refugees, after all, many of your Soul Family members were still living alright in your Home World though things were just… a little too unpleasantly unjust.

When you departed your Home World, you created a mirror image of yourself to accompany you across the Multiverse—a divinely ordained Counterpart. This was possible by the grace of the Infinite Intelligence, of course. In the beginning, you went to the same places and learnt similar things. Over time, your understanding of each other’s capabilities became clearer and, with confidence, you decided you would travel separately from now on.

You had this unbreakable bond and an immense capacity for telepathy, so you weren’t the slightest bit worried about losing contact with your Counterpart. You believed that it would be just as easy to call upon each other and reunite as you deemed fit. Alas, your travels brought you to Earth, finally, and things over here were just… slightly over-the-top chaotic for even you to handle. The level of evil on this new World was… NEXT LEVEL.

finding each other – 7 of Pentacles Rx

Crash landing on Earth! Coming here felt like a major accident. Your whole world upside down. The reason being something related to betrayal trauma. To find a World that’s even more polarised than your own; to see a World that operates on the highest level of toxic masculinity; to be in a World this corrupted by its own leaders; needless to say the whole being born thing was traumatising.

The shocks of being born on Earth made it difficult to reconnect with the essence of who you are on a Soul level. Thus you forgot how to contact your Divine Counterpart. You’ve felt like you have so little guidance living Life on Earth. But deep in your psyche, you’ve always known you’re here for something greater than the mundane. You know you don’t belong to this Earth. You’re here on a mission. You want to build something with someone… Someone dear, but you can’t remember.

Can you believe that you and your Divine Counterpart are meant to inspire the dissolution of anger? Yes, this World so deep in the clutches of aggression. You are special Souls who have been ordained to meet on Earth when the time is right to help inspire peace—after all, it is what you seek and Infinite Intelligence is arranging every couple’s rendezvous in the most magnificently mysterious ways. I think your finding each other is just gonna happen naturally by virtue of matching vibrations. So~ Keep focusing on your Life’s mission and just like that~ BOOM! There they are.

TURNING THE PAGES🔻💚

story behind your Union – Green Historian (Herodotus)

the rest of your days – Priestess of Inspiration

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Pile 3 – ‘Kiss You Better; I’m Your Only Other’

MOVIE: Princess Mononoke (1997)

your Home World – 6 of Wands

The Home World that’s currently significant in your soul evolution was a world of glory and magnificence. Your Home World looked nothing like what we know of abundance and celebration on Earth; it was such a rich and happy World. It emanated so much pink, gold, blue, turquoise and soft violet. Back in your Home World, people didn’t even look… humanoid, per se. Your Home World was… fluid. It was a different type of consciousness. Life itself was fluid. Existence was simply flowing with the sweet symphony of the Cosmos.

Your Home World operated on the basis of Love. People were very kind and jolly most of the time. Your people didn’t really understand this whole concept of non-Love. Suffering and terror… what the heck are those? Manipulation and lies… for what? Taking advantage of someone else, murder and theft… but… why? All of those concepts were so foreign yet so fascinating to your people.

When you heard that Earth needed some high-vibe volunteers to ‘raise her vibrations’, actually, not that many people from your Home World were interested LMAO The risks of being separated and forgetting Love sounded not worth a good dime. Your World was so peaceful, loving and fulfilling. But the call from Earth felt a little too urgent! So… Some curious and courageous Souls finally decided to take a test drive. Just a preview. It couldn’t be that bad, you thought.

a promise before birth – King of Wands

With gleeful optimism, you promised people back Home that you would be back with grand stories! Off you and your Soul Mates went to a big academy (on another World) to study and prepare for a reincarnation on Earth. Yup, unlike the other Piles in which they couldn’t help but arrive on Earth, you chose to come here out of genuine curiosity. You were expecting dramatic fun!

You and your Divine Counterpart were giggling with anticipation as you prepared yourselves to dive into the Earth Matrix. You and your Divine Counterpart are powerful Souls; you were confident this Game would be between easy to medium difficulty, although you had been told Earth Game’s level of easy is the equivalent of extra hard anywhere else! Your optimism deafened you to that piece of information🤷🏻‍♀️

You kissed your Divine Counterpart and said, ‘I love you. Let’s find each other quickly in this Game. Let’s have fun and then go back to tell everyone what we’ve seen! It’ll be great!’ Your Divine Counterpart nodded in agreement and waved to all members of your Soul Family and they did the same. With great determination to serve your collective consciousness back Home, you dove into the illusions of Life on Earth🌎

finding each other – 5 of Pentacles

Arriving here, from the moment you were born as a child the world was already chaos. The reality of Earth was too shocking to bear alone. Who would’ve thought the density of Earth would cause you this much pain? Physically, emotionally, psychologically, spiritually, everythingally. You thought, ‘Damn, my training at the academy told me nothing, NOTHING, of this!’ Literally you didn’t expect Earth’s negative polarisation would be THIS fucked up.

For you’ve come from a world of nothing but Love, Life on Earth was soul-shattering to say the least. Many moments you’ve thought it impossible to go back to the frequencies of Love and you became dejected as fuck. But you’ve only forgotten that YOU are Love. You carry the memories of all your collective consciousness that supports your coming here. As long as you tap into this Love deep within yourself, so shall you be reconnected to the essence of who you are on a profound Soul level. There, as well, you will feel the heartbeat of your Divine Counterpart.

For you’ve come from Love, it’s as if your Divine Counterpart had left a piece of their Heart in yours so you never feel alone. You are both a complete whole carrying a piece of each other’s essence everywhere you go—a perfect personification of the Yin-Yang symbolism. You are literally inseparable and have never truly been separated. A piece of your Heart in theirs is always reminding them of their ultimate goal in this incarnation: to find each other, weave stories together, and infuse a piece of yourselves into the collective conscious of Mankind as a token of gratitude—for all the experiences.

TURNING THE PAGES🔻💛

story behind your Union – Red Astronomer (Johannes Kepler)

the rest of your days – Priestess of Illumination

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 3]

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#Punk Panda Pick A Pic #pick a card #tarot pick a card #pick a card reading #pac #tarot pac #pac reading #future spouse #tarot future spouse #astroblr #tarotblr #writblr #witchblr #witchythings #soulmate #divine counterpart #desired reality #lightworker #starseed #girlblogger #girlblogging

[notinusesworld]

“A somber reunion” Crowley x Angel!Reader

a/n: i haven’t actually wrote something this long before so i hope it’s coherent, i am open to constructive criticism though ^^ this is probs one of my favourite things i’ve wrote so far

synopsis: g!n reader, when crowley was an angel, you two was inseparable. you was the angel given the task of creating all the plants on earth. however, after crowley fell, you was forbidden from seeing him. one day, you was given the chance to spend some time on earth, where you found your long lost love

warnings: mentions of him fallen. kinda sad but not written in an upsetting way, fluffy

words: 1.7k 😧

requests are open and encouraged

At the beginning of time, Crowley had the kind of awe and wonder a child would have. You all did. Because, really, the angels were just children. God had only recently brought them into the universe, an empty and cold world, with only one job: to build the world she wants to fulfil her plan. Crowley was left with one of the most incredible jobs of them all: creating the stars that creatures on the soon-to-be-made Earth will gaze upon.

You were also a wide-eyed angel; you created a lot of the plants that populated the Earth. From corals to trees, you had a heavy influence on all of them, and Crowley had an intense interest in you because of it, which led him to develop a deep love for plants. You were even the one that created the beautiful garden of Eden, and so eventually the very apples that would later cause humanity to sin. Crowley thought it was silly to even have a test that could doom humans; you hadn’t thought of it that way until he mentioned it in passing one day.

Mean high school girls didn’t exist yet, but if they did, that would definitely be how you described some of the other angels—they didn’t like Crowley. You never quite understood why; he was very kind and a lot of fun to be with. You believed it was just because he was different; he wasn’t as snobbish as the others.

You both liked to hang around each other a lot. When marriage was invented and Crowley heard of it, he absolutely adored it and wanted to ask you to do it. Until he learned that angels weren’t allowed to, he wasn’t very happy with that fact. But when hugs and cuddles were invented, you spent a lot of time sitting among the stars doing so. After he made the other planets, he liked to take you to your favourite one to gaze upon its beauty together.

Slowly, though, you watched him be shunned by heaven, they didn’t appreciate how often he questioned the divine plan. He started to resent God for how little she seemed to care for her own creations. You tried to guide him, of course, but a lot of the time that just caused you to get in trouble. You watched as he became friends with the soon-to-be fallen and just kind of went along with his friends during Lucifer's rebellion. They all became damned to hell.

You were devastated, of course. You were forbidden to go down to Earth and see him; visiting Hell was unheard of. He was the only one that really seemed to understand you in heaven, and you were frustrated at the system that caused what happened to happen. In your eyes, he was never as vile or as dangerous as the other demons; he was just curious and the smartest person you’ve ever met. You would never say that, of course, in fear of being dammed the same way he was.

You only hear of him occasionally; there are rumours of him being the one who temped Eve and how he’ll eventually be the one to influence the Anti-Christ. You’re not sure what to make of it. On the one hand, after you figured out what love was, you realised that’s what you felt for him, and you couldn’t imagine him doing such terrible things. However, you also realised that he was just doing his job as much as you were; you were the one that created the apple after all. If you didn't, someone else would; he probably thinks the same.

Crowley still thinks of you fairly often. Even though it’s been a thousand years, his feelings for you never went away. But the more time passed, the easier it was for him to deal with the fact that he would probably never see you again. The admiration for plants you fostered in him is still as strong as ever; he spends a lot of time caring for his own. At a certain point, he completely accepted that you may never meet again, but he still loved you as much as he did while humans weren’t even wandering on the Earth yet. The demon is conflicted about these feelings, though; on the one hand, he hates that you’re still a part of a system that screws people over. But on the other hand, he knew how pure your heart was and that the other demons would eat you alive if you fell like him. He thinks being separated from you was one of the worst punishments he faced, and also the fear that you now hate him for being a demon.

 

It’s now the 20th century, specifically the roaring 60s. You’ve been getting fed up with all your beautiful trees being destroyed and have requested to go down to Earth to try and guide humanity into making better decisions on how they’re treating the world. You spent a lot of time building the rainforest. You knew not many humans would take refuge within them, and so you created a massive diversity of plants and trees, all working together in harmony, being sure to make it the perfect home for hundreds of species for fellow angels to populate the world with. It broke your heart to see it being treated with such cruelty.

To your surprise, your request was accepted, and you were able to travel down to Earth, only needing to report back once a week. You haven’t been to Earth in a long time, the last time being during the great flood to ensure all the plants made it through safely. Earth is very different from what it was back then. You decided to land in London to start. Being one of the biggest cities in the world, you thought it was a good start to find good people that would be able to make a change.

There was another motive, of course. You do not dare speak to another soul. Not even to yourself. As you adjusted to the time, you found yourself roaming around the city more and more, hoping to even get a glimpse of the man you sought. The streets were full of colour and hope in the postwar era. You were worried you would stick out like a sore thumb in white, but to your delight, you seemed just as normal as everyone else around you. You found refuge among botanists and florists, ecstatic that there’s humans on this planet that appreciate your work the way they do.

You were pleased to see how humans are becoming more loving and accepting of others with all the counterculture movements. You had no trouble finding people that were able to adopt the “save the trees” movement, as you called it, and hundreds of trees have already been planted around Britain so far. The issues of what happens to the climate when there’s a lack of trees have been integrated into a lot of political movements slowly. You feel hopeful, but you also know that in about a century, and all of your hard work will be erased, no matter what you do, which upsets you.

 

It took a few weeks until you finally saw it. “A.Z. FELL & Co.” You’re not sure what drew you to the location; you can tell another angel has had an influence over it. However, it was closed. You decided to miracle yourself in anyway. The bell rings as a voice can be heard behind the tall book shelf. “Didn’t you read the sign? We’re closed! How did you get in here any-?"

The man stopped in his tracks at seeing you gently shutting the door behind you; he was unable to finish his sentence and just looked at you with the same kind of expression you expect from someone who just saw a ghost. You, however, looked more like a child who just found out they'd gotten a puppy on Christmas day.

You walk towards him and say, “Crowley! Do my eyes deceive me, or is that really you?” He does not answer, still looking at you with his mouth slightly agape. You cannot tell where he’s looking due to his glasses. When you get close enough, instead of responding, he just pulls you into a tight embrace. You hug him back, of course. It’s been a long time since you’ve had one, the last being from him before the revolution.

“My dear Crowley. I’m so sorry it took me so long to be able to find you again.” You say it softly, almost at a whisper, while moving your hand to his hair. “I thought you were never coming back.” His voice cracks, as if he were stopping himself from crying.

You pull back slightly at this, hoping to meet his eyes. You raise your hand in an attempt to take off his glasses; he, however, holds onto your wrist in an attempt to stop you. “I don’t think you actually want them off.” He chuckles, but you can tell he doesn’t actually mean it in a playful way.

You look at him intensely and say, “I’m quite sure I do.” You continue to move your hand despite his still being on your wrist. Lifting up the glasses, you look deep into his pale yellow snake eyes; you weren’t expecting it, in all honesty, and you weren’t sure how to react. You didn’t mind it, but it shocked you. He looked embarrassed.

You move the glasses to the top of his head. Now, you didn’t actually know what a kiss was until recently, when you saw it in a film. You didn’t quite understand it, what the appeal was. Until this moment, that is. Crowley pulled you into one. His lips met yours; you weren’t too sure of what to do, so you just closed your eyes and tried to kiss back. It was soft and warm—even better than a hug, you thought to yourself.

When he pulled away, he hugged you once again, burying your face in his chest. “You’re a terrible kisser.” He smirked, you felt his heart racing against your face. “Well, I didn’t know of it until recently!” You mumble against him. His hold on you was tight; you felt as if you couldn’t move. He was afraid of letting you go in case you disappeared; he was worried you were only a figment of his imagination.

After a few moments of silence, he whispers, “I want you to stay with me.”

a/n: i hope you enjoyed! i wasn’t sure how to end it exactly so i’ll let you lovely people reading it to decide, if you’d like to send me a message through my requests about what you think would happen from there then feel free, id love to read them!

#good omens #good omems x y/n #good omens x you #good omens x reader #good omens requests #good omens imagine #crowley x y/n #crowley x you #crowley x reader #crowley #good omens crowley #good omens fanfiction #crowley imagine #crowley fanfiction #david tennant x reader

[celiciaa]

GILBERT VON OBSIDIAN EVENT STORY....

EPILOGUE.

I just love you.

translations are not 100% accurate. expect mistakes.

special thanks to @otomehoneyybearr for proofreading! ♡

minors and ageless blogs dni.

The spy who reported Emma having been caught up in a runaway carriage looked as pale as the dead.

Probably because I was unconsciously emitting an unprecedented amount of murderous intent.

(As I thought, keeping the little rabbit in a cage is the best way to keep her safe.)

Fortunately, Emma’s injuries were minor, as the spy put himself in her place to protect her.

However, it seems that she hit her head while avoiding the carriage.

The moment when Walter’s examination revealed that she had lost all memory of her life as Belle,

I couldn't stay calm enough to start planning the date for the coachman's execution in my head.

Emma: Why…am I in Obsidian?

Gilbert: Of course, because I brought you here.

Emma: But why a commoner like me….?

Gilbert: Because I’m the big villain who loves the little rabbit very much.

(….You’re so terrified of me.)

The little rabbit backed up to the wall, looking visibly frightened.

In front of her is the royal family of Obsidian, the enemy of Rhodolite and the root of all evil,

Of course, her reaction was natural.

(I remembered the little rabbit was also like this back when we first met.)

(….The woman who told me she loves me is gone now.)

(….You said you will be by my side forever, but you lied.)

Although dark emotions swirled around me, I somehow managed to push them behind a smile.

But the little rabbit seemed to instinctively sense something.

(This is why I hated it.)

(…I never wanted to love anyone.)

The morning after with a calm head, I immediately started developing a cure. 

━━

She may eventually remember, or never at all.

It's a gamble, but I'll go about it like I normally would.

(Easier said than done.)

(….I'll do it even if it's impossible.)

As I absent-mindedly listed various formulas,

I noticed that the gaze of the little rabbit that I had brought along with me had been fixated on something.

Emma: Why are there roses here?

Gilbert: Oh, you realized it was a rose even though it wasn't in bloom?

The roses, which rarely bloom in this barren land of Obsidian, are similar to this medicine.

As I approached the roses that were born out of love, the little rabbit stood next to me.

Gilbert: I'm thinking of building a rose garden in the castle.

Emma: A rose garden?

Gilbert: Yes. A rose garden even grander than Rhodolite’s.

Emma: To love roses so much…

Gilbert: Because you do.

Emma: Me…?

Gilbert: You love roses more than I do, don't you?

Gilbert: I thought you'd be happy.

(….But right now, these roses are poison to you.)

(You look like you want to go back home.)

(…I don't want to let you go.)

Gilbert: Shall I grant you permission? 

Emma: Permission for what?

Gilbert: To return back to your hometown.

Emma: …!

Contrary to my heart, my mouth moves on its own.

(I really want to lock you in a cage….)

(But ever since I met you, I've been full of contradictions.)

━━

Since I had given permission, I had no doubt that the little rabbit would want to return to Rhodolite.

And sure enough, when I saw her visiting my room in the middle of the night, my premonition turned into certainty.

If I shot her in the leg right now, she wouldn't be able to go home— I thought to myself, this is such a cruel thing to do.

Emma: A surprise interview.

Gilbert: Huh?

Emma: I am here to request an interview with you, Gilbert.

Gilbert: ….

(….Ah, this is why…)

(I can't shoot you, and I can't lock you up.)

(You must be scared without your memories, yet you still prioritize facing me rather than going back home.)

(…Even if I don't want to love you, I still end up loving you.) 

━━

In exchange for being interviewed by the little rabbit, I receive one kiss each.

I gradually provided her with information based on such an arrangement,

As we exchanged kisses, the types of kiss changed noticeably with each time.

What was initially done reluctantly, gradually extended the duration of our contact.

Now, the little rabbit is drowning in our deep kiss with our tongues intertwined together.

Even the little rabbit's expression that had been awkward while facing a fearsome beast, 

Had also changed into something intoxicating that emitted a seductive allure.

(…I guess it wasn't the drugs you needed to cure your amnesia, but my feelings itself.)

(The more I talked to you, the more you seemed to remember how much I was in love with you….)

As I kneeled on the floor, I ended the long kiss and pulled away.

There was no fear left in the expression of the little rabbit sitting in the chair.

Gilbert: Do you still have questions for me?

Emma: …Yes.

Her pure, clear eyes flickered wildly.

Emma: Gilbert —— Gil, are you feeling lonely?

(….)

Gilbert: Isn't it obvious?

Gilbert: I am feeling lonely. 

(You've already reminded me of what loneliness feels like, so please don't do something like this again.)

Emma: I’m sorry.

She kisses me tenderly with an apology, but I bite her lip, unable to forgive her.

Gilbert: Only words?

Emma: ….

With a glance, I urged her on, and eventually, she began to fiddle with the buttons on her blouse.

(Yeah....It really does seem like you’re remembering everything.)

I shook my head at the little rabbit who was now in her underwear,

Although her face looked like she was about to cry, different from fear, she methodically dropped the thin cloth onto the floor.

I bit down hard on her body that was wearing nothing but a belt around her thigh and a gun.

Emma: Ow…

I bit her thighs, her sides, her chest, and her shoulders.

As I traced the bite marks that were gradually increasing with my fingers, Emma’s body trembled.

Gilbert: There won't be a next time, okay?

Gilbert: If something like this happens again, I will strip away anything that might cause an accident.

Emma: That means…?

Gilbert: If there’s no coachman, no carriages, nothing at all, then you wouldn't have any more accidents…right?

Emma: …I'll be careful! I'll be careful, so please stop!

Gilbert: Ahaha.

(….I might actually do it, so I won't say anything else.)

Gilbert: Emma, even if it's an accident, don't make me feel lonely anymore.

Gilbert: It's your responsibility to keep me alive.

I bit her lips one last time, and Emma responds with a tender kiss.

Emma: I'll never forget.

Emma: I don't want my love to be concluded as "false love".

━━FLASHBACK━━

Gilbert: A beautiful heart that cares for others is nothing but disgusting. I still doubt you.

Gilbert: Where's the love in telling me a terrible lie and leaving me alone?

Gilbert: But… 

Gilbert: Only for you….

Gilbert: I'm going to try to love you again.

━━FLASHBACK ENDS━━

(Really….)

Gilbert: Be careful, Emma.

Gilbert: You are my last hope.

▸       [  previous ]

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikemen prince spoilers #ikepri jp #ikepri translations #ikemen series #cybird #gilbert von obsidian #ikepri gilbert

[short-honey-badger]

Peppermint Tea 15

Figured I would go ahead and get this part out since it was already halfway written. Just some super fluffy and domestic stuff since I've been in my feels lately.

Also. JJk fandom. The name is for you. It's pretty obvious.

btw. I'm running out of OPLA Gifs of Mihawk, so you might start seeing some anime gifs.

Warnings! kissing is all.

Song reader is singing! Here!

Masterlist

Time passes as time does. Weeks turn into months since the day Dracule stumbled upon your island. He visits when he can, usually staying three or four days at a time, every couple of weeks. During that time, you and Mihawk have grown closer, to the point that the two of you were in each other's thoughts at every waking moment. There was nothing in this world that would keep Dracule away from his Snow Angel. 

Today Dracule had a rather unusual gift, so his ship was packed with the things necessary to take care of it. Dracule dearly hoped that you would like this one. He surely did not. Or maybe it didn't like him. 

As the months passed by, Dracule gifted you many things, some for you and some for your home. The three chickens, one rooster, and two hens had arrived not long after Mihawk had figured out your true heritage. Your garden expanded another four plots to accommodate all of the new seeds and saplings the warlord brought you. He had even gone so far as to help you build a pen for the goat Dracule had brought along on one memorable trip. The poor man had not been happy and made you help him clean his ship. 

The best gift of all was being able to finally meet Perona after weeks of speaking over the phone. The pink girl had quickly become your closest female friend, and it felt incredible to have someone to speak to about the girlier things in your life. There were some subjects that Mihawk just didn't get. 

Thankfully, Mihawk arrives at your island before he decides to toss your gift overboard. He gathers his things and then flashes off the ship, making sure the ocean doesn't touch the wiggling body in his arms. Golden eyes glare up at him and he glares right back down, and the warlord swears this thing is worse than the goat. Dracule can hear music pouring out of the cottage when he gets close enough. 

And then there suddenly appears before me 

The only one my arms will ever hold

I heard somebody whisper “Please adore me” 

And when I looked, the moon had turned to gold

Mihawk huffs at the lyrics. His timing was far too good. The closer he gets, he begins to hear your voice as well, and Dracule would much rather hear you sing to him than some man who is long dead. He would stand and listen if his gift wasn't threatening to claw his eyes out. 

The warlord steps through the open door of the cottage, and his shoulder slumps as soon as he enters the humble abode. This place is his home away from home, and it never fails to bring him peace. 

Dracule finds you in the back storage room, a crate full of the older and unneeded stuff you had lying around. After not having anything but the couch for Perona to sleep over on, you had decided that it was about time to clean out the back room for her. Or anyone else that didn’t want to kill you first thing when they washed up on your island.

Blue moon

Now I’m no longer alone

Without a dream in my heart

Without a love of my own 

He leans in the doorway, watching you finish up dumping a broken oar into the crake. Mhawk knows that you see him when you jump and turn to look at him with narrowed eyes and a cute little sneer. 

“Bastard. You scared me,” you grumble and then you cross the floor to carefully slide his hat off, holding it to the side as your free hand slides into his hair and brings him down for a sweet kiss, “Welcome home, dear.”

Mihawk hums into the kiss, gently nipping your bottom lip, and then sliding his tongue inside your mouth when you open up for him. You taste like sweet chamomile, and it leaves a soft smile on his face when he pulls away to gaze down at you, “It is good to be back, Angel.” 

The two of you share several more sweet kisses before the wriggling bundle in his arms finally gets your attention. You pull away and look down to see a very angry feline staring up at you. You break immediately at the sight of its pitiful gold gaze and hand Mihawk his hat back so that you can scoop the kitten up.  

“Where did you find him?” You ask and have already abandoned Mihawk in favor of giving the orange tabby in your arms all of your attention. The kitten purrs happily when you scratch behind his ears. 

Dracule glares at the creature, and the kitten glares right back from where it is happily curled up against your breasts. Mihawk doesn’t know how much he likes this idea anymore. 

“I stopped for a resupply before I came here. There was a fishmonger that had chased it off, and I knew that you would give it a good home,” Mihawk explains. He sighs when you baby talk at the kitten, not giving half the attention he deserves for bringing the little demon to you, but your happiness was definitely worth it, “I have what you’ll need to care for it in my ship.” 

The grin you grant him is worth it too, and Dracule can’t help himself when he crosses the room to press you against the wall, lips connecting with yours in a kiss a little more fierce than the ones earlier. Mihawk has missed you, far more than usual for some reason. You moan into his mouth, eyes sliding shut when Dracule slides a hand around your jaw, angling you just how he likes.

A loud yowl interrupts the two of you, and Mihawk pulls away to sneer down at the kitten who proceeds to hiss at him. You laugh, seeing his jealousy clear as day, and over a cat of all things!

“I guess we should name him, huh?” You say and it’s your turn to be on the receiving end of that sneer. You scoff at him and lift the kitten, dangling him in front of Dracule, “You found him, so you get to name him.”

Dracule scoffs and turns on his heel, stripping off his coat to hang on the mantlepiece, quickly followed by his hat, “He is your cat, so you are the one naming the demon,” He dismisses and stalks to the kitchen, but you only pout and follow after him. 

“Nu-uh. That’s not how this works. You saved him, you name him.” You weren’t about to back down on this. The kitten mewls and you snuggle it back to your front, tucking the fuzz ball under your chin. 

Mihawk ignores you in favor of pouring himself a glass of wine and snacking on the green grapes you must have harvested earlier today. He feels you slide up beside him, and chances a glance down to see his darling staring up at him with wide, pleading eyes, “Ugh. Fine. Give me a moment to think.” 

You cheer at your victory and patiently wait for Dracule to decide on a name. He does you the courtesy of actually thinking of a name and smirks when he settles on a proper name for the hellspawn.

“Sukuna,” Mihawk decides and you repeat the name, getting a feel for it. You don’t know the story behind the name, but it must be an interesting one with the way Mihawk is smirking at the kitten. 

“I think that’s a good name,” You agree and scratch Sukuna’s little ears again, melting when the kitten only purrs louder and snuggles close. You giggle when you catch Mihawk glaring at the kitten again, “Let’s find Hank. I think he’ll like his new friend.” 

Hank turned out to not like his new housemate very much. Sukuna had taken one look at the big hound and had puffed up, long fur bristling so much that he resembled nothing but a cotton ball. Hank had run from the tiny ball of anger straight to Mihawk, cowering behind the man, and whining whenever Sukuna got too close. 

“Nothing but a coward,” Dracule says, but he is already kneeling to give into Hank’s puppy dog eyes and give him some pets. Sukuna stalks from one end of the room to the other, fluffy tail straight up in the air as he surveys his new home. 

Mihawk straightens up when he sees you approaching. You settle in his lap, hands cradling his handsome face as you lean in to press your lips to his brow. Mihawk grasps you by the hips, tugging you flush against his front and holding you close. He noses along your jaw, “Are you happy with your gift, sweet thing?” He rumbles quietly. 

You nod, “Very happy, Mihawk,” you assure him and settle more fully in his lap, letting the man under you take your weight. He massages your hips, causing a soft sigh to slip from between your lips, “I missed you.”

“Did you, Darling?” Mihawk breathes and pulls you down to press his lips to yours for half a second, “What all did you do while I was gone? I see that you already started to clean up, even though I told you to wait for me.” 

You shrug helplessly, “I couldn’t help it. I was really bored, and we already decided what needed to be thrown out, so,” You trail off and lean forward to snuggle against his chest, “You can help in the garden later?” 

Mihawk huffs and presses a kiss to your hair. He watches as Sukuna chases after Hank’s tail, lips twisting in satisfaction to see the two animals getting along better. His arms tighten around you, and you have relaxed completely in his grasp. 

“Whatever you wish, dear one.” Dracule agrees and says nothing when he feels you grin against his neck.    

@writingmysanity @kenkenmaaa @foggyturtleknightangel @browneyedhufflepuff @goth-mami-writer @myradiaz @fluffybunnyu @bookandstar

#fanfic #one piece #reader insert #fluff #dracule mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #mihawk x reader #opla mihawk #mihawk x you #mihawk x y/n #one piece mihawk #dracule mihawk x reader #opla mihawk x reader #opla #cute #Peppermint tea #cats

[annie-creates]

What have I done

Pairing: Queen Ravenna x reader

Genre: angst

Words: 1200

Note: I'm back with some Ravenna angst, hope you'll enjoy it as much as I liked writing it.

For as long as you could remember you always lived at the castle of the king, your mother being one of his and his wife’s most trusted maids. You were still pretty young when the queen died, leaving the old man and his daughter Snow White in distress. You grew up in the happy kingdom of thrill and joy that started to slowly decay with every year you all mourned your late queen. But then, just as you turned into a lovely grown woman and got your own job at the castle, the king found a new wife, queen Ravenna. They all seemed so happy it felt unreal. Not long after however the old king joined his late wife in the gardens of Eden and all that was left was her majesty and the clueless princess, who ran away within the next year.

You could hardly understand it all and the land was unstable in times of such rapid changes. When you became the queen’s own maid, being young and freshly employed, Snow White was already wanted all over the country. To you, however, it wasn’t much concern. Your job was to make sure the queen’s comfortable in her clothes and shoes, massaging her feet and warming up her bed for the night. In the difficult times of doubt and uncertainty you slowly became her confidant. She could tell you anything, knowing you wouldn’t tell, and even if you did, no one would believe such unimportant being as her maid. From a confidant you became her friend and from a friend you build your way un to being her lover. You would never take any inappropriate step but when she invited you to her, how could you say no the most beautiful graceful being you have ever sat your eyes on?

You were still her servant willing to do anything and everything she ever asked for and giving her all you were, all you had and all you could ever get. You were completely and utterly taken by her glory, confidence and pride. It even made you a little proud yourself that the queen chose you over all the other men and women who fell at her feet every minute of the day. You took her joy and anger, anything she needed to release, all her good days and all the bad ones ended up with you being used in her bed. You could hardly ever stay, having to leave her warm cozy chambers to return to your cold and unwelcoming bed with a hard mattress and rat-gnawed pillow the moment she was satisfied with you.

With how fast and wholeheartedly you fell for the woman there was no stopping, no pleasure and no amount of kisses would be ever enough for you. You yearned for her presence and body as hard as the desert yearns for water. You needed her, longed for her at every second of the day. You could merge in the tightest hug on earth, eat each other in the most desperate of kisses and it still wouldn’t be enough. Yet lately it seemed her hunger exceeded yours, she needed release, assurances and the plain feeling of power. You became her most glorious possession, using you and savoring you at any moment she wanted to. With looking for more power and rule over the kingdom she became insatiable.

As you visited her in her throne room, she frantically walked around unable to sit still, her hair flying behind her with every turn like a veil of gold. To you she was still ethereal, the most beautiful of women on this earth. No matter how many worried wrinkles her forehead sported or the stressed pout on her lips. She was like a fairy with a flame that pulled in every moth around. It was obvious to you she was at her wits end, even if she’d never admit to it, being concerned with things you had no idea about.

“My queen.” You address her carefully. “May I help you?”

“Ugh, no. Leave me alone.” She hardly even spared you a glance.

“Maybe I can help you relieve some stress.” You tried again. “At least with a melissa tea?”

“I said get lost!” Ravenna angrily shouts at you and harshly slaps your face. “Now get out of my sight!”

“I’m sorry…” You whine holding your cheek with tears evident in your eyes.

“Oh don’t play that innocent little girl with me you spawn!” your emotional reaction infuriates her even more. “Your father never loved you and your mother rather died so that she didn’t have to be with you anymore. I don’t want to see you here again, you hear me!?”

You could hardly listen to her words anymore, running out of the room to not give her the satisfaction of seeing you cry. She liked hurting you, she liked having the dominant power over anyone. Yet never has she been so cruel and evil to you. At that moment, you believed her. You believed she wanted to get rid of you, to never see you again. So that’s what you did. You packed the few little things you owned and you left, your heart breaking into million little pieces as you left the only home you ever knew and the woman you loved so hard you could die for her. Yet you’d do anything to make her happy and if she desired you gone you’ll leave.

Ravenna on the other hand got her temper under control once again in a few days, establishing somewhat steady rule over her kingdom. All she wanted now was to enjoy a little piece of quiet, preferably with the tea you always made for her with the littlest bit of mint and honey and with your massage and presence. But after she ringed her bell to call you to her, a different girl came in your place, taking care of her with her gaze fixed on the ground.

“Where’s Y/n?” she barked at the girl, her mood immediately worsening.

“I don’t know madam, she left.” The maid answered fearfully.

“What do you mean she left?” no one had the audacity to leave her service on their own.

“She said you expelled her, so she left.” The girl shrugs looking at her queen this time.

“That is ridiculous! Bring me my guard.” She orders the girl who bows to her and leaves.

Not long after comes the commander of her guards, coming up with a plan for your search with her. The army turned every corner of the castle upside down to find you, and they rummage the whole city, but you’re nowhere to be found. Ravenna sends out unit after unit to travel to all the corners of her kingdom to find you, fearing what might happen to you in the wild and dangerous world. She wasn’t sure you were even still in her kingdom or alive, and that worried her infinitely. She didn’t realize how attached she grew to your presence and joyfulness, enjoying your mannerisms and easily pleased outgoing nature.

“What have I done.” She whispers into the darkness of her chambers feeling cold and unwelcoming without you in them.

#fanfiction #fanfic #queen ravenna #queen ravenna x reader #queen ravenna x you #queen ravenna angst #charlize theron x reader #charlize theron x you #charlize theron #snow white and the huntsman #snow white #ravenna #ravenna x reader #ravenna x you

[thestoriesfold]

Tonight’s Golden Hour: Introduction

Summary: You find a new beginning. A new country, a new place to live. But this isn’t living, not yet. Something was off.

Pairings: Marc Spector x gn!reader, Steven Grant x gn!reader, Jake Lockely x gn!reader, Y/N is used sparingly.

Word Count: 2.1k

Content: angst (barely), paranormal stuff happens.

Warnings: probably cursing and language, death in family!, references to cults, eventual references to witchcraft.

Notes: This is NOT proof read. Horrible grammar- probably. Honestly, I just had to get this part out of the way. Be gentle with me, I’ll actually cry. This series will come with its own soundtrack, you’re welcome.

Masterlist 🌙 Pt. 1

The day was dreary, probably normal for regular Londoners. But that wasn’t normal for you. No, you never planned on being here. Your home was warm when this was cold. You could hear nothing but the city, where as home would offer the potential of hearing the waves of the sea, maybe music. The building in front of you mocked you with its old sense of luxury. You never had anything more than a small house, one that was fit for a lonely person as yourself. You could never understand how your late Nana could ever come to have this. Your family seemed to struggle to stay afloat trying to leave what felt like a cult. It was honestly, it was the only reason you’d ultimately agreed to be here. Those bastards always found a way back into your lives, taking another family member with every prolonged visit. It hurt to know that you were the only one left not falling for the tyrannical brainwashing that had persuaded your loved ones.

That wasn’t completely true, your grandmother died before they could get her back into their grimy hands. That made you, the person standing in the driveway, smile slightly. Maybe she got out after all, escaped. Maybe I have too, you thought. It was one thing to move across the country, it was another to end up halfway across the continent. Yet, here you were, all of your belongings sorted between a suit case, back pack, tote, and carry on bag. Safe to say, moving was easy for you.

You only then felt the chill of the London breeze against your skin. Perhaps, you got ahead of yourself. But that wouldn’t matter any longer, not as you shoved your hands in the fabric of your jacket sleeves and forced onward. The closer you got, the deeper the pit in your stomach grew. The house looked normal, but you ultimately felt off. Your head turned to look behind you, seeing nothing but cars passing by the thrush covered fence, and the steel gate that separated you from the rest of London. The garden that surrounded the house was small, probably perfect for someone like your grandma. You blinked at the rose bush that had started to wrap around one of the porch’s posts.

All you could hear at this point was the sound of cars passing by behind you. You couldn’t pinpoint the feelings churning inside your stomach as you slowly unlocked the front door. The hinges made their old age known as the door swung open. It revealed the main entrance. The small corridor led into the front parlor of the house on one side, the other leading to a lowered study. Your eyes scanned the stairway that led up to the other floor of the house. Your mouth fell agape as you stepped fully into the house. The house was still furnished in your grandmother’s particular style.

“‘M glad she stayed so up to trends” you had enough mind to say as you put your jacket on the coat rack. The house looked like one in a movie. Part of you felt lucky despite the eerie feeling radiating off the walls. You gently shut the door behind you, giving yourself a tour of the front parlor. Antiques lined the house from top to bottom, every piece seemed like it could’ve been a hundred years old. You’d never truly know.

You crossed the corridor, stepping down into the large room of the study your grandmother had left you. Books older than time itself lined the shelves along the walls. You remembered how you’d sit and read together for hours. You remembered your grandmother swearing on putting lavender and a splash of milk in her cup of tea, opting to do it for her oldest grandchild as well.

The sigh that flooded the room was one of emotions that you had held onto for months now. It took so long to get things sorted out, you hardly had enough time to mourn. In fact, your grandma was all you really had anymore after the rest of your family joined that stupid group. Tears gathered in your eyes as you ran your knuckles over an all familiar title. One she’d read you every night as a child. Before everything went wrong.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It had taken an hour for you to memorize where everything you would come to regularly use within such a large house was. You sunk into the chair that accompanied a large mahogany desk that rested in front of an even larger mantled fireplace. A sigh passed your lips once more, something you’d come to do a lot as the years blurred on. Your hands gently lifted the computer from your bag, bringing it to the desk and began your search. “Y/N has to get themselves a job” you mumbled. You just needed something for food and transportation. The will made sure that this house would cost absolutely nothing for her grandchild, meaning you didn’t have to do anything extravagant. To your luck an opening at a nearby library was available, several actually. “Guessing the job of a librarian is a dying breed, eh?” You asked yourself as you clicked on the application.

Filling out the information came easy, you finished up quickly. Your back hit the chair, making it lean with you. Your eyes closed slowly. Tomorrow was going to be something else, something new. You just hoped that nothing would screw it up, especially yourself.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You forced yourself from bed days later, doing your best to look presentable for the job interview. Your eyes took in the variation of shades that made up the look. You looked normal, maybe the circles under your eyes was what threw you off. A small huff left your lips as you finished getting ready, hoping you’d remember to eat afterwards. Important things, they made you undeniably nervous. Too nervous to eat, too nervous to relax until the damage was done. That’s what you reminded yourself as you stepped onto the coach, paying the fee due to not having a pass just yet. The library wasn’t that far; you knew that, but you didn’t want to risk walking along the streets alone yet. You weren’t from London. The white knuckle grip you had on the bus rail was a reminder of why you missed home. You could walk everywhere.

Your eyes stayed focused on the stops above the headline, eager to get off the damn thing. The man next to you had done a piss poor job of not staring. You could feel the Greek curse leave your lips as you stepped down onto the sidewalk, finding your footing as you took in the large building. Nerves flowed through your body till this point, now you were just dead excited. Working with books, in a huge library. You could only imagine what you could get your hands on.

Hasty with your movements, you quickly stepped through the main doors. Your hands found their way around each other as you approached the counter, an awkward smile gracing your lips as you approached a much older woman. She was older than even your late grandmother. The wrinkled face looked up at you, eyes lighting up to see someone actually show up for an interview. You greeted each other, the old lady taking a while to come around the counter. It didn’t matter, you would wait. Something about the old woman smiling at you like that, would give you the patience of three saints.

“Hello there, darling! It’s so nice knowing the young folk still appreciate places like this” she gestured to the vast room that contained centuries of literature. “I suppose, we should get to business shall we? Here dear, follow me.”

You merely nodded, opting to follow the woman “Thank you so much for accepting my application, this place is beautiful” you admitted. Astonished, your eyes scanned over the two floors of paper. You almost missed Janet calling a man over, his dark curls swirling in different directions as he approached the two of you.

“Ah, Steven! Hello. This is the new hire I was telling you about” you turn to the man in front of you, both hesitating to speak too long for Janet. She ended the silence, looking between the two of you. “Anyway, Steven, would you mind covering the counter while I take ‘em to the office for our little interview?”

He took a second to break away from whatever trance had overtaken him. He could hear Marc’s voice in his head, but he ignored it. He’d gotten better at that lately, offering a lopsided grin as he spoke “It was great to meet you, Y/N. I hope it goes well” he offered a small nod of the head before turning around to the counter.

His face fell as Marc’s voice started in his head, telling him that he made it weird. You didn’t take notice of how his shoulders deflated slightly as Janet directed you to the back office. ‘Great job, Steven. Really’ Marc’s voice dripped with sarcasm as Steven rounded the counter, slowly sitting in the chair.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Both of you walked out with grins, Janet hobbling slightly ahead of you as she approached the front desk. Your eyes met the dark brown of Steven’s, causing you to give him a thumbs up. An almost childlike excitement was rolling off of you, glad that this had gone your way. He mimicked your hands “Congrats! Welcome to our dainty little crew” he chuckled as Janet shook her head.

“Speak for yourself, Grant. Nothing on this body is dainty just yet, young man” her tone had a sense of fire to it, causing you to let out a small laugh “I expect to see you both tomorrow bright and early” she spoke to the you both pointedly. With that, you and Steven exchanged a glance. He was taking in your features the best he could, you were observing him. Almost mentally preparing for whatever tomorrow’s little show of the ropes would be like. You didn’t like not knowing.

You said your goodbyes shortly after Janet took over the counter once more. As your shoes hit the pavement, a grin graced your lips. You’d gotten a job, a nice one at that. Your grin grew as you saw a coffee shop just down the street, still early enough in the day not to be completely flooded. That day was a good day, despite the creaks in the floorboards that night keeping you awake. Despite the shadows that bent and twisted, despite feeling like a presence was watching as you struggled to finally fall asleep.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was like something held you down, eyes wide open as the moonlight flooded into the room. Your eyes looked around, watching as the shadows of the tree outside seemed to curl inwards. Your breath came out as quietly as you could allow it, feeling your fingers twitch. The house creaked as you lay there. You were convinced your mind was playing tricks on you. This was some twisted dream of yours. You had the imagination.

Your body was stuck, pressed to the bed with an unseen weight. At least you thought so, until a book that fell from your dresser jerked your body up from the mattress. A twinge of anxiety burrowed itself in your chest, this house was more than old enough to be haunted or something. But, it couldn’t be that. Right?

Your bare feet on the cold floor made you more aware, more awake as you bent to pick up the book. Your hands slowly turned the book over, allowing you to see the old, and rather dusty cover. You felt your brows furrow as the title was in Greek, mouth falling open as you spoke the title out loud, Greek being your mother-tongue “Εκάτη Σκοτεινή Μητέρα?”

As you finished the last syllable, your door peaked open. The hinges whined loudly, your body jumping as you felt your heart nearly explode. Your breath was labored, you knew better than to move, than to make a sound. But you had to, this was your house now. Your bare feet slowly moved along the cold wood, every other step causing the floorboards to creak beneath your weight. You slowly descended the stairs, opting for the fire poker as a weapon in the case of an intruder. Wide eyes checked every possible crevice of space in front of you, heart beating loudly in your ears.

You found yourself in the study, already having cleared the house of any odd doings. Your hand slowly loosened on the fire poker, not seeing any signs of anyone ever being in the house. With a sigh, you put the poker down. Why was this happening? Looking at the ashes that littered the fire wood, you rubbed what little sleep you had gotten from your eyes. It was early, three in the morning was what the clock said. There was no way you were sleeping. You shook your head, opting to tidy up the study a little. You adjusted small things here and there, coming to the final corner. Squinting at the small statuette that had fallen into the floor. You picked up the two pieces it had broken into, taking in the sight of the bottom’s three womanly figures. In your other hand, you observed three different heads, the one in the middle sporting some sort of moon emblem. Letting out one final huff, you looked at the pieces in your hands “Merida..”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Translation: Hecate, Mother Darkness.

Also- Merida in an assortment of languages means shit. :)

Thanks for reading, totally let me know what you think!

#Spotify #steven grant smut #moon knight series #moon knight x reader #jake lockely imagine #moonknight #jake lockley #steven grant #marc spector #moon knight system #moon knight #moon knight x y/n #steven grant fic #steven grant x reader #steven grant angst #steven grant fluff #steven grant x you #jake lockely fluff #jake lockely x you #jake lockely x reader #marc spector x you #marc spector fluff #marc spector imagine #marc spector fanfiction #marc spector x y/n #marc spector fic #marvel #oscar isaac x reader #oscar issac imagine #oscar isaac

[slocumjoe]

I'm curious if you have any more variety NSFW headcanons about the companions (sexual or non-sexual like you did before is fine)

sure

🎉NSFW grab bag 3🎉

Cait; Completely desensitized to public sex. If she catches it, doesn't think anything of it. So, if/when someone else notices, their reaction confuses her. Someone could be bare ass boning on a table in a bar, and Cait won't react. This bothers her compatriots immensely. "Cait, please, for our own sanity, alert us when there is sex so we can leave." "...Why are you watching? Kinda rude." Stresses Danse the fuck out in particular. She's not even a voyeur, she just doesn't care. How do you think they made y– oh. Right.

Curie; Dreads inspections of the genital variety because her patients make it weird. Ma'am, Curie knows what's down there. She isn't spooked. She has one too. Just let her do her job so she can figure out how to help you. If one more person makes a fisting/fingering/prostate exam joke, she's going to do it, regardless of what they're actually in for. Broken leg? No, you brought this upon yourself. Oh, and by the way...if the doctor/nurse doesn't ask you to drop your pants, or undress in anyway...DON'T FUCKING UNDRESS.

Danse; Hypervigilant of public sex ever since he figured out that it could be happening anywhere, in any manner, and Cait won't say anything. A bossy partner has him by the throat and he's completely obsessed with it. Can get out of handcuffs pretty easily. Doesn’t know where he learned that, just knows its a fun plot twist in bed. Especially if there are repercussions. He's a good little soldier boy, he wants to serve and be punished for disobeying. Sometimes wonders if he subconciously joined the Brotherhood for impure reasons. They do have collars on the jumpsuit...and Danse ends up liking that sort of thing...

Deacon; His ultimate fantasy is a generic Royal setting. He's the concierge/bard for the visiting noble family, there to marry their son off to the king's child (his partner). But the marriage cannot go through, as there's been a murder attempt on the king! As the bard, he sees all in the court and festivities, watching from the sidelines and speaking in hushed tones with the servants, gathering clues, but...the bride/groom-to-be is what truly catches his eye...but they, themselves, suspect him as the would-be assassin. This ends in doggy in a bush outside a fancy colonial building in Boston, in place of a castle garden.

Gage; A lot more prudish than you'd think. Not to Danse's levels, but definitely not Cait's, either. Becomes more prudish if he's into someone, and they're being risqué. Most of it is directed at himself, feels like the dirty old man he is. Guilty of wandering eyes. Gets more flustered by someone being half-dressed/dressed revealingly than them being naked. Leaving it to the imagination and such.. Naked is nice, yeah, but...let him think about it, and his partner will have a noticeably more intense experience.

Hancock; Once had a wet dream his dick fell off and he kept it for himself. The idea doesn't appeal to him at all in his waking hours, so he's terribly confused. Has a soft spot for a nice jawline and eyebrows. Acts like a bottom to his partners, bratty, and then tables the turns once they're in bed. If his partner switches it up again, he'll play along, only to also switch things again. This will continue until someone cums, or they're so stubborn they never stop and both of them die of exhaustion. The longest streak was 45, both sides.

MacCready; Would die if he had sex with one of them thick gothic milfs those tiktok kids are always drooling over. MacCready likes mean, bully women. Valley girls, maybe even that Ann Codman lady in D.C. Would he get in a relationship with them? God, no. One-night stand? Yes. Yes, 100%, no question. Maybe it's the confidence to be horrible? He's pretty embarrassed about this. He should be. This fuck would clown around with Regina George in The Costume.

Nick; Long, long ago, Nick Valentine, with his theatrical tastes, his love of the arts, found himself in...certain circles. Ones with polite, soft-spoken men and women, who could turn as hard as you begged for. Later in life, Nick would use his experience in these circles for his and Jenny's enjoyment, though at that point, he was the ring-master of the show. And maybe, potentially...200 years after the world ended...a synth detective could use implanted memories of such times to gentle-dom someone's brains out.

Piper; Has spent a concerning amount of time scavenging adult shops for sex toys. Anything that works and is clean/cleanable. Just...needs something that isn't ol' reliable, y'know. Gets a bad case of the Idiot when horny, everyone becomes a bit more appealing. If she was totally honest...Cait would be her first choice, if she had one. If not Cait, X6-88. That man is goddamn pretty. Yeah, Piper has a things for bad girls/boys.

Preston; I've said before, Preston had a hoe phase, when he first joined the Minutemen. He was a good looking young man, traveling around with other physically fit people who just joined as well, sometimes helping people who were very grateful. So, yeah, Preston has had more than one partner at a time. Would he do that now? If it was a poly situation, and he liked both of them, maybe. But looking back, he's surprised he never caught something, be it a a disease or a complex. Sometimes remembers lines of dirty talk and cringes out of his own skin.

X6-88; The Institute is very strict on schedules and worktime, and there isn't much privacy. The walls are thin. There isn't often individual bedrooms, so as to save time and resources. So...when humans get a little frisky...they do it when, and where they can. This can means down a work tunnel, behind loud machinery...under a desk, occasionally. Sometimes you get guard duty. Sometimes you have to go find the people in question. Sometimes you're just walking.

X6-88 has seen a lot.

#fo4 #fallout 4 #paladin danse #preston garvey #piper wright #nick valentine #x6-88 #companions react #robert joseph maccready #porter gage

[callsign-phoenix]

I wrote this for my 1.5k follower celebration, I hope you like it!

It is a Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky x gn!reader blurb, requested by @gigisimsonmars.

The prompt requested is: your s/o remembering small things you’ve said.

Warnings: this is only proofread by me

Tom was an amazing boyfriend, even though he had a demanding job.

You had met because your best friend was also in the Navy, and from the very first moment he had set eyes on you he hadn’t been able to look away.

Your friend knew Tom and saw his interest in you before anyone else really did, but they also saw that Tom was far more reluctant, maybe even a hint insecure, than when he usually asked others out.

He only managed to come up to you shortly before you wanted to leave, and he actually seemed kind and caring, not like the man of bravado everyone else had gotten to know.

To you he seemed sweet so you agreed to meet him the following night after making some small talk, deciding to meet at that same bar again.

When you arrived he had already ordered you your favorite drink and he was so charming yet always a hint nervous, you couldn’t get enough of him.

From that first date onwards he always remembered things you said, and you developed the most amazing relationship either of you had ever had.

You loved spending time with him and he always seemed to find things that you loved to gift to you, even if it was just your favorite type of tea or that he immediately remembered how you like your coffee, he seemed to guess or always remember what you loved.

Tom had asked you if he could take you on a date he planned on his own, without you knowing what he was up to, and while you were nervous you had faith in him.

He came up to your home one afternoon and escorted you to his car, an album of your favorite band already playing when you entered it and the temperature was perfectly to your liking.

You had spent one night laying on a picnic blanket in his garden stargazing, and you had mentioned that you had always wanted to visit the Griffith Observatory, because it wasn’t only a beautiful building but the views and exhibitions were incredible.

You arrived shortly before the observatory closed, which was strange to you, but Tom just sent you one of his disarming smiles.

He took you by the hand and lead you to the entrance, where the woman at the reception already smiled at you.

It turned out that Tom had once again listened to you far more than you would have thought, and that he had remembered something you had said after reading a romance novel by one of your favorite authors.

The main characters had been on a date in an observatory that had been closed over night, and you hadn’t been able to stop gushing about the romance of it all.

As a pilot Tom could tell you about the constellations and stars as well as any guide could have, and he lead you through the darkened observatory, showing you around and explaining everything to you while holding your hand.

It was the epitome of a perfect date and it was just one of oh so many things you had casually mentioned that he decided to pursue, building a fairy tale life for the two of you.

tagging: @starkleila @mayhem24-7forever @green-socks @letsfvckingdance @shadeds-library @yespolkadotkitty @whateverbagman @neptunes-curse @sweetheartlizzie07 @top-gun-rooster @iloveprettyboysblog @ateliefloresdaprimavera @imjess-themess @littlebadariell @angstyjellybean @marchingicenotes7 @midget713 @supernaturaldawning @gspenc @adorephina @bespinnn @malindacath @aerangi @kassieesworld @kwanimations @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @marvelandotherfandomimagines @mavericksicybabe @kendra-rose @desert-fern @mavrellover91 @allivingstone01 @rhettabbotts @withakindheartx @trikigirl271 @cherrycola27 @bonitanightmxres @ratcatcher2world @glowingtree @wingmanvenus

(please tell me if you want to be added to the taglist, or use this link)

#tom iceman kazansky imagine #tom iceman kazansky #tom iceman kazansky x you #tom iceman kazansky x reader #tom kazansky x reader #tom kazansky imagine #tom kazansky x you #iceman top gun #top gun iceman

[anjelicawrites]

In the wake of this ask and this other ask, what happens between Tom Bennett and his badass nurse once the war is over.

Pairing: Dommish!Nurse!Reader x subbish!Tom Bennett Warnings: mention of death, mention of nightmares, kissing, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, mention of painful sex, overstimulation, mention of spanking.

NSFW and 18 + only please!

Once the military hospital you worked at was closed, you went back to Manchester, to your old civilian hospital, and life. You didn't know what to expect, surely not to feel so empty. Your friends, those who haven't been killed in the war, have tried to drag you along to the movies or to dances so that you could meet new people, namely those fun American soldiers still in England; you have tried, dolled yourself up and danced you feet off, even tried to flirt with some of the people you've met, to no avail. Ever since you stepped foot in your flat, you've been feeling like you're observing life through a glass wall: you're there but you're not, the people around you laugh and cry and fall in love and you're like the spectator of a play. For this reason you've taken to stay at home more, tending to your plants and reading books in the hope that you'd stop feeling like a guest in your own life.

You huff as you remove your gardening gloves and put them on the table: the roots of the plants have finally enough room in the newer pots and moving them next to the windows will help them grow. The bell rings and you whip your head around: you're not expecting anyone and the only person in the building who used to come and visit has recently passed away. You blow a stray hair off your nose and head towards the door, perhaps is your friend Bess who tries to drag you to the cinema, or maybe to the pub, at every chance she has, saying that you need some fresh air for your health.

"Hello love."

For a moment you don't recognize him, you were so used to see him in his hospital issued pajamas, or his uniform the day he was discharged back into military life, that his civilian clothes almost don't suit him.

"Tom? Tom Bennett?"

You're surprised to see him on your doorstep. You two have been writing to one another, letters that arrived late or not at all, his riddled with grammar mistakes, yours with your fast handwriting; when you knew the date of the closing of the hospital, you sent him your home address, not truly expecting him to keep on writing once the war ended, but you felt bad to deny him the chance.

You never thought he would show up, uninvited and unexpected.

"You look good." He drawls. "You too Tom." You can't help but smile. "Come in! Don't stay on the threshold!"

You head for the kitchen as he gingerly observes your small flat, all with potted plants and books everywhere.

"When did you ship back? And what are you doing here?"

You sense him hovering next to the kitchen door.

"I've just returned." You can sense his eyes raking down your body. "And you promised me a date, love."

You turn around and lean against the counter, your breast pushed out, eyebrow raised.

"The way I'm remembering it I didn't promise you anything, Tommy."

He advances towards you with a smirk on his lips.

"We both survived the war, haven't we? You said you'd let me take you out on a date if that happened."

He tries to crowd you against the counter and his scent attacks you, cigarettes and something wild you've never been able to recognize.

"So we did." You place a hand on the soft jumper he's wearing. "That needs a celebration."

He tries to get even closer to you but you're faster and manage to regain your freedom: as much as you are happy to see him, you're still the boss.

"The tea is in the cupboard near the window. If we're going out I need to get ready."

You take your time in dolling yourself up, choosing one of the best dresses you own and putting on more make up that what's usual when you go out with your friends. As you're getting ready, you hear Tom move around your space, trying to be as quiet as possible as he sips his tea.

There have been people who have tried to get to know you on a deeper lever, and you've always stopped them, with Tom, whenever he would ask questions, you never felt compelled to clam up; with him talking about yourself came natural and now that you can hear him walk around your living room, you don't feel the push to come out of your bedroom and chastise him. You don't know what's with Tom that makes you accept his antics and his curiosity, or why you were so happy to receive his letters, even littered as they were with grammar mistakes that made your skin crawl.

He stops on his tracks when he sees you, his mouth hangs open a little, his eyes rake up and down your body and you can see the wheels turning in his head.

"If I were you, I'd ponder on what's going to come out of my mouth."

Jesus, slipping back into the playful tone you used with him most of the times is so easy.

"The old uniform did you no justice." He says, after a beat.

Back at the military hospital he rarely had the chance to see you naked, he was always on his knees, eating you out as if you were his last meal. You two never had full intercourse and you were never in your civilian clothes, and now you've purportedly chosen a dress and brasserie that enhance whatever curves being on rations left you.

"Thank you. You look dapper yourself." You answer with a smile.

He was stunning in his sailor uniform and he is now in his clothes. You can see that the trousers and jumper are old, but they are well kept and enhance his long legs and wide shoulders; the way he smiles lets you know that he's well aware of the fact.

"Shall we go?" He asks, extending his hand. "Yes." You answer.

You remember when Tom had told you that dates with him were never boring, internally you had scoffed at that, but you have to change your mind as you two dash around town, without a destination, until you two find refuge in a pub when you are both too tired to walk around.

How you two manage to find a table and chairs is nothing short of a miracle, the place is packed with people of all ages, ready to celebrate and imagine a brighter future. You are sitting, waiting for Tom to come back with the beers, that you realize one thing: you don't feel like you're watching life from behind a glass wall. For the first time since you came back, the happiness bubbling in your chest is real, so is the smile you feel stretching your lips. All thanks to Tom.

After a pint, endless rounds of darts and an almost brawl with a group of drunken US soldiers, you and Tom are walking in the vague direction of your flat.

Tom has told you that his house was destroyed and that he was crashing at his sister's, at least temporarily, until something comes up.

"A friend of my dad offered me to take his job." He says, with an inflection in his voice you can't truly decipher. "Is it so bad?"

Tom doesn't look at you when he answers, he focuses his blue eyes on the stars dotting the sky over you two.

"After everything." His hand makes a wide gesture. "It feels anticlimactic."

You understand. You weren't in the line of fire, but the rhythm at the military hospital were faster, the stakes higher than the work you're doing now at your old post, and it feels surreal to go back to the person you were before. As if you hadn't seen countless young men die in pain, calling for their mothers, as if you don't wake up when the nightmares are too horrible.

"I suppose that's what is expected of all of us. Go back to our boring lives and live on."

He shrugs at your words.

"There isn't much to go back to." You can hear the strain in his voice and it breaks your heart. "Perhaps it's a chance to build it, a newer place to go back to." "Perhaps." He answers and is lost in his thoughts.

The last leg of your walk towards your flat is silent, the sounds of the people around you two fill in for the lack of conversation; everyone seems so happy and carefree, how come that you, and you reckon Tom as well, can't be as everyone else? Or maybe the rest of the world is better at pretending than the two of you.

The violent rain that pours over you two breaks the spell as you two run and laugh, poor Tom even tries to cover you two with his jacket, but risks to make you fall in the puddles that have already formed on the broken pavement. You two are drenched and try not to make too much of a racket as you climb upstairs to your flat, a couple of your neighbors wouldn't be too happy to see you take an unknown boy home.

The silence you two now share is filled with anticipation, all those sad thoughts gone, for the moment. Tom plasters himself behind you, the wet clothes you two are wearing make so much easier for you to feel the outline of his hard cock pressed against your arse.

"If I were you I'd behave Mr. Bennett." You whisper, barely stifling a giggle. "Or what will you do to me if I don't?" He growls in your ear.

You push your arse backwards, rubbing purportedly against him.

"You'd love a spanking too much for it to be a punishment. Perhaps I should ruin your orgasms, that had been fun!"

Tom mumbles something against your hair.

"What was that?" "It wasn't fun when you did that." He pouts. "It was for me and that's how usually how punishment work; if you like it, you'll never going to learn."

You two tumble inside the miniature hallway; you barely manage to lock the door, that Tom cages you against the wall and the ancient wallpaper you should have changed eons ago. Thanks to the moon illuminating the living room, you can see the fire burning in Tom's eyes, the way he bites his reddened lower lip makes your cunt quiver: you've missed talented mouth and realize only now.

"Let me kiss you." He moans as his eyes zeroed on your lips.

Even since you've ruined his orgasm as a punishment, he had wanted to kiss you, taste your lips, make you moan and you'd never let him.

"I think there's another set of lips that need you attention first."

Your hand finds the top of his head as he falls on his knees with a smirk: he's missed your taste and you have no idea how much.

His hands fly to the hem of your dress to bunch it around your hips to uncover the pretty panties and garter belt you're wearing, the silk is so soft under his fingers and your center already wet for him, that he moans at the thought of finally tasting you again after so long. Careful he unhooks your stockings from the small pegs and rolls them down your legs to then set them aside, he remembers how prissy you can be whenever he's being messy. Hungry he kisses your tummy, his tongue licks the salt of your skin and you laugh at how ticklish it feels; he grins when his lips meet your panties, his long fingers slowly push them down your legs, uncovering your already weeping center. He can't help himself, he licks your left tight, wet already with your essence, and he moans, wanton, needy.

With a cheeky grin he puts the panties in his pocket. You don't have the chance to chastise him, that his lips curl around your clit, sucking harshly, hungry for your taste as he is for water; two of his fingers breach you, hurriedly looking for that rough patch that makes your hips kick against his face. Like a desperate man he licks your clit, his tongue writes nonsense against your apex, in tandem with the thrusting of his fingers inside of you, as your muscles tighten around him and your whine your pleasure. You're drenched and he moans against you, his tongue now sweeps the whole of your cunt, his lips suck and kiss your labia until he finds your clit again and his teeth lightly nibble at the small bundle, before sucking it again. Your head bangs against the wall as pleasure zaps up and down your spine, your hips push against his face, your hands grab his hair to plaster him better against yourself; your almost scream when his tongue enters your, rigid and fast inside your wet walls, and his nose finds your clit, moving at the perfect angle. You whine and whine as both his tongue and finger fuck you, you feel the pleasure build as his tongue tries to lick your essence and his index pushes steadily against that rough patch inside of you in tandem with the way his nose moves against your clit.

Broken whines and moans spill from your lips when you come all over his face, and he keeps fucking you, prolonging the pleasure. You try to dislodge his face, but his lips are around your clit again, to suck harshly, deaf and blind to the way you keen and your body arches, desperate to stop the pleasure: he needs you to come again, needs to drink from you or he'll die. Pressure builds inside of you, your hips kick in his hold faster and faster, his lips suck your clit with as much strength as he can muster, and you come again, drenching his face.

He has to carry you on the bed, your legs tremble too much for you to walk there. With the utmost care he lays you there and finishes undressing you; unconsciously he licks his lips when your breasts are uncovered, your nipples pert and begging to be worshiped, like the rest of you. Hastily he undresses himself, proud of his erect cock under your hungry gaze, and leaves his clothes on a chair in the corner; he doesn't want to be spanked, not when he can finally have you fully, the way he's dreamed for so long.

You're burning with your own desire, your fingers find your center and slip inside, shallowly fucking your wet hole as you appreciate his strong body and tick cock. With a low growl Tom stalks towards you, until he can cage you under himself and your hand can wound around his erection to lay it between your drenched lips so that he can start moving against you, moaning at your warmth.

He needs to slip inside of you, his cock strains for your hole, but he has to wait for your permission, for you to tell him that he can take you and loose himself in your depths. He almost comes untouched when you order him to breach you, he has to focus on the designs on your bed sheets when his head is enveloped by your muscles and his cock is sucked in; he doesn't want to come like a horny teenager, he wants to pleasure you first, until you can't take it anymore.

"I've been... I've been dreaming of this, ah!" He babbles, almost chocking on his tongue when your cunt clenches midstroke. "Have you been touching yourself, pretty sailor? Imagining your hand was my cunt?"

The sultriness of your voice cuts through the haze of pleasure enveloping his brain, forcing him to stop his advance inside of you, or he'll come. His arms tremble with the effort to keep his weight and you use his weakness to turn you two around, straddling him, your cunt hungrily swallowing his cock: it has been a while and Tom is extremely well endowed.

As wet as you are, it's still difficult for your body to accept his invasion; the more you lower yourself, the painful it becomes to make sure he bottoms out. When a painful wail escapes his lips, Tom stops your descent with worry in his eyes.

"Am I hurting you?" "A bit, Tommy, but that's fine, I like it when it hurts."

Stubbornly you try to take more of him, your eyes clenched shut in pain.

"Yellow!"

You stop immediately and look into his eyes.

"I don't want to hurt you."

You can see how afraid he is of maiming you and your heart skips a beat: all your previous partner were into pain as you were, or didn't care whether or not they were hurting you, either way none of them gave a damn about your well being, Tom is a first.

"Do you want to stop?"

Now you are as worried as he is: scarring him is not part of the plan. Tom is conflicted, your cunt feels like heaven around him, but he knows he's ticker than most, he's had girls refusing to have sex with him, because they were afraid of his cock. He'd do anything for you, but he'll never harm you.

"I don't want to hurt you." He says earnestly and his concern brings tears in your eyes.

Gently he turns your entwined bodies on the bed and slips out of you, his cock resting between your labia again.

"You're not hurting me, Tommy." Your hand cups his cheeks and he rubs against it like a cat. "I could see it in your face." "You're a lot Tommy, and I love it. My body just needs a moment to take you in fully."

His forehead finds yours as your fingers card through his hair, gently calming him; his breath slows down as his lips hover on yours and you close the distance.

His taste explodes in your mouth, cigarette and your own essence dance on your tongue as his slides inside your mouth, searching and seeking with renowned hunger.

"Let me take care of you." He says, breathless, when your lips disconnect. "Yes, Tommy." You moan back.

It's torment the way his cock slides between your labia, drenching himself in your honey, how your hole clenches around nothing with every push of his head against your engorged clit; you moan in the kiss and rub yourself against him, hungry for his cock.

It's with slow pushes and pulls that Tom breaches you again, his lips never leaving yours as he enters you, leisurely, making sure that's the reaction of your body that guide his advance, the moans that escape your interlocked lips his only map; when he enters you fully your body arches, lips leaving his when you whine like a lost animal.

"I did... Christ!" He groans. "Imagined your cunt, ah! This is better! Oh God!"

Your ankles interlock behind him, keeping him safe inside of you as he tries to reign his orgasm in: you two are coming together, when your cunt strangles his cock, or it's nothing at all.

He keeps kissing you as he starts moving, figures of eight that make you whine, your hips following his when he fucks you faster, his thrust shorter against your spot, your muscles pulsating around his erection, sucking him in when he tries to leave; you're wound so tight around him he can barely grind against you, and your clit, pleasure zapping up your spine like a lashing that makes you whine in the kiss, your nails scratching down his back as your hips follow his, feeling the immense pressure build inside yourself with every passing, his inarticulate sounds of pleasure spurring you on.

The fist of your cunt around his erection almost hurts when you come, taking him with you, drowning him in an abyss of pleasure.

You wake up in the middle of the night, not used to have someone sleep with you; usually you kick out your partners after they're done, not truly understanding the need to have them cuddle you after the deed is done. But Tom is another thing, he's not one of the many people you've shagged and forgotten, he's something else, something you can't name. You try to move in his embrace and feel his semi erect cock rub against your naked arse, you snuggle closer to him, not truly wanting to care about the future. You will need to name this, put it in its rightful place in your life; not tonight, though, when Tom is keeping you warm in a way anyone ever managed to do before.

#tom bennett #tom bennett x y/n #tom bennett x reader

[rehfan]

Chapter 3 is here….

The Hat Shop Girl

Inexperienced!Ralph X Fem!Reader/AFAB!Reader

Summary: You were working as a clerk in a hat shop when Ralph Penbury walked into your life. Nothing was ever the same.

Warnings: 18+ and over only please. Eventual smutty smut - NOT for children! Non-consensual touching, implied/referenced drug use.

Tags: meet-cute, eventual smut, slow build, angst with a happy ending, class differences, fantasizing, implied/referenced drug use, non-consensual touching, sexual inexperience, first kiss, kissing, first French kiss, neck kissing, sexual education, angst, emotional hurt, vaginal fingering, nipple play, vaginal sex, first time, blow jobs, cream pie, fluff and smut

Read on AO3 HERE

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9

************************

CHAPTER 3: GETTING TO KNOW YOU

The next day was filled with exploring the house. Martha had informed you that Victoria had friends to visit in the village and Ralph was having a bit of a lie-in that morning. She also told you quietly that his lordship usually doesn’t rise for breakfast if he has a head on. You had seem him imbibe quite a snootful last night. Lord knows how much more he had drunk after you left his company. Maybe he was drinking to drown out his sister’s voice. Thinking of her, you couldn’t half blame him.

After a quiet breakfast alone, you made your way out of the house and into the grounds. The fresh morning air was filled with the odd call of a peacock, but you could see no such bird about. They had to be somewhere else on the property, so you circled the mansion and moved into the gardens. Gravel pathways led to the side of the building between neat rows of well-manicured patches of grass and empty flowerbeds, it being too late in the season for any sort of delicate petal. Oversized stone bird feeders were empty and the fountain on this side of the building was off for the season, but you could imagine a sunny spring day, rows of colorful flowers all around with bees buzzing or, better still, a warm summer evening, starlight and the soft fall of water into the fountain reservoir providing a very romantic backdrop. It made you long for your days before the war, back when you were deliriously happy and a lot less lonely.

The manse had huge windows all around, some with glass stained in light blues and yellows and as you moved around to the rear of the house, its main feature was revealed: two gigantic loggia running almost the span of the building with a large stone porch that extended out from the ground floor of the house about twenty yards from the lower loggia with steps that led to a sprawling lawn at the back and garden paths on either side. You climbed the stairs at the side and looked out over the property. With all this space, no wonder the twins felt the need to fill it with people; this was a lot of house for just two.

The estate was enormous. One of the groundskeepers you met on your journey mentioned that all the acreage you could see from the rear of the house was all the Penbury land. They were nestled in a valley surrounded by small rolling green hills with their own wood on the east and south of the property.

Their father had been a hunter; a fact made obvious by the various antlers and deer heads on display in the billiard room, some 6-point, some 8-point, and one gigantic 12-point above the large fireplace.

As you wandered, the staff greeted you here and there as they went about their daily chores. Everyone was pleasant, but busy. You hated to disturb them, to ask awkward questions. You knew you shouldn’t, but you wanted more information about your hosts. Martha proved an invaluable asset in that regard.

“Anything wrong, miss?” she asked you as she came into your room delivering the last two dresses to your wardrobe that had just arrived by courier.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but… the Penburys? All this wealth? How far back does it go? How do they afford all of this?”

Martha arched an eyebrow and didn’t answer, choosing instead to straighten your perfectly straight delicates in their drawer.

“I know it’s rude,” you added quickly, imagining both of your parents staring you down, disappointed in your line of questioning. “But I have no one else to ask. It’s obvious I’m not exactly in their… stratosphere.”

Martha smiled gently. “Transport, miss” she answered, “Railroads, mostly. But also ships and airplanes.”

“Goodness,” you said. No wonder everything was so opulent. There’s nothing so necessary as moving things about: people, things, it didn’t matter. Every country and business and person needed to get from one place to another. It was already set up by the great-grandfather, according to Martha. The wealth that had stemmed from the government contracts during the Great War alone had been enough to pay for several lifetimes for the twins.

Suddenly, their behavior was put into perspective. The money, like the landed title, had always been there. They had never performed an honest day’s work in their lives - which you expected - but their parents probably hadn’t either and didn’t prepare their children to either.

“Where are their parents?” you asked Martha as you watched her fiddle with your things, straightening your bedsheets. Your fingers itched to help her. Would she be insulted if you did? You consoled yourself by stoking the fire a bit.

“Their father died overseas two years back,” she said. “Their mother had passed on before that. Cancer took her about six years ago.” Wistfully, she added: “Lord Penbury favors her. He has her eyes.”

You snapped your fingers. “Ah yes, the woman in the portrait above the fireplace in the drawing room.”

Martha nodded. “Yes, miss.”

“Dearly missed, I’m sure,” you murmured quietly. Heaven knows how Ralph’s life changed without his mother. Unless she acted like Victoria as well. That would have been a shame. For her part, Martha didn’t say whether the late Lady Penbury of the house was missed either way.

You let your memory of the woman in the portrait stare down at you in your mind before another question hit you: “Who is coming tonight?”

Martha shrugged. “I expect that would be all Lady Victoria’s friends.”

“Not Lord Penbury’s?” Martha paused. “Martha?”

“He- uh,” Martha looked a tad nervous. “I really shouldn’t be gossiping-“

“Of course, Martha,” you said, a flush of guilt running through you. You came to her wringing your hands with worry. “I shouldn’t even have started asking you. I’m sorry. I won’t let anyone know. You’ve been most kind. Thank you. If there’s anything else you need to tend to, don’t let me keep you.”

Martha smiled and made her little curtsey-bow, leaving you to your thoughts.

Could Lord Ralph Penbury really not have any friends? That didn’t seem right. You knew he wasn’t the most clever person nor did he seem to have a lot of self-restraint, but he was kind. Even if they started off as friends of Victoria’s, surely some people would also become friends of Ralph. How could they resist such a lovely soul? He was a tad hyperactive, of course. Perhaps a bit socially awkward as well, but surely that wasn’t a social death sentence, was it?

But then, you didn’t travel in these social circles. The friends you had were mainly raised in your social class. You would meet at the church social gatherings, the WI meetings, school friends and work friends all making your life that much brighter. You were lucky that you had been born to good, clean-living parents who didn’t dote on you but still encouraged you and supported you in these modern times where there was no shame in a girl working in a shop to make a living for herself instead of rushing off to get married to the first eligible bloke that asked.

You took a good look at yourself in the massive vanity mirror. You weren’t too old to marry again quite yet, but you were getting there. The third finger of your left hand used to have a simple band on it and had shown a tan line during that first blessed summer. It was gone now. Just like Charlie.

It had been a slow burning romance over the course of two years. Your father and mother worked for the Hollingsworth family and Charlie was the son of the local butcher in town. He had charmed you off your sixteen-year-old feet and soon things had become too close between you to not at least have plans to get married. Once you had turned eighteen, your father had given you away with a tear in his eye. Your mother had arranged the flowers in your bouquet. You had been married only a few months but it was filled with the most laughter, excitement, romance, and joy you had ever experienced — and the most lascivious intercourse.

You shook your head as you realized you probably knew more than Ralph did when it came to physical pleasure. You would likely make his head spin if you ever kissed him. You could only imagine how pink his ears would get at the suggestion of you naked.

Giggling, you left your rooms to go and find him. He should be up and about by now. Plus, you knew that his voice and demeanor would ground you and stop these errant fantasies. All you would have to do is look at him to get your feet on the ground again. He could never be yours; he was too far above you socially. The best you could do was be his friend and wait to speak to the manager at Selfridges who would hopefully attend the party that evening. After that, both he and his sister could come to their senses and dump you back at your flat in no time, shine worn off the proverbial apple, and you would have gained the small advantage you had come to obtain.

And what a sad day that would be.

Ralph was easy to find, all you had to do was follow Victoria’s voice. At the bottom of the main staircase, you made your way into an anteroom with a rather large chandelier. Beyond that, the ballroom extended far along the building, floor-to-ceiling windows on two sides, french doors letting guests out to the side and the rear of the building where the loggia was and the generous porch beyond. Victoria stood in one of the french doors correcting Ralph who was trying to direct the workers to arrange tables and chairs.

“You’re not leaving enough room for dancing,” complained Ralph.

“There’s the dance floor there! And besides, people can dance around the tables,” Victoria argued. “Really Ralph, there is plenty of room! We don’t need room enough for the Tiller girls to come kicking through! Lord, will you please stop being a bother and go do something else?”

“Then I shall see about the musicians,” he stated.

“I have already handled that. I told you this morning when I woke you,” she said. “Really, you have no memory at all!”

“You know I can’t concentrate on things when I have a headache! Really, Victoria, it’s my party too, you know. I would like something to do!”

“Go and make sure there are plenty of linens then,” she said to him before turning to the workmen and saying: “Three more tables with chairs all around there, I think. Yes. Just there. Don’t scuff the chairs!”

“Victoria, I’m not counting napkins and table cloths. I-“

It was then Ralph caught sight of you. You wore the white day dress with the red trim Victoria had gushed over. It was quite flattering on you and Ralph seemed to appreciate it too considering his stare. It took him a moment, but he recovered and beamed at you.

“Oh hello there and good morning!” he said with a wave. You came to him, watching Victoria nitpick about the condition of the hired chairs for the event.

“Good morning, Lord Penbury,” you said, with a curtsey.

He laughed and waved a hand at you. “I told you: please call me Ralph.”

You nodded toward his sister. “Is she always like this?” you asked.

“Only when it’s a party,” said Ralph. “So yes. All the time.”

You had to laugh. It was as though he had rallied from the evening before. He had a bit of fire in him today. He was biting back. You felt a bit proud of him.

“May I help in any way?” you offered. “I feel a bit of a third wheel.”

“Nonsense! And no, I’m afraid. She barely wants my help. And a Penbury wouldn’t dream of asking a guest to assist with preparations. It’s unheard of. No. I think we’d better remove ourselves.”

Victoria’s voice reached another octave. “Yes,” you agreed, “before she reaches full steam and blows her boiler!”

The two of you escaped to the lawn at the rear of the property, Ralph offering you a gentlemanly arm. The weather was warming up well for early autumn and you hoped the sun would peep from the cloud cover. The house was a darker hue than the clouds and would have made a fine snapshot if you had a camera. “Quite a remarkable home,” you said, more to yourself than anyone else. You weren’t sure if you were talking about the structure or the people who dwelled in it.

“It’s been in the family for ages now,” said Ralph. “Grandfather built it for grandmother after a trip to Italy. Explains the architecture. We would spend summers here where our parents would entertain during the season.”

“And then back to London for the rest of the time?” you asked. Ralph nodded. He hadn’t been looking at the house but in the opposite direction, regarding the rolling hills that led to the top of the valley. He seemed lost in thought for a moment and you watched his face, not wanting to disturb him. How did you not notice how lovely his eyelashes were?

You couldn’t allow yourself such thoughts. You were here for a new job. That’s all. Just stay in their good graces without forgetting your social position, and everything would be sunshine and daffodils. You broke the silence. “Your friend from Selfridges. He will be here tonight? You’re certain?”

Ralph blinked. “Oh yes. He’ll be here. He never misses a snowball party.”

“Snowball party?” you asked. Ralph laughed and smiled.

“Um, yes,” he said. “Victoria has a penchant for them.” He cleared his throat and went on: “He’ll be delighted to meet you. You’ve got moxie. That’s what I told Victoria. I like your moxie.”

Compliments always caused you to blush, but somehow when they came from Ralph, they turned you absolutely crimson. “Thank you, Lord- er, I mean Ralph. Thanks ever so much.”

It was his turn to blush just then. It was the beginning of a very pleasant afternoon with Ralph, strolling the property, discussing the flowers that were planned for the following spring and the stories of parties past. He had a cunning sense of humor and his laugh was loud and free. He livened your soul. After so many years on your own, thinking that you were never going to find another nice man to be with… but no. Not Lord Ralph Penbury, heir to millions. You were only a clerk, a working girl, not of his circle. You couldn’t hope to be his. Not that you wouldn’t still dream about it.

And when you regarded him, you saw plenty to dream about. He was physically fit for one, standing five-foot-ten at your best guess. His hands were big and broad with thick fingers and well-groomed nails. They seemed strong, but you knew there wouldn’t be a single callus on them. He had a lovely smile, even though he tried to hide it sometimes when he thought he was being cheeky, his dimples coming out to play, his face lighting up the sky. And his eyes… like pieces of hot cocoa, brown and warm, soothing and kind, but could become like dark storm clouds when he was angered - like you saw yesterday in Elvira’s shop. Was that only yesterday? That meeting seemed a million years ago now.

Two hours before the party was set to start, Victoria announced that the two of you should rest up and then get dressed. Despite his earlier disagreement with Victoria about musicians and linens, Ralph happily clapped his hands, laughing and giggling, the joy spreading to your face.

“Ralph! Enough!” Immediately, Ralph stifled his joyful outburst. “God, I have a headache. I’m going to lie down,” she said, “I’ve got to do everything around here.” She turned on her heel and made her way back into the manse, disappearing between the sheer curtained doors and into the cool of the ballroom leaving you to watch Ralph as his joy slowly crept back into his face. You smiled shyly at him, encouraging his happy spirit.

Ultimately, you did as you were bid. Laying once again in that humongous bed, shoes off, day dress hung up to prevent wrinkling. You snuck under the bed covers to ward off the chill of the room and stared at the canopy above.

Charlie would have loved this bed. You imagined him hovering above you, as you often did when his memory would come creeping up on you. He had been taller than Ralph and his hair had been darker, his soul more somber. He had been so different from Ralph in so many ways, but not unlikable. He had been charming in his way and you had loved him with your whole heart.

You and he had been only ten months behind one another in age, you being the elder of the two of you. Charlie knew that once he was old enough, he wanted to join up. No one could say that your Charlie didn’t have the courage of his convictions. A butcher’s son, he wanted to move up in society and military service might do just that. Distinguished military service would definitely do it. At least, that had been his hope. A German bullet had had other ideas. You were left a widow after only being a married woman for a few months.

You had mourned Charlie for the full year you were supposed to according to society’s rules, but after that first year was up, the habit of mourning him had been set firm in your heart. Your parents encouraged you to seek other partners, men of good standing that presented themselves at the little parties your family and friends threw, but none of them reached you. None were so blindingly beautiful as Charlie had been.

And none could have given you the education in the bedroom that Charlie had. Many an evening was spent above the garage at the Hollingsworth house with his arms around you and soft words whispered into your ear. Charlie would finish up his work at the shop and cycle out to the house to meet with you under the trees in the garden. From there, you two would sneak off upstairs above the Deusenbergs and Rolls Royces in a tiny storage space that Charlie had set up as a trysting place.

A small lumpy mattress was your classroom, Charlie your professor. He not only taught you his body and how to pull the most lascivious sounds from him, but your own body as well. A body for which you had always held a certain detached familiarity. You had never truly explored yourself before Charlie came along. After he had woken up your senses for the first time one late spring night, you had thought of little else. Your own hands had learned your body by heart within weeks, but Charlie could always reach the deeper spaces that left you dizzy for days.

Charlie smiled down at you in your mind and he dipped down and kissed you deeply. You recalled his talent at it, the taste of him, the feel. Fading away, his face was replaced with Ralph, but it was a different feel with him. You had to lean up to him, for one. You imagined his lips were soft and plush. The taste of him was up for speculation. Would he taste of mint or sen-sen? Would he dart his tongue in tentatively or, once given permission, would he dive right in? Or would he know he could use his tongue at all? And where would his hands be? A gentleman’s position on your hips? Or all along your back? Or one in your hair and one on your ass?

You giggled. It was too much to imagine that Ralph would be anything but a bundle of nerves. He might think you a brazen hussy. And maybe you were. Charlie wouldn’t have cared. You could hear him laughing, cheering you on. You curled yourself into your pillow and let sleep take you, knowing Martha would be in to wake you and get you ready for the party in a few hours.

*******************

MASTERLIST LINK

Tagged readers: @h-ness1944 / @eddie-is-a-god / emma77645 / @hahahafucku / @paranoidmunson / @honey-eyed-munson / @mystars123 / @bl4ckt00thgr1n / @live-love-be-unique / @ becca-alexa

IF YOU WANT TO BE INCLUDED IN THE TAGGED READERS, JUST LEAVE ME A COMMENT! THANKS FOR READING!

#fanfic #writing #ralph penbury #ralph timewasters #joseph quinn #joe quinn #ralph x reader #ao3 author #ao3 #THSG #the hat shop girl

[seungminsbaldspot]

Our own Gallary

Pairing:  Jun x Reader 

Synopsis: its your first anniversary with your lover, wen junhui 

Spoiler: no spoiler for this one!

Word Count: 2,063

Genre: tooth-rotting fluff probably 

Warnings: cursing, just lots of fluff, Nicknames such as but not limited to “My love, Lover, My lover” , reader is an artsy person (loves to paint, and visit art museums) 

Note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BESTEST FRIEND EVER I LOVE YOU SO MUCH YOURE SO OLD HAHAHAH

“Wake up my love.” A kind, gentle voice says, and your eyes immensely flutter open. As your eyes flutter open, you are met with the man of your dreams. And your reality too. 

Wen JunHui is your lover. And has officially been your lover for one year now. Jun had previously told you that he was going to go all out for your first anniversary together, and he was not lying. 

When your brain focuses, you can smell the breakfast that Jun had prepared for you. “Breakfast my love.” He softly says, motioning towards the door. You always stood firmly by brushing your teeth after breakfast so, rolling out of bed and eating was not anything abnormal. 

Jun leads you to the table, where your favorite breakfast foods await you. “I prepared them this morning. I hope you enjoy them.” You smile softly at the tall man in front of you, kissing him on the cheek, “Thank you, my love.” He smiles, “Anything for you.” He says, sitting across from you, also eating his breakfast. 

Once breakfast was eaten, Jun stood up, “Now would you like to sleep again or go out?” He asked. “Sleep in, as always.” He smiles, “I knew you were going to say that. Go ahead and lie down. Let me clean these dishes and then I will be in there with you my love.” You nod, What a good man Wen Junhui is. 

As to his promise, after hearing the running after stopping, you feel the spot in the mattress beside you dip down. You feel his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you tightly to him. His warmth lulls you back to sleep. 

After an hour or so, Jun decides to wake you up once again, “My love?” He says, gently shaking you to wake you. Your eyes flutter open again, waking you to the beautiful man you call your lover. 

“We have the smallish bit of schedule to attend to.” Jun says, patting your head like a child. You only hum in response. You love it when Jun schedules dates and he has a bit of an itinerary to attend to. 

With a soft smile, you stretch and sit up, feeling the warmth of the morning sunlight streaming through the curtains. Jun hands you a cup of your favorite tea or coffee, perfectly brewed just the way you like it. The aroma fills the room, making the awakening even more pleasant.

As you sip your drink, Jun hands you a carefully crafted envelope. Inside, there's a mini itinerary for the day, detailing the surprises he has in store for you. The excitement builds as you read through the plans, and you can't help but marvel at Jun's thoughtfulness. 

The first item on the agenda is a visit to a nearby botanical garden. Jun has chosen this serene location for a romantic stroll amidst blooming flowers and lush greenery. Hand in hand, you explore the garden, occasionally stopping for Jun to surprise you with a heartfelt compliment or a gentle kiss.

After the botanical garden stroll, Jun has planned Lunch at a cozy restaurant with an amazing view. Jun has reserved a table by the window, allowing you to enjoy a delightful meal while taking in a scenic backdrop. The atmosphere is perfect for engaging in conversations and sharing laughter as you relish the delicious cuisine.

In such a pleasant setting, time seems to slow down, allowing you to fully immerse yourselves in the moment. The combination of good company, delicious food, and a scenic backdrop creates a lasting memory that you can cherish. 

As the afternoon unfolds, Jun leads you to a charming art studio where a painting class is about to begin. The studio is filled with natural light, and the scent of acrylic paints lingers in the air. The atmosphere is relaxed, fostering creativity and expression.

As you enter the studio, you notice an easel set up with a blank canvas, paintbrushes of various sizes, and an array of vibrant colors. Soft music plays in the background, adding to the soothing ambiance. Jun, with a warm smile, reveals that this painting class was chosen because of your shared love for art and creativity.

The instructor welcomes both of you and provides guidance on the painting project for the day. The subject is a beautiful landscape, and you feel a sense of excitement as you prepare to unleash your artistic talents. Jun and you share laughter and conversation as you dip your brushes into the paint and bring the canvas to life.

Throughout the class, you and Jun exchange tips, share thoughts on color choices and marvel at each other's unique interpretations of the landscape. The shared experience strengthens your connection and the love that the two of you have for each other. 

As the painting class comes to an end, you step back to admire the finished masterpieces. You're amazed at the beauty that emerged from a blank canvas, and at the beauty of the man before you. At the man who you love.

After the class, Jun planned on visiting the nearby art gallery to continue this wonderful anniversary date. As you walk hand in hand with Jun into the art gallery, you can't help but feel a sense of warmth and joy. The atmosphere is filled with anticipation and the promise of a delightful anniversary date. Jun's gesture of holding your hands and swinging them adds an extra layer of intimacy, making the experience even more special.

"I know you have been wanting to visit here for a while, my love," Jun says with a gentle smile. You return the smile, appreciating the effort he's put into planning this meaningful day. "This place is beautiful, Jun," you express, genuinely touched by the thoughtful surprise.

He hums in response, a contented sound that reflects the shared excitement of exploring the art gallery together. The two of you make your way to the section featuring sculptures, and Jun takes the lead. The room is filled with an array of three-dimensional masterpieces, each telling a unique story through form and texture.

Jun stops in front of a particularly striking sculpture and begins to share his thoughts. "Look at how the artist has captured movement and emotion in this piece," he remarks, his eyes reflecting genuine appreciation. You join in the conversation, discussing the intricacies of the sculptures and sharing your own interpretations.

Jun, with a keen understanding of your preferences, leads the way to a section featuring contemporary paintings. As you enter the space, you're immediately drawn to the vibrant colors, bold strokes, and intriguing narratives conveyed by the artworks on display. Jun smiles, pleased that he could tailor this part of the visit to your favorite art exhibits.

"Thought you might enjoy these," he says, gesturing towards the canvases that adorn the walls. The paintings range from abstract expressions to thought-provoking realism, each piece telling a unique story. Together, you begin to explore the details and nuances of the contemporary art on display.

Jun, knowing your appreciation for the finer points in art, points out subtleties you might have missed. The two of you engage in a lively conversation about the meanings behind the paintings, the techniques employed by the artists, and the emotions evoked by the different pieces. The gallery becomes a canvas of shared exploration and connection.

As you move from one painting to another, Jun's thoughtful choice of the contemporary art section enhances your overall gallery experience. You feel a sense of gratitude for having someone who not only values your interests but actively participates in them, making this anniversary date all the more special.

As you and Jun continue your exploration of the art gallery, you come across a section dedicated to photography. Jun's eyes light up with excitement as he discovers this part of the exhibition, and you can see the genuine enthusiasm in his expression. It's clear that the prospect of delving into the world of photographic storytelling resonates with him.

Jun leads you to the photographs, each frame capturing a moment frozen in time, telling its own unique story. The images range from candid shots to carefully composed scenes, showcasing the diverse perspectives of the photographers. Jun takes a moment to absorb the visual narratives, and then he turns to you with a spark of curiosity in his eyes.

"Photography has this incredible way of capturing emotions and stories in a single frame," he comments, his enthusiasm contagious. "Let's take our time and appreciate each one." The two of you begin to explore the photographs, discussing the composition, lighting, and the emotions conveyed by the images.

As you delve deeper into the visual stories, you find yourselves sharing personal interpretations and connecting with the photographers' perspectives. The photographic exhibit becomes a space for contemplation and conversation, adding another layer to your artistic journey.

Jun's genuine interest in the photographs enhances the experience, and you appreciate how this shared exploration deepens your connection. The gallery visit becomes not just a celebration of art but a celebration of the unique bond you share—a bond that finds expression in the stories told through both paintbrush strokes and the click of a camera shutter.

You really did love this man. 

As you both exit the gallery, Jun gently reminds you of the next surprise he has in store. The anticipation builds as you wonder what delightful dinner plans he has arranged for the evening. The thoughtfulness he put into the art gallery visit makes you even more eager to discover what awaits you.

You follow Jun to the dinner location, and as you arrive, you're greeted by a cozy ambiance and the enticing aroma of delicious food. The evening unfolds with shared laughter, delightful cuisine, and the joy of being in each other's company. The celebration of your love continues, seamlessly blending the appreciation of art with the warmth of shared moments.

In the quiet moments between courses, you reflect on the day and realize how much Jun's thoughtfulness and shared experiences have deepened your connection. The celebration goes beyond the material surprises, becoming a beautiful symphony of shared interests, love, and genuine companionship.

As the evening comes to an end, you can't help but feel grateful for the wonderful person by your side. The gallery visit and the carefully planned dinner become cherished memories, woven into the fabric of your relationship. You find yourself falling in love with Jun all over again, appreciating the effort he puts into making your time together truly special.

After the wonderful dinner, Jun holds your hand, guiding you to a little park across the street. He stops underneath a tree, turning and facing you. As Jun holds your hand, there's a warmth in his touch that reflects the genuine connection you share. His eyes, filled with affection, meet yours. The quiet rustle of leaves and the distant sounds of the city create a serene backdrop for what promises to be a special moment.

With a gentle smile, Jun begins to express his feelings, "Tonight has been incredible, and every moment with you feels like a work of art. From the gallery to this moment under the tree, I wanted to create memories that reflect the beauty and depth of what we have."

He pauses, allowing the words to settle in the air. The love and care he put into planning this anniversary celebration are evident, and you find yourself moved by his sincerity.

"I love you," Jun says, his voice carrying the weight of those three words. "And I look forward to many more moments like these, where we can continue creating our own gallery of memories."

The park, the tree, and the city lights bear witness to this declaration of love. In this quiet corner of the world, you and Jun share a moment that feels timeless, a chapter in the ongoing story of your relationship. “You’ve made this night literally so perfect. Not even just this night, this whole day. I have no idea how I was so lucky to end up with a man like you.” 

As you respond with your own feelings, the night becomes a canvas for the emotions you've shared, and the love you feel for each other deepens beneath the branches of the tree, in this little park that now holds a special place in your hearts.

tags: @todorokikettlephobia aka Kia aka my love aka my bestie aka my wife aka my pookie aka my bear aka my mate aka my boo aka my boo bear aka my honey bunches of oats aka my favorite sweater aka my favorite flavor aka my dear aka my…

#kpop #kpop boys #kpop fanfic #kpop imagines #svt x reader #svt #svt fluff #seventeen #svt jun #wen junhui #moon junhui #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seungkwan #hoshi #mingyu #wonwoo #jun

[lizardonatoadstool]

Oakie the Acorn is the Best Mascot Ever

I don’t even go to this school I just love them. Here’s an interview they did for SUNY Mascot Madness.

Oakie - SUNY ESF

Who are you, where are you originally from, and where do you do your mascot thing? I'm Oakie Acorn (they/them), proud representative of ESF and its Mighty Oaks athletic teams! I was “born” when I fell out of ESF's Robin Hood Oak which means my roots go back to the Major Oak in England's Sherwood Forest. Maybe that's why I'm so merry! While most of my mascot duties have me in Syracuse, I also pop in at our Ranger School in Wanakena and our satellite campuses in the Adirondacks and Thousand Islands.

What's a unique new thing (building, club, activity, employee, etc.) on your campus that you treasure? The newly renovated Marshall Hall is wonderful! Open since 1933, Marshall underwent a major two-year reno re-opening in 2023. We kept the classic features, such as the spiral staircase and auditorium, while updating the building to a state-of-the-art learning center with spaces tailored to the needs of today's students. The building is home to our Landscape Architecture, Environmental Studies, and mathematics programs. Along with great classroom and studio space, there are plenty of study nooks for students to tuck in and do work between classes or meet with friends.

If you could start your own club or major on campus, what would it be? Wow! Difficult question because ESF has so many unique clubs, activities, and majors already! That said, I'd love to start an a capella group – Oak-apella! I don't speak, but I have a song in my heart and would love to hear ESF students sing. Maybe I could do some interpretive dance while they sing.

What's your hidden talent that you haven't told anyone about yet? Anyone on campus at night might have seen me skateboarding. The other day I landed a kickflip over the gap and was pretty stoked. Sadly, no one was around to see it. Flicks or it didn't happen, right? We do have some talented campus artists who have drawn me and my board though.

What campus cheer gets you pumped up and why? (with great enthusiasm)  O-A-K-I-E!  They're our acorn can't you see?  Sprouting strong through day and night  We've got bark and we've got bite!    ESF Orientation Leaders chant this while they lead our newest acorns to convocation. I love hearing it echo off the campus buildings!

What sport would you play if you were a student-athlete? I would join the Bass Fishing team in a heartbeat! I know when you think “acorn,” you think “land-based,” but I'd love to get out on the water and drop a line or two. There's so much more to me than most people know.    I would look awesome in one of the Bass Fishing team jerseys – provided they could get me an XXXXXL.

Read any good books lately? The Climate Optimists Handbook by environmental activist Anne Therese Gennari is a great read. Her book is about empowering people to get excited about changing the narrative on climate change so we act from courage and excitement to co-create a better world. She totally gets the ESF vibe! She was our commencement speaker last May and inspired our graduates and their guests to Improve Our World!    And of course, Braiding Sweetgrass by our own Dr. Robin Wall Kimmerer is always close at hand to read again and again!

Favorite pizza topping? Mushrooms. I love to top my pie with things I've foraged in the woods. Remember, you have to be very careful with mushrooms. I always take along a friend who has taken Dr. Alex Weir's mycology course to ensure I don't eat anything that could make me sick or worse!

If you were SUNY Chancellor for a day, what would you do? I would declare every day Earth Day in SUNY and plant pollinator gardens on every campus. I would also help other campuses set and reach their own Zero-Waste goals. Sustainability is a key component to helping the environment. I would then ask to be Chancellor for a couple more days to visit as many campuses as possible and see all the great things SUNY students are doing.  I don't know how Chancellor King does it all! Does he ever sleep?

How would you celebrate being named SUNY Mascot Madness Champion in 2024? The same way I celebrated in 2017 when I won the title – surrounded by the best students, faculty, and staff ever! We had a party that the whole campus attended. My friend, Victor E. Knight from SUNY Geneseo, was gracious enough to come and present me with the trophy and join the festivities. I think it would be great to host Wolfie on campus this year. 

#oakie the acorn #SUNYESF #mascot #mascotmadness #queer #nonbinary #acorn #theySKATEBOARD #voteforOakie #environment #climate change #poll bracket

[notyour-valentine]

Headcanons for Arthur living a calm happy life in the country 💥💳💥💥💥💳💥💳😭

Arthur's life in the country ~ Headcanon

[Celebration] [Celebration Masterlist] [Masterlist]

Warning: mention of war, PTSD (18/21+). I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.

Arthur doesn’t just pack up and move to the country. Instead, he takes a task from Tommy which is distributing some money to the widows of old comrades. She lives in a very rural place, barely a village, with lots of farms around. 

Since it is so far away from everything else, she offers him some lunch, which he accepts. It is nothing special, nothing fancy, but honest food with vegetables that grew in the garden. He leaves. 

When it is Autumn, he arrives one time to see them readying the garden for the winter months and Arthur decided to help out with some of the heavy lifting

As a thank you he receives a large basket of produce. Not the fancy expensive London kind Tommy and Polly like so much, but homemade. 

From that point on, he is always asking if there are some things that need fixing or might need an extra hand, no matter with what. So instead of dropping off some money and only staying for a quick lunch, he starts to spend afternoons and dinners too before leaving

He isn’t hesitant to help out her neighbours too who are always grateful for an extra pair of hands. 

They don’t know him, so they don’t know the weight his name carries, or of the bad deeds he felt weighing on him. 

There is something about the physical work that calms him, it tires his muscles and soothes his mind, whether it is chopping wood, helping the neighbouring farmers with the heavy lifting, or something as menial as mashing strawberries for marmalade or planting vegetables. He even picks up woodcarving again on the days when there is less to do

It’s not profitable work, not really, but he can see the gains while he is working and that’s something. His hands create things now that are good, that are useful and the pride he feels from watching a seed he had placed grow into a plant that is able to carry fruit creates a feeling of satisfaction that is free from malice

Sure, it is quiet out there, less flashy, less noisy, but it had been such a long time since Arthur not only had the time but also the sense of safety and the inner calm to pick up a pencil again and attempt to draw. 

That is an addiction all on its own. 

Ada and Polly are suspicious, because this life is far from what they would ever desire and Tommy is not happy at all when Arthur announces that he will leave Birmingham for the country life. 

But Arthur won’t let the teasing get through to him and in the end they have to accept it, his absence for most of the year, the old furniture that isn’t as comfortable as their own luxury chaise longues from Paris when they do come to visit, and the baskets of homegrown produce he always gives them

The demons still come for him from time to time, but he has learned quickly that he can chase them away with things other than whisky, snow or fighting. Instead, he can go out and cut down a tree, chopping it down to firewood, or by building a shed. There is always work to be done out here, and by the time the exhaustion settles in his body, his terrors have melted away. 

It is a simple life, one void of ambition and while some jokes may remain, there are nights in which Tommy feels more envious of his brother than ever before, while he is sitting in a rocking chair at a fireplace burning wood he had chopped and dried, eating biscuits who had been freshly made and whose smell fill the whole house, who is no longer afraid of falling asleep to the sound of knitting needles, knowing he’d be woken by the sun and the sound of birds chirping. 

It is a simple life, yes, but it is also a good one. 

Thank you for requesting and participating in my celebration - I hope you liked what I wrote.

Thank you everyone for reading and as always, I hope you enjoyed and would love to hear your thoughts!

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[lucienarcheron]

Quiet Thunder - II [ Elucien ]

Prompt: This is a follow-up to part one of Quiet Thunder where Lucien expresses his frustrations to Elain post-ACOFAS. This is the Elain follow-up. |

Rating: SFW

Elain took a deep breath of a new day in Velaris. She paused in the busy streets and her eyes darted around the buildings, the color, and the different kinds of people roaming around her. 

Would she ever feel like she belonged? A lump formed in her throat and she tried to swallow it as she walked on. Elain tried. She tried to fit in and stay busy and be happy but every time she looked at herself in the mirror, she felt nothing but shame. 

Shame for who she had been. Shame for who she was now. Shame for allowing herself to cope in the only way she knew how, by ignoring it. 

Everything was different and yet, the same. 

She took another deep breath and walked on, her fingers gently rubbing the tip of her right ear; a new habit she had picked up when nervous. A habit that only kept reminding her of the differences in her body. A body that was hers yet not, a body she was still getting to know all over again.

Elain walked on, past the busy streets into a quieter neighborhood, where each of the houses burst with personality. She saw one, two, and three-story homes, with yards, picket fences, gardens, and treehouses. She smiled at those who smiled at her and nodded at those who didn’t. 

Would she ever get used to being so known like this? Would she go back to enjoying socializing and welcoming people into her life?

Elain sighed, as she did so often these days, and finally stopped in front of one particular home. A quaint, cottage-like home with a modest gate, surrounded by greenery. Wildflowers lining a white fence. Her heart thudded and her throat bobbed.  It was so lovely. 

Elain swallowed then slowly made her way to the front door of his home and stood. 

She stood and stood and stood. 

Elain stood, eyeing the white door and she wondered how long she’d been standing there; ten minutes or ten months.

It had been about three weeks since he’d come to see her and said all that he said to her but she hadn’t heard from him since. She may have only been standing in front of his home for these few minutes, but deep down, Elain knew she had been standing still in all aspects of her life for so much longer. 

“Feel better. Find me when you do.”

The words echoed in her mind now as she stood, rooted to her spot. Thinking back on the past year and some, so many things had just happened to her in her life and she had stood, passively letting it by. Had she just been lying in wait then? Waiting for something to push her story forward? To force her into action? 

She shook her head then and bit her lip. What was she so afraid of? He was giving her a choice. A chance. Free reins. He had made it clear from the very beginning, he wanted nothing more than a conversation and gave her the choice to decide when.

“If you don’t want anything to do with me, then that’s fine, but we need to discuss that.”

A decision she had the right to make. A choice given back to her to move her life forward, on her own terms. 

“I didn’t ask for this either and I’m not looking for you to love me. I’d just like to at least be your friend.”

A friend. A friend that would be tethered to her soul. 

Feyre had mentioned he was back in Velaris for the time being, to visit, to work, she wasn't sure. Elain had stopped listening after Feyre had announced his return, the first one of his since she last saw him. She had shot up and had finally decided — actually, decided on her next move. No one had questioned it.

As she stood here now, her grip tightened around the bouquet of flowers she had put together to give to him. Her gaze dropped to the rainbow of color in her hand; it was a mix of Scarlet Geranium, White Poppy, asphodel, and purple hyacinth. She tried to pick flowers that would express how she felt; there wasn’t a language she spoke as fluently as when she spoke in flower. 

She hoped he could translate her apology but then again, Elain wondered if he’ll even want anything from her. After all, she hadn’t been very kind to him.

“The least you could grant me, us, is a chance to talk about this.”

Elain closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Maybe she should go back. She didn’t know what she’d even say to him. What would they even talk about? Was there a point in moving forward if you didn’t know what direction to go?

“Elain?”

His scent hit her as she whirled around and found him standing a few feet back, a bag of goods in his hand. He blinked at her in surprise and she instantly flushed.

“Hello.” she said, eyes darting all around them before settling on him again and she held the flowers out. “These — these are for you.”

Once again, Lucien blinked at her in surprise and Elain’s flush deepened.

“Oh!” he said and hesitantly reached out to take them. “Thank you...I, um — hello.”

Their fingers brushed as he took the bouquet from her and the two shuddered. She eyed Lucien and by the look on his face, he had felt the shock of the touch too.

She curled a loose strand of hair behind her ear then clasped her hands together, took a small breath, and stepped back. “Feyre said it had been a while since you’ve been back to this home here. I figured flowers could...brighten it up.”

Elain watched him look down at the flowers silently and hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath until he chuckled softly and she loosened a sigh of relief.

“Thank you. I appreciate the thought.” he replied, meeting her gaze. “I went to replenish a few missing things.” He paused and she noticed how his fingers tightened around the bouquet as a moment of silence passed between them, then, “Would you like to come in?”

Elaine blinked. “Come in?”

“Yes.”

“Inside your home?”

“...Yes?”

 “...I don’t know if that’s proper.” she said breathlessly and watched his mouth slip into an ever so slight frown. “Unless!” she quickly added and he blinked. “Unless...it’s fine?”

“Of course it is.” he replied softly, his brows furrowed. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Elain bit her lip as she glanced at him. Their eyes met and they both immediately flushed again when his gaze narrowed on her lips. “I don’t know what the social etiquette rules here are.” she whispered. “I don’t want to overstep.” 

Lucien gave her a smile of understanding. “You could never overstep.” he said softly and she nodded silently, brows furrowed.  

A heartbeat of silence passed then,

“So... you want me to come inside your home?” she asked hesitantly, feeling her face heat all over again.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want you to.” he said with a small smile. “Did you think I’d have you at my door and not invite you in? Terrible manners that would be, wouldn’t it?”

She gave him an awkward smile. “To be completely honest...I hadn’t thought about what would happen after I got here.”

Lucien paused then, gazing at her, his eyes locked on hers and Elain felt a tingling sensation — as though he could see right through her. Right through her jumbled thoughts. She watched him nod, seemingly to himself then walked past her to open his door, gesturing for her to go in.

“If this is your way of instigating a night of sweet lovemaking, I’m afraid you’ll have to invite me for dinner first.” he replied with a cheeky smile. 

Elain froze mid-step, her eyes widened and her face flushing even deeper than before. Lucien’s eyes found hers and his expression shifted from a smile to horror, his body going rigid. 

“Oh gods.” he whispered and immediately straightened. “I’m so sorry Elain, I was only joking —I do it when I’m nervous — very inappropriate — I don’t want to make you uncomfortable – it was just — ”

But he stopped as she started giggling. 

Lucien watched her giggle uncontrollably, doubling over and his lips twitched, unsure of what to make of it.

“I thought I insulted you but I suppose I really am as hilarious as I think I am.” he said with a brow raised. “The idea of us making passionate love is just hysterical, hm?”

Elain sighed, wiping her eyes. He had caught her so off-guard with his statement, her own reaction surprised her. The man she’d been ignoring for over a year now was making jokes with her! About the two of them! Being intimate! 

The two stood and looked at each other, taking in the lightness of the moment. That he had made her laugh. It brought back the memory of the first time he had inspired a smile out of her.

“Of all the things I thought you’d say, that was definitely not it.” she finally said, looking away from him shyly. “I — it’s not very proper though, is it?”

“Mmm.” he mused, then chuckled. “Proper is selective in my arsenal but I’ll be sure not to scandalize you further with my jokes. I can be a gentleman for you.”

“I would think being yourself is the best policy.” she replied with a small chuckle and finally stepped into his home. Her eyes darted around his living space, taking it all in.

“Are you saying if I am being a gentleman, I’m not being myself?” he asked with mock offense and Elain snorted.

“Based on the things I’ve heard from Feyre? It’s debatable.”

“Asking Feyre about me, are you?” Lucien asked teasingly and Elain rolled her eyes. “I knew my wily charms would eventually come through.”

“There’s the snark I was warned about.” she muttered and he chuckled. 

Elain felt his eyes on her as she continued to scan his home. It wasn’t too cluttered. It was kept tidy and everything in the space had a practical use. Without having to look at him, she could tell her assessment was making him nervous.

“Is it alright if I close the door or should I leave it open in case you want to run after I crack another inappropriate joke?” 

Elain rolled her eyes, then turned to meet his gaze, her cheeks rosy once more. “I’m here, aren’t I? I made the choice to be.”

Lucien hummed softly and walked past her, placing both the bags and flowers on the small dining table. He paused then, “Yes. You did make the choice to come.” he said and braced his hands on his kitchen counter, clearing his throat. “But, forgive me for asking so bluntly and right away but — why are you here?”

Elain’s brows furrowed and she looked down, thinking exactly how to answer that. A moment passed then she looked at him, patiently waiting for her response. 

“You told me to feel better and then come find you.” she said quietly. “So I’m here. To talk.”

Lucien slowly nodded. “To talk.”

“Yes.”

He watched her and it unnerved her how assessing his eyes seemed to be, how assessing his eyes had been from the moment he saw her. Elain had often wondered just how the mating bond worked and had asked Rhys and Feyre so many times... but it didn’t quite make sense as much as it did at this moment. 

When he gave her a small smile and she felt a warm jolt in her chest. 

“Talking is one of my favorite things to do. I do love the sound of my own voice.” he replied with another one of his cheeky grins. “Are you hungry? I could make us something quick if you’d like. Or we can have a cup of tea?”

“I think tea would be lovely.” she said, a small smile and he nodded.

Elain watched him quietly as he moved about his kitchen and it was when she noticed the slight tremble in his hands as he filled the kettle she realized how awkward it must feel for him and how hard he was trying to make her feel comfortable. 

Elain could try and meet him halfway. She was a social butterfly. She could diffuse the awkward.

“Do you have powers — I mean abilities?” she blurted out and Lucien paused. “I think fire, yes?’

His lips twitched and Elain flushed at how silly the question was. Social butterfly indeed.

 “Yes, I do. Fire manipulation is one of them.”

She pursed her lips at the teasing smile he gave her. “Can you heat up the kettle without using actual fire then?” she asked, pointing as she moved closer to inspect. 

Lucien tilted his head as he watched her stand closer to him. Without taking his eyes off her, he put down the kettle then touched it and Elain watched in fascination as steam started emerging from it and then heard the bubbling of the boiled water.

“That must be handy.” she said lamely. 

“Please Elain, settle down. What will the neighbors think if they hear how inappropriately you’re flirting with me?” 

Elain scoffed and playfully shoved him then immediately froze at the contact. She slowly looked up at him and when he smiled at her she felt her whole body heat up.

“Sorry.” she mumbled and stepped back but Lucien only chuckled in response and playfully bumped her with his shoulder. 

“No apologies needed. Let me set up the tray and then we can sit outside by the garden.”

“You have a garden?” she asked and Lucien watched her whole face light up in excitement.

He paused then rubbed his neck with a sheepish smile. “It’s not in the best shape at the moment, considering I travel often but I had started growing some plants and vegetables,” he said then gestured with a hand. “Maybe you can give me some ideas on how to fix it? I know you enjoy gardening.”

“I’d love to!” Elain beamed then curled a hair behind her ear, her cheeks rosy. “It could be a fun project to work on — if you want to.” she began, gushing. “I really love the organization process of setting up a new space and knowing which plants to put next to what and you seem to have good space back there and —” 

But then Elain froze again. 

Had she just casually offered to work on a project with him? Someone she’d been actively avoiding for a year? 

She blinked.

Why was it so easy? 

She glanced at him, for Lucien had paused in place, watching her and Elain swallowed, her heart thundering. 

Why was it so easy to slip into a comfortable conversation? To joke? Like they were old friends?

“Because it’s supposed to be easy.” he answered her quietly and Elain startled, not realizing she had spoken the words to him. Lucien hesitantly reached out to curl that same strand of hair behind her ear that had fallen out of place in her excitement. “It’s okay, Elain.”

Elain watched him swallow and bring his hands back to his sides. Watched his hands flex then fist.

“I’d ask you how you could be so calm about this but I can feel your heart beating.” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I felt it the moment you set foot in Velaris.” 

“My body is in a constant state of fight or flight.” he said with a shaky laugh, running his own hand through his hair. “Calm is something I’m still getting used to.”

Elain looked at him then, really looked at him. She had always avoided looking at him directly but now, in a feeling she wasn’t entirely sure she was in control of, she stared bluntly. She let her gaze take in his fiery red hair, his sun-kissed skin, his one russet eye and his other metal one that was widened as he watched her watching him. Elain’s eyes scanned the scar on his face and her teeth clenched at the sight of it. 

But then she blinked. She had no right to be angry about it. They were hardly acquainted and yet...the tug between them was taut, clear as day. 

Elain watched him swallow again then casually gesture towards his eye. “Jurian likes to make a joke that if I add an eye patch, I’d make one heck of a pirate.” 

Another attempt at humor for her sake.

The corner of her mouth lifted. “You’d be a very eye-catching pirate, I’d think.” 

Lucien chuckled, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. “Elain, please control yourself. If not dinner, at least take me out for lunch before propositioning me. I’m willing to be a mid-day harlot if asked nicely.”

Elain huffed out an unexpected laugh then rolled her eyes at him. “You’re very arrogant.”

“Not annoying?” he asked cheekily and she snorted. 

“That too but arrogant felt more polite.”

“Polite with a bit of a bite, hm?” he asked again with a quirked brow and both her brows raised.

“I am a civilized lady.” she replied, the corner of her mouth lifting. “My bites aren’t so bad.”

“Hm.” he mused with a smirk. “In my experience, civilized ladies tend to have the strongest sting.” 

“Mmm.” she mused in return, glancing at him through her lashes. “Have a lot of experience with civilized ladies then?”

Lucien gave a casual shrug. “So, so.” he said and studied her. “But I do have to say, I haven’t met any like you.”

Elain paused then, realizing again how easy it was to — to flirt with him. She gave him a thin smile. “You mean one who is your...your mate?” she said with a bite to her tone.

“Definitely not, no.” he said softly.

And just like that, Elain felt the air become tense between them again and frowned in the silence that followed. She swallowed, unsure, and met her mate’s gaze. Lucien gestured gently towards the back door.

“Why don’t we head out to the garden and talk things out?”

Elain nodded tightly then made her way outside, a finger rubbing the tip of her right ear again. Her eyes flickered back to him and she bit her lip, watching him take a deep breath, his hands shaky once more. Taking in her own deep breath, Elain let her gaze scan his backyard space as she assessed her emotions. He had a small seating area but it was mostly neat with small semi-alive plants and vegetable patches. 

She took a seat. How was she feeling? Nervous? 

Definitely not as nervous as she had expected. He was as courteous as he’d always been. He was patient and seemed very kind. Lucien was funny and wasn’t pushy at all. He was trying so hard to make her comfortable. So why did she feel shame that it wasn’t going terribly? Shame that she didn’t mind sitting in his garden and waiting to talk to him? 

Shame as she thought of the man she once loved glaring at her in disgust for what’d she become. For even considering the option of accepting Lucien for what he was to her. 

“I feel it too, you know.”

Elain turned her head to see him approaching, a small tray in hand that carried tea and an assortment of cookies. 

“Feel what?” she asked, fiddling with her fingers, avoiding his gaze now. 

“Your shame. It feels nearly as crippling as mine.” he said quietly and slowly took a seat opposite her. She looked up at him.

“What do you have to be ashamed about?” she whispered and Lucien gave a humorless chuckle.

“My whole life has been a cascading waterfall of shame.” he said bitterly and Elain assessed his anger, his clenched fists. It was a moment before he spoke again and his hands relaxed. “I’ve lived with shame long enough to be able to tell you, with confidence, you have nothing to be ashamed of. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

Elain shook her head and gave him a sad smile. “I can’t stop thinking about him. His disgusted face the last time he saw me. How he ignored me after. I loved him enough that it’s given him so much power over how I view myself. He doesn’t know how much power he has over me and I allowed that. He definitely doesn’t care...but he still has power over how I view myself because I gave him so much of my love... How can you say I have nothing to be ashamed of?”

Lucien gave her a gentle smile. “Being so in love that you trust your partner to give them your world isn’t something to be ashamed of. He should be ashamed for letting blind prejudices take away from what you two had.”

Elain blinked rapidly, her lips trembling slightly and she avoided his gaze once more. He was understanding her too easily, feeling what she felt too easily. “I know I seem naive in my view of it but...before this all happened, I had already envisioned our life together. He...let that go. Maybe it’s because it was my first love that I’m taking it so hard but — but he should’ve fought harder for me.”

Lucien sat back, arms resting in his lap, his expression thoughtful. “It’s been a very long time since I’ve thought of anyone but her.” he said quietly. “She’s always in the back of my mind, even when I’ve attempted to take new lovers and it’s been a long time since I’ve met someone who views love the way it should be viewed. As something so pure. It’s refreshing.” 

She shrugged, not feeling particularly insightful at all. Every time she thought of Graysen now, Elain only felt stupid. 

Lucien leaned forward and tapped the table gently to get her attention and she met his gaze. “You know, I can feel whatever it is you’re feeling,” he said. “Nothing you feel is stupid. Your first love will always have a special memory or teach a specific lesson. Either way, it leaves a mark that you’ll remember.”

Elain looked at him, taking in his expression, and gently asked, "I thought...I thought mates couldn't handle talking about other partners. That you'd — you wouldn't take this well."

Lucien pursed his lips, brows furrowed. "I'm not a heathen without any self-restraint. You're also not an object that I own." he simply said. "I'd be an idiot to think someone as beautiful as you wouldn't have had any previous lovers, as did I."

Elain looked down, embarrassed of her assumption and of her question. Why had she just assumed he'd be awful to her? Why didn't she —

"It's okay, Elain." he said gently, cutting into her spiraling thoughts. "You can ask whatever you want. I'd be more than happy to answer."

She nodded and then softly asked, “Will it always be like that? You aware of how I feel?”

He nodded slowly. “Part of the bond’s magic is that you and your mate have a connection so deep and sacred, nothing will ever compare. You’re essentially two sides of the same coin, always in touch.” he explained and paused momentarily, licking his lips. “This past year...especially because I went in and out of Velaris often...I am very aware of how it has been for you.”

“Would this connection remain even if...even if the bond was rejected?”

Elain watched him flinch at the question and felt herself wince, knowing how touchy this was based on Rhys and Feyre’s explanations.

It took Lucien a few moments before he finally swallowed and answered quietly. “Even if the bond is rejected, the link is always there.”

It was a tense quiet before Elain broke the silence. Feeling like she owed him honesty, she only said, “I’ve been aware of how you felt as well but...I always ignored it.”

“I know.” he said with a sad smile. 

“It was never about ignoring you as it was...ignoring the situation.” she said quietly. “I’m sorry. It hasn’t been fair to you.”

“No, it hasn’t.” he agreed and the two sat in silence once more as Elain attempted to express exactly how she was feeling. She looked at him and when he gave her an encouraging smile, she flushed.  

“With everything that happened since the cauldron and everything that was taken from me and then given to me…” she quietly began then paused, curling a hair behind her ear. “Having you as my mate felt — it felt like another thing I had to take without having a say in. It felt like — as though — “

Elain paused again, anger flaring suddenly and she clenched her teeth. “I was in a body that was my body but not, with powers I didn’t understand and suddenly I had now become the possession of a man I didn’t know.”

“I have never once thought of you as a possession and will never think of you that way.” Lucien said softly. 

“While I appreciate you saying that...it still felt that way for me. Especially when I started realizing how the bond works. You...you made me feel things that felt against my will.” she whispered. “I didn’t like it that these instincts I wasn’t familiar with were taking charge with someone I knew nothing about and someone I wasn’t ready to know.”

“It can be very overwhelming.” he agreed. 

“Very.” Elain said with a frown. “Do...do you feel that way?”

Lucien chuckled and gave her a tight nod. “It’s worse for males. This stupid idea that we’re supposed to resonate with our animalistic tendencies and claim, protect. But I am not these tendencies nor will I ever let myself fall to them. I am more than that and you are more than that.”

Elain shied away from his firm gaze, understanding what he was trying to tell her. What he had been trying to tell her for the past year and it was as she sat in his garden, the sun shining down on the two of them that she finally understood. She looked up and closed her eyes for a brief moment, letting herself bask in the sun, as if it was here at this specific moment to remind her how much she needed this conversation to happen.

She’d spent the last year looking for the sun and trying to stand in it but it was only here, Elain actually felt it on her skin, warming her up.

“This feels nice.” she said quietly and opened her eyes to give him a smile, finding him watching her, slight awe on his face.

Once again, she felt the bond between them as he gazed at her but it didn’t feel as daunting as it had before.

Lucien looked away from her, a flush in his own cheeks. “Yes...it does. I do like it here. It’s the first home that’s actually mine.” he said with a small smile. “I’m not living on anyone’s property but my own for once.”

“You don’t feel lonely in it?” she asked, facing him fully for the first the time since they sat, her arms resting on the table.  

Lucien quirked his head in thought. “I think…” he began. “I think inherently, I’ve always been lonely. I was always on my own in the Autumn Court and the Spring Court was a little better but not great. I was Emissary and it was wonderful working with many different people but I also never felt like I belonged anywhere or was tied to one place. Except when I met Jesminda and then…” he waved his hand and Elain understood. He’d rather not dive into those memories.

She hesitated for a moment then, “I always felt a little lost in the middle between Nesta and Feyre. They’re both so strong and have such distinctive personalities. I was always just...the middle sister. Until I met Gray — until I met him.”

“You felt seen.” Lucien said, a knowing look on his face. “You felt understood.”

“Yes.”

“I know. I did too.” he said with a sad smile. “She saw me for all that I was and all that I could be.”

Elain’s sad smile met his. “She was the person you loved most, wasn’t she?”

“She was, yes.” he said quietly and Elain nodded.

“He was that for me. He saw me. He saw that there was more to me. He listened to things I had to say...it was easy with him. I thought he loved me.” she choked out bitterly. “He may have hated fairies but I was still me...still me just with pointy ears.”

Lucien gave her a half-smile at the attempt at humor, despite the shakey tone with which she said it.

“It turns out he didn’t see me after all.” Elain whispered and before Lucien could stop himself, he reached over, placing a hand on top of hers, and squeezed gently. Despite any initial reservations she had about him, Elain squeezed his hand back and took a deep breath. 

“Now I’m lost all over again...I’m trying to find my way back to myself. The old me isn’t enough anymore.” she continued with a shrug. “I’m too angry for it. The life I had and wanted was ripped away from me and I had no say. With everything that happened after, I still had no say and I hate it. I’m still processing and coming to terms with it...I have so much more to offer and deserve more. I — I don’t want to be reduced to just your mate. I want to learn how to be brave, brave to be me with all the changes that have happened.”

A breath rushed out of her as she spoke, the words she had been wanting to say for so long. They came out strong, clear, and Elain felt a rush of pride that she had not flinched away from him as she spoke. Felt a weight off her shoulders.

Lucien squeezed her hand once more with another encouraging smile, as if he too, had felt the pride she felt for herself. “Bond or no bond, Elain — this is what I want for you and for myself. You may be my mate but you are your own person first and foremost. I am my own person first and foremost.” he said firmly. “I’ve lived my whole life trying to be molded into what others want from me and now, I want to spend it on what I want for myself. If we decide to be mates, I want you to choose me. To be with me as I am. I’m not here to convince anyone to love me. I want to be a choice and deserve to be a choice. I am not a burden on you or anyone else.”

“But that’s what I want too!” she said, leaning forward and tightening her grip on his hand. “I don’t want this to be something we do because we have to, but because we want to. I need something this significant to be on my terms, something I decide. Something we decide together.”

“That’s all I’ve been trying to tell you since I met you.” he said with a small chuckle. 

“I know.” she said quietly, her cheeks heated. “I’m sorry I didn’t give room for it to be discussed. I was — am scared.”

“Don’t apologize. I understand.” he said. “There’s nothing I want more than for this to be a comfortable experience for us both. This is...new and different for me too. The mating bond will be what we decide on, as you said, together. I expect nothing more from you than conversation and friendship...if that’s something you’re open to. This will be at your pace. We can be brave together.”

She smiled at him then her gaze fell on their interlaced hands and she thought about this all for a moment. The idea of a mate didn’t have to be something burdensome or heavy. It could be friendship. It could be more. It could be nothing. They would decide it. 

A sense of ease washed over her, pleasantly surprised that he, Lucien — her mate, was the cause of it. This male who she had thought would be the cause of discomfort in her life had taken all her worries about this bond and eased them in one conversation. 

“I am open to that. I’d like to get to know you as a friend first.” Elain said with a shy smile.

“Elain please, calm yourself. What will the neighbors think?” he said with a grin and Elain laughed softly, pulling her hand away and slapping his lightly.

“They’re going to think the tea went cold and we haven’t even touched the cookies.”

“I can fix that.” he said, his grin widening as he pushed the plate of cookies towards her and let his hand settle on the teapot to heat it.

Elain rolled her eyes and chuckled. “I bet you work that trick into everything you do.”

“Stick around and you’ll find out soon enough, friend.”

She looked at him then, her gaze as firm as his, the two smiling at each other shyly. Elain thought back to the first moment she felt the tug from him, long ago in the House of Wind. It had been a strange sensation and at that point in her life, an unwelcome one. 

Elain found now, she didn’t mind the idea of having a friend that was tied to her soul. A friend that would understand her in a way no one else ever would. A friend that could...later on, be more. When she was ready. If they wanted to take that step. 

A step they would either take together or decide not to, together. A choice she would make. A decision she had the power in. 

Elain decided then that, no, she didn’t mind Lucien becoming her friend at all. In fact, as the sun continued to shine down on them and she basked in its warmth, she looked around his home and found herself at ease. As she looked at him, seated across from her, pouring her a cup of delicious-smelling tea, Elain found that she didn’t mind Lucien one bit. So she smiled again, taking the teacup he passed to her, and said, 

“I look forward to it, friend.”

#elucien #elucien fanfics #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #acotar fanfiction #gfics #fic: quiet thunder #previously: moononastring

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Family Values | Part One

Steve Harrington x Single Mom Reader

Summary: 3 years after the "earthquake" rocked through Hawkins and changed the town forever, it's now known as the Conspiracy Capital of the Country. Drawing in thousands of visitors a year to one specific spot, Steve Harrington's Hawk Shop: your one-stop shop for all your visit needs. Hawkins was essentially a ghost town if it wasn't for the wannabe journalists and demon hunters. And then Y/N moved in, buying the house next door to the Wheelers for herself and her 4-year-old daughter.

Warnings: AU set after season 4 and the Main cast all survived. lots of made-up lore, pregnancy assumptions, mentions of steves childhood and losing his parents in the earthquake, love at first sight, flirting

Word count: 2.5k

Masterlist

It was so strange to see a moving truck come into Hawkins, most of the time people were leaving. It was basically a ghost town now, the only real foot traffic they got was from conspiracy theorists, news reporters and people obsessed with strange “natural” disasters. 

The influx of guests coming through town inspired Steve to open his own novelty shop in one of the now vacant shops on the main road. Robin and Eddie made t-shirts and buttons inspired by the haunting events that took place in Hawkins, and you’d be surprised how well the Hellfire shirts sold after Eddie was in the news for murder for so long… the satanic panic was now the reason Steve made so much money. 

Most of their friend group never left Hawkins, if they did it was for school and they came back regularly. The Wheelers left their house to Nancy and Mike, packing up with Holly and their things before moving away. So did Robin’s parents… she lived with Steve above the shop now, but for a while, they both lived in Nancy’s basement. 

Steve lost his parents that night of the earthquake, he had no idea they were even home or why they’d be downtown when the earth opened up, but he lost them. Just like that he went from a single child to the only Harrington left in his family and even though they had their differences, not a day went by where he didn’t miss them both. 

He debated selling their house, he already came into possession of all their money and assets, including their business downtown, all of which he handed out to his friends. Eddie had a studio beside the novelty shop, Nancy and Jonathan took over the newspaper and even branched out to do an internet newsletter with help from Susie after she moved to town… and in a few months, Argyle would be opening up a pizza parlour with help from Susie’s sister Eden, who had a garden salad named after her on the menu. 

It was nice having everyone he considered Family all living in the same town still, Eddie and his uncle live above the studio, Argyle and Eden are above what will be their restaurant, and Dustin still lived with his mom, just with the addition of Susie and a few more cats. Lucas and Max moved into Steve's old house, equipped with a ramp for her wheelchair and a bedroom on the first floor, Joyce, Hopper, El and Will also lived there for a small price of taking care of the property and making sure Max was okay when Lucas was away at school. 

Steve kinda made it his mission to take care of everyone who loved him. It was about time a real loving family lived in that house… 

He watched the moving van through the shop window, it travelled down the main street and turned onto Cornwallace. They must’ve bought one of the many houses left vacant up there. It was really only Nancy and the Sinclairs that still lived north of the epicentre. The main crack ran through the centre of Hawkins, all colliding at the town hall which was still in shambles. The bell could still ring, only no one was able to get inside to ring it ever again. 

The vines that were once Vecna were now nothing but stone, adhered to buildings they touched as if welded in place, a forever marker of what tried to destroy them all. 

It was ugly, there was no explanation for what happened and no one would believe them anyway. They simply made do in the town that raised them, the town they almost died to save, it was their home and they weren’t going anywhere. 

Steve's mind wanders back to the moving van throughout the day, intrigued by who these new people could be. Would they have children Erika’s age to repopulate the high school? Was it a newly married couple taking advantage of the absurdly cheap real estate they had to offer? Was it a single dude or a single woman? He wanted to know so bad. 

Luckily for him, he’s the only store open past 6pm that offered everyday essentials. Most people used him as a corner store, so he kept milk, eggs, pop, candy bars, breakfast essentials, canned foods and bread. Not always fresh, but he sold it anyway. No matter what anyone said, he really loved his little store. 

A woman he’s never seen before pushes the door open, letting her toddler in first and then following. “Hi,” the little girl waves at Steve. 

“Hello, Welcome to the Hawk Shop,” he waves back with a smile. “Anything I can help you with?” 

“Yes actually,” she leans down and picks her daughter up. She walks over to his counter and sighs as the child rests against her hip. “We just moved here and I was wondering if you know of a restaurant or anything around? I didn’t have time to hit the grocery store before it closed and we haven’t had dinner yet…”

“We, unfortunately, don’t have a restaurant in town, yet. We’re getting a Pizza place soon, but until then, I do have some food here,” he explains before he leads them around to the back aisle. “Does she like spaghetti o’s?”

“She loves them,” she bounces the little girl a bit, making her laugh even with her thumb in her mouth. “Too bad we can’t make a grilled cheese with it, that’s her favourite.” 

“I have some Kraft cheese slices upstairs in my apartment, I’ll throw in some bread for free too, as a welcome to the neighbourhood gift,” he really didn’t mind helping them out, he would do the same for any parent that came in, even if they weren’t beautiful. 

“You don’t have to,” he waves it off, not wanting to put him out. “We can do with just some soup tonight.” 

“I insist, wait right here!” He runs upstairs to his apartment, thanking god that Robin did a decent grocery shop the other day. He grabs some cheese, a brand new tub of margarine and the softest bread he had before running back to the shop. 

He brings it all over to the counter where they’re waiting with two can’s of spaghetti o’s and a smile. 

“Thank you,” she gives him a sweet smile. “Really, this is so nice of you, she was so hungry.” 

“Big girl like you? I bet!” Steve uses his kid voice with her. “You’ve gotta eat lots of grilled cheeses if you want to grow up to have strong bones and a beautiful smile like your mom's…” 

She gives him a sweet smile, “thank you… how much do I owe you?” 

“$2.25,” he does the quick tax math in his head, only counting the canned goods at a dollar a piece. She hands him a fiver anyway. 

“Keep the change, please?” She insists. 

He nods, “okay… come back for whatever you need. I’m here all the time and if I’m not here I’m probably just upstairs or next door…” 

“Have you lived here long?” 

He nods as he packs all their groceries into a paper bag. “My whole life. It’s been pretty crazy… but I like it here.” 

“We like it so far, don’t we, Lisa?” She asks her little girl. 

Lisa was a beautiful name, very common among girls her age now, but it fit her well. The little girl nodded her head, “we have a swing set at our house.” 

“Oh wow, you’re lucky,” he lets her live in the childhood wonderment of a new toy. Not overshadowing it with the fact he grew up with a pool… sometimes he missed that old part of his life and being a kid. But at least his 6 adopted buttheads were enjoying his old house now. 

“We’ve gotta get home and eat before bed, but thank you for all this, seriously,” she smiles. 

“Have a good night,” he waves them off, watching them leave happy.

Every part of him wanted to know more. Was it just the two of them? Did that little girl have a dad? Was her mom looking for someone to spend her life with? Cause if she was he was willing to do anything for her… most people would say Steve had a problem when it came to claiming he was in love at first sight, but something felt different this time. 

—

When his shift comes to an end, he locks up and grabs his things, headed for Nancy’s. Robin was off at school for the week, so it wasn’t like he could talk to her about it, and sure Vicky was at the apartment but that would be weird… they weren’t that great of friends even if they were around each other all the time because of Robin. 

Nancy was probably the only other person who understood him, and she also didn’t mind when he dropped by. Usually, he parks in the driveway beside her house, no one lived there, until today… his mystery woman was Nancy’s new neighbour, currently standing on the patch of grass that connected their two properties, meeting the woman Steve couldn’t stop thinking about. 

Nancy has a trash bag in her hand, the moon is just bright enough that he can see them both smiling as they talk, so he parks on the side of the road and hypes himself up enough to join their conversation. 

“Steve, hey!” Nancy waved to him once he got out of his car. “This is Steve, he owns most of the town…” 

“Most of the town?” She repeats Nancy's words. “I knew he worked at the novelty shop—

“How’d you know that, already?” Nancy asks. 

“I went over to get some spaghetti-o’s for dinner and he kindly gave us everything we needed to make grilled cheese too, Lisa was so happy, by the way,” she beams a smile at him. “I’m Y/N, by the way.” 

He extends his hand to shake hers, her skin is so soft, that he can’t help but linger while they look each other up and down. Nancy can tell already that this is going to be a thing, she knew that look in Steve's eyes, and surprisingly, Y/N had it too. 

“You guys settling in okay?” he finally asks. 

She nods, slowly pulling her hand away from his grip, “yeah, I just saw Nancy bringing the trash out and had some questions about getting rid of all my cardboard…” 

“You can bring it by the shop,” Steve offers. “We have a huge dumpster, it’s no problem.” 

“You’re too kind,” she can’t help but smile. 

“You don’t know the half of it,” Nancy boasts on his behalf. “Sure he owns most of the town, but he’s given it all to anyone who’s stayed in town. For example, his parents used to own the building that was the Hawkins post and now me and my husband run the newspaper and our other friend owns the Hellfire Studios, if Lisa’s interested in learning the guitar, Eddie is the best teacher.” 

“Wow, that’s amazing,” she’s blown away. “By any chance do you know who used to own the Motel 6? I’m trying to buy it…” 

“No, sorry,” Steve turns to Nancy, who also shakes her head. “But I’m sure I can help somehow?” 

“I’m sure,” she laughs. “You get off on helping people or something?” 

“Or something,” he’s honest with her, getting caught up in her beautiful eyes and how they glistened in the moonlight. 

“Um, Steve?” Nancy brings him back down to earth, “did you come over for something?” 

“Yeah,” he clears his throat quickly. “Robin's not home till Friday, so I thought I’d come over here to hang for a bit, is that okay?” 

“Yeah, absolutely,” she doesn’t care. “Can you put this in the can?” She pints at the garbage bin at the end of their driveway, handing him the black plastic bag. 

“Sure thing,” he takes it without another word. 

“I’ll let you go then, it was nice meeting you, Nancy,” Y/N waves her off. “You too, Steve.” 

“Hopefully we can talk more soon?” He asks while walking back down the driveway. 

“I’d like that,” she agrees and then skips back to her house. 

She gives him one last wave from her porch as Steve goes into Nancy’s house, further cementing the feelings he had for her already. He’s barely inside Nancy’s place 5 seconds when she’s jumping on him for answers. 

“She’s lived here 5 minutes and you’re already trying to get in her pants?” 

“I am not!” 

“You were practically eye fucking each other,” she exaggerates with the roll of her own eyes. “Seriously Steve, she’s a mother of 2.” 

“Two?” His eyes grow wide, “she only brought Lisa into the shop tonight?” 

“She’s clearly pregnant right now,” Nancy, of course, would notice that. “Did you seriously not see her stomach?” 

He shakes his head, “no, I was too busy helping her… I saw she had a kid and my brain went into provider mode. You know how I get, any kid that comes into my store could literally walk out with anything they wanted, I’m a sucker for happy families.”

“I mean, it doesn’t seem like she has a partner,” Nancy clues him in further. “The moving van didn’t have much in it, and it was just the two of them unpacking it all, so she could very well be looking for a step-dad for her kids?” 

“That’s what I was thinking,” he keeps his voice low. “That’s what I came to talk to you about, I didn’t expect her to be your new neighbour.” 

“And she’s trying to buy the motel?” Nancy recalls. “Weren’t you talking about investing in restoring it so that more people will be interested in travelling through Hawkins?” 

“Yeah,” he can’t help but smile. “I’ll call my guy down at the historical society, I’m sure he can help me get in contact with whoever still owns the property.” 

Nancy and he walked through the house, towards the kitchen where Will, Mike, El and Jonathan are all sitting around the kitchen table, having a few bowls of ice cream. “Hey Steve,” Jonathan notices him first, and the others give him a small wave. 

“Hey,” he takes a seat beside him, “did you meet the new neighbour yet?” 

“No, did you?” 

“We both did,” Nancy announces, “she’s super sweet, her name is Y/N and she has a little kid too, I think she said her name was Lisa?” 

“Yeah,” Steve smiles again. “She told me she’s really excited to have a swing set now.” 

“Those swings are awesome,” Will adds, remembering the good parts of his childhood that he had here, “we used to use them all the time whenever Mr. and Mrs. Linder weren't home.” 

“She’s really pretty,” Steve swoons. “Like, the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen in my life.” 

“The kid?” Mike asks, eyes wide in shock before Will smacks him. “Her mom, idiot.” 

Steve manages to laugh, “her name’s Y/N…” 

“That’s pretty,” El hardly had much to add but she smiles at him. “You’d make a good stepdad.” 

“Thanks,” it warms his heart. “I’ve always thought so, too.” 

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