#i have a newfound love for skylights

[anikaluv]

TRY ‘EM ON —

❤︎︎ pairing: Miles (e!42) × sanrio!fem!reader

❤︎︎ genre: fluff

❤︎︎ cw: too much cuteness, reader is a lil’ whiny (it’s only because Miles spoils her too much), suggestive, reader is also referred / described as a lil’ cutie <3

❤︎︎ summary: You were shopping in the mall and happen to step upon a matching hello kitty underwear set in your favorite lingerie store. You couldn’t resist, so you bought it, now the problem is how to get Miles to wear them.

❤︎︎ w/c: 1.9k

❤︎︎ a/n: Im a sanrio girl myself, and I think it would be cute imagining the reader always trying to pull Miles into her obsession and him just letting it happen cause he loves her <3

The mall bustled with activity around you, various of sights and sounds flooded your senses. The air hummed with excitement as shoppers weaved in and out of the shops. Sunlight streamed through the skylights above, casting a warm glow on the polished floors.

Yet you felt nothing but mournfulness.

Sipping on your boba tea, you felt full of apathy, usually the mall made you feel so happy, yet this time you lazily walked through the mall groggily, dismissing anything that usually allured you.

It felt different without your boyfriend with you, you thought. Usually, he would attentively nod along to your endless rants, entertain you with his charming humor, and willingly accompany you to all your favorite stores without a hint of complaint. His comforting arm wrapped around your waist the whole trip, you missed him.

You asked Miles to join you, but as usual, he claimed to have "important business”— meaning that it was non-negotiable. You were whiny about it at first, but Miles assured that he would make it up to you, just as he always does.

While heading down the escalator, you were contemplating if you should just end this trip early and head home.

Then you saw it.

"LOVER MATCHING SETS: 60% OFF!" Your grin spread across your face as you spotted that your favorite lingerie store was having a sale for lovers, and getting something for you and Miles would surely get you out of your funk.

Mind set on a new mission, you giddily stroud towards the apparel store eager to check out what they had.

As you walked in, a wave of fruity scents lingered through the air, along with mainstream pop music bursting from the speakers.

The friendly clerk behind the counter greeted you with a smile, to which you responded with a nod of acknowledgment.

Assortments of all kinds of bras and lingerie were laid out at all different stands, adorned with detailing of how much off the price was discounted. You slowly walked through the shop, gravitating towards different stands that caught your eye until you made it to the lover set area.

You inspected each of the brands, they were cute, but they just weren’t what you were looking for.

Your shoulders slumped as you let out a deep sigh, you started to believe it was no hope until you reached the end of the stand.

“[BRAND NAME] X HELLO KITTY: MATCHING COUPLE SET.” You instantly smirked, mischievous glowing in your eyes.

It was perfect.

It was a matching panty and boxer set, colored in baby pink and littered with the face of Hello Kitty all over it. You tried to imagine Miles in the boxers and it brought a giggle out of you.

Miles was well aware of your deep fascination with Sanrio, and he wholeheartedly embraced it, going above and beyond to indulge your love with plushies, clothing, and various other items.

However, there was a part of you that desired to test those boundaries, to explore just how far his support for your addiction would stretch.

You eagerly approached the checkout counter, clutching the set in your hands. With a sense of urgency, you swiftly swiped your card. The clerk packaged the item in a small bag, and you walked away from the store, receipt in hand, feeling excitement, clutching your newfound prize.

Your keys jingled as you retrieved them from your purse, the spare key Miles had given you months ago unlocking the Morales home.

Aware of Mrs. Morales' overtime schedule, you guessed that if Miles was finished with his "important business”, he would likely be the only one present.

"Baby, are you here?" Your voice echoed through the apartment, the silence that followed for a mere five seconds evoked a little worry in you that Miles hadn’t return.

Approaching Miles' door, you knocked loudly, causing it to open slowly, revealing Miles on the other side. "Hey, mi sol, sorry if I couldn't hear you; I had my headphones on," he explained, his hand gracefully finding its place around your waist as he tenderly kissed your forehead. In response, you leaned up on your tiptoes, meeting his lips with a loving kiss.

"It's okay, you're not doing anything, right? I have something I want to give you." You lifted the bag from the lingerie store, shaking it while holding it up for him to see, and Miles let out a chuckle. "Oh? Did my chiquita buy something for me?" he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity. He stepped aside, allowing you to enter his room.

Rolling your eyes playfully at his comment, you hurriedly walked into his room and settled onto his bed. Miles followed behind, moving slowly as he took a seat in his desk chair. "So, what did you get me, ma?" he asked, raising an eyebrow while eyeing the bag in your hands.

A genuine smile illuminated your face as you handed him the bag. "While I was at the mall, they had this sale for lover sets," you explained. Miles smirked, “Oh yeah?,” he asked, rubbing his hands together, probably expecting a seductive lingerie peice for you and perhaps some fancy boxers for himself.

His smile quickly faded.

You erupted with laughter as he revealed the pink boxers, the sheer absurdity of it pushing you to the brink of tears. He released a groan in an annoyed manner, tossing the bag onto the floor.

"Do you like it, baby?" you asked, your tone teasing. Unfortunately, he didn't hear your question, too occupied with having a stank face towards the underwear, which only made you laugh harder.

Miles scowled and let out a sigh, realizing that this whole situation was providing you with great amusement. "Baby, I love you, but I ain’t putting that shit on," he declared, his tone laced with distaste.

The laughter you once had stopped. You couldn't help but pout, gazing at him with your most prettiest eyes. "Come on, Miles, you promised to make it up to me for not coming, and this is how you can." You clasped your hands together, attempting to look like you were begging. He sucked in his teeth, watching you intently, well aware that he could never say no to you.

Miles lowered his head, silently cursing to himself, as he reluctantly accepted the situation at hand. "Fine, but only if you try ‘em on first, ma," he agreed, nodding towards the panties that were still nestled in the bag.

Blushing slightly, you slowly rubbed the back of your neck. "Fine," you replied, accepting the offer. With that, you sealed the deal and made your way to the nearby bathroom to change. Gliding into one of Miles' oversized shirts and slipping the panties, you took a moment to gather yourself.

"What's taking so long, hermosa?" he called out to you jokingly. You frowned at his comment, confused at how the tables turned so quickly. You yelled back to him, "Just a moment!" Emerging a few seconds later, you stepped out to reveal your changed appearance.

As soon as you walked out it was like Miles’ eyes were all over you. "Damn, angelita," he whispered, his voice dripping with seduction, causing a playful giggle to escape your lips. "Do a lil’ turn me f’me, baby," he requested. Raising the shirt slightly to reveal the panties you wore, you slowly turned, teasingly showcasing them from the back. As you observed his heavy breathing, a rush of warmth spread through your body, flushing your skin.

Unexpectedly, his hand reached up and firmly grasped your ass, eliciting a gasp of surprise from you. "You should wear stuff like this more often, mami," he chuckled, a glint of desire evident in his eyes. You swore his pupils dilated with intensity. "You look incredibly hot in this," he added, his words dripping with attraction.

You flashed a playful smirk and slyly winked at him. “We’ll see,” taunting evident in your voice. You forced your mind to focus back on the real show, "Alright, now it's your turn to try on yours," you teased, a mischievous grin on your lips. You observed how his jaw clenched; you knew it would all be worth it soon.

Miles took a while to put the underwear on; you were slightly worried he was trying to talk himself out of it. Eventually, you heard grunts and shuffling, so you knew he was changing, and eventually, he came out.

That shit looked hilarious.

You couldn't help but let out a snort the moment Miles walked out. Aware of his discomfort, you tried to stifle your laughter, but it was impossible. The mere sight before you was too much to handle. Your laughter grew uncontrollable, causing you to nearly tumble off the bed in fits of howling amusement. In response, Miles shot you a deadpan expression, retreating to his desk chair while you held on tight to your stomach, struggling to contain the laughter that churned in your stomach.

Wiping away tears of laughter, you composed yourself and sat up straight, posing the question half-seriously, "So, do you approve?" Your smile widened as you observed him arching an eyebrow, silently conveying his disbelief. He let out a deep sigh and responded, "They're aight, mami."

A sense of reassurance washed over you, causing you to clap your hands and let out a gleeful giggle. "Mission accomplished!", you cheered, brimming with happiness. It was in that moment that a grin spread across Miles' face. Despite his usual annoyance to your playful antics, he couldn't deny that witnessing that adorable smile on your face made it all worthwhile.

Miles swiveled in his desk chair, extending his arms invitingly towards you. “C’mere, pretty girl,” he called to you. You eagerly rose from your seat and straddled him, looking as cute as always. “Yes, baby?” you asked, head tilting like a puppy in confusion.

His words exited his mouth with fondness and loving. “Just wanted to get a closer look at my girl”, he confessed, his voice laced with calm, soothing reassurance. Gently, he placed his hands on your waist, and you instinctively leaned into his touch, encircling your arms around his neck.

As you began to excitedly rant about the other lover sets you saw while at the lingerie store, Miles listened intently, his fingertips tracing gentle circles on your hips. At one point, you turned your head and felt his gaze upon you, filling your heart with warmth and causing your cheeks to flush. Your words stumbled and you averted his gaze, unable to meet his affectionate eyes. A soft chuckle escaped Miles as he observed your flustered state.

"Thank you for going out and getting something for me, mi reina," he expressed, his voice filled with gratitude. You placed a light peck on his nose and snuggled into his neck, feeling the comforting embrace of his presence. "I think you look cute in ‘em," you admitted honestly. Miles shook his head playfully at your remark, nuzzling into you and humming a soft melody, creating a intimate atmosphere for the both of you.

.

.

.

“But for real though, these boxers are ass.”

“Miles don’t make me pop you.”

EXTRA: Miles was diligently working on his prowler claws in his base, engrossed in conversation with Uncle Aaron about future targets and jobs. As Miles rose to his feet, his pants slipped slightly, exposing the underwear he had on.

“Yo, Miles, what the hell is that?” Uncle Aaron burst into laughter, his eyes fixated on the sight of Miles wearing baby pink boxers.

Miles eyes widened in confusion, until he looked down and realized what Aaron meant.

"Just a lil’ something my girl got for me," Miles responded, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement and a knowing smile.

By the way, the boxers like looked this, lmaooo. Just wanted ya'll to get a lil' visual.

ENDING A/N: Hope ya’ll enjoyed this one <3 Was gonna add a grinding scene where you and Miles grinded against each other in the underwear while you were straddling him, but someone has already flagged me on here so I’m trynna keep it on the down low rn 😂

TAGLIST: @janaeby @bellstwd @nmgstuff @axeoverblade @zaddyskye69 @agstuffsworld

TAGS:

#anika❤︎︎writes #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse #prowler miles #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles fluff #atsv miles #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles x reader

[clearviewskylight]

Illuminating Your Space with Illume Skylights in Perth

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Illume Skylights has been at the forefront of the skylight industry for years, providing innovative solutions to homeowners seeking to maximize natural light in their homes. Here are some compelling reasons why Illume Skylights Perth is a top choice:

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Perth homeowners have embraced Illume Skylights for several compelling reasons:

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When it comes to transforming your Perth home with natural light, Illume Skylights Perth is the name you can trust. With their innovative technology, energy-efficient solutions, and commitment to customer satisfaction, they are the premier choice for homeowners seeking to illuminate their living spaces. Say goodbye to gloomy interiors and hello to a brighter, more vibrant home with Illume Skylights. Experience the magic of natural light in Perth today!

#Clearview Skylight

[minalune-lettersto]

December 26th, 2015

This is a little something I wrote for a contest last year. It was published by the magazine but I wanted to share it and see how you guys like it

...

The doors open as if by magic and I am there, my sanctuary. My place of peace is a combination of glass, wood, and steel. As I first walk in I am greeted by a colorful display of glass forming a river filled with fish. The colored glass lets the light in as red, blue and yellow. I look down at the floor; it is a mosaic of blue and green glass. Smiling I walk through the second set of magic doors. As they open a whoosh of air escapes, letting the magic flow out. I am in my own quiet world now. Surrounded by my best friends and worst enemies.

The glass wall to my right bends the light and lets it land softer than the light originally was on the various objects and Listeners, like me, listening to their chosen stories. "It is called french light" one of my friends whispers gently in my ear. To my left there are rows and rows of my accomplices, one right after the other, spanning across the area leaving each section a space of its own.

I step softly, as to not disturb the magic, towards my favorite section. The teenagers with their lives taken over by supernatural occurrences and traumatic life experiences that they somehow live through only to learn from. They live the perfect lives, so different from my own; I get lost in the stories they tell me. They sit there grouped neatly together silent as I approach them. Their clothes are what attracts me. Their personality and story shows through their clothes in a way that is unique to each one.

I see familiar faces as I search for the perfect journey. Smiling I touch their shoulders in friendship or wrinkle my nose others I did not like. They stay silent as they take my silent criticism with acceptance. I walk around them though beams of light coming from the skylights sometimes asking a few questions to those who look interesting. I tap their shoulders twice as a silent "I want to know more, come with me." I help them up and I keep looking.

As I browse I can feel their stares on my back, begging me to finish so they can shout their story to me. With every shoulder I tap, I can feel the weight become heavier. Soon it is too much to bear. Just as I am about to start listening to the stories screaming to be heard, I find it. It is not too colourful but you can tell this personality has conviction and it's the "real deal". So excited, I help this newfound friend up and walk over to my place of light coming it's from the skylights, all of my heavy friends following me. When I sit they sit around me, eyes alight and mouths parted ready to shout. They are waiting for my command. I smile as I re-examine each one looking for the best but I keep my eye on the last one I helped up. They all want it to be them but my friends know that I am a highly selective person because I have been doing this my whole life, listening to stories since I learned how to communicate with them. They all know which one I will pick but their hopes are up never-the-less. Giving up the ruse I chose my strong friend, the last one. She does not have that same eager look as the others. She is sullen. A picture of stone ready to crumble if touched. I look into her eyes and ask for permission. Sealing herself she speaks, "I am not a story of love. Neither am I one of supernatural beings. I am about loss and despair. I never work through my problems or have a happy ending. I am alone. I have become strong from my struggles. Please listen with an open mind and please try to come out with with a better understanding of how to be a better person. Not only to yourself but to other people."

Her eyes are wide and wet as she tells me her story, never submitting her voice to the emotion building behind her eyes. She still keeps that silent conviction behind her words. I listen intently losing track of time. Soon the day has gone and I am the last Listener left as she finishes her story.

Blinking tears out of my eyes I say thank you and place her back in her spot. Gathering the remainder of my friends I make sure the Keepers know they are with me. I walk back through the double doors, keeping an eye on my friends following me. They seems to wilt as we leave the magic. We continue walking toward the final doors past the mosaic floor and the river of glass until we reach the doors. By this time they are hanging on me; unable to stand on their own. I brace myself as the doors open and they all fall into my arms.

Sighing, I readjust my books, my heavy friends, in my arms, and I step out of the library, my magic library, and into the real world.

[sfaces]

Mother’s Commitment Part 1

CONTENT WARNING FOR SERIES: Violence, Mentions of abuse, Fictional elements, Gore, Child and animal death.

Fandom: Resident Evil 3 Remake

This will be posted on archiveofourown as well. Username is parasitesevil

—————————————————-

The figure shuffled behind the curved desk, careful of the stacked books that balanced precariously on the edge. Dark mahogany wood shone in the sunlight, the librarian settling into the creaky leather chair and holding back a sigh. She had come in early due to the library being short staffed, which is why the beginning of sunrise had only started to leak through the skylight high above.

If one looked beyond the old chair and desk, they would see the back room cracked open with a wedge placed in the empty space. Similarly, a passerby would see a mass of bodies huddling together in a makeshift bed as the morning draft trickled through the skylight, soft huffs and whines coming from the oldest. The librarian unpacked her bag sluggishly, pulling out the headphones that she had gotten as a gift from her children along with her favorite book. They were the kind that drowned out noises, the volume nearly bursting her eardrums and the cheesy romance novel that mothers were made fun of for reading. The simple gifts brought her joy, among raising her beautiful children.

She spun in the chair after setting everything down, jumping when her oldest stumbled towards her in exhaustion. With an eyebrow quirked, she reached towards her 16 year old with a found gentleness as the young body swayed. See, Nick was not gentle to begin with. She was not careful or gentle or understanding. She was none of these things, not until she had children that she owed her entire life to. She enjoyed the opportunity to be kind and sweet to her offspring, and she was never quite like her ex husband who was the exact opposite of her.

Loud. Scary. Bad. Nick refused to be like him. With a newfound sadness, she called to her daughter.

“Katie? What are you doing up sweetheart?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Nightmares? I’m sorry”

“It’s fine…” Kathrine rubbed the brewing tears away, nightmares still stuck on replay. “How are Tommy and Angel? Okay?”

Katie leaned forward with arms open, catching her mother in a tight hug. She rested her head on the sitting woman’s shoulder, nodding at the question. Nick appreciated the response, used to the silence from her daughter. After a few comfortable moments of quiet, she heard the mumble whispered into her skin.

“Mom?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think the nightmares will ever stop?”

She pulled away from Katie in contemplation. Nick smiled the best she could and nodded. “I’d hope so. We will get through it together, okay my love?” Kathrine wrapped her arms around her narrow form. Her gaze was stuck on the ground where her mother’s phone lit up with messages from family members and news reports. If the message from her horrible father wasn’t concerning, then the headlines were were. Nick nudged Katie gently, following her gaze to her phone. Inwardly she cringed at the sight of the message, reading all of her other notifications curiously. Picking up her phone, she brought it closer and squinted.

“While I want to make fun of you for having to squint, I am more worried about something else…” Nick wanted to laugh at her daughter’s remark, but her eyes were worriedly searching for any update on the headlines.

“Mom?”

Silence.

“Mom?”

No response.

Kathrine sighed, shaking her mother’s shoulder to catch her attention. “Mom! Are you okay?” She knew something was wrong when her mother remained silent and simply looked at her. “Just..just a virus going around the city. No big deal, I think.” Katie was correct to assume something was wrong, as the look in Nick’s eyes seemed to be holding something more secretive.

“How long do you work for?” Kathrine changed the subject abruptly.

The mother looked down at her watch, noting that it was 7:06AM. She could not stop the sigh that left her this time. “Until 6 I believe. I’m sorry honey. I know you wanted to go out with friends and-“ She felt the guilt building up, crossing her arms. Kathrine shook her head, disagreeing with her mom apologizing. “It’s not that. I understand mom, especially with this virus going around. Maybe we can do something else instead, like get pizza and watch a DVD?” Nick agreed to that idea.

She knew she wasn’t a perfect mother- knew that she should be doing more for the bodies she fed and cared for. Nick was well aware, but something in her was secure with her efforts of raising the children her ex could not. She held onto Katie in an attempt to ground herself, watching her two other kids crawl out of the room.

Hell, she knew she wasn’t perfect. Knew that they all deserved better, and Nick would try her best to protect them from what she feared the most. She needed to talk to Jill soon and see about leaving the city- knowing that Jill would be dedicated to help her kids. She cherished her friend greatly and adored the kids, having a heart of gold. Nick had to help Jill too because if this had been anything similar to what Jill had told her a few months ago, this virus would be much worse. I mean, on what planet is a cannibalistic virus normal?

Drool dried itself to their chins, and their hair was tangled from throughout the night. Katie giggled at the toddlers appearance, the up-and-down movement bringing Nick away from her intrusive thoughts. A small smile spread across her face as her three kids held onto her loosely. “What happened to you guys? You fight in your sleep or something?” She teased gently, grabbing the brush stuffed in her bag and nudging Tommy with it. With a few tugs and pulls, he was sorted and grinning with happiness. She copied the same action with Angel, spotting the stuffed rabbit in her little girl’s hands. ‘Miss Ruby’, Angel had named her with little thought. The name was fitting for the animal, the red fur matted down with frequent use. The rabbit was the only gift from her ex that she let her daughter keep due to emotional attachment. Anything for her children, she would say.

“How did Miss Ruby sleep honey?” Angel laughed at her mother’s question, enjoying the attention her favorite stuffed animal was getting.

“Just fine mommy! She had a scary dream but she is okay now!” Nick frowned at the words, knowing that these children were all plagued with the same nightmares that her oldest was suffering with. She was aware, and was constantly wishing that she could help them more. It wasn’t her fault that they knew the horrors that went on months ago, around the time they met Jill. It could never be, because her ex had worked his way into her dreams similarly.

Tommy pulled Nick’s arm roughly, gazing up at his mother curiously. “Mommy, when do we get to see Auntie?” That reminded her- Heidi had come to visit early in the morning and was sleeping in the guest room. She grinned at her children’s expectant faces. “She is home right now actually- it was going to be a surprise but I think you three deserve to know.” She teased lovingly, ruffling Tommy’s hair and poking Katie’s side. They all laughed warmly, lighting up Nick’s world and carving a special place for their presence.

“Alright guys I have to work- I promise we can get pizza tonight and watch something with Auntie. I need you guys to go hang out in the back room for now alright? You should do homework.” She directed the last part towards her eldest with a stern smile. Katie sighed and nodded, grabbing Angel and Tommy’s hands and leading them from the front of the library. Nick spun around sharply, confronting the first customer of the day.

Let’s hope that she could keep her temper at bay.

This gave her plenty of time to ponder her next move. When no customers or children were in sight, she grabbed her phone and scurried to a dark corner to dial Jill. Within a few minutes, it was clear Jill was busy. Nick was repeatedly brought to voicemail which caused her to panic more. She instinctively started to ramble off when it beeped to indicate it was recording.

“Hey- Jill. It’s Nick. I was hoping you’d answer but I think some really bad shit is going to be happening soon. I have to arm myself and my children soon and you should too. This virus that is on the news- it’s cannibalistic. People in zombie-like states are fucking EATING people and people are turning and I believe this city is going to be hit. If this is anything like Arklay, you need to get yourself the hell out. I am going to attempt to leave tonight or tomorrow-or-“ Nick Paused to breath. “Please get back to me is all. Stay safe.” She hung up, noticing she had gone well over 3 minutes for the voicemail. She needed to get back to work and prepare to leave with her children later.

Hours passed with little turmoil, the clock hitting 5:30 when somebody came in early for their shift. Nick recognized the slouched form from frequent conversation. “Hey Ashton. How are you?” Nick leaned forward on her elbows, smiling slightly at her significantly younger coworker. “I’m good Nick. You should head out now- I know you have your kids to care for.” She smiled at his offer, standing up slowly. “Will do. Thanks a lot for this.” He scoffed and dismissed her thanks. She pushed herself out of the chair, pausing to speak to him. “You stay safe, you hear? I will come back for you.” He looked at her strangely, unsure of what she meant but reluctantly agreed.

Within 5 minutes, she had packed up everything she owned and gathered her children. The toddlers bounced with excitement, waving goodbye at the friendly coworker and trotting out the large wooden doors. Nick shook her head at Katie, following them. The walk to her apartment was even shorter than the time it took to pack up, arriving at the complex within a record of 3 minutes. Tommy cheered as he ran up the stairs of the building, chanting about seeing his Aunt and eating pizza.

The walk up the stairs made them pass by some of the well known neighbors, like Jill. Some days when she was less busy, she would visit her friend simply to listen to the S.T.A.R.S agent rant about Umbrella. Sympathetically, she would agree that the corporation was horrible and give a side hug to the traumatized woman. Despite the trauma, Jill was one of the strongest women she knew. She treasured her time and would frequently bring any snacks she could to the woman and any medicine if requested. The bond strengthened as time went on, and something told Nick that it would only get stronger soon. While this was good in itself, it made her anxiety spike.

They had waltzed into the apartment when they were greeted by the aunt who sat in the dark kitchen, fire escape window wide open. Nick shivered from the air, turning towards her sister questioningly. “Heidi? What’s wrong?” She saw the visible shaking of the form, moving closer in worry. “Heidi?”

“Nick. The…the news. Look.” She knew something was wrong at this point, and had an idea of what was going on.

The words chilled her spine. Hesitantly, she looked towards the TV that crackled with life. Her eyebrow creased, the panicked voices of the reporters and background screams striking her suddenly. “What? What’s going on?” Kathrine stepped forward, hiding the toddlers behind her to avoid the sight of the gruesome TV. “An outbreak they are saying. They are saying we need to evacuate, and I don’t want to stress you out but it’s getting worse as we speak.” The screams, she realized, were not coming from the TV. The air carried the panic and struck her with a similar sense of it.

She sighed shakily, worried about how to protect her family without leaving Jill behind in the cursed apartment. In a rushed manner, Nick ran to her room and came across her safe that Jill had gotten her. Jill claimed it was for safekeeping, hiding guns and knives behind the strong metal. Unlocking it, she grabbed the holsters and knives. She sorted through what she would have for herself, giving Kathrine a knife and gun holster that she had picked out a long time ago in preparation for an emergency. She similarly armed Heidi, who at first tried to protest but took the weapons slowly. Coming to an agreement with herself, Nick ordered her sister to take her children away from the complex. Heidi again attempted to refuse, but had no choice but to go through with it as her limited experience would not help anybody.

Heidi gulped, rushing out of the complex after bidding goodbye to her little sister. Nick’s heart clenched as her children waved, refusing to cry as she watched them leave. She refused to say goodbye to them, knowing she would see them again soon. At least, she hoped so.

She knew she needed to stop whatever this was- that Jill was connected and needed help. With a few deep breaths, Nick grabbed a few knives and left her apartment. Before going to knock on Jill’s door, she used the butt of her knife to break the glass on an emergency axe. It helped to have a bigger weapon, knowing that creatures were outside the building. She hurried to the numbered door, knocking frantically and waiting for a response. With only shuffling heard behind the door, Nick prepared to bust the door open. She began to slam against the door, the cracking of wood getting gradually louder and more visible. She paused for a second to soothe her shoulder, stumbling when the building shook all at once.

She caught herself before she could hit the ground before she realized she heard gunshots from inside the apartment. “FUCK! JILL!” Nick rushed at the door, using the axe to break the lock with haste. The metal lock clanged as it hit the ground. The door slammed open against the wall, a battered form running towards her with an enormous creature hot on their trail. Jill rammed into Nick, gripping her shoulders with a sense of urgency. “RUN!”

They wasted no time in booking it, ducking as a large piece of rubble was thrown past their heads. “FFFUCK THIS! IN HERE!” Nick gestured towards her apartment, pulling her friend into the room and quickly shoving a shelf in front of the apartment door. They jogged to the fire escape window that was propped open from earlier. Screams and gunshots sounded from outside the apartment, becoming louder as the two women slid outside the window onto the fire escape. “Holy…shit.” Nick put her hand on Jill’s shoulder with a look of disbelief at the sight, noticing her friend cringe at the pressure.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.“

It wasn’t.

“Where are the kids?” Jill looked around with concern. “Don’t worry. They are with my sister- they have weapons.” She nodded at that, starting to make her way down the stairs and through another open window. Nick followed, gripping the axe tightly as they entered a sheet covered room.

#resident evil #carlos oliveira #jill valentine #original character #zombies

[gryffindors-weasley]

Midnight Dances

Benedict Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Summary: Upon your first week settling into your estate as a newlywed couple, you share a moment alone.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: brief mention of alcohol, fluff, kissing

(aesthetic made by the lovely @heloisedaphnebrightmore )

It has been three days since your arrival at your new estate across England, and still, you have yet to see the entirety of its beauty. It was extraordinarily perfect in every way one could imagine, and impossibly grand for two newlyweds who spent most of their time in each other’s presence. In just three days time, you felt as though maybe you’d only seen just half of your newfound home, and you were determined to change that.

You huff out a quiet sigh as you stare up at the ceiling once more, not a single bit of fatigue as you lay awake. The same could not be said about Benedict as he lay tangled with you, soft snores puffing into your skin lightly. Nothing could get you to sleep; not the warmth of his skin on yours, not the late hour of the night, not the breeze seeping in through the open window, bringing with it the scent of flowers and fresh air. Any and all efforts to be swept into a blissful sleep were rapidly proving to be futile as the minutes passed.

With an exasperated sigh, you untangle yourself from him as carefully as you can manage, a smile gracing your lips as you watch his face nuzzle into the pillow. You slip on your night robe with a fond shake of your head, tying it closed before heading towards the door. You offer one last glance at your lover, at the grand details of your bedroom and the way the curtains fluttered under the breeze blowing against them. You slip out of the room and pull the door closed quietly, making your leave down the hall.

Your footsteps go unheard on the navy colored rug, not a single tassel out of place as they lined the entirety of the hall. Warm lighting illuminated the space in a dim glow, just enough to navigate but not enough to wake those trying to sleep. You were quite sure everyone in the vicinity had been asleep, everyone in the town even, everyone except for you.

The windows you pass by overlooked the gardens, perhaps the most brilliant and extravagant you’ve had the pleasure of seeing. It was hard to believe that it was yours. Finely manicured bushes were assembled in a meticulous pattern, almost maze like. And there were as many flowers as one could possibly imagine and then some, each different in color and type, each just as beautiful as the last. The blossoming trees were what had enchanted you the most, with the way their petals rain down in a flurry of pale pinks with just the slightest gust of wind.

You descended the marble staircase, your hand sliding down the smooth and cool stone railing as you made your way down the curving steps. It felt impossible to look at any one thing at a time, for everything was too glamorous and too wondrous to do so. Even down to the candles melted at varying heights as they sit in their rightful candelabras, ready to be lit again.

Shortly you arrive at the first landing, the familiar skylight coming into view as you continue walking down the stairs. The arched glass structure tucked amongst the lavish detailings on the ceiling lit up the first floor with a natural glow, the stars glimmering just beyond it. You found you liked it better at night than in the light of day.

You pass through familiar halls, ones you’ve frequented most often since arriving there but a few days ago. You passed familiar rooms such as the library, too grand and full of books for your own excited good. You passed the kitchen, still smelling of honey and cinnamon from that night’s dessert. It was the kind of scent that carried with it warmth and the feeling of being truly at home, regardless of the fact that this estate was still very new to you and most likely would be for a little while as you adjust.

With what seemed like a daunting amount of wandering through gorgeous hallways, each just as vacant as the last, you finally reach unfamiliar territory. Maybe you’d already been there, things tended to look quite similar when you were lost. The sound of ticking clocks had been apparent just about anywhere you’d been and anywhere you will go, as was the consistent artwork adorning every other wall in small glimpses of other worlds in depictions of nature. The only noticeable difference was the navy rugs had since changed to a soft lilac, fluffy golden tassels lining the perimeter.

With a few more steps, your brow raises at the sight of the unfamiliar double doors standing tall before you, adorned with intricately carved woodwork as gold sparkled on its surface. You have yet to see what was on the other side at all, and now you were taking full advantage of the opportunity to with your newfound time.

Upon pushing open the doors, you’re met with a sight so grand and enthralling you hadn’t quite expected to be presented with such beauty. Perhaps the most wondrous ballroom was contained within your very own home. It’s cream-colored walls were lined with carved framework at every edge and every corner, a metallic bronze detailing every curve and bit of linework lacing along its perimeters. Several paintings lined them, each encased in a carved and complex frame to house each nature scene captured within them. The far end of the large room held rather tall windows, nearly floor to ceiling, the very tops arched with a matching set of mirrors to adorn the walls between the glass structures. Not a single smudge was to be found.

Ruffles of silky cream curtains frame each window, pooling on the polished wood floors. Through those very windows, the moonlight had been streaming in so brightly it illuminated the room much like any candelabra could. It’s moonbeams reflected off the several chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, the myriad of crystals that dangle from each one casting little flecks of light on the floor and over your skin. The ceilings were made up of several sunken ovals, the same bronze detailing encircling each one. The murals inside had made you feel as though you were standing underneath the sky itself, and it was so meticulously painted you hadn’t known how many hours it must have taken. Surely far too many to wrap your head around. The ceiling in its entirety was so impossibly detailed and intricate you could give yourself a headache thinking of the effort put into creating it. It was delightfully busy.

Your eyes fall on a grand piano sat in the corner next, sleek and pristine with its ivory keys on display and waiting to be played. And the silky upholstered seats spaced out throughout the room. It was spacious, so vast you felt as though it could house all of England if they’d been invited. Though selfishly, a part of you wanted to keep this all to yourself.

“So, this is where you’ve run off to?”

You spin on your heel, a smile pulling at your lips once you see Benedict standing in the doorway. His arms crossed over his chest, the buttons of his shirt only half done and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows in a haphazard attempt to look decent as he roamed the halls in search of you. His hair was a mess, however, dipping over his forehead as the corner of his mouth quirked up in a lopsided grin. A grin that never fails to uncage butterflies in your stomach. You were unaware of just how long you’d been gone.

You smile, twirling once in the grand room as your nightdress flutters at the action. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“I quite like it,” he says with a shrug, pushing himself off the doorframe to make his way over to you. “Though I do believe that some things in this room are far more beautiful than others.”

You turn to face him fully, a blush staining your cheeks that had fortunately gone unseen in the lighting. His smile widened as he raised a brow at you, a laugh falling past his lips when you rolled your eyes.

“What? I was referring to the chandeliers, of course,” He quips with mischief, his eyes crinkling with his grin as you swat at his arm lightly. Your attempts to evade his grasp were futile as he grabs your hand, turning you to face him again as his lips press to your cheek. “I am only kidding, my love.”

“You really are terrible sometimes, you know that, don’t you?” You ask, a lightness in your tone as he drops a kiss to your neck.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” He says, his hands squeezing your own. “Though I suppose it’s better than being terrible all the time, is it not?”

You roll your eyes once more as you turn away from him in an effort to conceal your smile at his antics, walking over to one of the large windows. Just outside was a different angle of the garden, a view aiming straight down a long pathway of perfectly imperfect trees. Fluffy hydrangeas appeared just under the stone window ledges in varying hues of pinks and purples, vines climbing up the far wall of the building.

It hadn’t been long before you felt his arms snake around you, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“We must take a walk through the garden tomorrow,” you state, your heart fluttering at the feeling of his lips on the exposed skin of your shoulder. You could barely remember what you had planned to say next, until you’d forgotten altogether. “Are you listening?”

“Certainly, we must,” he responds with a soft laugh, pressing his lips to your cheek again. “And should it rain?”

“Then we shall take an umbrella,” you say as if your answer was entirely obvious as you slip from his arms with a delighted grin and a tap of your finger to his nose. You left him to look after you with parted lips and a shake of his head. He was awestruck to say the very least.

You wander about the room again with a bounce in your step, running the tips of your fingers along the soft curtains. Upon closer inspection, you discover the detailed linework you had seen moments before were in fact sculpted and carved vines and flowers spidering up the walls. Such a beauty nearly made you swoon at the very sight of it. Everything just kept getting better and better the more you gazed at it.

“What could be the need of a ballroom this grand?” You ask with a laugh, your eyes falling on Benedict.

“Perhaps to dance in,” he says with a shrug, an amusement in his features. You huff out a sigh though you can’t seem to fight your smile this time.

“You know what I meant. Of course it is made for dancing. ”

“Would you be so kind as to have this dance with me, then?” He asks, a teasing tone still weaving around his words as he offers you his hand.

“If I must,” you huff lightheartedly.

His nose scrunches at your counter and he promptly pulls you close, eliciting a squeal to echo into the room at the sudden action. His hand envelopes your own and his arm encircles your waist in the rightful position of a slow dance. Though this time, it was much less formal with the absence of watchful eyes and the need to execute every move with a flawless ease. For you were quite sure bare feet and slippers, night robes and half-tucked in, half-unbuttoned dress shirts were not of appropriate attire for such things.

No music was needed to find your own rhythm, no music was ever needed when the two of you were in your own world.

“I apologize…for waking you,” you say after a few moments, meeting his gaze once more.

“I was barely asleep, not with all your tossing and turning,” He says as you sway.

“Your snoring tells me otherwise.”

A look of faux surprise and offense crosses his face as he twirls you, wrapping his arm around you once more, “I do no such thing!”

An incredulous scoff leaves your lips as he tugs you close, your brows knit together and he continues to act as though he had entirely no idea what you had been talking about.

“I suppose I’m just hearing things then,” you state, far from being earnest as he nods along, “Perhaps it may have even been me.”

“Perhaps it might’ve,” he repeats in playful agreement, halting your frown from deepening as his lips press to yours in what surely would not be the last of many kisses that evening.

You sigh softly as your lighthearted bickering falls silent in favor of enjoying each other’s presence, enjoying the very fact that this was your home. This was your life now and you couldn’t think of anything better than that. He was ever so tender when he kissed you, when his fingers grazed up your side each time you fell out of rhythm. He claims it was just to hear you laugh, and rightfully so, but it was also in a playful payback for your sleepy dancing skills or lack thereof.

He was patient regardless, for the technicalities of the dance were not of much importance, they never were. Not even in a formal setting did he care if it was done perfectly. He cared about the fact that the most wonderful person in the world had been in his arms, and he loved you for all that you are and all that you will be. He hadn’t even needed a fancy ballroom to want to dance with you, hadn’t needed a large estate to be happy with you. He was perfectly content dancing with you in the field of flowers he’d spotted just two days before, and he made a mental note to take you there the following day.

For a while it was silent between the two of you, save for the occasional giggle when his fingers brushed over your skin. Or the patter of your slippers on the hardwood floors. Or his boisterous laughter he cannot contain when your lips ghost over that very sensitive spot just under his jaw, the fading scent of his cologne still lingering on his skin.

He twirls you before drawing you back into his arms, not without you stumbling into him, of course. It was as if your own two feet had been out to get you, and the undeniable grin on his face was telling enough that he’d been up to no good. Not after that.

“Remember that one dinner with my family?” You sigh in mild exasperation as you groan and look away from him at his words, fighting your smile nonetheless. “You had been so nervous you’d sent a spoonful of peas all over the floor. And—if I recall correctly, you proceeded to knock your wine onto my lap.”

“Am I to assume that you shall never let me live that down, Benedict?” You ask with a squint, your arms wrapping around his neck.

“Yes, you would assume correctly, Y/n.”

“It is only your fault, you have a dreadful habit of making me flustered after all,” you defend with furrowed brows and pursed lips.

“I very well see that,” he says, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a smirk.

You bite the inside of your cheek to stave off your grin, he did not deserve that satisfaction. Instead, you lean on your toes and press your lips on his, effectively kissing away the teasing smile he once had in favor of basking in the feeling of the warmth of your lips brushing over his own. In the feeling of your fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck once more. His arms tighten their hold around you out of instinct, a soft hum escaping him.

“Perhaps I should bring it up more often if this is how you choose to quiet me,” he suggests against you, stealing another kiss.

“Or perhaps you shouldn’t.”

You pull away from him much to his dismay, and he finds himself chasing your lips for more. You laugh softly, your hand settling on his cheek as his once teasing smirk turns to that of a fond smile. The crystal reflections of the chandeliers above glimmer down over you, the moonlight illuminating the loving gaze that had been focused on you and only you. He couldn’t help but to capture your lips once more, for now that he had the opportunity to do so just as much as so he pleases he finds he can’t get enough.

Your hand falls from his face as your giggle brushes against his lips, his embrace sending you stumbling back a step or two.

“We’re supposed to be dancing, are we not?” You ask, breaking from his hold and spinning away from him, leaving him to smile after you in a lovestruck daze as you twirl in the glow moonlight.

He stood back to watch you for a moment, the way you seemed to beam more beautifully than any natural wonder ever could. The way you captured his attention far more than the lavish ballroom you currently resided in. Of all the luxuries he’s seen, of all the dashing estates and elegantly decorated soirée’s he’s been in attendance of in his life, there could be no greater beauty than you. There could be nothing in the world that is more enamoring, more effortlessly alluring.

He never knew the profound effects of love until it came along and grabbed hold of his heart, the feeling lancing through him with a wholehearted certainty that it was real and it was all-consuming. He knew love, of course. The Bridgerton family was large and filled with an unwavering warmth and welcoming one could surely wish for. He knew unconditional familial love amongst numerous siblings no matter the bickering that was bound to take place, serious or not. But this—this was different.

This kind of love was wonderfully and delightfully dizzying as it crashed down upon him in waves, immeasurably intoxicating with every fleeting moment that passed him by.

“Are you going to stare at me for the entirety of the night?”

Your teasing voice had stolen his attention once more, his attention that had been so distracted focused on you. It was then that he grabbed you by the waist and lifted you off your feet, suddenly spinning with you in playful retaliation for noting his gawking and telling him all about such a thing. Your laughter rang out into the glorious space while his lips pressed a flurry of kisses up your neck, your hands settling on his shoulders as his breath danced across your flushed skin.

To marry your best friend, whom you truly love endlessly is but a wonder indeed, a fate many dream of but very few experience. It is a feeling most incomparable to all else.

He set you back on your feet but his kisses never cease, his lips brushing along the underside of your jaw with his laughter left to linger against your skin. They travel upwards to press tenderly across your blush stained cheeks, to the very tip of your nose, and perhaps most giddily and passionately to your already kiss swollen lips.

He doesn’t know how he manages to stop; perhaps it’s your constant yet soft laughter breaking the two of you apart, or perhaps it’s his desire to see the way your eyes sparkle in the glowing light. Or the way your face is illuminated so beautifully that it has him fighting the urge to grab his sketchbook, but he does not want to leave you not even for a second. Perhaps it’s both and it’s almost entirely too much for him to handle all in one moment.

“Why ever are you looking at me like that?” You ask, amusement in your tone.

“Because,” He says with a breathless laugh, “because I love you. I burn for you.”

A fond smile pulls at your lips immediately as you look at him, and it is impossible to ignore the warmth blossoming in your chest, lancing through you. It is impossible to ignore the insurmountable love coursing through every part of your being as you gaze into the eyes of your lover.

“I love you, Benedict,” you murmur, “I burn for you.”

He finds his smile unable to be contained as his forehead drops to rest on yours, noses brushing. His hand once again finds yours, his arm encircling your waist, and you sway. In the ridiculously large ballroom, to a melody unheard by anyone else. You sway and twirl and laugh in a slow dance all your own, a midnight dance.

—

Tags: @dreaming-about-fanfictions @valwritesx

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton oneshot #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton fic #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton fic #bridgerton fanfiction

[roselightfairy]

For @carlandrea, who prompted Thranduil + Gimli. I don’t know exactly what I was intending with this, and I have no idea if it makes narrative or emotional sense, but... it’s all for the Atmosphere, baby. Just go with it.

...

Legolas was not often called away for duties when they visited Eryn Lasgalen – not since he had removed to Ithilien and taken the better part of his unit of archers with him. Though he remained yet a prince of Eryn Lasgalen in name, he was lord of Ithilien in deed and in duty, and was treated as such when he returned home.

By his father, at least. His sister had no such reservations, either in the enthusiasm of her greeting or her requests for him upon arrival. She had asked him to accompany her on a brief scouting mission, and – whether out of guilt for having robbed Lasgalen of its most skilled archers, or desire for her company, Gimli knew not – he had agreed. The journey was meant to take them only perhaps a day and a night, and in the meantime Gimli wandered the halls alone.

He had accustomed himself quickly to the caverns where the elves lived: he could find his way under stone well enough, no matter who else might inhabit it. Still, they felt strange to him – instead of the thrumming of warmth that dwarven homes always awoke in his chest – the long-awaited welcome of Erebor; the glorious thrill of Aglarond – these halls rang with an empty loneliness, an ache in his chest as of a missing piece, some long-held sadness. The closest he could come to comparing it was the dimmed ancient glory of Khazad-dûm, but even that was not quite right – there was a diminishing in these halls, an echo of emptiness not of a grandeur now lost, but of a hope never fulfilled. It echoed in his chest, in the sound of his footsteps, flickered in the shadows of ivy on the walls, illuminated by torchlight; it swept across his face in the breeze from the wide windows and skylights.

The halls of Eryn Lasgalen were quiet at night. Elves slept little, so Gimli would have expected bustling, but any reveling that occurred took place out under the stars, and he supposed even elves needed to rest at times. His footsteps were loud on the stone floors, the solid step of a dwarf accustomed to walking where he would, though it felt strangely illicit here, where so few dwarves had been welcome. Gimli was given the freedom to roam where he would in his husband’s home, where his father had been locked away merely for setting foot in the forest, and he felt almost guilty for it, as though he dishonored his father’s trials with every step.

His wandering footsteps took him around a corner, up a set of spiraling steps, and he found himself in a shaded alcove hung with ivy and berries he dared not touch, against a window cut into the stone that looked out over the forest. Gimli folded his arms on the sill and gazed out, noting the rustle of leaves in the darkness, of lights in the distance where elves must be dancing and drinking. He wondered where Legolas was, out there in the forest, beneath the shaded boughs – or among them.

“May I join you?”

The voice came from behind him, practically in his ear; Gimli whirled, nearly choking on his spiking heartbeat. Legolas’s father stood behind him, not as close as he had sounded but still far nearer than he ought to be, for how silently he had approached. He had forgone the crown of leaves tonight; his golden hair streamed loose down his back, and he wore a simple green tunic and a faintly amused smile.

“Of course you may,” said Gimli, his voice rasping as he recovered his breath. “I would not turn you away anywhere in your own halls.”

Thranduil tilted his head as if in acknowledgement of that point and came to join Gimli in gazing out the windows. He left a respectable few inches of space between them, but still Gimli rarely stood so near to Legolas’s father; his nerves hummed in acute awareness of their proximity.

It was silent for a time, and then Thranduil spoke again. “I am sorry to startle you.”

There was just enough upward lilt in his voice, something lighter beneath the dry deadpan, that Gimli risked a flicker of his eyes to the side, a slight incline of his head. “Forgive me, your majesty,” he said, “but I do not think you are.”

Thranduil laughed openly at that, and Gimli restrained a startle at the sound. “Perhaps not,” he allowed. “Sometimes, the temptation to ensure that one has not lost one’s touch is simply . . . irresistible.”

“Perhaps particularly when one is approaching one’s son-in-law?” Gimli suggested, equally dry, and was rewarded with another laugh.

Thranduil’s laughter was more restrained than Legolas’s or even Laerwen’s, as though he were waiting for another punchline, but still the rare mirth felt like a gift – like a sign of favor. “Perhaps,” he said, his smile fading as he turned again out the window. His long fingers came to rest on the sill as though it were an organ and he meant to launch into a piece of music. Like spider legs, Gimli would have once thought them – such was the phrase often used to describe Thranduil in Erebor – in exaggerated tales told after a few drinks only, for Dáin would not condone it. But still it was whispered: the lord of the spiders at the center of a web of greed and deceit.

It was an epithet Gimli would never use again – not after seeing the hatred in Legolas’s eyes when he spoke of the spiders and what all they had taken from his people and his family.

Silence fell between them, but it was not a silence Gimli could read like he could Legolas’s – he knew not whether to speak and break it, or to let it stretch. In absence of intuition, stretch it did, long and taut until something felt about to snap, and finally he could bear it no longer.

“Your halls are beautiful,” he offered, cringing even as the words left his lips. But he had begun, and so he must continue. “The design is like nothing I have seen before.”

“That means much, coming from a dwarf of Erebor,” said Thranduil. His lips pursed, then relaxed. “But even we of the woods make do, when we must.” He gazed out the window again, and Gimli too turned to look out over the woods, the patches of trees light with revelers. He wondered what Thranduil could hear.

Thranduil’s face remained as unreadable as ever, but something in his stance, in the tilt of his head, reminded Gimli abruptly of how Legolas stood when he looked at Ithilien, at the homes elves had built in trees, reveling in their newfound safety. “I know something of making do,” he said slowly. “But I do not think the creation of something beautiful is wholly a loss, even if it comes from sorrow.” He clamped his mouth shut before he could speak further, unsure whose painful memories he might rouse with these words – Thranduil’s, or his own.

Thranduil turned to look sharply at Gimli, his eyes keen as though measuring him. It was not the penetrating stare of the Lady Galadriel, but still Gimli felt somehow tested in his gaze, those cool grey eyes like steel raking over his body. When Thranduil looked away at last, he could not say if he had been found wanting.

“You are more right than even you know, maybe,” Thranduil said at last. “But I will hope for your sake and for Legolas’s that you need never resign yourself to it.” He sighed, and for just a moment his hands tightened their grip on the windowsill, his knuckles flashing white beneath his skin – and then, as though Gimli had imagined it, they were loose again, resting against the stone like on organ keys.

As Gimli floundered for a response, Thranduil straightened beside him, a wave passing through his spine to draw him up even taller than before. “Are you faring well in these halls?” he said. “No one has given you trouble?”

Gimli blinked, shaken by the abrupt change in mood. “Yes,” he said, “yes, everyone is perfectly cordial.” Not perfectly – not with the murmurs in dark corners in the Sindarin that Gimli could understand well enough; not when he sometimes felt a prickle on the back of his neck and heard laughter behind him, though he could not see who followed him. He felt safe enough here, particularly when Legolas was by his side, and that was enough.

“Good.” Thranduil nodded. “Do tell me if at any time our hospitality is less than might be hoped. I would not have my son-in-law treated poorly within my realm.”

“I” – How should he promise to do something he had no intention of doing? “You are kind,” was what he managed at last, a non-answer.

Thranduil’s eyes narrowed shrewdly, and Gimli knew he caught it, but what could he say to such an answer? “I am hardly kind,” was his response. “As you have no doubt been reminded. But I do not make commitments lightly.”

“Nor does your son,” Gimli said, before he could think better of it – thinking of the earnestness of every one of Legolas’s promises, how sincerely he held his word. His heart ached at even this brief separation, at this strange conversation with Legolas’s father while his husband was away, and yet he wondered if Legolas’s sincerity was some gift from his father, undiluted by the years of trial and suspicion that shielded Thranduil’s eyes.

“No,” Thranduil said – soft, a rush of air, almost a sigh. “No, he does not.”

The melancholy that rose between them was entirely different now: not an acknowledgement of past suffering but an unspoken shared knowledge of future regrets that neither of them could help – a shared love for one who had set himself firmly on the path to grief, heedless of what either could wish for him. Gimli had known moments like this before – more often with Thranduil’s daughter than with the king himself – of that sudden kinship, that shared silent sorrow. For a moment, it was all he could feel.

And then, as abruptly as it had begun, the moment was ended and Thranduil had let his hands fall from the sill, stepped back from Gimli’s side. “I will leave you to your thoughts, then,” he said. “Have a pleasant evening, Gimli.”

“And you,” Gimli managed after him, half-stunned in his wake, but Thranduil gave no indication he had heard him but a half-raised hand, as much a dismissal as a farewell, and then he was striding off down the hallway and disappearing into the dark.

He departed as soundlessly as he had arrived.

#my fic #gimli #thranduil #gimli & thranduil #legolas x gimli #it's implied

[sariahsue]

The Open Line - Ch 31, Promise

Read chapter 1 here Read chapter 30 here

It was a quiet cry, soft and delicate, but Ladybug's tears still sent Cat Noir into a panic. Did he do something wrong? Was being Adrien wrong? Had she not wanted to know his identity yet? He tried to pull her in, tuck her into his chest, and give her the same comfort she'd given him, but she put her hands on his shoulders and leaned him back until he could see the smile below the tears.

"You really are the man of my dreams!" And then she was hugging him, burrowing into his arms. "I can't believe I fell in love with you twice!"

Her words were hot on his neck and shot straight through to his heart, and suddenly he was the one pulling her closer.

"Actually," she said, "I can believe it. You're amazing. Can we be together now?"

Of course. Definitely. Absolutely.  But all he could manage was a weak, "Yes."

"Promise?" She squeezed him tighter.

It was like his mouth wouldn't work right. Words wanted to spill out of him so fast he had to fight to keep them in order. "I promise. Together forever." His voice broke on the last word, and he realized with a little embarrassment that she wasn't the only one crying.

"You're just as bad as I am," Ladybug teased, even as she wiped at his cheek with her thumb.

"Further proof that we're made for each other."

"Like you needed any more reasons." She flicked his bell.

He kissed her this time – forty-two, forty-three – slow and steady, until the kisses melted into each other, without beginning or ending. His lips hardly left hers before he was kissing her again.

It was several more minutes before they parted. Cat Noir felt as calm and quiet as the night around them. "I'd be honored to walk you home," he murmured into her hair. "In fact..." He pulled back suddenly, watching with delight as Ladybug's arms reached out after him. "I can do better than that."

In one fluid motion, he extended his baton over the road and created a rail-thin bridge to her balcony.

"May I?" he asked, holding out his arms for her.

"You're such a goof." Ladybug giggled again, blushing, and slipped her arms around his neck. When he picked her up bridal style, she snuggled into him with her head on his shoulder. Ladybug would never behave that way, but Marinette would, and was amazed all over again that this was Marinette, and that she felt this way about him.

He waited until no cars with curious drivers were passing by beneath them, then stepped off the roof and tiptoed across the gap. Ladybug closed her eyes, trusting him to get her home safely.

It was easy to hop over her railing, and difficult to let her go, and almost impossible to stay upright as he watched Ladybug transform back into Marinette for the first time. He barely registered a kwami diving through a skylight to give them privacy. The girl in front of him held his entire attention.

And yet he was still caught off guard when she pushed up on her toes and kissed him suddenly. "I love you, Adrien."

Cat Noir hummed happily as he ran his fingers through her pigtails. "So, I'll see you at school on Monday?"

"Can you come by sooner than that?" she asked. She tilted her head, a coy smile creeping across her face. "I don't want to miss my boyfriend for the whole weekend."

At the word "boyfriend," it really was impossible to stay upright, and his hands flailed until they found the railing to support him.

Marinette started to grin, obviously delighted with this newfound power to knock him off his feet, and she pushed forward. "I don't want to be lonely without you," she said, leaning into his space. Cat Noir knew he had to regain some control over the situation before she wrecked him. Well, wrecked him even more than she already had.

"Well, you won't have to be," he croaked. He'd meant it to come out smooth and confident. "There'll probably be an akuma tomorrow. I'll see you then." And suddenly, his feet were on her railing and he was getting ready to jump away, when he felt a tug on his middle. Turning around, he saw the end of his tail looped around Marinette's fist, holding him in place.

"Don't go yet!"

"But it's late and I need my beauty sleep," he complained. "I don't look this hot on accident, you know."

Her eyes flicked down and just as quickly up again, and then away as soon as she realized she'd been caught. As soon as he hopped off the balcony, Marinette shifted her hold, releasing his tail in favor of locking her arms around him. "Good thing I like you for more than just your looks then." She was still staring at a spot on his shoulder, cheeks red.

"How long are you going to keep me prisoner?" he asked. Not that he minded in the slightest. A blushing Marinette squeezing herself around him, encasing him in her affection? He didn't mind at all.

"Until you lose count of how many kisses I've given you," she said, finally looking at him. Well, at his mouth.

"I hope you're ready to be out here all night then, because I'm going to count very, very  carefully." Cat Noir leaned in.

"I'd better get started then." And she closed the gap.

Read Chapter 32 here

***

Author's note: He definitely lost count before he went home, but he kept making up numbers as an excuse not to leave. Marinette saw through this charade almost immediately but didn't call him on it because she wanted more kissies.

This was actually the last Ladynoir July prompt, but you're getting one more chapter to tie everything together. :D

#ml #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #ladynoir #ladynoir july

[paganinpurple]

A Feline’s Family - MariChat May 2019

Buy Me A Coffee?

AO3

Chapters (If there’s no link, it’s not written yet)

1   2   3   4   5   6   7   8   9   10

11  12  13  14  15  16  17  18  19  20

21  22  23  24  25  26  27  28  29  30  31

Day 18 – Balconies

Ladybug released her yo-yo string, somersaulting in mid-air before dropping to the concrete below. Her transformation melted away as she landed, Tikki spinning out of her earring with a giggle that was bound to haunt her for a few days.

“Your face is almost the same colour as me!” the little red bug squealed in joy, tiny arms coming up to cover her mouth.

“Tikki! Shh!” Marinette squeaked, mortified, “He’s right behind us. He’ll hear you!” 

If she had thought Chat’s flirting had been the most difficult thing to try coping with before, she had seriously underestimated the rest of the people in her life.

She had even stupidly thought school was going to be a relief from the constant barrage of pick-up lines.

Instead, she had found that school was a daily test of her ability to fight down her traitorous blood supply from flooding her cheeks with colour – as Adrien seemed determined to spend as much time as possible in her company. Alya was merciless in her ribbing about it, keeping it relatively low-key while he was around before completely tormenting her once he disappeared for so much as a second. It also hadn’t helped that in the lead up to their reveal, Marinette had been non-the-wiser to the boy’s sudden burst of interest in being around her – which Alya now thought had all been for show.

“I still don’t get why you didn’t just tell me he was sneaking out to spend the night at your place regularly,” she had said yesterday, “I would’ve happily listened to you scream with joy.” Marinette reddened even further as she remembered how she had been awkwardly balancing Alya’s teasing with keeping Adrien out of earshot without accidentally upsetting him by keeping her distance. A fact Alya was taking great pleasure in exploiting, knowing if she spoke low enough, Marinette wouldn’t be able to retaliate without him realising something was up. “I could’ve even clued you in sooner that he’d started crushing on you.”

Because it made sense to her best friend (and from the knowing looks thrown her way, Nino too) that Adrien would’ve picked the girl he liked when he started acting rebelliously towards his father and snuck out to visit a girl. At night. In her bedroom.

Especially given Adrien’s newfound style of flirting with her – in front of everyone. It was a more reserved form compared to Chat’s usual bravado and she had uncomfortably discovered that it both exhilarated her and turned her insides into jelly. The death glares she received from Chloe and Lila certainly hadn’t helped her to relax either. But then neither had the shrewd glances from her classmates, and other friends around school, whenever Adrien referred to the bakery as home.

And really, why else would the Dupain-Chengs have wanted to foster Adrien instantly after the news of his father’s villainy broke, unless he had already been a constant addition to their lives? There had been no logical way to explain and still hide her status as sleepover friend from anyone who knew them – at least not without creating a hundred difficult questions she couldn’t exactly answer without endangering their own identities.

“I’m pretty certain your parents and Master Fu have already said much worse in front him tonight than I ever could,” Tikki chuckled, bringing Marinette back to the moment. She groaned, hiding her face in her hands at the memories of all the ‘couple’ talk the three adults had used when referring to the two of them.

Her and Adrien had finally found time to fill Master Fu in on the situation completely, including that they now knew each other’s identities, and that their parents were also in on the secret. It had been an uneasy wait for the reporters and police to back off enough that they could move around without fear of being followed, though they had still played things safe and acted as if they were introducing Adrien to a family member, in case anyone noticed.

At Tom and Sabine’s insistence they had arranged a meeting as soon as they thought it was safe for them to get to know each other – and so her parents could ask any questions the kids might have been unable to answer, or not thought to ask. Family movie night had needed to be sacrificed, but Marinette had been sure it would be worth it. At least, until the teasing had started, and she once again found herself wishing she was able to melt through the floor at will.

No shouts of, “Mama!” “Papa!” or “Master!” had made a difference and Marinette had resigned herself to a fate of death by humiliation as Master Fu had gotten around to explaining that he had tried to pair up two young souls who he thought were “made for each other.” She had absolutely refused to look Adrien in the eyes during that part, but she still managed to catch his shy, embarrassed smile in her peripheral vision when Tom had reached over to muss his hair right after.

There was a muffled thump on the balcony behind her, indicating Chat had finally arrived home. He often liked to stay to the shadows and circle back on himself to ensure no one spotted where they were headed –and normally she did too– but she had been so flustered by everything going through her mind tonight that she had neglected her usual caution and taken a more direct route. But he had finally caught up to her, and now they were both home.

Together. Alone.

And she still had no idea how to bring up her own feelings with him, even with all the constant teasing making it the elephant in the room most days.

“Hey, My Lady? How long do you think your parents’ll stay chatting to Master Fu?” he asked with a tone of almost forced casualness, “Like, should we wait for film night? Or maybe we should just watch one in our room? Just the two of us?” She turned to see him scratch at the back of his neck awkwardly, a hint of nerves evident in the wrinkle of his brow. “Just, it’s getting kind of late, and they’ll have to be up early to work the bakery tomorrow. And I don’t know if you’re worn out from all the…from the talking, but I’d like to do something.”

Biting her lip to hinder her first instinct –which was to push him away by the nose and make a quick getaway– Marinette smiled shyly at him. Her head dropped a little despite how hard she tried to cling on to her depleting confidence, and she found herself glancing up at Chat, almost through her eyelashes.

“Sure,” she said, and as much as she tried for a normal voice, her words came out tender and full of some unspoken emotion, “Why don’t you go find something you think I’ll like?”

Chat blinked at her for a moment, eyes wide and owlish before he shook his head and gave her a weak smile. “I’ll go have a look then,” he said, clearing his throat so his own voice sounded more natural, “You know, this is one of the few times I’d love to have access to my stuff at the mansion. There’s a ton of stuff I’m dying to watch with you.”

She watched as he dropped through the skylight and presumably began to rummage through her family’s collection of films in the main room. She sighed as she considered his parting words. It didn’t seem to bother him that he was only allowed to keep some bare essentials from his time at his father’s, but it was still clearly a weight on his mind to know that everything he owned was being searched through repeatedly on a daily basis, along with everything else in the mansion. Then there was the constant stream of questioning from the police and their reminders that Gabriel’s assets were being held, as well as keeping him informed of any supposed progress in their full searches of the company premises, and certain employee’s homes. Marinette often wondered if they suspected him and were just looking for telling reactions; or if they genuinely wanted him to know how everything was going, given how in the dark he’d been about his father.

“So, I was stuck between an older classic,” Chat breathed against her ear, making her jump a little in fright, “and I know it’s only from 2003 and your dad would kill me if he heard me say that, but it’s Love Actually! That’s a classic, right?”

Marinette fought off the trembling that threatened to give away how nervous she felt. She wasn’t entirely sure if it was from the shock at his sudden appearance, or the way his mouth had been so close to her ear that she had been able to hear the sounds his lips made as they formed the words before his voice broke through. Or even if it was the ungodly amount of discomfort she got from the thought of watching that film with him – given how she remembered first seeing it with her mama in the room and feeling utterly mortified at some of the scenes. She somehow managed to step away and turn to face him without belaying her emotional distress, and then nodded gently in response to his question.

“Or,” Chat continued, “There’s this one – About Time? I’ve never seen it, but I wanted to. Is it good?”

“Um-” she quickly ran over and snatched the DVD case from his clawed hand, “-maybe that one isn’t the best for you to watch. It has a bit of a theme about…” As she trailed off, her eyes screwed up a little and she remained alert to how he might react, ready to offer support if he needed it.

“…Losing family?” she finished tentatively.

For a moment she regarded his rapidly dampening eyes –full of unshed tears– before he turned and wiped at them furiously with the back of his hand. When he was done, he moved towards her and she was still straining her mind to work fast enough to react when he pulled her into a warm, tight hug against his slightly heaving chest. She hugged back as best she could, his cheek resting on the top of her head and DVD case pressing against his back awkwardly as she tried to wrap her arms around him.

“Thank you,” he breathed, voice cracking and sounding slightly watery, though she didn’t feel any tears against her hair or clothes, “You’re always thinking of me. Thank you.”

Only a moment later, she felt his breath even out a little as he regained his emotional strength once more, breaking the hug almost hesitantly to look at her instead. “So, Love Actually?”

She smiled. “Love Actually.”

“Okay!” he said, suddenly grinning and far too cheerful, “Uncomfortable simulated sex scene it is!”

She squeaked and crumpled to the floor, where she remained for a solid twenty minutes before he finally managed to convince her to come downstairs, despite his own fit of giggles.

Buy Me A Coffee?

#PIP writes #marichatmay2019 #A Feline's Family #MariChat May #MariChat

[gestaltmemoir]

The Lacustrine Palace

There's no denying that Meridian's capital is a beautiful place. What most people don't know, however, is that the city's many monuments have a story behind them. One of my earlier works as Meridian cultural adviser to the Foreign Ministry was this article, which is still available on their official publication The Definitive Guide to Meridian.

I visited this building a few times when I was a boy. It helps that it was literally the next island over from my uncle's house. It was a sight to behold, despite my general distaste for its current occupant. -Todd

Introduction

One of the old residences of Meridian’s royal family prior to their ascension to the throne, the Lacustrine Palace of House Blackheart was one of the most magnificent residences in the Imperial Capital City of Gestalt. Although not as huge or as old as that of the other palatial compounds of the noble houses of Anspach, it is definitely one of the most opulent—a wondrous blending of cultures that would help set the trend for all patrician residences and the architecture of the Meridian Empire for years to come.

Its history, from its construction as an urbane oasis within reach of the family’s namesake lake to its status as an official royal residence, is tied to that of the modern history of the Meridian Empire. The home was initially built as a townhome and retreat for the exclusive use of the Marquis, Patriarch of the House of Blackheart, and his family. It currently serves as one of many official royal residences, typically being used as the residence of heirs apparent and their families.

In the best of times and worst of times the Lacustrine Palace had been a safe haven, a base of operations, a royal residence, and a prison for the noble house that had a hand in the foundation of the modern Meridian state.  Despite its modest size compared with the Imperial Palace at the city center, the home has held a special place in the hearts of the many emperors who grew up there.

Construction

This home—modest in size by Imperial Meridian standards—was set close to the shores of the great lake that bears the name of the family that had called it home.  It was first conceptualized by Frederick IX, Marquis of Blackheart, and his wife, the Princess Makeda of the Western Meridian Empire, eighty years before the advent of the first Steam Wars. Construction began shortly after the birth of their son, Elector Frederick Galliard X, Prince of Sapir, who would later complete the palace long after they had died.   The palace was built with the profits the family had made from the founding of the trade route between the Northern Meridian Empire and the Sapirian Empire of the West.

This beautiful residence, which fused together architectural styles from the Empires of Sapir and Gestalt, was meant to serve both as a townhome and a retreat—a place to be closer to the city as the now-busy Marquis needed to be and as a quiet getaway for the couple and their family.  

To achieve this level of privacy and convenience, it was built on a small lake island close to the shore of Lake Blackheart, linked to the island by a small private causeway.  Located at the outskirts of Gestalt, itself an island at the center of the lake, the Lacustrine Palace was sufficiently distant from the busy capital to retain its serenity while being relatively accessible by boat or carriage to the city center.

Architecture

The palace was the couple’s pet project and was meant to be a private residence. Reclusive yet within sight of Gestalt, it harmoniously combined elements from all corners of the continent. Fine materials were carefully arranged and coordinated by many of  the great architects and artisans of Sapir and Gestalt under the auspices of the Marquis and the Princess. The finished building was a testament to Meridian artisanship as well as the budding steel and glass industries that laid the foundation of the country's industrial revolution.

The materials were selected from among the finest that the two empires had to offer. Artisans from across the continent brought with them elegant glass and metalwork from Murphy and Vhedonia, specially handcrafted chandeliers from the artisan shops of Gestalt, rugs and tapestries from Bechdel—all framed by an edifice faced by beige sandstone and marble from the quarries of the Wildlands, worked on by the finest masons of the two Meridian empires.

The completed palace was the center of a complex of buildings built around the small lake island. The main home was an elegantly decorated palace, modest compared with its contemporaries, that had over 50 spacious rooms, elegantly yet minimally decorated with trappings from throughout the continent. These included study rooms serving as offices for the Marquis and his family, bedrooms, nurseries for the children, several dining and reception rooms, two ballrooms, and an entire annex dedicated to the accommodation of guests.

The centerpiece of its interior is a massive staircase that led to the private chambers of the Marquis and his family. Framed by elegant steel and stained glass skylights that brought natural light into the hall, the Grand Staircase was the crown jewel of the palace and would serve as a platform from which most of the family’s great milestones would be announced and celebrated.

Additions to the home would be built by later generations of Blackhearts; the first of these add-ons was built in the elder days of Frederick X—it was a lakeside mausoleum and Mapotherian shrine on the far end of the islet where the complex was located.  There, Frederick’s parents, as would Frederick himself, were interred.

As the technology of the Empire marched forward, so did the features of the palace. The complex was among the first of the stately houses to adopt gas (and later electric) lighting as they became available.  The residents of the palace, however, claim that the natural light that entered the home through its skylights provided the most spectacular lighting of all.

History

When the keystone of this palace was first laid, the Blackhearts were still one of the poorly known “minor houses” of Anspach. Despite their influential role in the founding of the Garanian state, they barely held on to the shores of the lake that bore their name. In politics, they were often eclipsed by the more prestigious lords of the Electorate.  

The adventurous Marquis of Blackheart, a frontiersman who had founded a small but immensely profitable outpost in the shores on the far edge of the great Peripheral Sea, had restored part of their dignity through his marriage to the youngest daughter of the Sapirian Emperor.  Their union paved the way for trade between the two Meridian empires, which brought in much riches and prestige for the Marquis and his family. The Lacustrine Palace was commissioned to commemorate their union and celebrate the family’s newfound wealth and power.

In contrast to the political overtones of their union, the Marquis and his princess bride were very much in love. They designed the palace together as a symbol of their everlasting fondness for one another, and would fuse the details of their cultures as a reflection of both their union and that of their cultures.

The palace, though functional, was still halfway finished when Princess Makeda fell ill and died. Grief-stricken Frederick left the residence incomplete; his palace had become a self-imposed prison for the broken-hearted marquis. It fell to his son to finish the palace to commemorate his parents’ memory.

Shortly before he himself died, Frederick Galliard X bore witness to his son, Frederick Galliard XI, becoming heir to the throne of Sapir upon the staircase where his father and mother had previously announced his coming of age as a Prince of Sapir.  Subsequent residents would add to the complex, but due to the size of the island, the Lacustrine Palace would remain small.

A House for Royals

Intrigue and circumstances in the far-flung Western Meridian Empire would turn the completed palace—hitherto the city home and private retreat of the Marquis of Blackheart—into a royal residence. Tragedy struck as a massacre took place at the Western Empire’s capital Whorfian ordered by unknown agents. This left Frederick Galliard XI, himself elected as the successor to the Garanian Throne of the East, the sole blood heir to the throne of the West. Within months, the palace became the host and official royal residence of the Emperor of a united Meridian.  

Frederick I, as we now call him, lived his entire life in the palace and was even born in one of the chambers there. It was the first time an emperor was born in the palace. This soon became an unofficial tradition. Princess Imperials and Empresses often chose home births in this specific palace whenever it was advisable.

At present, the Lacustrine Palace of the Blackhearts is named one of the official royal residences of the Blackheart dynasty, acting as the de jure official residence of the crown prince or crown princess after they have come of age.  

Current Occupant

The current official occupant of the palace is the First Prince Blackheart and heir presumptive to the Blackheart throne, though he has since vacated the home upon his recent imperial appointments in government.

His highness, like his father Emperor Frederick III and grandfather prince Galliard II, was born and raised for some time in the palace, reflecting a century-old imperial family tradition followed for generations.  The palace became his personal residence upon the ascension of his father to the throne and subsequent move of the new imperial household to the Imperial Palace at Gestalt, and he began to occupy it at the age of 16. He has, in the duration of his occupancy of the residence, treated it as a place to satisfy his personal pleasures.  

The palace hosted many of the prince's events, some of which were respectable affairs of national importance. Most remembered of these, however, were his many riotous parties, which frequently devolved into drunken frenzies. Ever the hedonist, the First Prince Blackheart had used the palace for his personal pleasure since his early childhood, where it functioned as a giant playhouse for him and his young friends.

Although rumors persist that the prince's occupation had caused irreparable damage to the palace, the desk of the First Prince Blackheart has denied such allegations, saying that any damage had been minimal and was quickly addressed by the palace's maintenance staff.

Palace of Sentiment

The palace has served as both a national treasure for Meridian and a private jewel for the Blackheart royal family.  Far more significant, however, is its place in the hearts of many members of the Blackheart family, built out of love by the riches gained in a fairytale romance and completed by a son wanting to honor his parents’ memory.  

The emperors who were born there have often spoken of the fond memories they had in the Lacustrine Palace, having used the home as a private getaway and personal residence.  Familiar with their larger official homes, they would treat the palace as a simple getaway or play house, where they would invite their peers to all sorts of activities and, in their adolescence, all manner of youthful debauchery.  

Several emperors and one empress were born and named heirs apparent in the palace, and having grown attached to the palace that they’ve come to see as their first home, have used it as a place to raise their own families before they ascended the throne.

Architectural Legacy

Architectural additions to the Imperial Palace and later palaces and public buildings from the Blackheart era would draw inspiration from the Lacustrine Palace. Both the Blackheart family and the many noble houses that copied them agreed that the palace’s architecture reflected a union of styles between the two cultures of the continent that mirrored Meridian’s newfound national identity.  

Lacustrine architecture, the prevalent architectural style used in Meridian and her colonies, gets its name from the Lacustrine Palace and its imitators throughout the capital.

#Gestalt: A Memoir #World Building June 2021 #WBJ #Architecture #History