#surrender to his infinite charm

[sunandflame]

Shards of Glass, Chapter 4

Summary: Kyojuro Rengoku, History Teacher on the Kimetsu Academy, is constantly having strange dreams about a Slayer who looks exactly like him. He thinks nothing of it until he recognizes a very specific person from these dreams and feels a very unique connection to her.

Pairing: History Teacher Kyojuro x Teacher Fem!Reader

Trope: Reincarnation / Sequel to Flame and Water (can be stand-alone)

Word Count: 1664

Warning: slightly suggestive

Pinterest Board of Shards of Glass

Crossposted on AO3

Masterlist of Shards of Glass

He fished out the flower that was floating at the edge of the pond and placed it in her hair. "You are as beautiful and pure as this water lily..." His lips were close to her ears when he whispered his words, kissing her ear that brought up a soft giggle from her. She turned to him and his heart clenched at the beautiful sight of her. God, he loved her so much…

This time the awakening was gentler, the image before his eyes clearer. The beauty of Y/N was burned into his mind and he couldn't calm the pounding of his heart the more he thought about her. He was confused and didn't know what these dreams were trying to tell him. In the first week she started as an English teacher, all he saw in his dreams was her terrified face, which gave him no peace at night. He could not bear the thought that he might have hurt her. Seeing it over and over again made him avoid sleeping, letting him rely on coffee, which didn't really help. 

It also didn't help that he barely saw her. He wanted to meet the woman who haunted his dreams or memories or whatever it was. The guilty conscience that he hadn't done it on the first day still plagued him, but yesterday everything had changed.

After the neverending week he had finally spoken to her and it went better than he thought it would. It was surprising how easy it was to talk to her and he liked her more than a normal amount. The connection he felt with her had been driving him crazy the whole time and the previous dream explained a lot too. “We were lovers…” He whispered to himself. He held his blushing face in his hands. The feeling of butterflies raging in his stomach from his dream were still very present. He wasn't sure if the feelings he felt were his own or those of his inherited memory. Were they even inherited memories? If so, then he was missing some big important parts of this story because nothing he saw actually made sense.

He sighed and was already on his way to the kitchen to get some breakfast since he was hungry, but that didn’t stop his thoughts. Was this perhaps a case of reincarnation? When he was writing his thesis, back in his student era, there was one time he had come across this topic but hadn’t paid much attention to it since it was not part of the work. Maybe he should have done that. He sighed. He would have to investigate the matter more thoroughly. There should be records of his ancestors at his parents’ place. Next time he visited, he would take a look at the Rengoku archives.

~ ~ ~

The blonde man tried to focus but had trouble because his eyes kept wandering over to Y/N. It didn't make it any easier that she was sitting right across from him and was therefore directly in his field of vision. Everything she did seemed incredibly familiar. The way she frowned slightly in concentration, or the way she pushed her hair behind her ear even though there wasn't a loose strand hanging. Things he had not yet seen in his dreams, but still seemed infinitely familiar to him. He tried hard to not let the feelings he had in his dreams take over in his real life. He didn't want to be influenced by something that happened in the past or in a dream, but how would that work? It was simply impossible not to surrender to her shy yet charming nature. Or the way she treated everyone around her with such kindness. Kyojuro had to admit to himself that he had fallen head over heels for the English teacher.

Suddenly a ball of paper hit him in the head and made him snap out of his thoughts. He looked for the one who was responsible for it and found him. Confused, over Shinazugawa's angry face he tried to interpret why he was angry again. He couldn't find an explanation and simply dismissed it. He was not looking at him anymore anyway. Kyojuro’s gaze moved back up to Y/N and then to Kocho who was sitting right next to her and then across to the math teacher who also seemed to be constantly staring in the same direction. Wait- Was he staring at Y/N too? Hot jealousy burned within him that he had never felt before in his life. An unexpected aggressiveness spread through his thoughts and he imagined himself hitting Shinazugawa. He was shocked immediately after the moment he realized what he was actually thinking. What was wrong with him?! Nothing like this had ever happened to him before, since he was not the jealous type. He had had relationships in the past, but he had never felt this way before.

He took a deep breath to calm himself down and stared at his papers so as not to let the traitorous feelings out.

"Finally done..." Y/N  had just finished checking the exams of the students and stretched her arms. A relieved sigh escaped her, she finally had the whole weekend for herself and she was so looking forward to her bathtub where she would put on a clay mask, laze around and actually read a book and not the illegible notes of her students. She was excited to treat herself like this and cuddle afterwards with her cat Shimizu.

But she couldn't fully immerse herself in her dreams when suddenly two fuchsia colored eyes appeared in front of her. "Hey, pretty new colleague! We have a monthly drinking party with all the teachers today. You should come with us, since you are one of us now, and this way we can all get to know each other better!" 

She blinked at him several times and was wondering if he just flirted with her but then she remembered how he usually was which relaxed her immediately. Her gaze wandered around to see if the others were also so enthusiastic about this idea. Obanai and Sanemi were caught up in a conversation. 

Kanae gave her a friendly smile and nodded encouragingly. "Y/N, you should come. Our drinking parties are always very fun and that way we can all be friends." Friends... Yes, that was something she definitely needed.

 "Yes, Y/N, come with us! The more the merrier!" Kyojuro's loud exclamation had thrown her off track and she looked back and forth between them before nodding finally in agreement.

~ ~ ~

It didn't take long for the orders to be placed. Y/N sat a little shyly between the big, but kindhearted Gyomei, and Giyuu. She knew that Giyuu wasn't the talkative type and you were surprised that he even had come along with them. But what Giyuu lacked in communication, Tengen provided in an amazing way. He talked about a lot of things and introduced all his colleagues to her again. They also seemed a little more relaxed now when they weren't fenced in by the school walls. The food came and everyone started to grab it when she suddenly noticed something. She looked at the blonde history teacher who was happily eating one plate after another. He seemed to have a religious experience with his soup filled with sweet potato, saying umai to himself as he sipped it.

Y/N was fascinated by it and forgot to touch her own plate while she watched him. He didn't let his mood be spoiled when some of his colleagues rolled their eyes in a bit of annoyance. No, he continued to eat and looked so happy as he mumbled with his mouth full how tasty it was. Y/N could see how some of the colleagues were face palming or smiling in a slight embarrassment. But her? She was so charmed by his cute behavior that she could do nothing other than testing her head on her hands and watched the whole situation with a delighted smile. 

After dinner the sake was brought and she had to politely decline because she had come by car and driving drunk was out of the question for her. She noticed that Kyojuro wasn't drinking either.

“But how am I supposed to ask you embarrassing secrets when you don’t drink at all?” Tengen looked at her reproachfully, but she just laughed and poured him another cup.

She was having way too much fun here at the table and Giyuu next to her also seemed to be having fun as a smile was reflected on his lips. Maybe it was also because of the salmon with daikon he was eating messily, bits of the food stuck to his cheeks. “Well, for every bowl of sake you drink, you can ask me something embarrassing.” He already had several cups and was sure that he can’t drink much more so she should be safe.

“Bad idea. Uzui is able to hold one’s drink.” 

She turned her head to Giyuu who was looking at her and knew that she would lose this competition. She wanted to step back, but the art teacher had already ordered more sake for the table and she knew that embarrassing questions were about to rain down on her. 

She didn’t think Tengen could handle a bowl the size of a regular water glass, nevermind several of them, but he proved her wrong. He drank three whole bowls.

“Are you a virgin?”

“No,” Y/N blushed, choking on a bit of her food while forcing the answer as quick as she could out of her throat.

“Are you a dom, a sub, or a switch?” he asked shamelessly with a grin.

She covered her face, giving Tengen the opportunity to wink at Kyojuro. “I am not gonna answer that!”

“That’s okay, your reaction gave it away. Next question: Do you have a boyfriend?” he smirked mischievously.

“Yes.”

A/N: Oh, what have I done? *laughs maliciously* Also I hope some of you noticed the little reference to Flame and Water I put there. If you did, let me know in the replies ❤️

#Oh my👀 #sunnys work #shards of glass #kyojuro x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer fanfic #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba fanfic #kny #kny fanfic #kimetsu gakuen fanfic #kimetsu academy fanfic #kimetsu academy #kyojuro rengoku #kyojuro x y/n #kyojuro x you #kyojuro x oc #kyojuro rengoku x reader #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku x you #rengoku x reader #rengoku x y/n #rengoku x oc #kimetsu gakuen #teacher kyojuro #teacher!kyojuro #teacher rengoku #kanae kocho #sanemi shinazugawa #tengen uzui

[ikenovjournals]

WALLY DARLING X READER Title: I Stare Into The Eyes Of Love

Summary: You experience a nightmare that seems oddly real, and it all has to do with meeting the infamous, Wally Darling.

There is a saying, that the eye is the window to the soul.

They reflect our every emotion,

You're so lovely, neighbor

our thoughts

You look so pretty, oops did I say it outloud?

our deepest desires

I do believe you're the absolute most

and our fears

I feel as though, I could just g̴̨̣͖̫̳̜̫̫̿̋̋̆̊́̃̄͠ơ̵̡̪̙͉͆̅̔̂̆̃̌̏̄̌̊̽̚b̷̫̬̤͎̼͓̬͎̟̳̤̲̲̾́̏̑͗̂͋͒͊͝ͅb̵͎̩̮̰̺͔̺̟̱͖̟͔̣̃͑͌͛̐͐̈́́̇̿̀̕͠ͅͅl̴̨̨͎̬̜̦̦͚͔̩͉̥̝͈̈͆̎͛̇̒̌̑̊̾́̅͊̓̕ë̵̛̞̤̙̘͖́̂̾̓̇̇̒̽ ̴̛̛̜̩̟̥̠̫͎̯̘͇͕̰̄̃̎͂̄́̇̕͝͠͠y̶̨̙̩̯̳͚̤͖̜̣̾̑͌͜ͅǫ̴͔̭̗͎̳̥̱̼͍̱̰̾͑̈̈͛͐̌́͝ǘ̵̞͇̆̎̈́̃͑̅͛̌͛͝ ̷̖̪̙̦̳̳͛̄̀̏̐̎̇̏̈́̇͝ͅu̶̧̨̧̪͎̯͇͕͙̭̟̳̦̼̥͛̑̔p̴̡̥̝͚̰̭͇̤͙͎̟̼͎̐̌͂͒̏͒͋͊͒̽̀͘͠ ̸̢͇͓̝͉̝̬̩̎̂̿̈́̑̾͌̓̄͝͝ͅb̶̤͓̈̈͐̀̈́́͌͝ỵ̵̡̼̥͓̭̬͓̯̣̼̳̝̓̄̎͜ ̷̨̧̹̖̙̝̹̰̳̆̆̓̏n̵̢̯̩͓̟͔̝͎͕͕̬̖͐̑͛̒̌̓̈́̀͑́̅͘̕̚͝ͅò̶̧͎̪̞͍̭̯͔̳̺̉̇̇́͆͘͜w̸̯͈̦͑̈́͗̍͐̈́͌̋̿͂͠͝ͅ.̴̡̛̯͔̯̻͎̭͕͔͎̞͊̌͗̐̿̕͝

You run frantically, the eyes watching you gradually getting bigger and more real and terrifying. You wanted to escape to anything, anything but this hellscape.

It doesn't help that running felt exhausting as you begin to think that the dark tunnel you've been sprinting to was truly infinite and there was nothing to escape those eyes.

But those eyes aren't the only thing you've been running away from.

You always thought Wally was a charming, goofy, little guy who loves his friends, Home, apples, painting, and you. oh did he love you.

And you felt it so much, Wally has always liked staring at everything but the way he stares at you is different, it was like he was glancing right through your soul, getting to know everything about you.

From mundane facts such as you're favorite hobbies, your favorite songs, and colors, to your dreams and ambitions, and finally, your fears.

He told you, he promised you that if you felt terrified of something, you could always approach him as he would do everything to keep you safe, for he truly and undoubtedly loves you.

And so when you came knocking t his door, panicking about strange eyes following you and weird nightmares about Home, he kept letting you in his Home, and cuddled you, kissing your tears away as sleep takes over.

You thought he was safe, you thought he was comfort, you thought.. he was home but-

"Y/N, you can't keep running forever."

And yet, you keep running, doing everything in your power to get away from this man...or was he even a man in the first place?

All you knew, was the moment you stayed for a single day at his Home, he did everything in his power to keep you beside him. He reassured you he was only doing this to protect you. But that was until you requested that he'd stopped. And at first, he looked like he complied, but the next thing you know, static took over your eyes.

And when you woke up, Wally was there standing right in front of your bounded self. He explained that he didn't want to do this when all he wanted was to keep you safe, or more else, keep you all to himself.

You couldn't protest even if you tried, he kept your mouth shut as he kept gushing about you. He was lovesick, and usually you'd find this endearing, but Wally has gone too far.

And so with the opportunity to escape, you kept running, running to avoid him, trying to ignore all of his threats and his remorseful cries that you tried to convince yourself where crocodile tears to keep going.

But alas, Wally had enough.

Through some power, he teleported right in front of you. And being exhausted and too scared to run away again. You surrendered, which Wally delightfully took.

"Good...See, that wasn't so bad?" He lovingly said as he hoisted you up in a bridal carry, all whilst looking you dead into your tired and weary eyes. Even now, he still lovingly stares at you, the love of his life, the one he deems the absolute most.

"You've been exhausting yourself with this nonsense running, my love. But don't fret, a lot of my TLC will get you right back up! After all." Wally whispered.

"You don't want to keep your eyes closed forever, do you?"

And you wake up.

#ikenovjournals #ikenovsmiles #hurt/comfort #wally darling #wally x reader #wally x y/n #wally x you #welcome home #fanfic #y/n gets a nightmare but gets comforted by wally #my first fanfic #T-T

[futureslaps]

The Captive - Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Hi everyone! This fanfic was inspired by “Bars” by Naavispider and the associated prompt. Please give it a read! Check it out here. Another huge thanks to Naavispider for taking a look at this before I posted it. I’m new on this site, so It means a lot! 💙

Summary: Neytiri grabs Spider before Quaritch can think to hold Kiri hostage. Forced to surrender, he is taken to Awa’atlu. The Sullys are happy their enemy is defeated, but for Spider, things are more complicated than ever before...

P.S.: Neteyam is alive in this because there’s no way Neytiri would accept Quaritch’s surrender if he killed her son. 

Quaritch felt the pain before he opened his eyes. A dull throbbing on the rear of his head had appeared the moment he came to. He let out a small groan as he turned himself onto his back on the mud.

Wait, mud?

His eyes shot open to see a canvas roof above him. Where the hell was he?

He moved to sit up, wincing at the pain as several more injuries made themselves known. He surveyed his surroundings. It was some kind of hut. A Na’vi hut, no doubt. A tree stood in the center, supporting the thick canvas around him. It would have been almost charming, were it not for the thick wooden bars dividing the small building in two.

Bars clearly to meant to hold him in.

Memories of the previous day slowly came back to him. The appearance of Sully, the battle with the Na’vi, the Sully kids boarding to rescue Spider…

Shit, Spider

His mind quickly forgot about the rest of the battle as he recalled the confrontation with Sully and his psychotic wife. He’d never considered himself capable of surrendering, much less to his sworn enemy. He’d have fought with his bare hands if it came down to it.

But the image of his son under the knife of Sully’s woman, hatred in her eyes, had been seared into his mind.

It had caught him off guard. Spider had never tried to hide his admiration for his so-called family. He always made sure to let Quaritch know who had taught him one skill or another, and how they were infinitely better at doing it than Quaritch was. He didn’t often talk about the Sullys directly, but when he did, he’d never had a bad thing to say. The thought of his enemies using their own supposed child against him had never crossed his mind.

He had quickly thrown down his weapons and raised his hands, his mind filled with a mixture of shock, rage, and fear. He had tried to goad Sully to kill him, and then…

He guessed the throbbing on the back of his head explained why he couldn’t remember anything else.

His mind went back to Spider. The last time he had seen him, he still had a knife to his heart. Was he even, okay? Was he tied up in some prison shack like he was? He’d be damned if he let them keep his son caged like an animal…

Quaritch tried to ignore his throbbing injuries and started to get up but flopped onto his chest as he tried to move a foot under him. The various cuts and bruises on his body screamed at him, and he let out an involuntary growl.

He looked down at his legs for the first time. A thick length of rope-like material looped around his ankles, then stretched to one of the branches holding the roof of the hut. He could probably take apart the knot, but it was out of his reach, especially seeing as he couldn’t even stand properly.

He resorted to using his arms to pull himself across the dirt floor. His bindings allowed him to drag himself up to the bars, but no further. He prodded the wooden posts. They were old and weathered, but thick and stood firm in the ground.

He turned back and tested the binds. The material was primitive but strong, and he was in no condition to start trying to pull them apart.

He was stuck.

He pulled himself against the supporting tree and sat back.

Why was he even alive? Sully had been ready to kill him on the Sea Dragon.

Was he being toyed with?

Was spider safe?

He sighed as he leaned against the rough bark of the tree, listening to the ocean somewhere in the distance.

What the hell was he going to do now?

(…)

It had been nearly a day since they had returned from the battle, but Jake couldn’t help but stare warily at the makeshift prison on the edge of the village.

He was in there.

The man who had come back from the dead to kill him. The man who had held a gun to his children’s heads.  The man whose orders had put his son in a coma from which he may never wake.

Jake let out a low growl as he thought about Neteyam again. He was lucky to even be alive, one of the bullets had missed an artery by a hair’s width.

But he had still taken three rounds from a rifle. He had been on the cusp of death when they had returned to Awa’atlu, and only Ronal’s care had kept him from joining Eywa as Jake had made a desperate call to Norm. Three bullet extractions, countless stitches, and a blood transfusion later, Neteyam had finally been stabilized, but he remained unconscious and weak. Norm said he was hopeful, but it was painfully obvious he was holding off on saying things would be okay.

He hated the pain he felt, and the pain he knew his family was feeling.

And Colonel Miles Quaritch was right fucking there, beaten, and bound, at his mercy. Jake considered the possibility in his mind; it wouldn’t be too hard to…

“You should go to your family, Toruk Makto.” Jake heard Tonowari’s deep voice behind him.

“I know, I’m just… making sure he is secured.” Jake responded, still eying the prison.

“His confines are meant for animals much stronger than any Na’vi is, and the warriors guarding him are strong themselves.” Tonowari responded, moving closer. “You have my assurance he poses no danger.”

“He still shouldn’t be here. No matter where he is, or how he is, he is a danger to my family. We shouldn’t have spared him.”

“He surrendered, he asked Eywa’s mercy.” Tonowari responded sternly. “You know the implications as well as I do.”

“Mercy? Quaritch doesn’t ask for mercy!” Jake spat. “He’d probably kill himself with his own knife if he still had it! On the ship he demanded that I…”

“Do not let your hatred control you, Toruk Makto.” Tonowari responded, calmly, but seriously. “He will face judgement as Eywa commands. He will face a warrior’s trial, not be put down like a beast.”

Jake looked down and sighed. As much as he hated it, Tonowari was right. When Quaritch had thrown down his weapon and raised his hands, he had technically surrendered, and Eywa forbid the killing of a surrendered warrior. Tonowari had been sure to remind him after he knocked Quaritch out with the butt of his spear.

Neytiri holding Spider hostage had shocked Jake, but he still hadn’t expected Quaritch to surrender. He had drawn his own knife and braced himself when he saw the demon’s knife clatter to the floor.

The bastard hadn’t even known what he was doing. He’d asked Jake to kill him as the Metkayina approached, and Jake would have been happy to oblige if it weren’t for Tonowari’s presence.

He had no desire to show Quaritch the respect meant for a true Na’vi warrior, but he respected the Laws of Eywa, and he respected Tonowari.

“Go to your family.” Tonowari repeated. “Do not spend your day obsessing over this demon.”

Jake knew he was right. Quaritch wasn’t going anywhere at the moment, and his family needed him. He took one more look at the hut, then turned and started walking back toward the infirmary.

Two weeks until Quaritch’s trial

Two weeks until he finally ends this

---

I have a general idea of where I want to take this, but nothing is set in stone. Please let me know what you think! Planning a new chapter every few days. 

#avatar the way of water #recom quaritch #avatar 2 #spider socorro #miles quaritch #avatar quaritch #atwow #avatar jake

[kittenwhiskers]

Disagreement

Eddie makes plans to go out for a date with you, but you just want to spend this date at home with him. When the two of you can't come to an agreement, Eddie has a mischievous idea...

(This fic is Eddie x gn!reader, I'm thinking I'll make my next two fics include a male reader and a non-binary reader so everyone can have a little piece of the pie! Reader is 19-20 years old in this story. Enjoy!)

"Come on, sweetheart, we don't wanna be late~" Eddie beckoned in the doorway of his trailer, his leather jacket draped over his shoulder as he leaned against the doorframe.

"Late? What, did you make reservations?" You snickered, "it's a diner, darling."

Eddie rolled his eyes with a small grin. "You know what I mean, let's goooo!"

You sighed, shuffling toward the rack your coat was hanging from.

"Lunch sounds nice and all," you hummed, suddenly stopping in your tracks at the coat rack, before dramatically flopping down onto the couch behind you, "but having it here just sounds soooo much better..."

"What??" Eddie scoffed, leaning back into the living room just a bit, "you love Benny's!"

"Yes, you're right, I do," you agreed, your head slumping back and lazily dangling over the arm of the couch, "but I just wanna stay in today, can't we make an exception this once?"

Eddie gasped sharply, slamming his hand over his chest dramatically and stumbling against the wall. 

"Oh no, my fair (y/n) doesn't like my date ideas anymore!" he cried theatrically, crumpling over on himself, "my soul is shattered, I can't go on!"

You grinned and giggled at his little performance, lifting your head up a bit.

"Oh, come on, is having a date at home really that awful?"

Eddie peered up through his curly locks for a split second, before charging toward the couch and jumping to sit on your legs, grabbing you by your shoulders and pulling you up.

"It is when I want to show the world that I'm with the most charming, irresistible beauty that's ever existed!" he growled, playfully shaking you back and forth.

"Lies," you remarked with a smirk, "all lies, all of it."

Eddie's face twisted with false anger at your denial of his compliments, glaring at you through a squint.

You flinched and began to giggle nervously when Eddie's hands dove for you, grabbing wherever he could. "Oh, you little-"

But nothing happened, he stopped in his tracks suddenly. Still giggling under your breath with a nervous grin, you looked up at him, confused.

"Y'know what...? I just had an idea," he said while cocking his head, before shifting around to turn his back toward you, still sitting on your legs- and keeping you pinned to the couch.

"Munson," you spoke with suspicion in your tone, "what are you planning...?"

"Ohhh, just something to settle this little disagreement," Eddie hummed, easily working the sneakers off your feet, leaving you in just your little patterned socks. "I will keep you right here fooorr... 5 minutes," he said, looking up at a clock on the wall, "if you tap out before then, we go with my plan, and if you hold your own for those 5 minutes, we stay home just like you want... sound good, darling~?"

"Oh, you dick!" You cried, already trying to worm your legs out from under him, "there's literally like, an infinite amount of other ways we could settle this!"

Eddie placed his hands over your ankles with a gentle grip to stop your squirming, that action on its own eliciting a decent yelp from you- which only caused him to chuckle at how utterly adorable you were.

"Yeah, but... we're already here like this," Eddie rebutted, "it'd just be easier to stick with this method instead of wasting time we could be spending on a date to think of something else."

You knew that at this point, no matter how much you bargained or protested, Eddie was going to do this- and if you surrendered (or didn't go along with it at all), you two were going to that diner.

You opened your mouth to speak, but before you could say anything, Eddie was already scribbling his fingers along the bottoms of your feet, sending you into a cackling fit as you threw your head back into the couch.

"AHAHAHASSHOHOHOLE!" you screamed out, "YOHOHOU DIDN'T EHEVEN WAHAHARN MEHEHEEE!"

"I did so warn you!" he sang back like a child, a smug smirk on his face, "I told you exactly what the plan was!"

"YOHOHOU DIDN'T SAHAHAY WHEHEHEN!"

"Oh, was I supposed to?" Eddie hummed, dragging his blunt nails up your soft arches, his weight keeping you from instinctively yanking your legs back, "I didn't realize that was part of the rules.... the rules that I made."

You only freaked out more when you felt a rush of cold air hit the bare skin of your feet as Eddie yanked your socks off, carelessly tossing them to the side.

"I don't remember a rule saying these had to stay on, either~" he teased cheekily, ever-so-lightly dragging his fingertips up your bare soles and relishing in the ticklish squeal that rang past your lips.

"YOHOU DON'T PLAHAHAY FAHAHAIR!" You cried, bucking and wiggling beneath the metalhead.

"Hey now, you should be thanking me for giving you a chance here," he chuckled, "we both know I could've easily dragged your ass into the van!"

Another minute went by with Eddie targeting every inch of skin on your soles, making sure not to miss a single spot, but you held strong, not calling for a break even once. You didn't think it could get any worse, until you felt his touch move up, his fingertips brushing across the tops of your feet.

"Ohoho my god!" Eddie laughed, surprised and delighted by your intense reaction to the new sensation, "ahare the tops worse than the bottoms?"

It tickled so bad, but you were too stubborn to call it quits, so all you could do was sit there and scream your little heart out while your boyfriend teased you with his words and tortured you into submission... well, at least he hoped it would lead to that.

You couldn't tell how much time had passed before his touch finally relented, and you thought that was finally the end of it... until you felt him turn back around to face you.

"Alright, I'm pretty bored of that spot, time to focus elsewhere..." he huffed with a cheeky grin. As he raised his hands above you with wiggling fingers, you felt the rest of your body tense up in anticipation. These five minutes were really starting to feel like an eternity...

Once again leaving you with no warning, Eddie's hands dove for your ribs, squeezing around and scribbling into as many soft spots as he could find, giving you a dramatic evil laugh as you quickly dissolved into hysterics yet again.

"Give up, young hero!" He bellowed in the most cheesy villain voice you'd ever heard, "your strength is no match for my claws of tickly doom!" Admittedly, if you hadn't already been laughing from the attack, you probably would have laughed at his stupid theatrics. It was one of those things you really loved about him.

You didn't notice how Eddie's eyes widened as he glanced up at the clock on the wall. Shit, he only had a minute left before you'd win the bet. If his final move didn't make you throw in the towel, nothing would.

"You've presevered well through my attack, young hero," Eddie hummed, rolling up your top to expose your tummy, "I'm afraid you've left me no choice but to deal my most devastating attack~!"

  You tried to protest through your babbling, weakly fighting off Eddie's hands before he grabbed your wrists and pinned them on either side of you. Once he had you firmly down, he planted his lips right over your bellybutton, and blew a series of long, ticklish raspberries right on your tummy!

Even if you wanted to tap out, you had no words to say so. All you could do was lay there and scream till your laughter fizzled into silent wheezing. Even though he knew he was gonna lose this bet, Eddie was just in heaven. His heart melted over the sound of your laughter. He loved making you smile, he loved making you laugh, he loved being the one to bring that beautiful blush to your cheeks. 

He knew when enough was enough, however. When he heard you start to wheeze, he let up. He didn't even have to look at the clock to know the 5 minutes was up.

"Ugh, damnit," he groaned, throwing his head back as he fell to the other side of the couch, "you're too resilient, (l/n)."

"Fuh.. fuhuhuck yohohou..." you giggled breathlessly, not moving a muscle as you lay on the couch and recovered your air supply.

Eddie couldn't help but smile as he climbed across the couch and lied down next to you, scooping you up into his arms.

"Yeah, I deserved that," he chuckled, "guess we're staying here today."

Good. After the shit he just pulled, you needed a good cuddle session with your favorite metalhead.

#eddie munson #eddie x gn!reader #eddie x reader #reader insert #tickling #tickle #ler!eddie munson #lee!reader #feet tickles #tummy tickles #reader getting raspberried #upper body tickles #sfw tickles #cuddling #tickle fic #stranger things

[rubberizer92]

🌊 Prepare to be swept away by the captivating allure of Round 2 in Latex Legends League Season 4, where the element of water reigns supreme! 💦💫 Join us as we behold the mesmerizing presence of Itzan from Spain, clad in a stunningly textured rubber suit adorned with various shades of blue, evoking the serene depths of the ocean. 🇪🇸🔵✨

With each fluid movement, Itzan commands the attention of all who behold him, his intricate rubber attire reflecting the shifting hues of the aquatic realm. 🌊🔥 The gentle play of light dances across his form, accentuating his chiseled physique and casting a spell of enchantment upon his audience.

As the embodiment of aquatic elegance, Itzan invites us to immerse ourselves in the boundless depths of his allure, where every ripple and wave tells a story of passion and desire. 🧜‍♂️💙 His gaze holds the secrets of the ocean, drawing us into a world of mystery and wonder.

Join us in surrendering to the irresistible charm of Itzan as he navigates the currents of Round 2 in Latex Legends League. Engage with his post by liking, commenting, and saving to embark on a journey of aquatic enchantment. Together, let's dive into the infinite depths of desire and emerge as true legends of the latex realm! 💫🌊

#LLLSeason4 #AquaticElegance #LatexLegend #AI

[catalinadearagonsblog]

Katherine of Aragon and Anne Boleyn

Part One

Two women destined to be rivals in love, in power and in religion. One is the daughter of royalty, destined to become Queen of England since she was a baby. Her first husband died suddenly, and she married her brother-in-law, the young King Henry VIII. The other woman is the daughter of a family on the rise at court. She has been educated in courts abroad but has returned to her native England to serve the Queen of England.

Katherine of Aragon, a beloved Queen by English people, had "failed" to give Henry VIII a son. The royal couple had a pretty and intelligent daughter named Mary. Knew her duty, Katherine was to keep silent and look the other way when Henry took a mistress, which she did. The young Anne Boleyn was the sister of the King's mistress, and she quickly established herself as one of the most stylish and accomplished women at the court. George Cavendish, Wolsey’s servant and biographer, has argued that Henry VIII was "casting amorous eyes" towards Anne as early as 1523.

In 1523, Anne Boleyn's life revolved around her duties within the Queen's household. Katherine liked to surround herself with attractive young women, often to her own detriment, and was a benevolent mistress to those who served her, never failing in courtesy towards them, and taking an almost maternal interest in their lives. Young men were made welcome in the Queen's apartments, and there were plenty of opportunities for flirtation. Anne had attracted a number of suitors, and one young man who was smitten with her charms was Henry Percy, the 21-year-old heir to the earldom of Northumberland. Percy was the Cardinal Wolsey's servitor at table; whenever Wolsey went to court, Percy would go with him, but as soon as he had been excused from his duties, he would resort to the Queen's apartments, there to chat and flirt with the maids of honour. Thus he had met Anne Boleyn, and before very long he had eyes for no one else.

According to Cavendish, Anne’s burgeoning romance with Percy was stifled by Wolsey, acting upon Henry’s instructions because the king confessed to his loyal cardinal that he had a “secret affection” for the lady himself. Anne was sent away from court in disgrace to Hever. She spent her time idly waiting for a summons back to court and the signal that she had been forgiven. By late 1525 or early 1526 Anne Boleyn was back in the household of Queen Katherine. Henry VIII’s affair with Anne’s sister, Mary, had ended some time before 1526. He was therefore looking for a new mistress during the early months of that year when he first noticed the object of his friend, Thomas Wyatt’s, affections. Wyatt may not, at first, have realised how serious the king’s feelings were and he attempted to compete with the king for Anne. Wyatt was sent away for a time to ensure that the way was clear for the king to make his advances.

Since Henry could not marry her Anne probably enjoyed a mild flirtation with him but, ultimately, stopped short of agreeing to become his mistress. Henry, who was used to women surrendering the instant he beckoned, was intrigued. It was new for him to be placed in the position of having to beg for sexual favours; far from being angry or irritated, he was captivated, and Anne at once became infinitely more desirable. According to Anne's biographer, George Wyatt, Queen Katherine tried to protect her maid of honour from the monarch’s amorous advances and Anne remained loyal to her queen: "how could I injure a princess of such great virtue?". Anne resisted Henry for over a year, frequently absenting herself from court and his presence. He cajoled and pleaded. He made promises and gave gifts. Above all, he wrote letters. Anne’s feelings were in turmoil following the king’s offer of marriage and she expressed this fact in a gift she sent to Henry along with her acceptance.

In May 1527 Henry initiated annulment proceedings to rid himself of the ageing Queen Katherine. He wanted a declaration that his marriage to Katherine was invalid. This would mean not only that Henry was unmarried in 1527 but that he had never been married in 1509. According to this line of argument, therefore, Katherine’s status was once more that of the widow of his brother Arthur – the Princess Dowager of Wales – and princess Mary a bastard. For Katherine, then, it was as though the Crusades were on her own doorstep. The “secret matter” started of for the queen as a straightforward struggle to make Henry overcome his unfounded scruples of conscience and return to her as her God-given husband, but it escalated over the years into a battle not just for herself and her daughter but for the preservation of nothing less than her “Holy Catholic Faith” itself.

In 1528, Henry housed both women together under the same roof at Greenwich. Henry began showering Anne with fine jewellery and clothes, and saw that she was lodged in splendid apartments close to that of the King. The courtiers made much of her, using her as an intermediary between themselves and the King, and she was soon revelling in her growing influence and power. To confuse things further, both Katherine and Henry still felt obliged to behave in public as if nothing untoward was happening. It seems that the queen went out of her way to meet Anne and Henry, singly and together, using her presence in an attempt to divide, or at least chaperone them. George Wyatt also talks of card games that Katherine instigated with Anne, in an apparent attempt to make Anne show her deformed finger (if you believe she had one!), and Katherine’s famous remark to Anne: "My lady Anne, you have good hap to stop at a king, but you are not like others, you will have all or none”. On the other hand, Katherine behaved impeccably, never showing any spark or kind of grudge or displeasure. According to George Cavendish, Queen Katherine showed Anne special tenderness:

Notwithstanding, she showed neither to Mistress Anne nor unto the king, any spark or kind of grudge or displeasure, but took and accepted all things in good part, and with wisdom and great patience dissimulated the same. She held Mistress Anne in more estimation for the king’s sake than she had before.

Perhaps Katherine decided it was safest to keep her enemy close and that her presence would prove restrictive to the pair, preventing them achieving greater intimacy or plotting her downfall behind her back. Also, she would have maintained that as England’s anointed queen of eighteen years, it was her right and her duty to be visible at court, in the palaces she had been inhabiting for so long, accessible to the people and served at table according to her due. She may have hoped that her presence would be enough to provoke Anne to shame or drive her away. Anne must have found the proximity to her rival oppressive and she often spent time at Hever in the early years of the divorce proceedings.

The Boleyn family received honours from the king. Sir Thomas Boleyn became Earl of Wiltshire and Ormonde; Anne's brother George received the title of Viscount Rochford, while she herself was in future to be known as the Lady Anne Rochford. At a state banquet held to mark the occasion, Anne took precedence over all the ladies present (who did not include Queen Katherine) and was given the place of honour at the King's side. 'The very place allotted to a crowned Queen', wrote the Emperor's ambassador indignantly. Henry was giving Anne every honour he could, every mark of respect – she was being openly treated as if she were already queen. Anne was given her own court, which rivalled the queen’s. Greater court, noted the French ambassador, was being paid to her every day ‘than has been paid to the Queen for a long time’. Henry was determined to show that he was deeply committed to marrying Anne. "kissing her and treating her in public as though she were his wife" according to the papal legate, Cardinal Campeggio.

Sources:

Licence, Amy. Anne Boleyn: Adultery, Heresy , Desire

Weir, Alison. The Six Wives of Henry VIII

Fox, Julia. Sister queens : the noble, tragic lives of Katherine of Aragon and Juana, Queen of Castile

Tremlett, Giles. Catherine of Aragon: Henry’s Spanish Queen

Fraser, Antonia. The Six Wives of Henry VIII

#catherine of aragon #katherine of aragon #catalina de aragon #henry viii #catalina de aragón #anne boleyn

[idolumz]

𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍,        𝐸𝐷𝑊𝐴𝑅𝐷    𝐴𝑁𝑇𝐻𝑂𝑁𝑌.            ⇀            surrender    to    the    fume        /        it's    all    flesh,        +        𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍    𝚘𝚞𝚝,        +        forgotten    now.

༊*·˚࿐　　　　✞　　　　𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁    𝙾𝙽𝙴,        or:        overview.

full    name.        edward    anthony    cullen. age.        physically,    twenty2        /        actually,    122. date    +    place    of    birth.        june    20th,    1901        ;        chicago,    illinois,    usa. species.        vampire. nationality.        american. gender.        demi    man. pronouns.        he/them. orientations.        biromantic    bisexual. loyalties.        the    olympic    coven.

notable    family.        carlisle    cullen,    adopted    father.    esme    cullen,    adopted    mother.    alice    cullen,    adopted    sister.    emmett    cullen,    adopted    brother.    rosalie    hale,    adopted    sister.    jasper    hale,    adopted    brother.

༊*·˚࿐　　　　✞　　　　𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁    𝚃𝚆𝙾,        or:        biographical.

edward    anthony    masen        (        the    second,    a    fact    that    nobody    is    letting    him    forget    any    -    fuckin’    -    time    soon    !        )        is    born    the    only    son    to    edward        &        elizabeth    masen.    beloved,    beleaguered    child        —        adored        &        doomed,    in    equal    measures,    by    singular    status.    mother    teeters    on    overbearing        +        father    impresses    upon    baby    -    faced    little    boy    that    the    family    legacy    is    his    to    bear,    on    spindly    little    shoulders    not    designed    for    such    a    burden.    

the    masens    are    moneyed,    comfortably    so,    courtesy    of    edward    masen    snr’s    role    as    a    highly    successful    lawyer        ;        allows    him    to    send    his    only    son    to    private    schools        (        catholic,    naturally        —        more    on    this    later        )        &        music    lessons    alike        /        god,    how    he    takes    to    it.    brilliant    mind,    natural    charm        …        oh,    to    have    it    all        !!        (        elizabeth    claims    she    gets    it    from    him,        +        she’s    right.    they’re    both    effervescent,    warm    characters        ;        inviting,    with    laughter    in    deep    brown    hues.    he    looks    so    much    like    her,    all    dark    hair        +        mouth    built    to    curl    into    a    smile,    to    catch    on    a    canine    as    he’s    trying    to    bite    back    a    grin    that’ll    reach    into    every    corner    of    a    beautifully    chiseled    countenance.        )

there’s    a    marked    difference    in    the    before        +        after,    with    him.    before:        he’s    got    the    whole    world    in    the    palm    of    his    hand,    knows    it    too.    clever,    talented,    charming        …        he    has    plans,    to    get    a    degree        +        to    make    a    difference    in    the    world.    to    do    something    useful,    to    become    a    man    his    mother    could    burst    with    pride    over        /        do    you    think    she    would    be    proud    of    you    now,    boy        ?        with    crimson    wetting    the    corners    of    your    downturned    lips        ?

cue:        the    spanish    influenza        !        his    father    goes    down    first,    a    quiet    passing    that    edward    can’t    bring    himself    to    properly    mourn.        (        can    you    grieve    for    a    man    who    felt    more    like    a    ghost        ?        )        his    mother    is    next,    infinitely    less    quietly            –            she    cries,    she    screams,    she    clings    to    whatever    shreds    of    life    she    can.    she    begs    the    golden    -    eyed    doctor    to    look    after    her    boy        (        to    do    what    others    can’t    for    him,    doctor,    please,    he’s    my    world-        )        +        it’s    not    long    after    that    when    she    slips    away,    goes    still        +        quiet    in    a    way    he’s    never    known.    his    heart    cleaves    in    two    for    her,        +        his    own    illness    ratchets    up    shortly    after.

he    thinks    he    imagines    it,    being    lifted        /        whisked    away.    he’s    unaware    of    where    he    is,    what’s    going    on        …        barely    conscious,    but    the    world    comes    to    in    vivid    carmine    when    carlisle    whispers    something    like    a    prayer        &        sinks    his    teeth    in.    he’s    never    known    agony    quite    like    it            —            for    a    moment,    he    genuinely    thinks    he’s    dead        !        (        god    knows    he    begged    enough    for    it,    that    he    could    go    gentle    into    that    good    night        …        )        instead    of    the    pearly    gates,    he    wakes    up    with    a    ravenous    hunger    he    can’t    explain        /            a    disquiet    in    his    very    bones,    like    they’ve    been    rearranged.    he’s    aware,    in    that    split    second,    that    something    has    become    fundamentally    different    about    his    existence.

carlisle    is    remarkably    patient        +        kind    with    him,    in    the    early    days.    it’s    so    easy    to    trust    him,    with    his    gentle    disposition,    his    preternatural    calm.    in    measured,    even    tones    he    explains    the    minutiae    of    this    lifestyle    that    they    share.    it    doesn’t    take    long    for    an    unbreakable    bond    to    form        /        for    all    the    monetary    worth    in    the    world,    edward    masen    snr.    failed    to    give    his    child    any    tangible    emotional    connection.    carlisle    is    so    forthcoming    with    it,    so    genuine    in    his    affection,    that    he    stops    becoming    a    friend    and    more    the    father    that    edward    deserved.    by    1920,    he’s    changed    his    surname:    cullen,    here        +        ever    after.

incidentally,    the    first        +        last    time    edward    unintentionally    reads    carlisle’s    mind    is    within    the    first    year.    it’s    just            —            he’s    so    concerned,    has    so    many    unspoken    questions    just    rattling    around    in    there,        &        edward    snaps.    all    it    takes    is    a    particularly    loud    thought            —            “will    you    stop    with    the    questions?”        “i    wasn’t    asking    any.”        telepathy,    arriveth        !        always    so    good,    at    reading    people    like    open    books        …        it    flourishes    into    a    skill    he    hones    over    time.        (        he        +        his    family    have    a    code,    though        /        they    invite    him    in,    as    it    were,    like    a    knock    at    the    door.    otherwise,    their    business    is    their    business        &        he’s    leaving    them    the    fuck    to    it.        )

​​​​​​​it’s    just    the    two    of    them,    for    those    first    few    years            –            in    1921,    he    brings    esme    home.        (        he’s    always    had    a    soft    spot    for    mothers,        +        she’s    an    exceptional    one.        )        carlisle    tends    to    her    so    lovingly,    edward    sees    the    writing    on    the    wall    well    before    they    do        !        it’s    his    first    time    as    best    man    at    a    wedding,    grinning    like    a    fool    the    entire    time.

(        oh,    the    dark    period        …        four    years,    something    of    a    teenaged    rebellion    when    he    breaks    off    to    go    do    god    knows    what.    he    doesn’t    enjoy    dwelling    on    it,    the    bloodshed        /        the    bitterness    that    brewed    underneath    perfect    -    porcelain    skin,    rancorous    in    a    way    he    didn’t    know    he    could    be.    by    1931,    he’s    gotten    over    his    reputation    (taylor’s    version)    era        &        rejoined    the    family.    vegetarian    ever    since,        +        gratefully    so        !        what    he    won’t    ever    regret,    though,    is    tasting    charles    evenson’s    fear        /        it    made    him    so    succulent,    so    sweet.        )

the    family    grows            —            rosalie    joins    in    1933,    emmett    in    1935.        (        they’re    so    in    love    that    it    turns    his    stomach    a    little        /        first    instance    where    something    that    might    be    loneliness    sparks    somewhere    beneath    his    ribcage,    destined    to    be    quashed    every    time    he    feels    its    telltale    ache.    )        1950    brings    alice        +        jasper;    alice    takes    it    upon    herself    to    move    into    his    room    within    the    first    hour    of    being    part    of    the    family,    to    his    utter    horror.        (        their    wedding    is    the    third    he    attends,    just    as    joyful    as    the    first.    if    he’s    suppressing    a    horrific    sense    of    desolation    the    entire    time,    then    that’s    his    goddamned    business.    alice    can    tell    him    that    she    sees    someone    in    his    future    all    she    damn    likes,    he’s    not    convinced.        )        they’re    a    tight    unit,    from    then    on            —            far    from    a    perfect    family,    that    much    is    painfully    true,    but    he    loves    them    with    an    unmistakeable    fierceness.

+        so    the    rest    of    his    life    unfolds,    a    blur:        more    places    than    he    cares    to    name,    degrees    collected        /        that    goddamned    graduation    cap    collage    will    haunt    him    for    eons.        (        as    a    rule,    he    favours    medicine,    psychological    sciences.    he    flirted    with    economics    very    briefly,    found    out    he    hated    it        !        every    few    years,    he’ll    fuck    around    in    a    different    academic    sandpit,    to    varying    levels    of    success.    the    only    one    he    hasn’t    done    is    law        …        call    it    a    grudge,    given    that    edward    masen    snr.    was    hellbent    on    him    entering    the    same    field.        )        they    move    around,    settle    as    long    as    they    can,    move    on        ;        it    works    out,    for    the    most    part.    he’s    never    been    able    to    quell    that    unsettling    notion,    though,    that    he    might    just    be    missing    something.    someone.    whatever.

༊*·˚࿐　　　　✞　　　　𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁    𝚃𝙷𝚁𝙴𝙴,        or:        personal.

sullen,    brooding,    overdramatic    dickhead.    i    fully    believe    tht    his    siblings    hv    tried    to    push    him    off    several    bridges        (        very    much    the    scene    in    gilmore    girls    where    luke    shoves    jess    into    the    lake        )        sheerly    bc    he’s    annoyed    them        <3        in    terms    of    how    this    affects    how    he    interacts    w    other    people        …        i    think    he’d    avoid    it    as    much    as    humanly    possible,    but    it’s    far    more    funny    to    inundate    him    with    it        +        watch    him    squirm.

the    fact    that    he    drives    a    volvo    remains    devastating    canon.    he    is    now    dangerously    attached    to    it. he    loves    his    volvo    so    goddamn    much.    he    has    a    fucking    arsenal    of    flashy    sports    cars,    his    entire    family    does        —        but    he's    gone        +        gotten    overly    attached    to    his    shitty    little    volvo.

pretentious.    i    know    it    in    my    gut.    the    classical    music    was    only    the    beginning    of    it.    asked    about    his    favourite    book        ?        the    singular    novel    of    some    long    -    dead    writer    that    the    square    root    of    fuck    all    people    have    heard    about.    favourite    movie        ?        he’s    barely    holding    back    a    tangent    about    when    italian    cinema    was    at    its    peak.    begging    someone    to    just    bash    him    over    a    shovel        +        put    him    out    of    his    misery        !    

current,        +        only,    heir    of    the    masen    family    fortune    /    manor.    for    what    it’s    worth,    he’s    treating    it    as    a    creative    writing    project        ;        he    'creates'    a    new    heir    every    few    decades,    comes    forth,    claims    the    fortune,    lets    that    heir    die,    rinse,    repeat.    he’s    never    gotten    a    formal    law    degree,    but    fuck    if    he    can’t    write    a    damn    good    will.

pathologically    bricked    but    god,    let’s    not    get    into    that.    fella’s    essentially    the    teenage    boy    at    bible    camp    who    just    learned    what    sins    of    the    flesh    were        &        got    hot        +        bothered    about    it        /        never    met    another    mindreader        &        he’s    thanking    several    long    -    dead    gods    for    that    fact,    because    they’d    never    get    over    how    chronically    horny        &        how    cripplingly    sad    he    is    about    it.

#༊*·˚࿐ ✞ 𝙲𝙻𝙰𝚂𝚂𝙸𝙵𝙸𝙴𝙳: 𝖾. 𝖼𝗎𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗇‚ established. #cure:intro

[jrueships]

https://twitter.com/buffalobills/status/1529976929482309632?s=21&t=Ag--erC0mJX4mxUhDCtMscoV1aFOzSfWDk1EbpCZnVs

“Football man”

Diggs short a*s shorts

*chefs kiss*

OMG THIS IS SO CUTE!!!!! Ed trying to loose waterbottle cap prank diggs.. Allen INSTANTLY noticing it and trying to protect him... HUSBANDS!!!! thank u sm for showing me this 😭😭, LETS TALK!!!

Diggs short ass shorts.. HIS TRACK BOOTY IN FULL FORM😭😭!! i hate him. Ed throwing his hands up in harmless surrender as soon as allen moves into the scene.... they already know not to mess with the husband... and stef just squinting at him in confusion wondering why Ed is all smiley, but is still otherwise clueless to Ed's prank plot

Josh pointing at it but getting Ignored lol

Tries to save diggs.. diggs thinks hes just thirsty and wants him to wait his turn so he moves it away >:]

This is so playground flirting 🙄 allen trying to actually HELP diggs and diggs being all 'no you CAN'T have it 😤😈' AHHH they're so cute <33 princess diggs please just let your husband have the waterbottle HE IS TRYING TO PREVENT A WET TSHIRT CONTEST FROM HAPPENING RN ‼️‼️

FINALLY he grabs it .... this picture... um. Turns to theater lit class with teacher glasses on my nose... i think we all know what This represents 😳...

He then shows stef it's been unscrewed... then FIXES it FOR him ?@?!?? He really didn't have to do that BUT HE DID!!!!!!!! acts of service 🥰🥰 thank u brave knight for saving the kingdom from flood <3 AND DOING IT ALL WHILE LOOKING AT ED LIKE 'i can't BELIEVE you, on MY wife??!?!????' Wow.. like. It's like with this visor it makes him actually seem... cool 😳 what a heartthrob 😻😻

DIGGS SMITTEN !!!!!!!!!!!! Smiling so charmed at him like he moved mountains instead of screwed on a water cap.. pic 1/infinite of the 'get someone who looks at you like diggs looks at josh' gallery. Also mckenzie standing there in his short shorts and long stockings HELP??? GET OUTTA HERE SICKLY VICTORIAN CHILD???????

Love wins. + bonus mckenzie slug reaction

#IT'S HUSBANDS AGAINST THE WORLD!!!!! #this was one of the cutest things EVER aaaa I HOPE THE BILLS GET MORE STUFF LIKE THIS ON CAMERA #with their added goofyass soundeffects lmao.. making stef say 'i love u man' when they hifive.. they push the propaganda truly #love how josh is just known as 'football man' he doesnt get a famous cool name thatll get him recognized BCS HE DOESNT WANT ONE!!! #he just wants to be FOOTBALL MAN and take care of the GREATEST HUSBAND EVER!!! #even if he can be a little stinkster sometimes by not letting allen fix the waterbottle even tho theres CLEARLY smthin wrong wittit #like did diggs NOT feel the water slipping out when he shook it at the beginning ??? #his thighs... his lil shoulder tilt away from josh when he tries to help him... babygirl.... #ed IMMEDIATELY running away when he sees josh coming too like WOW stef really IS joshs babygirl!!!! and EVERYONE knows it ! #stef has to be reminded everyday because hes needy and laps up reaffirmation tho #i love them... THEY ARE MARRIED UR HONORRRRRRR ur H000000NERRRRR #why are stef and mckenzie dressed like that 😭 why are they like this.... anything to make the boys go wild i guess 😭 #it's like the cheerleader wearing the shortest skirt possible during a game she knows her bf will play in.. they r so in down bad... #diggs/allen #ted asks #mckenzie/davis #i hate that stupid mouthguard isaiah has in his mouth EVERY time now SPIT IT OUT ‼️‼️ #he looks so stupid 😭

[bhagvadgita]

Verse 11.51 - Vishwarup Darshan Yoga

अर्जुन उवाच |

दृष्ट्वेदं मानुषं रूपं तव सौम्यं जनार्दन | इदानीमस्मि संवृत्त: सचेता: प्रकृतिं गत: || ५१||

Arjun said: 

O Shree Krishna, seeing Your gentle human form (two-armed), I have regained my composure and my mind is restored to normal.

This verse marks the end of the eleventh chapter of the Bhagvad Gita, where Shree Krishna reveals His Cosmic Form (viśhwarūp) to Arjun, who is overwhelmed by the sight of the Lord's infinite power and glory. Arjun sees the entire creation within the body of Shree Krishna, as well as the past, present, and future events. He also sees the destruction of the Kauravas and other enemies, who are being devoured by the Lord's fiery mouths. Arjun is terrified and awestruck by this vision, and he praises and surrenders to Shree Krishna with devotion and humility.

Arjun then requests Shree Krishna to withdraw His cosmic form and resume His gentle human form, which is dear to him. Shree Krishna obliges and shows Arjun His four-armed form, which is the original form of God, and then His two-armed form, which is the manifestation of His grace and love for His devotees. Arjun is relieved and delighted to see Shree Krishna's familiar and pleasing form, and he expresses his gratitude and joy in this verse. He says that he has regained his composure and his mind is restored to normal, implying that he was disturbed and bewildered by the vision of the universal form.

The verse also indicates the difference between the Cosmic Form and the personal form of God. The universal form is the manifestation of God's majesty and might, which inspires awe and fear in the beholder. It is also the form of God's justice and law, which ensures the order and harmony of the creation. The personal form, on the other hand, is the manifestation of God's beauty and bliss, which inspires love and joy in the devotee. It is also the form of God's mercy and grace, which bestows liberation and happiness to the seeker. Arjun prefers the personal form over the universal form, as he is attached to Shree Krishna as his friend and guide.

There are many verses from other Vedic texts that are similar to this verse, as they describe the experience of seeing the Cosmic Form or the personal form of God. 

- In the Yoga Vasistha (6.2.125), the sage Vasistha says:

यथा विश्वं भगवति तथा भगवान् विश्वे | अविभागेन विभक्तं विभागेनाविभक्तम् ||

As the universe is in God, so is God in the universe. He is undivided in division, and divided in un-division.

This verse is part of the dialogue between Vasistha and Rama, where the former teaches the latter the Supreme knowledge of the Self. The verse explains the paradoxical nature of God, who is both transcendent and immanent, one and many, infinite and finite. He is the substratum of the universe, as well as the indweller of all beings. He is undivided in His essence, but appears as divided in His manifestations. He is divided in His diversity, but remains as undivided in His unity. This is similar to the vision of the Cosmic Form, where Arjun sees Shree Krishna as the source and the support of the universe, as well as the essence and the identity of all beings.

- In the Bhagavata Purana (10.14.7), the sage Brahma says:

यथा हृदि तथा बहिर्यथा बहिर्तथा हृदि | यथा विश्वं तथा त्वं यथा त्वं तथा विश्वम् ||

As You are within, so You are without. As You are without, so You are within. As the universe is, so You are. As You are, so the universe is.

This verse is part of the prayer of Brahma, who praises Shree Krishna after witnessing His pastimes in Vrindavan. The verse expresses the non-dual vision of Brahma, who sees Shree Krishna as the innermost Self of all beings, as well as the outermost Reality of all phenomena. He sees no difference between Shree Krishna and the universe, as both are the expressions of the same Supreme Consciousness. He sees Shree Krishna as the personal form of God, who is full of sweetness and charm, as well as the universal form of God, who is full of power and glory. This is similar to the vision of the Cosmic Form, where Arjun sees Shree Krishna as the personal and the impersonal aspect of God, who is the cause and the effect of the universe.

#vishwarupdarshan yoga #gita #yoga #bhagavadgita #spirituality #yogi #meditation

[lindajenni]

aug 27

sunday solace - Himself

"He brought me forth also into a large place; he delivered me; because he delighted in me." psa 18:19

and what is this “large place”? what can it be but God Himself, that infinite being in whom all other beings and all other streams of life terminate? God is a large place indeed. and it was through humiliation, through abasement, through nothingness that david was brought into it. — madame guyon

“I bare you on eagle’s wings, and brought you unto Myself." exo 19:4

fearing to launch on “full surrender’s” tide, i asked the Lord where would its waters glide my little bark, “to troubled seas i dread?” “unto Myself,” He said.

weeping beside an open grave i stood, in bitterness of soul i cried to God: “where leads this path of sorrow that i tread?” “unto Myself,” He said.

striving for souls, i loved the work too well; then disappointments came; i could not tell the reason, till He said, “I am thine all; unto Myself I call.”

watching my heroes — those i loved the best — i saw them fail; they could not stand the test, even by this the Lord, through tears not few, unto Himself me drew.

unto Himself! no earthly tongue can tell the bliss i find, since in His heart i dwell; the things that charmed me once seem all as naught; unto Himself i’m brought.

public domain content taken from streams in the desert by mrs. charles cowman.

tho it shall be very tempestuous round about, i will not fear what man may do. "for in the time of trouble He shall hide me in His pavilion: in the secret of His tabernacle shall He hide me; He shall set me up upon a rock." psa 27:5 we all know what that rock is and that it is solid and cannot be struck a second time.

#jesus is coming #prayer #faith #rapture

[ryuojun]

VERSES

ENACTOR a young warlord on his way to greatness. the enactor nobunaga is a serious lad, though not yet as stern as he would grow to be. this nobunaga is almost easy-going, a lad full of wit and charm who seeks compromise. while already a formidable threat on the battlefield, he would be just as happy to discuss philosophy and learn about the different ways of life in ransei.

CONQUEROR a formidable opponent looking to unite the kingdoms of ransei. with the mighty zekrom at his side, few dare oppose him in battle and fewer make it out unscathed. no longer interested in anything but complete surrender, nobunaga shows no mercy to those who would stand in his way. arceus itself is merely a means to an end for the warlord of dragnor.

ATONER a man who grew wary, but no less humble, after another won ransei. nobunaga works for the continued livelihood of dragnor and its citizens as ranmaru’s junior warlord. he rarely travels beyond the four northern kingdoms, preferring to remain at home. he still remains involved inasmuch as he can with ransei’s politics despite this: the well-being of its people still one of his greatest concerns.

VICTOR a shogun who brought ransei to its knees. upon the former empress passing along the title to nobunaga, he turned his efforts to fixing the damage done by the unification wars. ransei is not at perfect peace. however, nobunaga bolsters the people of ransei and is slowly cultivating a staunch loyalty amongst the populace.

SHIFTER a dragon able to take the guise of a human, or vice versa, or only partially a dragon depending on the intricacies of the setting. a catch-all verse for the fantasy versions of nobunaga who opens his castle gates to adventurers so they may rest and restock.

REDEEMER a general in the fire lord’s army. nobunaga was awed and feared as the fire nation’s greatest warrior until his defeat at ba sing se. he still retains favor with the fire lord and offers advice and strategy for efforts in the war. rumors have begun to spread that his wit and genius have fled after recent losses. after all, the great nobunaga would never purposefully lose a fight…right? (avatar: the last air bender)

ASCENDER a once grand idealist whose dreams came to an abrupt and tragic end. nobunaga gave up his emotions and memories in exchange for arceus leaving ransei to forge its own way to peace. he resides at the top of infinite tower, where his slowed aging and inability to develop illnesses has made him all but immortal. (the tale of princess kaguya)

LAWYER a defense attorney with a penchant for winning cases in unique manners. heads a small law firm and gets along with most the prosecution. (ace attorney)

#「ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏsᴛ ɢᴇᴛ ғᴏᴜɴᴅ」ʜᴄ

[dinogaby]

Not to be horny or anything but garmadon gives off big dick energy. Like even whens hes human.

Lmaooo anon you are killing me 🤣🤣 But yesss, i totally agree! Garmadon gives off the biggest dick energy i have ever seen!

#anon asks #dinogaby answers #lord garmadon #lmao #he’s a bad boy and we love him for that #don’t mess with him #surrender to his infinite charm

[wisteria-blooms]

long hair & tattoos (bill weasley & reader) (8/15)

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

CHAPTER 8: Molly Weasley simply can’t wait to hear the news about you. What did you have to tell her? Well, besides the fact you saw her eldest son with another woman. (4.7k words; oops)

(Tag list moved to the bottom!)

CHAPTER 8: JUST A PHASE

June signified the start of a new chapter in you and Bill’s lives, though you’d disagree and say that through the optimistic embellish, one of you had an infinitely more luxurious beginning.

When you woke after your first night spent at Fred and George’s flat, your stomach was deeply upset with you. You walked out to the kitchen like you did every morning but realized there was no breakfast ready for you on the kitchen island. And of course, you couldn’t call for the help of a house elf to prepare one. So, you stared blankly at the ice box in front of you. It was spotless and not in the way you’d like it. All there was were a few cans of beer, Molly’s leftovers from last weekend wrapped in tin foil, and two eggs. Not the tastiest combination, you were sure of that much.

“Is this all you have?”

Fred scuttled over from the couch and joined you in your assessment of his fridge. He had previously been reclining in his pyjamas, enjoying the morning before he had to get downstairs for work. He poked in head into the enchanted box which was kept at the right temperature with a cooling charm.

“Well, we don’t have to cook much.”

“Why’s that?”

“The innkeeper at the Leaky Cauldron insists on feeding us three square meals a day,” he explained.

“Really? That’s nice of him.”

Fred got up and stepped back. “We always give his grandchildren free stuff when they come. It’s nothing, really.”

“Regardless,” you said as you closed the door. “He won’t be feeding me. I’ll have to figure something out.”

Fred gasped and stumbled a little. “A Malfoy doing housework?” He clutched his heart with his hand. “Blimey, the world is really ending.”

You glowered at him, readying a response, but remembered how much gratitude you owed him. “I’ll have to go the bank anyway,” you said instead. “By the way, how much do I owe you for the month?”

“Nothing,” Fred responded. “Your presence is payment enough.”

“At least let me do something,” you said with a huff. “Maintain the house, take you out for dinner, or—?”

“Just make the place more fun to be around,” he suggested with a shrug. “Make it feel like home.”

You looked around at the unfurnished space and responded, “I’ll do my best.”

“Brilliant,” he said as he approached you. Then he firmly placed his hands on your shoulders. He looked downwards and naturally, so did you. “Now, time to get dressed and head out, unless you plan to go out in that?”

“What’s wrong with this?” you asked, pulling at the hem of your baggy shorts that you paired with a white tank.

“Nothing,” he responded with a grin. “It’s just interesting to see you unkempt.”

“Excuse me?” you huffed. His fingers trailed down until they were dotting your waist.  You narrowed your eyes at him. “Fred? What are you doing?”

Fred’s eyes glistened. You knew this expression all too well; he was never up to any good when he got this look. But before you could react, his fingers darted out and launched a barrage of tickles. You screamed and swatted his hands away, but he didn’t relent. So, you aimed for his sides too, knowing he was just as ticklish as you.

As you chased each other through the small flat, you had an inkling of hope that living here wouldn’t be a bad idea after all.

After both you and Fred had surrendered, you went back to your room so you could get dressed for the day’s errands. You slipped on a long silk skirt, a white short-sleeved blouse, and pinned your hair back. George had tacked a wobbly mirror on your door at your insistence. It was nothing like the many angled mirrors in your closet, but it would do.

You ran down the steps, out of the shop and merged into the wakening streets of Diagon Alley. Your first destination was the coffee shop to properly waken and get something into that persistent stomach of yours. You found a spot by the window and with the help of a strong Americano, you concocted a grocery list on a spare napkin; eggs; bread; milk; cheese; cured meat. You figured you’d get some pantry staples and figure out what to do with them after. But there was no point in using magic when you had no insight or plan of what to do with the ingredients. Maybe you would have to go home and pilfer some recipes from Dobby. Or you could just steal the house elf. Your father could spare you at least one, right?

Your next destination was the bank. Gringotts was a relief from the climbing heat.  As you queued in line, you wondered if Bill would be around today. Did he work on Saturdays? Your sharp eyes looped around the marble pillars and skimmed each row of goblins and the line of patrons in search of the redhead.

Surely enough, he was off to the side, turned away and facing a goblin. Though you couldn’t see his face, his body language was enough for you to know that he was engrossed in a long and serious talk. Mindlessly, your hands reached out to straighten your windblown hair. As your fingers grazed your face, you contemplated why you were fussing over your appearance in the first place. Surely, you didn’t care to do it this morning after getting up and chatting with Fred right after.

Idly, you waited for Bill to finish up. You hoped he’d be done before it was your turn to be served. You were terribly curious to know how he was liking his new accommodations. Was he enjoying all the facilities the penthouse offered? Had he sunk into the Jacuzzi after a long day? Had he tried the pool table in the recreational room?

When the conversation concluded, he turned around, eyes skittering in search of something. As you’d hoped, he tilted his head up in acknowledgement. You raised your hand to wave to him, but quickly realized his eyes weren’t on you. Instead, they were looking faraway. Embarrassed, you cemented your hand to your side. Luckily, he hadn’t seen you and was focussed on whoever was behind you. Cautiously, your eyes followed him as he strode past you. You were expecting another goblin colleague, but it was a woman.

You blinked. The woman looked lovely and elegant the way she was standing, her back pin-straight and her arms crossed in front of her. She was dressed in a blue suit that brought out her eyes. Tresses of long blonde hair flowed past her delicate shoulders. With heels, she could almost meet Bill’s eyes. Even when you wore them, you had to strain to look up at him. The memory of the first time that happened was sweet, and you couldn’t help but smile.

The smile, however, quickly fell off your face as she leaned in to kiss Bill’s cheek. Not once, but she planted another kiss on the other side of his cheek as well. He didn’t seem to mind it as evidenced by his touch on her back. Then, midst conversation, he redirected her to the offices of the bank – the very far, very private offices.

You sucked in an audible breath. You weren’t aware of how loud you were until an older witch shot you a condescending look. Godric, when had Gringotts been policed into a library? You ignored her and focussed on the pounding of your heart in your ears and the rush of blood to your head. The more rational side of you insisted it was a typical greeting, like the one that the French fancied. Your aunts did it to you and Draco though the memory was blurred by the both of you trying to escape the barrage of kisses and the chokehold of their poignant perfume. Therefore, you supposed it should be perfectly fine that Bill’s female friend was kissing his cheek.

But…

She was a friend, right?

Before you knew it, your fourth week at the flat reared its ugly head. The kitchen had marginal improvement from its sad, impoverished state; the only thing saving it were your grocery trips and attempts to spruce it up with houseplants and photos. Living with two young men also had its ups and downs, but you were set out to make the best of it.

On the bright side, you experienced development in other areas of your life. You mulled over a paradox: you wanted to be a self-made woman, but you couldn’t be one if you were waited on hand and foot. This prompted you to better yourself. You combed through memories, recalling your mother’s circle of friends talking about some renowned author over tea. You went out to Flourish and Blotts and rewarded yourself to a best-seller in Wizarding Britain: Madame Millicent’s Tips for the Domesticated Witch. You didn’t think this was the one in the series that Narcissa’s friends were praising (likely, it was the one beside it about how to better please your husband), but it would be perfect for you.

Despite its sexist title, you found it useful for all the domestic charms you never got to use; a muffling charm for Fred’s snores and George’s early showers; a softening charm for the bed; a darkening charm for the window; and so forth. You supposed even without magic, you were growing accustomed to the narrow bed you slept in. It was still hard to get used to your new schedule; tackling household chores and maintaining yourself ate up most of your free time. There were so many things you wanted to have Dobby apparate over to take care of, but you knew you had to trudge on. And each time you accomplished something on your own, you felt proud of yourself.

Over the weeks, your mother had tried to invite you back for dinner, but you hadn’t had time to respond to her requests. Bill had also written just once, the contents simple: “I’m settling in well.” Still, you tucked the letter in a drawer and held onto it.

“You made this?” George sounded incredulous as he plucked a wedge of brie off your board.

“The disbelief in your tone wounds me, George.” You huffed as you put the finishing touches on the charcuterie board you’d been working on for the last hour.

“Where’d you learn it?” he asked.

“A book about entertaining at parties.” Your response was abrupt. You’d slowly learned that avid fans of Madame Millicent were usually housewives or at the very least, women more than ten years your age. Both groups boasted very traditional values but her books were too helpful for you to care. Before George could ask who the author was, you continued, “I think it’s only proper to bring something for your family, don’t you?”

George had offhandedly invited you to the Burrow last week. The prospect of spending a summer evening at his family’s and eating a proper homemade meal weren’t the only things enticing you. No, you were fairly certain that Bill would be there, too. So, you’d entrusted your favourite summer dress to Madame Malkin yesterday, knowing she would masterfully soothe any wrinkle in the light crepe material. Your morning today was spent on your hair and make-up. You couldn’t understand why you were putting in all this effort for what would be a laid-back occasion, but you vehemently denied the little voice that suggested it was because Bill could be there.

“Fred’s waiting downstairs,” George urged.

“Then let’s get this packed up and ready to go,” you said. “Be a darling and grab the wine bottle, would you, Georgie?”

You walked downstairs with George. As you circled the spiralling stairs down, you saw Fred standing by the fireplace with his hands in his pockets. When he saw you, he let out a low whistle.

“Dressing to impress?” Fred asked, eyeing your outfit.

“Hardly,” you responded, though you were embarrassed that your efforts were noticed. To save face, you winked at him. “Some of us have standards.”

The three of you travelled by floo. Green flames doused your body and felt like you were spinning downwards. When you opened your eyes, you were standing in the living room of the Burrow. There wasn’t a soul stirring in the house. You followed Fred and George to the kitchen. Every window in the cozy corner was cracked open, letting in a gentle, late afternoon breeze. The little checkered curtain that covered the main window by the sink was fluttering peacefully, unaware of your appearance.

“Where’s everyone?” Fred asked, staring at the deserted kitchen.

“Out there under the shade,” George said, having picked up on the half-obscured faces chatting in the backyard. At that moment, Molly rushed in through the backdoor. A flour-dusted apron cloaked her body, a tell-tale sign that she’d been baking.

“Hello, boys,” she greeted. Then her eyes landed on you and her mouth rounded in surprise. You supposed George hadn’t told her you’d be coming. She walked over and extended her arms, pulling you into a hug. “What a pleasant surprise! So, so lovely to see you, (Y/N)!”

“It’s nice to be here,” you responded with a smile. “I hope it’s not an intrusion.” You looked at George. “You probably weren’t expecting me.”

“Not at all!” Molly refuted. She seemed thrilled and even more welcoming than usual. “As we say here, the more the merrier.” Then she looked at what you were holding in your hands. “What are you doing letting (Y/N) hold onto that?” she scolded Fred who flinched. George snickered. “Take that outside for the others.”

Fred quickly grabbed your platter from you and ran outside. George, fisting your bottle of Merlot, followed.

“Come on now, let’s join the others,” Molly suggested, linking her arm to yours in a motherly manner. She leaned in as if she was sharing a secret with you. “I simply can’t wait to hear the news.”

You nodded slowly despite not having a clue what she was talking about. Did Molly know you had moved in with Fred and George? Did she know you were the reason her eldest son had been catapulted to a penthouse in the clouds? You weren’t sure what thrilling news you could offer her.

As she led you out of the kitchen, a rush of warmth swept over your face. In the sun-drenched backyard, there was a long table set up on the grass. Your friends were there; Harry with Ginny; Ron with Hermione; Arthur in the back, beads of sweat running down his face as he handled a muggle contraption. Molly ran out to the back to bring her husband a glass of beer for his efforts.

Fred and George sat on the other side of the table next to Ginny. You sat down next to Ron, facing the back of the Burrow. You saw the top tuft of Percy’s hair through the second-floor window. He was still slaving away at some report. As you looked around, you felt relieved. Despite most people here despising your brother, they didn’t feel the same towards you. You worked hard to make the distinction from a young age and it’d clearly paid off.

“Good afternoon,” you greeted.

“Who are you here with?” Ron asked with an impish grin.

You cocked an eyebrow. “Fred and George.” Was it not obvious enough?

“He’s not asking about it in that way,” Fred teased.

“Then what?” You were confused.

“You didn’t, Georgie,” Fred said, eyes lighting up. “Did you tell her?”

George shook his head to Fred’s delight. “We all came in pairs,” George explained, using his index and middle finger to group couples. “Mostly romantically, but Fred and I are lone souls who have each other, which leaves you.”

“So, who’s your other half?” Ron prodded.

“Must I have a date to be here?” you asked.

“Yeah,” Ron stated matter-of-factly. “Mum assumes if you’re here, you must be dating someone in the family. That’s how all the relationships here have started, anyway.”

“What?” you exclaimed. You glared at George who was holding back a laugh. “But I’m not.”

“Well, quick, latch onto someone,” Ginny suggested. “I have more brothers than these three.”

George began the process of elimination, counting down with his fingers. “Percy fancies books over you, Charlie has a budding love in Romania, so the only bachelor is…”

You were quick to not say the name this time.

“Bill?” Fred finished, his eyes widening and his voice lightly dusted with your intonation, the same one you’d used the first time the three of you came up with this fake-relationship idea.

There was a loud round of laughter. Not that anyone else besides Fred or George knew about your predicament but you went as red as one of Molly’s garden tomatoes on the vine. And this wasn’t like you. You should’ve been laughing with them, asserting that the whole concept was ridiculous. Instead, you were rendered speechless.

“You two are ridiculous,” Hermione said to Fred through the chorus of laughter, coming to your side. You thanked your stars for her. “(Y/N) doesn’t need to come with anyone.” Then she turned to George to lecture him as well. “And you should’ve said something to Molly. Now she’s elated for nothing, and it’ll make everyone feel…”

Hermione’s voice was slowly drowned out by the commotion. You were so focussed on George’s expression of mock offense that you hadn’t realized more guests had strolled in.

“What’s this ruckus about?” someone hovering over you asked. He placed the back of his tanned and freckled hand on your face. You could tell it wasn’t Bill by the pitch of his voice and how his hand felt on your skin. “(Y/N), are you alright? Looking a little warm there.”

You glanced over your shoulder to respond, “Yes, I’m perfectly fine, thank you—”

“Charlie?” Ron exclaimed from beside you. “What are you doing here?”

“I took a week off, so I came back home, of course,” Charlie explained with a grin. “Just in time to see a show with Bill here.”

“It’s a stadium rock concert in muggle London,” Bill continued. The calmness of his voice made your skin prickle. “We’ve been wanting to go since we were teenagers, but school was always in the way.”

Bill stood to Charlie’s right. You remarked that he had styled his hair differently today; he swept the front back. It was also shorter and more coiffed. He must’ve gotten a trim in the weeks you hadn’t seen him. He wore a white t-shirt over jeans, and kept on his piercings and earring. He looked like he’d fit right in at the rock concert.

“But that’s a local band, Charlie. You’ve got on the wrong uniform,” George said, pointing to Charlie’s shirt. “Muggles won’t know who that is.”

“We’ll pretend it’s our band,” Charlie boasted. “I’m the lead singer and Bill’s the back-up.”

“Try again,” Bill said quickly which earned a laugh from Charlie.

“I’ve heard you sing in the shower, Charlie,” Fred taunted, his face pulling into a grimace. “If that’s your best effort, then you should stick to dragons.”

Charlie simply shook his head, rolled up his sleeves, and curled his fingers into fists. He raised them, beckoning Fred over. Fred got up and did the same, ready to brawl.

You laughed politely with the others, but deep down, your throat constricted and your heart felt heavy. In the past couple of months you’d known Bill, he never once told you about going to a concert with Charlie. He hadn’t even tried to instigate any conversation in the past weeks besides the letter that probably took two seconds to write. To make it worse, he’d come in today and barely acknowledged you. His eyes were on everyone but you. Even Charlie, who you hadn’t seen in forever, had said hello.

Why did Bill neglecting you bother you this much? It wasn’t like he was obligated to say anything, and you weren’t privy to his life either.

Watching Bill and Charlie saunter over to help their father, you ruminated. Maybe you did miss the elusive glimpses of Bill as a partner. The one who purposefully kept open entire weekends to have dinners with you. The one you didn’t have to run into by hope and chance alone. You longed for his arms around you on the couch in the drawing room as you latched onto each other, tangled in a wicked game. You yearned for those little whispers in your ear, speaking a language only the two of you knew. You missed his blue eyes fixated on you, a look that silently proclaimed to everyone in the room that you were his sole object of adoration. His girlfriend. You should’ve cherished that shade of baby blue because who knew when you’d see them again?

Thinking about this was making you dizzy, and the overhead sun wasn’t helping.

“I think it is quite warm, actually,” you said. “Just going to get a glass of water.” You excused yourself quickly and headed back into the kitchen.

When you were inside, you poured yourself a cold glass of water. You splayed your hands on the counter, trying to come to terms with what you were feeling. You couldn’t possibly like Bill, could you? You couldn’t even pinpoint the moment your feelings of gratitude for him turned into that of affection. It made no sense and so much sense at the same time. If it had been Fred or George or anyone else at the bank that day, you would’ve forgotten it by now.

Suddenly, the screen door slid open with a slight screech. You jolted upwards. Bill came in holding an empty beer glass.

“Going already?” you asked, embarrassed that Bill had caught you in contemplation. You hoped he couldn’t read all the frantic thoughts racing in your mind.

“Figured we’d stop by before we left,” he responded. “But we’re going to a pub before the show.”

“Oh, that sounds fun.”

Bill nodded. “It will be.”

Your conversation was drier than the month-old bread in Fred and George’s pantry.

“How’s the place?” you asked in a hushed tone.

“Really lovely, though I feel crummy about it still,” Bill stated with a sigh. He placed the empty glass by the sink. “It’s just too large for me. How’s living with my brothers?”

You forced a smile. “Having a great time, as you predicted.”

“Come on, Bill,” Charlie urged as he entered the kitchen. He put a hand on Bill’s shoulder and smirked. “If you keep chatting, we’ll miss the show.”

“Have a nice night, (Y/N).” Bill bid his farewells and quickly disappeared with Charlie in the fireplace. They’d left as quickly as they’d came.

You gaze lingered on the brick fixture longer than intended. Your imagination ran wild concocting stories of how their night would play out. You envisioned Bill and Charlie at a trendy pub in muggle London, sat on barstools downing drinks. Maybe they’d be meeting up with the woman from the bank there or at the show. Now your mind was entering treacherous territory thinking about Bill’s arms snaked around her waist as they enjoyed the night together. And it would be late when the show ended, so Bill, being the perfect gentleman, would refuse to let her go home alone…

Your night, on the other hand, would be spent differently. In your time spent musing, Percy had descended half the steps and arrived in your line of vision.

“Hello,” you greeted. You put your past conversation with him behind you and attempted to be cordial. “All done with work?”

Percy wore an irritated expression. His pale blue eyes scanned the kitchen. You figured he might’ve been displeased in general, but then his eyes landed on your frame and showed no signs of leaving.

“I know what’s going on.” His gaze was unwavering.

“What do you mean?”

“With you and Bill.”

“That’s ominous, Percy. Could you explain?” You couldn’t help but add a bit of malice to your words because, frankly, you were now the irritated one. What was with his attitude towards you?

“I don’t believe he would choose a place like that on his own accord.”

“What place?”

“Don’t be daft,” Percy said in disbelief, eyebrows furrowing. “The penthouse.”

“Well, why shouldn’t he have something nice?” You had to choose your words carefully because you weren’t sure if Bill had told Percy anything.

“Because that’s not him. I think I know my own brother better than you.” Percy crossed his arms and scowled, baring some teeth. “I’ve been lenient on you instigating Fred and George’s bad behaviour, but don’t you think you’ve crossed a line this time?”

“You’ve got it backwards,” you retorted. “I haven’t instigated anything.”

Percy scoffed and closed his eyes for a moment. “You’re no different from your family,” he said with an accusatory tone. “People aren’t disposable things you throw away when you’re tired of them.”

“Well, it’s rude of you to assume—”

Then he brushed past you without another word. Unlike your last encounter, you didn't feel confused; you felt indignant. Your breath hitched as you watched everyone outside greet Percy with fervor, relieved that he was finally taking a break from his duties to join the family for dinner. But they didn’t hear the unkind words he’d just spoken to you. You wanted to scream from inside the house, tell Percy he was wrong, that you weren’t like your family.

But you were a guest and couldn’t be so boorish to cause a scene, especially not when Molly was laughing outside, swaying as she enveloped Fred in a hug. So, you swallowed your pride, retrieved your glass of water, and quietly rejoined the others. Percy was sat on the other side by his father. Every once in a while, you caught him looking disdainfully at you, but you willed yourself to ignore him. In your state, you had nothing to add to the gaieties of the night. You simply nodded and smiled when Arthur boasted that he’d gotten the barbeque—apparently, a favourite summer muggle activity—working.

After dessert, you thanked Molly and Arthur for having you. You excused yourself prematurely, stating Ministry work with a dangerously tight deadline. Truthfully, there was no work, but you knew Fred and George would linger around for the rest of the night, giving you the flat to yourself for another hour or two.

It was dark when you landed back on the first floor of the shop. All the windows and doors were shuttered so not even a sliver of moonlight could creep in. You turned on the lights and ran up the stairs as fast as your legs could take you. You just wanted to sink into your bed and drown forever. Drown, never wake, and never answer again to anyone.

In your entire life, you swore you couldn’t let a single thing hurt you. You let the wounds on your heart form and scab over before picking at them and repeating the cycle. You did this until your mother’s unwarranted advice, your father’s favouritism, your brother’s insults, and people’s upturned noses didn’t bother you anymore. Malfoys simply didn’t hurt, you recalled your father saying over and over. Malfoys also didn’t lose, he’d ingrained, which was likely how you ended up in this situation.

In your heart, you knew it wasn’t Percy’s cruel words that caused you to be so upset. It was Bill. Not what he did, but what he didn’t do.

It was like you’d never spoken before today. He treated you like a closed chapter in the story of his life. He was the Bill you knew prior to your meeting at the café, only you would’ve preferred that because a stranger couldn’t hurt you like this. You learned intimate things about him and withdrawing from such familiarity was an awful feeling indeed.

Your hand unknowingly struck the wall behind you as you let your frustration ebb out.

Recollecting your composure, you wiped your face and shuffled over to your workspace. You looked at the stack of your mother’s dinner invitations on the side of your desk, addressed to you and Bill, that you had left unread. Scornfully, you grabbed one and ripped the parchment into two, repeating the motion until there were no invitations left.

>> NEXT CHAPTER

&lt;<CHAPTER DIRECTORY

TAGLIST: @inpraizeof @milkiane @lovesanimals0000 @alisslahey @milfodyssey @itscheybaby @lookingthroughmirrors @stiles-argent24@aki-ham @my-current-fandom-is @salvatoremuse @nimue-lady-of-the-lake @agathne @benbarnesismybaby@bangbaang @venus-d-vinyl @lexxxtacyyy @pink-hufflepuff @unicornicopia1@itsrhyann@awesomeowlbook @bamboozledflamplant @howpeculier (leave a comment if you'd like to be added!)

#bill weasley x you #bill weasley x reader #bill weasley x y/n #bill weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader

[datingdonovan]

a/n: a tad suggestive so dni unless ur 16+ :)

11:48pm

You’ve been sitting at the tiny kitchen table digging your knuckle into your temple for upwards of five minutes, and Kuroo’s almost positive it’s because of the same three or four lines of code. He can’t exactly see very well from his spot on the couch, but judging by the pained expression on your face and the fact that it’s been a while since you’ve even lifted your hand to scroll, he’s pretty sure he’s right.

Yes, he’s in love with the way your eyebrows pinch together and he thinks your lips look infinitely cute pressed into an annoyed line, but he can only take so much of watching your frustrated features, especially when he’s not the reason you’re flustered. With one last look at your face, Kuroo decides that it’s time.

“Okay. That’s it.” Your boyfriend bounds off the couch with a loud clap, nearly startling you out of your uncomfortable chair.

“What’s what?” You groan as he steps over to you.

“That’s it. No more work tonight.”

“Kuroo—”

“Don’t Kuroo me. You seriously need to relax.” You roll your eyes up at him when he pokes your cheek, but he reassures you in his own stupid way, lifting his hands innocently. “Hey, trust me. I’m an expert.”

You glance from his goofy smile to the complicated application in front of you. Judging by the looks of it, you’re going to be sitting here for several more hours. Coding’s not really your thing. In fact, if you had to pick one of the two of you to succeed in a STEM class, your money’s on Kuroo. You’ve got half a mind to tell him to stop messing around and help you out. You suppose you’re not feeling that mean, though, because all that comes from your mouth is a weak objection. “Dude, not now. I’m serious.”

“And I’m serious, too.” The tall man brings his hands to your shoulders and you relax into his touch, only shrugging him off when he starts gently kneading your tense frame.

“Kuroo, let me work.”

“Come on, baby. You can’t sit here like this forever.” He kneels down behind your chair, hooking his chin over your shoulder and examining your screen. “Have you even made any progress in, like, the past ten minutes?” He pecks your cheek, smirking devilishly when you turn to him.

“Actually, for five of those ten minutes, I’ve had to endure the obnoxious whining of a very handsome dork.”

“Oh, I’m handsome?” Kuroo perks up.

“Selective hearing.” You quip as you turn back to your screen.

But you can’t help closing your eyes when there’s a kiss on your neck, then one nudging your jaw, and then right under your ear. “Tell you what.” He kisses your skin again, firm and determined, before he whispers. “How about I take us on a nice relaxing drive somewhere, and we can make out for like, twenty minutes, and then come home?”

The whole idea makes you laugh out loud, leaning away from his touch and giggling even more when he chases you, continuing to nose your ear. “As lovely as that sounds, we’re not sixteen.”

Your boyfriend smirks against your skin. “Oh, boo hoo. Never stopped you before.”

“We can make out here.” You scoot your chair back so you can fully face him, gesturing around the bland room with a sarcastic quirk of your eyebrow. “In our tiny apartment that we don’t quite own.”

“You’re no fun. Where’s your sense of adventure?” He teases, moving closer so that your noses touch. “Unless you just can’t wait to kiss me.” He adds, voice jokingly cocky. “Then, I guess I get it.” Your boyfriend winks at you, so much less charming than he pretends to be. “If I were anybody else, I’d wanna kiss me the moment I saw me too—”

“Shut up!” You laugh, and then you’re grabbing his face and dragging him closer, kissing him hard and deep like you know he wants. When you pull away, he’s glassy eyed, hair more ruffled than usual, already leaning back in to chase your touch, but you push him off. “There. Are you happy now?”

“Hmmm.” He pretends to consider. “Not quite.”

Before you can react, he’s dragging you in by the collar again, and you surrender to the fact that you’re not getting any more work done tonight. You close your eyes on your way toward him, ready to crash into his face, smiles clacking against each other, but you yelp when his teeth make contact with your collarbone.

“Tetsurō!” Your eyes flash open as he hoists you up from your chair and over his shoulder, his cackles ringing through your apartment when you try to squirm away. “Did you just bite me?”

When he lays you down on the couch, climbing on top of you and burying his grinning face in your neck, the only thing he can manage is a quick, “No comment.”

#haikyuu kuroo #kuroo drabble #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo x reader #the stuff of cece #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu x gn!reader #kuroo x y/n #kuroo x gender neutral reader #haikyuu!! #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo testuro #kuroo tetsuro imagine #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo imagine #kuroo haikyuu #this has been sitting in my brain for ages. like I mean probably months. probably before I even started writing for hq. #and then in my drafts for days #anyway enjoy this man :) <3 heart eye emoji #I think this one is fun I actually quite like how it came out I think having it sit in my drafts for too long actually helped me tweak it #in a way that helped idk? ya feel?

[paper-n-ashes]

The Late Shift - Part 2

Characters: Paul Sevier x Female Reader

Words: 2k

Warnings/Tags: Little inklings of sexual themes. Otherwise we’re still in PG territory. Oh and mutual pining from two idiots. My favourite kind.

Authors Note: One shot? I don’t know her. Honestly, I don’t have any excuse. I just felt the urge to continue on with this dumb fluffy story because it makes me feel a little warm and fuzzy inside and I needed that. Will we drive this car straight into smut town afterwards? Ah you’ll just have to see. 

Catch up with Part 1 here

*

Paul always considered himself a smart guy. Perceptive, knowledgeable, with years of grueling education behind him to be where he is today.

His schooling, work, almost every minute of his waking moments was spent in the realm of artificial illustrations of correspondence. He could happily spend hours sifting through the words and numbers that made up all types of message transmission, might even admit he had a talent for decoding their significance and origin. Exchanges born from machinery were easy to analyse – they had set rules and gave little room for differing interpretation. He was comfortable in that world. Knew how things worked, what paths data and carefully devised information would take.

Human communication was infinitely harder to navigate. It was a skill he knew he was lacking in, compared to others at least. His words never came out the way he wanted, he struggled to say exactly what was wished to convey and agonised over the fact expression and tone could morph any remark into something with a whole different meaning.

Every day, he encountered people who used this as a tool - a weapon to obscure the truth and conceal hidden agendas. It was hard not to, working for the US government. In time, he’d become cynical. Wary of what people spoke aloud, assuming it was all said without much sincerity or reliability unless proven otherwise.

And then after another arduous day, there you were. Out of nowhere. Kind. Honest. Genuine. Within such an excruciatingly short interaction, you’d exuded all these traits so effortlessly. A breath of fresh air after being smothered by the smog the rest of his life contained.

Paul would easily admit his attraction to you was surprisingly swift. The rapturing smile you wore when you’d looked up from your notepad had him snared from the moment it appeared, an aura of natural vibrance and radiant energy shimmering out from your animated expression. What he’d expected to be a dry, tedious endeavour turned into a spark-filled scene, where an excited stranger made him feel both horrendously nervous and unusually at-ease. It had been a long time since someone made him feel like that.

It had also been a long time since he’d asked someone out on a date, for more than a few reasons. The more prolific Paul became in his job, the more unpredictable and unstable his life outside of it was. It took him across the country at a moments’ notice and consumed most hours of his day, meaning forging even short relationships was fairly difficult.

Plus… he just wasn’t good at it. Putting himself out there. He was shy, paralyzingly so. It’s not exactly something he could refute. His confidence was always born from experience and understanding, in knowing the reasons behind why things worked the way they did, along with being able to calculate what would happen next. No textbook could ever cover the entire spectrum of human personality, and there was no way to truly predict what a person might do or say. 

So, without the security of knowledge behind him, uneasiness and apprehension took over in most of his social interactions, particularly with those he felt a magnetism to. It’s exactly how he thought he seemed during his time with you. Awkward and floundering. Not exactly the most charming attributes for a man to have. And yet, the longer he was in your presence, the more he sensed those foibles fade into the back of his mind.

Talking to you was easy. Easier than it had been with anyone during a first meeting. What hadn’t been easy was enduring the seconds your touch grazed over him in your delicate workings while taking each different measurement - his heart beating a little faster, his muscles becoming a little more tense. When you’d eventually let your stare reach his, he’d seen how your eyes moved to trace the lines of his mouth, and it set his insides on fire. He’d been frozen by the unique type of burn, his body locked in place while a rare impulse begged him to sink his lips onto yours. In the past, he struggled to kiss a woman even after several dates, unable to push past the fear and doubt to turn his desire into action. However, in that moment, he’d been all too eager. His hand had moved on its own accord, fingers slinking up your waist, about to pull you closer when interruption instantly shattered his resolve.

The urge was still there in the dialogue that followed, although the promise of seeing you tomorrow made it easier to walk away, safe in the knowledge he had another opportunity to ask you out when his confidence was properly steeled. For once, he could be smart about this. Use his natural intellect to plan and act accordingly, giving him the best odds of securing more time with you.

Oh, but that all went to shit when your text message popped up on his phone screen. Seeing those words, even if they were meant for someone else, made his excitement reach an unfathomable peak, and in turn made him recklessly send a response without taking a second to think about the consequences.

And now, Paul had never felt so stupid in his entire life.

Sitting in the driver’s seat, the phone in his palm lit up with your conversation on display, he felt his stomach spasm with anxiety. Were you going to reply? What would you say? What if his bluntness freaked you out? What if you weren’t even talking about him? Was this all something his mind conjured up?

As the minutes passed without any sign of a response, the initially minor sense of panic began to compound, weighing heavy on his chest, the chaos of his mind soon melting into one certainty - he’d totally fucked this up.

About to slump his forehead into the steering wheel in a display of despondency, Paul suddenly felt a flash of courage at remembering the view of your face peering up at him. He knew the image of it would haunt him if he didn’t do something. He had to fix this. Explain himself. But it needed to be in person. He wouldn’t let technology mess this up for him again.

With a purposeful breath, Paul exited his car and began to retrace his steps past the other shopfronts, silently rehearsing what he wanted to say to you. He hoped to surrender himself to a collectively embarrassing situation, laugh off the turn of events, having it all culminate in an offer of dinner once your shift had finished. He already had a place in mind, only a street away, a little dumpling house that was always open late. Perfect for a cosy, quiet date after a chance meeting.

When his eyes latched onto your figure through the glass window, he stopped his hand from reaching for the door handle. You were crouching down in front of a small boy, his mother behind him cradling a newborn baby, your hand gesturing towards an array of child size suits. Paul couldn’t help but watch as your warming smile beamed, guiding the boys hands to touch and feel over the material, your words evidently making him feel more at ease as his expression slowly relaxed out of its worried frown.

Creeping backwards to make sure you didn’t catch him in your periphery, Paul felt a wave of relief wash over his skin, having evidence that your lack of reply wasn’t due to any of the worst case scenarios he’d been fretting over. You were just busy, concentrated on your work, giving your time and expertise to others in the same way you’d given to him.

The realisation was enough for him slink away, still impatient for your next encounter but assured in it being set within the next day cycle. He just had to wait.

Although, waiting wasn’t exactly a talent of his either.

 *

You were dying inside.

A friendly grin was plastered on your face as you conversed sweetly with the woman in front of you, making idle chit-chat while her son changed out of the suit you’d picked together, but the smile had never felt so insincere. Usually you loved when children came in to pick out ensembles for weddings and similarly formal events, but at the moment your mind was stuck on a small battery-powered rectangle sitting at your desk with a half-written message remaining under your lock-screen.

In the time before Paul’s response came through, you’d never felt more humiliated in your whole existence. Evaporating into thin air would have been a welcomed miracle. But when the returning text slid into focus, your whole mindset shifted.

He felt the same. He wanted you too.

You’d been in the middle of typing out a hasty invitation to come back and make true on his intentions when this overwhelmed mother with a fussy baby caught your attention. Her eldest son had done his best to iron out his only formal suit for the role of ring bearer in an aunt’s wedding this coming weekend, unfortunately resulting an a house full of smoke and a clump of burnt wool.

Personal matters withered into the background at the comprehension of her drained, exhausted demeanour, all your focus pointed back towards the job you’d been distracted from. Well, mostly.

You couldn’t avoid the thoughts and questions glinting in the back of your mind. Of what might have happened if this woman never appeared. What might be happening in an alternate timeline where you’d been able to send that waiting reply. Without intention, your wonderings turned into moving pictures – leading Paul into the back workshop, being roughly picked up onto the cutting table, his lips and yours finally connected in a heated clash, shedding all of his clothing until that heinous mustard shirt was crumpled on the floor-

The high pitched beep of the receipt machine snapped you back into reality, noting the relieved smile the mother wore while her son excitedly grabbed at the bags containing his dashing new suit.

“Thank you!” he hollered without needing to be prompted, waving his hand vigorously before skittering away to the door.

“You’re an absolute lifesaver,” the woman echoed, taking the receipt from your outstretched hand. “I’m really sorry for keeping you so late.”

“Oh don’t worry about it.” The time on the monitor screen just ticked over to 8:17pm, long after you would usually shut up shop and head home to your empty apartment. “I've got nowhere special to be.”

You each said your goodbyes, waiting until the precise moment her silhouette was out of sight before jumping to your phone. The same half written message was there, but now it felt impossible to finish. All traces of adrenaline had long since worn off, and the bravery that made you type out the risqué proposition was reduced to almost nothing. Your timid nature rushed back in full force, a thumb pressing hard on the little x button to erase all evidence of your out of character impulses.

Who were you kidding. You weren’t this person. Unashamed and brazen enough to dive into a fiery entanglement with a handsome stranger in the same evening you’d met. You wished you could be. There was never a time the concept was so enticing. But… it was a fantasy not meant for you to live out. They were destined for the outgoing, the cool and composed, the bold and sure-footed. You rarely felt like any of those things. And Paul, like most men, probably reserved their interest and attraction for those types of women. It was so silly of you to think any different. Getting your hopes up was foolish, and would only end in-

The tingle of the shopkeepers bell sounded, internally groaning as you slid your phone back onto the desk. “We’re closed,” you hawked, a coldness in your tone you couldn’t hide. Eyes snapping up to the intruder, a bolt of lightening shot through, barely able to stop the delight mixing into your blood.

“I just, uh, figured out something more that I needed,” Paul said softly, scratching the back of his neck, clearly nervous.

“You did?” you breathed. “W-what was it?”

His chest rose and fell with a calming exhale, making sure your stares were secured before giving his answer. “…You.”

*

Tagging some lovelies who might want to read. Feel free to let me know if you don’t want to tagged in future works!

@tlcwrites @roanniom @princessxkenobi @hopeamarsu @blowthatpieceofjunk @mariesackler @leatherboundriot @foxilayde @modernpaw @cornmousequeen @direnightshade @mylifeisactuallyamess @caillea @jynz-andtonic @paterson-blue @miraclesabound @prismaticpizza​ @millenialcatlady​ 

#paul sevier #paul sevier x reader #paul sevier x female reader #adcu #adcu fanfiction

[babuis]

Who Needs Memories? [Chilumi] - 1

Genre: Long Fic

Word Count: 2.2k

Synopsis: Lumine is not naive. Through her thousands of years living, she should know better. Should have learned better. She knew better then to trust someone who threw her insecurities into her face. So why was she here, standing in the room of the person who betrayed her while wanting to give him another chance?

Or

Events from before the Golden House between Childe and Lumine to the unreleased future.

A/n: I’m deciding on whether I want to pursue this as a long fic in my google docs. Tbh I can really only write for Genshin when I’m in this strange, dreamy, longing mood where I wish to leave everything behind and enter the world of Genshin- it just feels so inviting and like home for some reason.

Pulled this out of my ass Bcs I’m in that mood rn. Sadness makes me poetic (but I’m not sad? Genshin gets me in a very dreamy mood)

So imma test it out by seeing how it’s received. Should I make this into a longer series?

Story starts before golden house.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lumine couldn't go back to sleep. 

This wasn't a new development. Since arriving in Teyvat, she had fallen victim to many sleepless nights or sleeps that were interrupted by night terrors she couldn't quite remember until much later when it was no longer important. Sometimes when she did sleep, her dreams would be filled with fragments of memories from the thousands of years she lived with her brother from world to world before all of this that refused to leave her mind.

Tonight she had dreamed about the time when they weren't in a particular world, but rather the period in between where they simply existed in the clouds.

Lumine and Aether sat on a large cloud, staring into the expanse before them. They sat with their knees hugged to their chest, feeling the last rays of the sun brush over them before nightfall. 

"Hey Aether?'

"Hm?"

Lumine sighed as she lay lazily on her back. Her body sunk into the soft pillows of cloud ever so slightly and she stared up into the infinite abyss of the sky above their heads.

"Do you ever wonder what else is out there?' she questioned him, reaching her hand up, "We've been to so many worlds already. Will there be a point where we no longer learn new things?"

Aether scoffed lightly, turning his head to look at his twin, "We've been alive for thousands of years, have you yet to come to a world and not learn anything?"

"No," Lumine admitted, "But you said it yourself, we're so old already. What if one day..."

Aether sighed again, shifting to face his sister fully, "Don't worry about it. Worlds may be similar to each other. We may just arrive in them to fight a little, but there' always been subtle differences that make each special."

"Hmm," Lumine hummed, closing her eyes as a chill brushed over her body, "Do you think mom ever got bored?"

"Bored? She had twins."

Lumine chuckled lightly, "Yea, she did, didn't she?"

They didn't speak after that. Soon the vibrant colors of the sunset turned into the cool night sky and millions of stars twinkled around them, each representing a new world. Lumine shuddered slightly, wondering if her fears were silly. With so many worlds, surely there would be new things to see. A new purpose to have.

"We should go to that one next," Aether said, pointing to the brightest star to their left, "Burning up real bright."

Lumine nodded, shielding her eyes a bit from the light, "Sure is."

Aether lay down, settling beside her, "Go to sleep, Lumi," he said softly, "we got a new world ahead of that."

"Hmm," she hummed again, closing her eyes.

Soon, her brother's breathes turned steady as he fell asleep. She gave him one last peek before she too, succumbed to slumber. 

Even if they explored all the worlds there were and learned everything there was to know, she would be okay just as long as she had Aether by her side to navigate her life with her.

And then he was gone.

Lumine shuddered as the wind blew towards her from the water. It seemed to be particularly cold in Liyue that night on the harbor. She sat on the wooden dock, letting her slender legs hang over the edge. The stars shined above her, much like they had in her dream.

Except this time she was sitting on the hard dock instead of the fluffy clouds and she was alone.

Her hair tickled her cheek as she dejectedly thought about Aether. They had come to this world, the brightest one to their left, together, only to be separated. They had never separated before and the anxious heaviness that took permanent hold of her chest became heavier as she remembered her dream.

I miss you Aether.

This world had been shockingly new from the rest of the ones she had visited. With it's divisions between the archons and people, it seemed like this world was made up of multiple ones with a complexity that she kept getting dragged into.

It was something her past self would have marveled excitedly at- there was just so much to learn. But without Aether, without her rock through it all, it almost seemed meaningless. Her only purpose now, was to find him.

Perhaps this is what she got for wishing for a new purpose in life. If she could go back and take it all back, she would.

"Hey girlie, it's dangerous for you to be so lost in thought this late at night. A bad man could come and sweep you away."

Ah, Childe.

Lumine turned her head to see the blue eyes ginger standing behind her, a mischievous glint in his eye as he looked down at her. She licked her lips, turning away from him.

"What do you want, Fatui?" she asked harshly, "If you push me in the water, I'll blast you all the way to the stone forest."

Childe raised his hands up in surrender, a throaty chuckle making its way out of his mouth, "No need to be so hostile, I thought we shared a more intimate relationship than that."

"I'm warning you," Lumine said again, pulling her knees up to her chest.

Childe took a seat beside her, looking into the distance where she was, "I would never, girlie. I'm a bad man but I wouldn't push an unsuspecting lady into the water."

"Sure you wouldn't, Fatui," Lumine said with disdain.

"I wouldn't," he repeated, "What are you looking at? Actually, what are you doing up so late? It's well past your bed time."

Lumine snorted, "You're not older than me."

"I'll have you know I'm a young adult," Childe protested.

Lumine gave him a wry smile, "As am I."

"You don't look a day older 18," Childe hmphed, "Pray tell, Ojou-chan, how old are you really?"

Lumine finally glanced at the ginger who was staring at her with curious eyes, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"I would, actually," he said, not looking away.

'You wouldn't even be able to fathom it if you tried,' Lumine thought to herself, 'nor is it safe for me to tell you.'

Childe stared at Lumine some more, refusing to be the first to look away. Her golden eyes burned with something he couldn't quite place, but were at the same time quite hardened. Her lips were pressed into a thin line and her eyebrows were softly furrowed into a stern looking pout. 

'How cute,' he mused to himself, 'too bad you're just a pawn in Tsaritsa's game.'

"You don't trust me," he settled on saying, his mouth quirking to the side.

Lumine finally looked away, making Childe celebrate internally, 'ha! I win!'

"Why should I?" she muttered.

"I get it, La Signora gave you a bad impression," Childe said, "But like I said, I don't particularly like her either. I'm the black sheep of the Harbingers you know, we're not all like her."

Lumine didn't say anything. If she learned anything from her extensive existence, it was to not trust a man like Childe.

"Fine, then answer this for me since you're unwilling to share," Childe caved, "What are you doing up so late?"

Lumine shrugged, "It's not late. If I'm correct, it's a new day."

"Fine smart ass," Childe sassed her, "What are you doing up so early?"

"I guess I'm an early bird then," Lumine said vaguely, not wanting to mention her lack of sleep.

"Great answer."

The two sat in silence again, the breeze blowing even harder. Lumine shivered again at the wind's caress which prompted Childe to shrug off his jacket to give to the blonde. Lumine noticed and put her hand up to stop him hurriedly, not wanting to create even more debt to the Harbinger.

"You're cold," Childe insisted, "Take it."

Lumine frowned, "No, you're cold. You take it."

"Ojou-chan," he said, exasperated, "I'm from Snezhnaya, a bit of wind isn't going to kill me."

Lumine raised an eyebrow, "I use Anemo powers, a little bit of wind isn't going to kill me either."

"But it'll make you sick."

"No it won't."

"Yes it will."

"No it won't."

"Yes it will."

"No it won't."

She knew it wouldn't. It had been a very long time since Lumine had gotten sick, the last time being in a world with giant man eating beings. The only reason for her sickness, of course, wasn't her health, but the disgusting stench of dead bodies.

Lumine stubbornly stood up and started walking down the dock back towards the center of the town where she was staying. She was done with this conversation- done with him. However, Childe seemed to have other plans as he followed the petite girl down the paved road.

"Stop following me," came Lumine's cutting words, not even bothering to look back.

'Charming,' Childe thought as he ignored her words, "It's dangerous for a pretty girl to roam around the town in the dark."

Lumine simply rolled her eyes, coming to a halt in front of a random building, "I'm not in danger of the Milleleth anymore, and I'm sure I could handle some petty thieves if I did a dragon."

"Ah, that's right. I'm talking to the Hero of Mondstadt here," Child said teasingly, 'and the biggest pain in the ass to Tsaritsa.'

Lumine gave him an unimpressed look, "I suppose that's right, so as you can see, I can handle myself."

'If anything, you're the biggest threat in this town,' she thought distastfully.

"Alright then, Ojou-chan, I'm off-"

Before he could finish his goodbye, he was cut off by a large growl emitting from Lumine's stomach. For the first time that night, Lumine lost her composure and blushed a bright red and her body burned hotter than the sun despite the chilly morning air. Childe paused, blinking twice, before busting out into laughter that caused the girl to further lose composure.

'Damn this near mortal body!' Lumine cursed, 'I never had to eat this often before!'

"Hahaha!" he laughed heartily, clutching his sides, "Did you perhaps eat the dragon to defeat it?" he teased her.

Lumine growled, "Shut up," she said hotly.

"Say, why don't I take you and Paimon to get some food then?" Childe suggested, "I'm sure you're hungry and you wouldn't turn down free food when you lack Mora."

Lumine grumbled quietly to herself, knowing he was right. She had very little Mora left thanks to Paimon spending so much on food and she was admittedly hungry. Hunger was a foreign concept to her body up until recently, and she detested the very idea of it.

"Don't be stubborn Ojou-chan," Childe persisted, "I did afterall, save you from the Millelith didn't I?"

Lumine begrudgingly nodded her head, "Fine," she said quietly, "Let me get Paimon first."

And so they walked side by side to her inn- that he helped he book- to fetch Paimon and go eat. They walked leisurely, as if they weren't two people that were on drastically different sides. They walked as if they were acquaintances- as if they were friends to the unknowing eye.

Lumine knew she shouldn't. She should have stopped all interaction after that one time he helped her out by clearing her name. Shouldn't have accepted the help nor the Mora from him- no matter how broke she was. She could have found a way or slept on the outskirts of the town. She shouldn't be accepting his invitation to eat.

What was wrong with her?

Teyvat had proved to be full of surprises, her behavior being one of them. It had been months since she woke up from her slumber. When was the last time she had stayed in one place for so long? Fought off monsters for other people rather than the thrill of the fight?

It didn't matter, Lumine supposed. What mattered was finding her brother and what happened after that would be a future Lumine problem. What else was there to do after finding her brother? What was the purpose of her world hopping?

Lumine no longer remembered.

As they neared the inn where she left Paimon, she could hear the floating girl's shrill and angry voice scolding her for leaving. Paimon's voice only turned more sour when she saw the Fatui next to her.

"Lumine!" the pixie exclaimed, "You can't leave to go rendezvous with the enemy!"

Lumine  gave the little girl an unimpressed look, "I did no such thing, he's cashing in a favor."

"A favor?" Childe interrupted, "Considering I'm paying for your food, I'd say I'm doing a service and you know owe me a favor."

Paimon looked angry for a second, "Lumine! You can't just- wait, did Paimon just hear you say food?"

"Sure did little one," Childe grinned, "Come on, it's my treat."

And just like that, Paimon's anger disappeared at the promise of something warm to fill her stomach. Constellations materialized around her floating body as she followed the ginger to a restaurant he claimed that he knew 'they would just love.'

Lumine lingered at the steps of the inn, staring up into the sky that was now painted with the vibrant colors of the sunrise. 

What was the purpose of her life?

Lumine basked in the warmth of the sun and found comfort in the lack of visible stars in the sky.

Lumine didn't remember.

Perhaps she never knew.

#chilumi #lumine #ying lumine #tartaglia #Childe #ajax #genshin impact #genshin lumine #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin childe #genshin paimon #genshin ajax #teyvat #Childe x lumine #ship #angst #fluff #fic #who needs memories? #genshin fic #genshin fan fic