#Springtime colors and ideas

[kentnaturaltribrid]

“We choose our own path. Our values and our actions, they define who we are.”

1. got bored

2. there’s 5 more days till Halloween 🎃 and 3 more days till Summer, so decided not much else is going to happen for a while unless there’s time.

Well that and seems like there’d be less to deal with some of these things than the rest of the pieces or piles of time. However, still going on with a few projects for the rest of seasons. Might have to start as early as June though if going forward finishing up them.

Blue- Warlock

Pink- Witch

White- Pure Souls

Red- Fall Magic and Pure Spirits

And as for other colors well, they’re just complex pieces in the pattern.

Yellow - Summer

Green- Spring

Orange- Souls and Spirits

Silver- Spirits and Communication

Dark Green-Blue; Death

Teal- Sound

Purple- Spirits and Voids

Other colors (Black, Brown, Ect);

Loosely connected back to ground level.

Black- Souls and Death

mahogany- Spirits and Connections

And then other colors outside of that, well a few are missing but should still fit in the pile.

[marinawoznjuksworld]

[terracegallery]

Garden Eggcellence Flower Art

Colorful flower garden with a unique hummingbird in an egg shape by artist Sharon Cummings. Each flower, leaf and bird is hand drawn and hand painted by me. I then collage to create an original image. Perfect for home or office furnishings and accents. Great springtime beauty! GET IT HERE!

[ladybirdswritings]

INVISIBLE STRING, AU — clark kent x reader.

DESCRIPTION: you lock eyes with a charming stranger at a party you’d rather not be at. NOTES - leave me all your thoughts and opinions. i love them <33 | next part

one…

What am I doing here? The words echoed in your head like a pulsing poison, eating away at your brain like ants to honeycomb.

Your brother was off sitting in a circle, fawning over cars, football, and all else that fueled testosterone and silly male enjoyment.

And then there was you, hugging the corner like an old lover, its shadows mirroring your open embrace.

“We should go over there,” declared Kate, a ringlet of her curl dancing with the springtime breeze. “You know, to see what the boys are talking about.”

No. No no no no no no—

“Yeah, we should!” Oh, if people wouldn’t see it as odd for you to slam a hand against your cheek…

There was a glaze over your pretty, fretting eyes and restless mind, a honeyed glaze slick with doubt and dissociation. You’d pushed yourself enough by coming here, and now you were being led like lamb to cleaver—ready to face your slaughter at the hands of—oh.

So busy was your mind that you might have kept your head bowed if not for subconscious pleasure.

His boots were shiny, and his denim tailored—and it’s all you paid attention to before your gaze shifted upward to find two remarkable blue-gray eyes peering in curiosity.

“Clark!” he blurted, offering a strong hand, and if you had half a mind, you would have realized it wasn’t politeness but interest.

You, always so caught up in doubts and hyperfocusing on imperfections. So caught up that you never quite saw what mirrored in men’s eyes when they gazed hungry at you: intimidation. You were strong, intelligent—and God—so pretty. Yet you could only breathe in your lack.

So no, when the handsome flannel boy with glasses far too big for his chiseled face and unruly raven hair—when his southern-kissed greeting met your ears, you had no idea it was a game.

A game between the men.

First to catch her interest would be first to have her.

But Clark was different. He wasn’t interested in feeding off the competition, he wanted to beat them to it. To offer you what they could not. But you knew none of this. You only knew that he greeted women as if a fire was forcing his hand.

“Y/N,” you warmed with a smile, shaking his hand in turn. He pulled back, gazing at his palm for a moment before a pinch settled between his brows.

“This is my sister, everyone. And this is my girlfriend, Kate.” Your brother strung Kate to him like a fly to spiderweb. She became smiley again, saying, “We got bored and decided to eavesdrop.”

“Be our guest,” Clark offered, the southern tang to his voice so soft you had to drown out the world to catch it. His eyes were on you, but your head was too bowed to realize.

Your gaze flickered to Kate sitting atop your brother’s lap. You shifted on your feet.

Vance, your brother’s friend, whom you had an insufferable crush on, stood in unison with Clark.

Their gazes locked in a silent contest you were too innocent to realize before Vance, frustrated, laughed breathily and sat back down.

“Oh no, it’s fine—” you began, but Clark shook his head, stepped aside, and motioned to the armchair. His gaze was so severe you had no choice but to comply.

You shuffled over awkwardly, finding your seat—only Clark stood beside you. He smelled of honeyed whiskey, chai, old books, and firewood. You stared at his veined hand on the arm of your seat, your mind wandering for a moment… What might that hand feel like against your skin?

“Surprised you guys aren’t over there yapping about books,” Vance began, his coal-colored eyes blanketing your face like a sinful dare.

It would never work. He was the moon, and you were the sun, warm and bright opposed to cold encased by darkness. But for months, his subtle flirtations evoked a lonesome part of your heart. Perhaps it was the lesser part of you, used to unhealthy men, that made you bend toward his attention like a starved flower. Regardless, you did, and it never made you feel less awful after parting.

When your gaze broke from his, you giggled shyly in unison with Kate, but that strong voice sliced through, commanding your attention again.

“You like to read?” he asked.

You flicked upward to Kate, only to find her chocolate stare upon you.

Oh… he was asking you.

“Um—” you began, nervous to have attention on your voice. “Well, yeah, sort of.”

“Sort of?” he tested with the lazy beginnings of a smile. You realized then how silly you sounded.

“Do you read?” you asked Clark, allowing your curiosity to bring your eyes back to him. As if he were a marionette, and you his new puppet, being pulled by an invisible string so he might study your pretty eyes. Were they always so warm and doe-like? Or had the wine made them more gentle? He wondered as you turned the question onto him.

“I do,” he replied, but when you grew shy and quiet again, he winced at himself. His icy gaze stuttered toward Vance, and he knew then that he’d have to open his mouth if he wanted your attention. He’d just have to work a little harder, and that was okay.

Usually, pretty girls like you would flock to him with no effort needed. Something about him looking like a Pinterest boyfriend, and all he had to do was sit and attract. But you… something about you told him you weren’t like the rest.

“I uh— I do.” He continued, breaking the stretched silence. “Sally Rooney—” he began, but you cut him off immediately.

“You read romance?” Your eyes widened, and your body turned toward him, and for a moment, you were completely lost in his words.

He didn’t pause or flicker with annoyance at your enthusiasm but instead gave you a lopsided grin.

“I do,” he confirmed. Though not a lie, he found himself a fisherman who’d hooked you with the most irresistible bait. Pretty, mysterious, shy girl you were—now he’d get you to talk. “Do you?”

Kate cut in, “We read about fairies and dragon riders.” You flushed a pretty pink with an embarrassed laugh. He peered down at you, giving Kate only a ghostly laugh of acknowledgment.

“You like fantasy, then?” he said so low it was as if the conversation was reserved for only the two of you.

As if fate were aiding his hand, the others fell into comfortable conversation. Not you, though. You were pinned under his grayed gaze.

“I read anything with a good love story,” you answered, so honestly, it surprised you.

“I like that,” he said simply, as if he were talking to himself. When he realized it, a pinch snaked between his brows, and you couldn’t help but softly laugh. He mirrored you. “What?”

“You’re likely the only man alive who does, if you’re telling the truth.”

“Well I—” he began, but your brother cut in.

“Ready to head out, Y/N?” You noticed just how entranced you’d been in this handsome stranger, not for his pretty face or interests, but for his words. The rest never mattered—not for you anyway. You often found it hard to capture any man’s attention, let alone the handsome ones. Even so, a lick of disappointment thrummed in your heart.

You dared to wonder what might happen if you offered your social media so he could contact you again. But the idea sped your heart and widened your eyes, so you stood with a nod.

Vance offered you a warm hug, and you merely waved at the others before turning to Clark—well, Clark’s chest. He towered over you, his honeyed whiskey scent licking your senses as he pulled you into a warm embrace. Gentle, curious, as if testing the feel of your body against his. Stranger to stranger—but he was so warm, so confusingly familiar.

“It was nice to meet you, Y/N,” he spoke first, pulling away. Swayed by his warmth, you could only nod.

Now was your chance. Your once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to ask for a way to keep in contact with this mysterious stranger. But you cowered when you glanced up at his pretty face.

Fate wasn’t kind, and in your mind, you decided there was a model waiting for his warmth at home—and you were only allowed to entangle with him for a moment, never again.

“You too, Clark…”

Then you were off, never to see the mysterious stranger ever again.

[milkteabinniechan]

♡Dear Lover - Hyunjin

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY MEMBERSHIP//M.LIST

pairing: fiancè Hyunjin x fem! reader

summary: Your parents have picked a husband for your sister and the two of them have been writing love letters back and forth for years before they meet on their wedding day. There is just one problem: you've been the one sending the letters to her future husband and now you're in love!

warnings: just fluff! some angst, drama, very soft hyunjin, lovesick reader

“Maybe start with why you were the one writing me the letters and not your sister?” Hyunjin’s nostrils flared as he spoke. But his tone wasn’t angry, just confused. You looked exactly how he pictured you from your letters. A softness about you that translated through your words.

“She asked me to. In the beginning, she didn’t want to write to you. So, she asked me to do it instead to make our parents happy.” You pulled at the hem of your shirt, twisting it this way and that while your eyes stayed fixed on the ground. “Please, don't be upset with her.”

Hyunjin stepped back for a moment. His eyes searched yours as the two of you finally locked onto one another. Eyes that he had pictured late at night. A face he had only seen in his dreams. Everything he had said in the letter was true. He was in love, just not with your sister. But the wedding was planned, the invitations sent out.

It was springtime when the letters first began. You remember the sound of birds chirping outside your bedroom window when your parents made the announcement that your sister was to be wed on the year of her 21st birthday.

“But I don’t want to marry someone I’ve never met!” She screamed. You were only partially paying attention. You were no longer the focus of your parents' attention. You were twenty-four now and practically a spinster. Your sister was going to have her wedding the very next spring. One year. She had one year to comply and accept what was happening.

“We’ve already failed with your older sister, we will not fail with you.” Your father boomed. His fat finger pointed sternly at you.

While your little sister protested for a few weeks, she ultimately agreed upon the marriage if she could at least see who she was to be betrothed to. But letters are all his family would agree to. A stern, traditional family that negotiated the terms of advised letters to be written once a week for one year until the wedding day. Meetings were held in secret by the patriarchs of the two families. Hands were shook and large cigars were smoked in celebration of the upcoming union. Then one cool spring night, your sister came knocking at your door with a favor to ask.

“You’re a writer. Just write the letters for me and make me sound good okay?” She begged, her hands folding together while her eyes pleaded with you.

Reluctantly you agreed. One week after the other, you tried your best to sound like your sister. You wrote about her interests instead of your own. You included her favorite color and her favorite kind of food. But somewhere down the line, you slipped. Hyunjin had written about a favorite book of yours – Little Women. He had written paragraphs discussing the different characters and the depth of their description and diversity from one another. He had gushed about the writing style and the eloquent use of simile and metaphors. And your heart fluttered, fluttered and flipped in a way that was new and exciting. Your next letter was completely you. It was your voice, your thoughts, your ideas. The words just flowed out of you like wine and you would feel almost drunk by the time you signed your sister’s name at the bottom.

Hyunjin would soon write about more personal subjects; his fears and insecurities. Of which you felt a kinship with. You would respond with words of comfort and love, thanking him for being so open and vulnerable with you. You would tell him about a beautiful sunset you saw or the lovely sound that snow made when you take a step early in the morning. Hyunjin would tell you how ready he was to hear that sound. How eager he was to hold you, to hear your laugh and touch your lips at last-

When everything was said and done, you knew the exact moment that things had gone too far. You had said “I love you” in your final letter before the wedding. Hyunjin had responded that he was on his way and that he “loved you more that there were stars in the sky.”

You held that last letter tightly in your hands as the all black town car pulled into the driveway of your family home. You would see him, finally see him, and he would see you. Only you would be a shadow cast behind your sister. Hyunjin could never know that those words were not hers. He would marry her and you would go back to your life before. As Hyunjin slowly stepped out of the car, the sunlight shone through his hair like a beacon. His forearm flexed as he gripped the car door and closed it behind him. He stood still for a moment, his eyes flicking between you and your sister until his gaze finally landed on you. Your sister hastily stepped in front of you and introduced herself. Hyunjin shook his head for a second to break the stare between the two of you before smiling warmly at your sister. He held her tightly, his long arms sweeping around her waist and pulling her close to his chest.

“I am so happy to meet you in person, my love!” He exclaimed, his hand coming up to cradle your sister’s face.

Dinner was a complete blur. The clanking sound of silverware and glasses swirled around your ears while your mind drifted further and further from the dining room. The voices of your family were distant, just an echo of a sound as you attempted to keep your food down. After dinner, Hyunjin and your sister snuck off somewhere in the house to be alone. You made your way up to your room and lied on your bed, willing your brain to erase the last year so the heaviness in your chest would subside.

“Fine! Okay? I didn’t write those stupid letters! But that doesn’t mean anything, right?” your sister shouted from the other side of the wall. You stayed in bed and made your way to the wall that divided your two rooms to see if you could hear anything. “She’s a loser! You don’t want her!” Your sister screamed.

“If she is the one that wrote all those letters, then I do. I do want her.”

Your heart dropped. You moved your head away from the wall and turned to face your bedroom door as you heard footsteps approach.

“Please, don’t be upset with her.”

“I’m not upset with her.” Hyunjin took a step closer, closing the gap between the two of you. “You look just as I imagined.” He whispered, his breath brushing softly against your neck.

Your breath hitched as he moved closer. Your hands move instinctively to his waist. Your hips coming into contact with his as his hands move down your back and come to rest at your sides. He leans into your ear and speaks in a low tone. A secret shared just between the two of you. Something intimate that nothing in this world could penetrate. “You’re the one I want to marry. You’re the bride I have been waiting for.”

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[owlespresso]

a gentler shade of green. jing yuan tags. a/b/o, spice beneath the cut, fluffy, jing yuan getting a little jealous for the lovely @lorelune, who also writes many delightful things that you should check out!

Mid-afternoon sunlight suffuses the Luofu with lush springtime warmth. The pleasant weather brought the citizenry out in droves, the air riddled with a myriad of different scents. An overwhelming amount especially when combined with the riotous chattering of the crowd. As unfortunate as it is to have to cut your daily market trip short, you can come home safe in the knowledge that Jing Yuan will be there to receive you.

You like to swing buy the markets and grab yourself a little treat, before visiting his offices. He never asks, but you always make sure to bring some of his favorite sweets, a courtesy that makes him melt every time, makes him beg you to settle on his lap. Offers you have to, unfortunately, decline lest you scandalize his poor employees. 

He’s taken a rare day off. And a day off typically entails lounging in bed until late morning or early afternoon, clinging to you like a child clings to their favorite plush toy. Extricating yourself from his grapple hadn’t been easy, a feat only managed after petting him for five straight minutes and assuring him you would be back within the hour. 

You snake back onto the property through the side entrance. A narrow pathway slides along the western edge of the estate, leading out unto the gardens. The cherry blossoms are in full bloom. Chrysanthemums and azaleas and an array of colorful tulips line the paths, swaying in the delicate breeze. The urge to lay and roll around in the veritable field of flora is nearly crushing. You willfully resist the temptation, slipping into his bedroom through the glass sliding door beyond the wooden deck. 

It’s exactly as you left it. One nightstand on each side of the bed. A lacquered vanity. A small seating area with two, comfortable chairs. An extravagant overhead chandelier that’s typically ignored in favor of a standing lamp in the corner. And one Jing Yuan, who manifests as a lump beneath the duvet. 

Said lump shifts the moment the door clicks shut behind you. His head pokes out from the thick covers, shaggy bangs thrown over his eyes. His glossy mane of snow white is frazzled from being pressed into the sheets–one side noticeably more so than the other. 

“You’re back,” he says, voice nice and rumbly with sleep. The scent of him is thickest, here. Your shoulders slump with an instinctual sort of relief, as though your body realizes it is home. His lips part with a yawn and his arms stretch above his head. The rippling muscle of his torso emerges from the sea of silks, his pecs fatty and arms thick. His nipples pebble in the comparably chilly air of the open bedroom. A mottling of bluish-purple spans across part of his right shoulder, and you nearly flush. Had you really bit him that hard, yesterday?

“How was the market?” he asks, looking at you through low-lidded eyes. Glowing amber peers out from beneath frayed hoarfrost lashes. The smile that pulls at the corners of his lips is sleepy and content.

“Crowded,” you huff, gently placing your bag of tasty goods on the nightstand. 

“Hm. I can tell,” Jing Yuan says, and does not elaborate when you send him a questioning glance. You turn away to peek into the bag, searching for his favorites. You typically keep a firm policy of no food on the bed, because the idea of getting crumbs on those expensive sheets is blasphemy to you… but a single chocolate-covered strawberry couldn’t hurt. 

Jing Yuan, ever the master strategist, spots the opening and exploits it wholly. His broad arms wrap around your midsection and tug you backwards. It’s not just a pull. He brings you straight off your feet, dropping backwards onto the mattress. The undignified sound that leaves you is better left uncatalogued for the sake of your pride. You both collapse in a heap with your back to his front.

“Jing Yuan!” you hiss, giving his forearm a harmless little smack. He laughs quietly in your ear, a brush of warm air caressing your sun-warmed skin. His iron-clad grip breaks apart, one large palm setting on your hip. The other lands atop your stomach, hot and calloused.

“My apologies,” he says, amused and very much not sorry. “In my defense, you afforded me a very considerate opening.” As he spoke, he moved one of his thick thighs to settle in between your legs, raising it by bending his knee. 

The entire, hot length of him presses up against your back. The position very quickly becomes more obscene than you expected–his throbbing cock pressed tight to your bottom. The hand on your tummy slips beneath your blouse to pet your warming skin. The scent of him is thickest here, in his bed, blankets all rucked up and pillows unevenly spread across the mattress. “Did anyone bother you, while you were out?” Jing Yuan inquires, and makes it very difficult to answer by kissing you behind the ear. You exhale. That familiar, tingling sort of warmth begins to settle between your thighs. He wraps you in his pheromones. The dense shroud of his scent renders you hazy when paired with the unmistakable, yet understated possessiveness of his touch. Every possible qualm is brushed away by the smooth baritone of his voice. 

Jing Yuan does not ask if other alphas touched you. He does not demand to know who you were with, doesn’t stake his claim with the immediate urgency a younger, less experienced alpha might. He coaxed and nudged, knowing you will come to him on your own terms, eager to find solace in your alpha’s protective embrace. 

“No,” you say, after a long moment. 

“That took awhile. Are you sure?” he hummed. A low sound kicked up in his chest, a syrupy purr that reverberates beneath your skin, settling your overwrought nerves. The hand on your stomach makes the journey south. His big fingers dive beneath your waistband, past the soft hairs of your to seek your (admittedly quite wet) cunt. 

He fingers you open with an unbearable amount of patience. More playing with your sodden folds than actually attempting to do anything. The meat of his palm slides against your clit and suddenly–the space between your bodies feels so much hotter. Your head lolls back onto his shoulders, breath escaping you in small pants. Your hips grind into the thick digits, hands skimming over the sheets in desperate search of something to grab.

And then he stops. The abruptness of it makes you whimper, hips continuing to grind even as he withdraws his hand. 

“I didn’t hear an answer,” he teases. Evil, evil man. Devious felon. It feels like a betrayal, almost. You trusted him with your pleasure and he ruthlessly has stolen it away. 

You would love to tell him as much, but then he lifts his hand to his mouth and you can hear the rasping of his tongue as he swipes your juices off each finger. The sheer obscenity of it makes the hairs along the back of your neck raise. 

“Jing Yuan,” you say–plead, despairingly. Much to your embarrassment, you sound like you’re about to cry. You throw your arm across your eyes. Is it not enough to have you trembling in his arms? Must he torment you so? You can hardly recall the initial question, fogged with pleasure and overly-warm. 

He laughs, sun-bright and charming enough to make you forgive him. He rocks his thigh against your cunt, and you arch your hips, mindlessly chasing the friction. 

“You’re alright,” he coos, slipping his fingers back into your trousers to tease your sopping cunt. Two slip inside, embarrassingly easy. He resumes his steady pace, palm grinding against your clit with every pass. 

The pads of his fingers press against the soft, upper wall of your cunt. He adds a third–and curls them–and that’s what makes the coil snap. You break into your first orgasm with a broken little whimper. Your toes curl and your eyes shut tight. You keep rolling your hips, each grind sparking another wave of liquid hot pleasure. His fingers remain sheathed inside of you, just to feel the way your walls spasm.

He pulls out when your whining turns to the pained side of overstimulated. The room settles into a contented quiet, only disrupted by the soft sound of your panting. Your eyes flutter shut, legs fallen open around his thighs. His cock, rock-hard and throbbing, presses to the small of your back. But he doesn’t make any move to alleviate the strain. Instead, he presses his face into the crook of your neck and breathes you deep. His touch returns to your stomach, clean hand petting at your hips, your stomach. 

The myriad of scents which clung to you upon your return have been dissipated, banished like wispy, loathsome spirits. Is that why…? You begin to wonder, but quickly and contentedly decide it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you’re sated, and warm, and resting limply in his arms.

[ananxiousgenz]

PSPSPSPSPS GUES WHO JUST POSTED FIC AGAIN AFTER MONTHS OF RADIO SILENCE!!!!

@lighthouseshepard and @potato-lord-but-not come hither i provide a humble meal for thee

“Are you sure you want this, doll?” Noel’s voice floated through the haze of John’s blackened vision. “You seem a little…”

John huffed in exasperation and flicked his eyes open, wincing slightly at the sudden flood of light in his vision. Noel sat beside him, handsome as ever in the warm, yellow glow of the overhead light, a needle poised in his hand and a slightly worried expression on his face. 

“A little what, Noel,” John grumbled.

Noel’s arm dropped to his side as he sighed and scanned John’s face. “A little tense. It ain’t gonna hurt that bad, kid, I promise.”

John chewed on his lip and looked away, tracing the patterns in the old wallpaper beside him with his eyes. He didn’t want to admit it, but Noel was right. He was tense. Tenser than he should have been for the situation. He’d survived the sheer agony of being quite literally ripped from Arthur’s mind and forced into a new body well enough, but he couldn’t handle a damn needle piercing his ear? It was ridiculous. It would be fine. It had to be fine.

“Look, if you’re that worked up about it, I can just take the earrings back to the store, no problem–”

“No.” John snapped back to meet Noel’s gaze with a sudden intensity. “I want this. I’m sure of it.”

“Your behavior ain’t exactly encouraging that idea.”

“It’s fine. Just get it over with already.”

“Alright.” Noel sighed as he lifted the needle back up and leaned in closer to John’s ear. “Just try to relax a little for me, hm, sweetheart?”

“You try to relax when you know you’re about to get stabbed,” John muttered as he shut his eyes and tried to think of something else, anything else.

As Noel hummed out a low chuckle in his ear, John’s mind drifted back to a few weeks earlier. They’d been out shopping, him and Arthur, on a crisp, sunny afternoon with the promise of spring kissing the breeze to a warm blush. They were not doing anything special, just going out for groceries after Noel had depleted their supply of pasta and fresh vegetables for a wonderful surprise dinner the night before, but because the weather had been so nice, they decided an extra stroll around the block was in order. Or, rather, John had decided, insisting that Arthur could stand getting a little more sun after some late nights case working with Noel, much to Arthur’s fond annoyance.

As they walked, John described their surroundings to Arthur, noting the puffy milkweed-seed clouds dotted across the sky and the soft pink buds sprouting off the trees and on the verge of bursting into bloom. On the course of their walk, they’d passed a particularly lovely display in a department store window, advertising new ladies fashions for spring. The mannequins were lovely, draped in colorful, vibrant fabrics in pastel pinks and emerald greens and tangerine oranges with shiny broaches and matching accessories against a painted backdrop of a springtime park. John had paused in their walk to describe the full picture to Arthur, and mentally tried to match the colors with his paint set at home so he could try painting this window when their errands were done. Perhaps he’d finally get to use that gorgeous phthalo green paint Oscar had gotten him for Christmas to paint that hat perched daintily on the mannequin. 

A smaller section of the window was dedicated to showcasing the new pieces of jewelry for sale. They were pretty, sparkly pieces studded with gold and silver and gemstones, things that would have looked right at home on the neck or wrist of a particularly wealthy woman. John had always enjoyed stopping to look at them. Watching the way light would refract through the gemstones and make the polished metal gleam was always a pleasant experience, and one he cherished describing to Arthur. 

“There are watches here as well,” John narrated, eyes darting over the pieces on offer in the window. “A number of sparkling bracelets and necklaces are displayed in boxes or draped over elegant cream-colored fabric. The majority of them are made of gold and diamonds, I believe, although I don’t know enough about gemstones to be certain. There are earrings here as well, small studs with multi-colored gemstones and…”

John trailed off as his eyes caught on a pair of lovely earrings, diamond drops that glittered in the sun with a vibrancy that stopped him dead in his tracks. John hadn’t known anything could sparkle like that outside of stars on a crisp winters’ night, or the surface of a summery lake at noon. They were positively dazzling, and something in John’s mind latched on to those glittery stones and refused to let go, a stubborn dog refusing to drop its favorite toy when asked to give it up.

He had barely even realized that he’d lapsed into silence until Arthur had gently bumped John’s knee with his cane to get his attention and asked what was the matter. John said it was nothing. Arthur didn’t believe the lie for a moment, but John insisted, and though Arthur tried to argue, John had gotten rather good at carrying on their game of back-and-forth bickering until Arthur was too frustrated to continue the discussion. So, the issue was dropped, and their errands continued like normal. 

But all through the grocery store, John couldn’t stop thinking about those earrings. They pervaded every corner of his brain, dogging his thoughts like a particularly malicious monster. Those earrings might be one of the most stunning things he’d ever seen, outside of Arthur and Oscar and Noel, of course. He’d gotten so distracted while they were grocery shopping that he almost collapsed the neat tower of apples in the produce section, nearly sending them spinning across the floor in every direction. Damn his clumsy human body. Why did his train of thought have to affect his physical actions too?

A sharp sting of pain in John’s right ear lobe brought him roaring back to the present, yelping at the sensation.

“There ya go, doll,” Noel crooned, reaching for the little box on the counter. “That’s one done. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“You just stabbed me!” John protested, throwing up his hands. “How is that supposed to be ‘not bad’?!”

Noel shook his head with a fond smile as he threaded the new earring into John’s ear while John whined in pain. “So dramatic. Might I remind you, sunshine, that you were the one who wanted your ears pierced. You did sign up for this.”

John huffed and looked away. Sure, he was being dramatic, but that did hurt. It was a needle going through his ear! Which was then replaced with a piece of metal! The fact that humans would willingly subject themselves to pain for the sake of appearances, however minor, was mind boggling to him, and deep down, he was beginning to develop a newfound respect for and astonishment at womens’ fashions. But, he considered, Noel did have a point. He had asked for this, even when Noel warned him that it would hurt for a bit. John sighed again and turned his head, giving Noel access to his other ear.

“Just make it quick,” John muttered.

In his peripheral vision, Noel grinned that absurdly charming smile of his. “Of course. Just hold still for me.”

After that initial encounter with the earrings, John hadn’t been able to stop thinking about them. He’d gone into the store to ask how much they cost the very next day, and had been presented with a price tag with enough digits to make him cringe from a mile away. That had settled it. He’d never be able to afford those earrings on his own, and wouldn’t dare stoop to asking the others for the money to afford them. They all worked far too hard to afford the little they had, and John couldn’t ask them to spend so much on himself. He was resigned. The earrings would remain little more than a pleasant daydream. But still, still, he couldn’t stop thinking about them.

He’d make intentional detours while on errands, walking an extra five blocks to get home just so he could get a glimpse of them, sparkling in the window like coiled Christmas lights, like stars pulled down from the heavens. He’d even started dreaming about the damn things, glittering just beyond his reach and making him feel like Tantalus, that poor fellow from the Greek myths he’d read about just last week. He was, in all honesty, about as miserable as he could possibly be, and it was beginning to show. He’d started snapping at the others for no good reason, slacking off on his chores, and spending a lot of time curled up in his little corner of the apartment, reading and rereading the poetry books he’d annotated. John had heard the others talking about him in low, hushed voices from time to time, never when they thought he could hear, and never loud enough for him to decipher what they were saying.

Finally, Noel had sat him down for a chat. 

“What’s goin’ on, John?” Noel asked softly, his voice still low and crackly with sleep. John watched as his coffee steamed silent, elegant patterns in the bright beams of early morning light. “You’ve been actin’ strange. More tetchy than usual. Is everythin’ okay?”

John swallowed hard. “It’s nothing. Just haven’t been sleeping well.”

Noel narrowed his eyes and took a sip of coffee. “Uh-huh. Don’t kid a kidder, doll. Somethin’ is up and we all know it.”

John looked away. This was stupid. This was so stupid. They were just earrings. It wasn’t anything he should be getting this worked up over. And yet here he was, sulking over the fact that he couldn’t have a shiny thing that he wanted so desperately.

“It’s…” John sighed heavily and dropped his head, staring at the hands he’d left coiled in his lap. “It’s stupid.”

“Can’t be that stupid if it’s makin’ ya so upset,” Noel mused.

He wasn’t exactly wrong. John sighed again. How did Noel know exactly what John needed to hear? “I… There’s a pair of earrings. In one of the department stores downtown. I’ve been watching them for a while, and I just… they’re gorgeous. I can’t stop thinking about them, but they’re expensive. I’ll never be able to have them.”

Noel hummed in acknowledgement. “And that’s what’s botherin’ you so much?”

“It’s fucking stupid, I know,” John bit out, more venom in his voice than he intended. “I shouldn’t be reacting like this. They’re earrings! It’s nothing important! But somehow, I’m upset that I can’t have them, and the fact that I’m upset at all is just making me more and more upset, and I can’t stand it anymore!”

“Whoa there, doll,” Noel said, putting up a hand to stop John’s frustrated rambling. “Stop for just a second. First of all, don’t beat yourself up for the way you’re feelin’. Feelings ain’t somethin’ you can completely control, alright?”

“I know, but–”

“But nothin’.” Noel took another sip of his coffee. “What’s more important than you controllin’ how you feel is controllin’ how you act as a result, yeah? I learned that lesson the hard way. I get that it’s hard sometimes, but ya know, we can all help out if you ask for it. Me and Arthur and Oscar, we all love you, John. If you’re upset about something, we can help, but you gotta talk to us about it first.”

John felt his face go red with shame. “Yeah. You’re right. I… I’m sorry, Noel.”

Noel waved a hand, as though the apology were a pesky moth he was trying to shoo out of the air. “No need. You didn’t do anything worth a ‘sorry’ in my eyes. Now, for my second point, how’s about you and I get dressed, and you show me these earrings you’re pinin’ after?”

They had done exactly that. Noel had listened with great interest while John rambled on about his beloved earrings on their walk to the store window, and watched with marked interest at the pair John pointed out, agreeing that they were a rather spectacular pair of diamonds. It hadn’t cured the knot of upsettingly large sadness in John’s stomach, but having someone to talk to about the whole thing did make him feel better. Then they walked home, Noel telling some silly story about a client he and Arthur had to deal with the other day who’d insisted they investigate his pet dog and John doing his best to not laugh out loud. John, naively, believed that was the end of it. He was very wrong.

John came home the next day to a small box on the counter, topped with a bow and a gift tag with his name in elegant script. A… a gift? Who would have bought him a gift? It wasn’t Christmas, or his birthday as far as he knew. He scrunched his nose examining the handwriting, trying to decipher who it was from.

“That’s from me, doll,” Noel’s voice rang out from where he leaned in the doorway. When John simply stared at him in response, Noel nodded towards the box with a little smile. “Go on, open it. I think you’ll like it.”

John did so, albeit a bit slowly and warily from his confusion, ripping off the paper to reveal a small, velvet jewelry box. A jewelry box? John’s brow furrowed. Why would Noel be buying him jewelry? He popped open the box, and there inside, displayed like a pair of gleaming suns compressed to the size of a fingernail, were the motherfucking earrings.

John looked up from them to stare at Noel, mouth agape and brain ground to an absolute halt. What the fuck was happening? Noel stared back, grinning like he’d just won the lottery for a million dollars. “Surprise!” he said, doing a little jazz hands to emphasize the statement.

John’s brain worked frantically to find something, anything to say in response. How? What? Come on, you fool, say something!

“I– you– but– Noel, these are expensive,” John breathed, ducking his head to stare at the earrings cradled in his hands once again. “How did you–”

“I know the owner of that store. Owed me a favor,” Noel said, that infuriatingly charming grin of his as bright and wonderful as the dawn. “Turns out saving someone’s life from a cult ritual will getcha hefty discounts on just about anything ya want. Now, how about we pierce those gorgeous ears of yours, hm?”

And that was how they had ended up here, John whining about the pinch of the needle for the second time as Noel pierced his left ear, and Noel doing his best not to laugh at John’s dramatic expressions.

“Such a crybaby, you are,” Noel muttered, popping the second earring on with deft fingers while John rolled his eyes, unable to avoid the giddy smile that was beginning to make itself known on his cheeks. “Alright. You’re all done. You wanna take a look in the mirror?”

John nodded, and Noel graciously offered an arm to help him stand. Arm in arm, they crossed the bathroom to stand before the mirror. John couldn’t help the small gasp of surprise and delight that escaped his mouth when his reflection appeared in the mirror before him. He looked… well, he looked…

“Gorgeous,” Noel supplied, face appearing over John’s shoulder in the mirror with a smile as his arms settled around John’s waist.

John nodded slowly, examining his appearance. He looked just about the same as always, with long hair falling in dark waves down his back, smooth skin colored a warm brown, eyes erring just far enough from yellow to be considered a peculiar shade of golden brown. But the earrings brought a spark to his face that made everything seem brighter. His eyes seemed to glitter like cut topaz, his hair gleamed like polished onyx, even his teeth seemed whiter as a delighted smile took over John’s face. Wow. The earrings lent their shine to his whole demeanor, and John couldn’t help but think he looked nearly as much of a star as the earrings did.

“Gorgeous,” he repeated, testing the word on his tongue as he tilted his head to the side.

They sat there like that for a moment, watching their reflections in comfortable silence, John grinning like a fool and Noel watching him with a soft expression on his face that made John’s core warm with affection for him. It was quiet and comfortable and maybe a little butterfly-inducing, and John wouldn’t have had it any other way. This might just have been the best present he’d ever received.

He turned and kissed Noel on the cheek. “Thank you.”

“For what, doll?”

“What do you think? All of this. It’s…” John tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “I wasn’t expecting any of this. You didn’t have to buy me the earrings. But you did anyway so… thank you. You’re a sweetheart.”

At that comment, Noel’s face went pink and he stepped away from John’s back, waving a hand in the air. “Yeah, yeah. You’re welcome. Don’t expect it to happen again. I’m not made of money, y’know.”

John rolled his eyes affectionately. “You said the same thing when you bought that braille writer for Arthur. And when you bought those new books for Oscar. And when–”

Noel went even pinker. “That’s besides the point.”

“I don’t think it is–”

“Why don’t ya go show the others your earrings, hm?”

“And stop making you blush?” John grinned as Noel tried (and failed) to look annoyed. “Never.”

“Alright, alright, I get it, you can stop,” Noel said, finally letting the smile crawl onto his face. “You enjoy flirting, I get it. But I have errands to run, so unless you’re coming with me, I’m afraid I must say adieu.”

“‘Parting is such sweet sorrow,’” John murmured in response as he moved to kiss Noel goodbye.

“You’ve been reading Romeo and Juliet.” Noel said softly against John’s lips.

“I have.”

They kissed, soft and gentle, and John sighed at the touch. He could have stayed there forever, savoring the faint taste of Noel’s coffee and mint gum on his lips, the feeling of Noel’s lips on his own. But, as the best things tend to do, the kiss came to an end. Noel pulled away with a shy little smile, one reserved only for John, Arthur, and Oscar, and headed towards the door.

“See ya later, sweetheart,” Noel chirped as he grabbed his jacket and hat and headed out the door.

John smiled and waved him off, then curled up on the couch to read his poetry, feeling perfectly happy and content. A perfect end to an unexpectedly perfect day.

[maple-writes1802]

Please can you write something for lara croft or sadie adler?? I love them very much but they have so few fanfics and attention 😭😭 it can be a fluff or smut you choose!!! Femme reader who has a kind personality plsss 💗

gladly! got an idea for a scenario where sadie takes her beloved femme shopping so here you go :D sadie is one of my all time fav girls so im super happy to write for her!!

''I don't need any new clothes.'' You whine in protest as Sadie drags you into a Saint Denis tailor shop. You two live quite a far ride away from the bustle of the city, over in Big Valley near Strawberry but Sadie wanted you to have the best to choose from so she made a trip out of it. Sadie is always so good to you, you take care of her and your homestead while she brings in the money. But you can't help but feel bad whenever she spends her hard-earned money on pampering you.

''Nonsense, darlin'.'' She shushes your protests with a charming smile, letting out a small chuckle. ''I got some extra money from my last bounty huntin' job and your wardrobe definitely needs some refreshin'.''

Aware that arguing with her is pointless, you prepare to be treated like a dress-up doll for the next hour or so.

You don't even get two steps in the store and Sadie is already chatting with the gentleman at the counter, pointing to you over her shoulder and telling him exactly what you need.

The tailor quickly pulls himself out of his stupor, a bit rattled by Sadie's no-bullshit attitude and escorts you both to wait by the dressing room while he grabs some clothing pieces that would suit you.

Sadie manages to sneak in a quick kiss on your forehead before he comes back and she grins widely when she sets her eyes upon an array of different materials, styles and colors that the tailor is showcasing.

Most of the clothes you try are not to your liking, and while Sadie thinks you look beautiful in anything, your comfort is her priority. So far, all the dresses that were brought to you by the tailor were either too gaudy, too tight to be comfortable, or both.

That is until, you try on a light blue calico blouse, adorned with floral embroidery and a dark blue cotton skirt to pair with it. The set was comfortable and loose but not too loose in a way that would hide your curves. It was perfect for springtime and early summer, an ideal outfit for a nice picnic too.

Sadie whistled when you pulled the curtain aside to show her how the clothes fit you and she subtly nods to the tailor to let him know she'll be buying this outfit. As soon as the tailor turns around to leave and is out of sight, Sadie practically runs over to you, wrapping one arm around your waist and closing the curtain with the other one.

Once you're out of people's view, she tugs your chin up before smashing her lips against yours in a fiery kiss which you eagerly return. You wrap your arms around her shoulders, letting your body melt against hers in a passionate embrace.

Once you part for air, your cheeks redden at the sight of her blown-out pupils. She looks like a woman starved, like you're the most beautiful thing she's seen in her life. And to her, you were.

''Lord strike me down if you ain't the most stunning creature I've ever seen.'' she whispers, her voice husky with want and you can feel her arms tighten around you possessively.

You don't even get a chance to respond before she latches onto your neck, sucking and nipping right above your collarbone. She leaves a deep red lovers bite in her wake, a signature of hers you're very well familiar with by now. The tingling sensation her lips and teeth have left makes your head spin and Sadie can't help but revel in seeing just how much she affects you.

''Come on, darlin','' she coos softly as she helps you change out of the new clothes and back into your old ones. ''Let me pay for this and we can head on home. Maybe we can make camp somewhere no one can hear us and I'll show you just how damn pretty you look in this. And then I'll show you that I find you the prettiest when you got nothin' on at all.''

[juicycoutureheaux]

Pairing: Mark Grayson x TransferStudent!Reader

A/N: This is inspired by @wordsofwhimsy southern belle reader. As a girl from Georgia, I loved the idea of a transfer student from the south. This is short fluff, I don’t know if I’ll turn it into a multi chapter or keep it as just a fluffy one shot. This is definitely AU. I didn’t know how to fit in Amber into this if it becomes multi chapter.

No TW’s.

Y/N tapped her pink-painted nails on the desk, a soft rhythm filling the quiet classroom. Her gaze wandered out the window, where a squirrel was in a full-blown loop of climbing up and down the same tree. It was almost funny enough to distract her from the knot in her stomach.

She was early. She was always early—part nerves, part habit. Her family had just moved up from South Georgia, and this was her first day as the new kid. She had gone to the same Christian school her entire life. Now, she was a senior in a public school where cliques were sealed shut, and no one knew her name.

The culture shock hit hard. No uniforms, for starters. She hadn’t known what to wear. Her first day outfit—a Lily Pulitzer shift dress and white cardigan—made her stand out like a highlighter in a sea of hoodies and skinny jeans. She tried not to let it get to her. She liked the way she dressed. That should be enough, right?

Today she wore a pink gingham dress and the same monogrammed cardigan. A delicate strand of pearls sat at her collarbone, and her golden-brown curls were half-pulled back with a ribbon. She felt like springtime in a room full of November.

The classroom door banged open.

A tall boy with black hair rushed in, clearly late. His backpack half-zipped, one shoelace untied. He scanned the room quickly—and his eyes landed on the open seat next to you..

He hesitated.

“Is this seat taken? I mean—of course it is, I’ll find somewhere else—”

“Wait!” You blurted. “It’s not. You can sit here.”

He blinked, caught off guard. Then offered a crooked smile. “Thanks.” He sat, dropping his bag with a thud. “I’m Mark.”

“I’m y/n.” She tucked a curl behind her ear, heart fluttering. He was the first person to talk to her all morning.

Mark gave a little nod, but the silence crept in quickly. You cleared your throat.

“So… how long have you gone to school here?”

Mark straightened in his seat. “Since freshman year!” he said a little too enthusiastically. His ears turned pink.

You giggled softly. “That’s awesome. Have you lived here your whole life?”

“Yeah, born and raised. You’re not from around here, I’m guessing?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Kind of.” He grinned. “You dress like you walked out of a magazine ad. In a good way!”

You blushed. “Thanks. I’m from Savannah. I used to go to a private Christian school. We had uniforms, so this whole ‘pick your outfit every day’ thing is… kind of intense.”

Mark laughed. “Honestly, uniforms sound great. Half the time I just wear whatever smells clean.”

She laughed again, brighter this time. “I kind of miss the simplicity. And the style here is so different—dark colors, graphic tees. I feel like a cupcake in a room full of Hot Topics.”

Mark’s gaze dropped to her dress for the first time. “Well, I like cupcakes. Especially pink ones. You look… um, really nice.”

She tilted her head. “Like Barbie?”

He winced. “Okay, that sounded better in my head—”

“No, no! I love Barbie.” Your eyes lit up. “She has, like, a thousand careers. What’s not to love?”

Mark chuckled. “Fair enough.”

Before he could say anything else, the teacher called class to order. They shared a textbook since Mark had forgotten his. Anna didn’t mind. She liked the way he kept whispering sarcastic comments during the video about photosynthesis. She had to bite her lip not to laugh out loud.

When class ended, Mark stood up slowly, surprised when you stood next to him.

“What’s your next class?” he asked.

“English, I think? Room 208?”

“No way. Me too.” He smiled. “Guess you’re stuck with me again.”

You blinked. “I’m never this lucky.”

Mark’s eyes widened, and he flushed. “Uh…”

“I mean—just having a friendly face in two classes. That’s all.” You fumbled over your words.

He smiled, heart pounding. “Where in Georgia did you say you were from?”

“Savannah. It’s all old trees and humid summers. And way too many tourists.”

“I’ve only seen it in movies. It sounds nice.”

“Yeah… quieter than here. And nobody wears all black.”

Mark laughed. “So is it a rule where you’re from? Skirts and pastels?”

You giggled. “Not a rule, just… tradition, I guess? It’s how my mom dressed, and her mom. It’s kind of fun, dressing up every day.”

“Well… I think it suits you,” he said, looking genuinely impressed now. “You make it look cool.”

Before you could respond, a tall, broad-shouldered blonde guy swaggered up.

“Grayson,” he sneered, eyeing Mark. “This guy bothering you?” he asked you, full of mock concern.

You blinked. “Do I know you?”

Todd raised an eyebrow. “I’m just wondering what a girl like you’s doing sitting next to him.”

You crossed your arms. “Weren’t you just leaving?”

Todd squinted. “What?”

You tilted your head, voice sweet as honey. “You said you were leaving. Or… was that wishful thinking?”

Todd’s face turned pink. “Uh—whatever.” He turned and walked off, mumbling something under his breath.

Mark stared. “He never leaves without trying to embarrass me. How did you do that?”

Anna smirked. “Gaslighting.”

They both laughed.

“Seriously,” Mark said as they walked down the hall together, “you’re kind of amazing.”

You smiled. “You’re kind of the first person who’s been nice to me today. I think I’m keeping you.”

Mark’s heart did a backflip.

[darling-renyuu]

windblume festival shenanigans ⋆˙⟡♡ (ft. kaeya, diluc, and venti)

during the windblume festival, kaeya spends every available moment of his with you.

perhaps it’s to wordlessly apologize for his “work” taking over his time with you; but even though plenty remains unsaid and plenty of his words are yet to be proven, you sure can’t deny yourself the sweet, and genuine smile he sends your way when he thinks you’re too engrossed in your springtime adventures.

formerly mentioned springtime adventures include picking fresh fruit to mix in a oddly colorful cocktail. kaeya is ever confident in his sweet concoction. it might be different from what he’s used to, but your reaction (whether pleased or utterly mind boggled) is enough to squeeze an amused laugh out of the man.

he walks with you around the city, sneakily taking some flowers from the display to tuck them behind your ear. he reasons that there are loads of them around the city, and that nobody would even notice if some had been plucked by a certain lovesick cavalry captain. all the while, he presses kisses to your face and whispers praises for you into your ear.

you usher him to a bench and start weaving his hair into braids, placing the colorful flowers into his deep blue hair. they stand out beautifully in the dark canvas of his hair, and you take a moment to admire your handiwork. kaeya wonders how you convinced him to keep them throughout your stroll in the city; and if he’s blushing, you might just be hallucinating, aren’t you darling?

later at night, he mixes up a drink just for you two. (he startles himself, about how he just wants to spend years tucked into your welcoming embrace. he hopes, for once, that it stays that way.) you both start a conversation, but it soon fades out in favor of your warm, hands gently untangling his braids. his face is tucked in your shoulder, and your heartbeat echoes in his ears. his cold hands are tucked into the sheets and he presses them to your cheeks. he smiles, although strained, at your surprise.

he presses his cold, shivering form to you, his forehead touching yours. maybe he isn’t just shivering from his cryo vision. at least, you make it just a little better, one windblume festival at a time.

(more below!)

diluc assures you that he doesn't need much, this windblume festival.

yet, he's quite excited about your idea of having a little picnic date. you catch him staring at the cloud-filled sky, passive-aggressively whispering unintelligible things to the wind. (now, you remember that the wind blew a little too strongly that afternoon.)

diluc is quite disappointed that he can't help you with the picnic preparations, because of an urgent meeting with the guild, but you send him off with a sweet kiss and whispers of assurance. the morning after, you both manage to fish out picnic equipment (with the help of adelinde,) and set off to enjoy the spring breeze.

once you're settled on the blanket, you decide to dig in the sandwiches that you both made. diluc angles his head, silently asking for a bite, and you laugh at his adorable antics. you're glad you can let loose, even if it's just for the festival.

diluc seems more relaxed, too. he's put his hair down, and he sets his head in your lap. he's content with your soft thighs beneath his head, and your hands absentmindedly running through his hair. as much as he wants to curl into your touch and sleep, he wants to make the most of this reprieve with you.

he can't take his eyes off you. there's something special about you, and though he can't put a finger on it, he likes it nonetheless. there's a newfound warmth and fondness that grows with every second and every touch. diluc would have never thought that he'd be yearning for someone, but when that someone is you, his starlight, he'd never mind at all. and when you lean down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead, he smiles, content and smitten.

as night falls, you gasp at the starlit sky, and diluc smiles, pleased. you did say that you wanted to see the stars one time. sometimes, diluc loathes the way his sharp memory brings back every painful detail, but at least, he can use it to see you smile.

perhaps diluc's memories are tarnished by his tumultous past, but like a soft wind that gently blows over the clouds, you remind him, everytime, that there are star-like moments he can always look back on and treasure.

venti is thoroughly disappointed at himself. he slept through the morning! what about your plans to see the sunrise? he pouts as you bring him his breakfast. (or lunch. or brunch.)

nonetheless, you suggest you do something different this windblume festival. you can both stay home and make cookies to enjoy with wine, later on. his happy spirit returns, and he's so glad he's got such a genius as his windblume!

he'd cling to you the entire day, enthusiastically mixing your dough while you heat the oven. (he asks you one thing every time you bake; that you can measure the amounts, but he mixes. he loves mixing!) he'd ask you to listen to his newly composed song on his lyre, and his voice wafts through the air like the heavenly scent of the cookies that he'd put his whole heart into mixing.

he'd tell you about the origins of the windblume festival again, somehow adding more embellishments to the story each time he retells it. plus, you know for sure that he's lengthening it this time because he's waiting for the cookies to cool down a bit. (though, with the window open and the breeze pouring in, venti is most likely angling the wind to make the cookies cool faster.)

you smile at the unconcealed glee he has when he takes a bite out of the cookies. looking at him now, his unbraided hair, the lack of his hat, and him dressed in more homely attire; he looks so domestic, and you feel a growing warmth pooling in your chest. he has assured you many times that he's yours after all.

at the end of the day, the house is filled with his happy, slightly drunk giggling. he babbles about how much he loves you, and how much he wants to hug you and kiss you... and every lovely form of affection he can think of. you might brush it off as the wine's influence on him, but the look in his eyes; it says it all.

he truly does love you, and he tries to show you in every little thing he does. archons, he would most definitely dedicate a whole festival to you! extravagant displays of affection beside, he’s discovering the little things that make you smile, and even make you laugh ‘til you wheeze. he wants you to know that he loves seeing you smile, and that his own heart flutters when you look at him with such love.

now that you’re cradling him close to your chest, close to your beating heart, he can sing of a million reasons and more, that he’s lucky to be with you; his one and only windblume.

[genericpuff]

Since you made a post about lore Olympus’ fashion,could you tell us what kind of fashion characters in rekindled usually wear?

For the most part, considering it's a modernized retelling just like LO, I try to focus on the character's personality first and then refine from there.

Currently where Kore is in her character arc, she's very cottage-core in her outfit choices, favoring light springtime colors that compliment her skin tone. She also often wears dresses and skirts both because she thinks they're pretty, and also because it gives her a lot more range of motion, she doesn't like being constricted or too revealing. Even when she wears dresses and skirts that are on the shorter side, she'll still usually be wearing leggings and/or shorts underneath. That said, her fashion choices will change and develop as her character does throughout the story, she has a few different phases that she goes through that start to go outside of her comfort zone, so keep an eye out for that ;)

On the flipside, Hades is often wearing pressed suits and has grown used to wearing the same wardrobe often as, like the rest of his life, he's fallen into a very standardized routine. That said, he also wears his Mortal Realm garb when he's doing his job addressing the mortals, as it's standard protocol to keep all modern amenities away from them (including expensive suits lol) That said, when we see him in more casual settings such as the Olive Branch restaurant, he and his brothers are usually wearing more modern Mediterranean outfits, including colorful button-ups and sandals (though Hades often still sticks to his darker color schemes as it's, again, what he's accustomed to). Like Kore, Hades will also be going through some fashion developments as the story goes on and as he learns to step outside of his own comfort zone. I've got some future suit ideas planned for when the story moves on, I wanna give him some more flair than his default settings from LO 😆 (trust me, that moment when Persephone teased him for wearing nothing but black suits is gonna come back into play eventually LOL)

Artemis and Hermes are both really athletic so their clothing often reflects that, they both like tracksuits and sportswear, though Artemis is seen a few times throughout the series so far wearing Mortal Realm garb because she's someone who's often working in the Mortal Realm.

Hecate is a lot of fun because not only is she a lot more androgynous, but I also get to come up with fun outfits that reflect the witch side of her.

Apollo is a very "slap it on and get on with the day" kinda guy (especially considering he works long shifts with lots of early mornings) so a lot of what he wears are hoodies, t-shirts, cargo shorts, sandals, etc. He doesn't need much to get by and considering he works with Helios, he never really needs to bundle up too much LMAO

Demeter is one of the only gods who's always drawn in Mortal Realm attire as that's where she mainly resides. This largely includes Mycenaean-style garb, such as the chiton and peplos.

I've found this particular site very helpful for providing both inspiration and context to specific outfits where Ancient Greek standards come into play. As for the modern outfits, it's really just about having fun meshing the characters' personalities in with modern fashion styles of Greek fashion. It makes for a lot of outfits that are made up of flowing fabrics with lots of color and movement accessibility.

Just wait until we get to Aphrodite and Ares though. Whooo I have plans for them LOL

[marinawoznjuksworld]

[terracegallery]

Flowers Galore!! On Blue.

Flowers Galore! Bright and beautiful botanical art featuring hand drawn floral by artist Sharon Cummings. This piece was created from a hand sketch. I then collaged painted fabric into the elements for a happy welcoming artwork! Great for nature lovers and garden enthusiasts. Perfect cottage and contemporary furnishings and accents. Whimsical garden art! GET IT HERE!

[aew-kun]

dagger squad and an assigned build a bear thoughts

after I did the thunderbolts ones I decided I wanted to do it with the daggers too . . !

( me and my lovely sibby @agerefandomrambles spoke about these together ) — I've added sum ideas tho since we spoke bout it lol (I got carried away as always)

Baby Blue Teddy Bear OR Disney Winnie the Pooh Eeyore Plush Gift Bundle with Sound - Robert 'Bob' Floyd

Turn that frown upside down with Eeyore! There's nothing gloomy about this fun soft toy gift set featuring the classic Winnie the Pooh character. Eeyore may not be a fan of much, but you'll be a big fan of how cute he sounds with his 6-in-1 phrases included. Hightail it and add this Eeyore plush to your collection!

I couldn't pick just one for Bob - to be honest I think I could have kept picking more 🙏🏻 — HE WOULD HAVE A CINNAMOROLL ONE TOO THAT WAS GIVEN TO HIM BY PHOENIX AND I WILL STAND BY THAT!!! <333

Peter Rabbit™ Plush AND Build-A-Bear Mini Beans Easter Chick - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw

Hop to it and bring home Peter Rabbit™ today! This cute mischief maker has soft brown fur and is ready to explore the garden patch with you. Personalise your Peter Rabbit soft toy with his own outfits and accessories to make him even cuter. / Small in size, big in fun! Build-A-Bear Mini Beans are mini versions of our cutest furry friends. Every Mini Bean plush is stuffed with tiny beans and comes with a special wish on its Birth Certificate. Bring home Sunshine Cuddles Chick as a bright and sunny addition to your collection!

The chick was something he's had for a while from Mav & Ice but he refused to even look at until they'd reconciled — Peter Rabbit wears a Hawaiian shirt

Rainbow Clouds Frog OR Rainbow Bee Soft Toy - Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace

Hop into springtime fun with Rainbow Clouds Frog by your side! This friendly frog plush has soft tie-dye fur that's a delightful swirl of spring colours. Make your Rainbow Clouds Frog soft toy even more colourful by personalising with the sounds, scents, accessories and outfits of your choice! / Rainbow Bee gives hugs sweeter than honey! This colourful bee plush can't wait to buzz its way into your hive of furry friends. Personalise your Rainbow Bee soft toy with its own outfits and accessories to make your plush the bee's knees!

Another one who I couldn't decide on just one stuffie for <333

Highland Cow Soft Toy - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin

Say howdy to a new furry friend with this adorable Highland Cow stuffed animal! Known for their characteristic horns and diverse coloring, this friendly breed of cattle brings a little Southern charm anywhere it goes. Take your Highland Cow stuffed animal with you and explore your world together!

Yes he got a cowboy hat for it, it's a staple accessory!!! :3

Star Wars™ Darth Vader™ Hologram Teddy Bear - Mickey 'Fanboy' Garcia

Bring home the Empire's most fearsome force with this Darth Vader™ Hologram Bear! This plush inspired by the legendary Sith Lord is now available in an all-new edition to celebrate one of the most iconic characters of all time. This Darth Vader teddy bear has sparkly hologram paw pads and comes with his signature helmet, cape and control chest panel built into his black fur. This master of the dark side is the perfect gift for Star Wars™ fans and collectors of all ages!

He's a big star wars fan in my mind 🙌🏻

How to Train Your Dragon Toothless Plush - Reuben 'Payback' Fitch

Ready to fly? Fire up the fun and take off with your very own Toothless plush! With black plush and green eyes, this playful, loyal and intelligent dragon is ready to become your new best friend. Add a saddle to your Toothless plush to get him ready to take to the skies!

Him and Fanboy often get overexcited over their chosen franchises and talk to each other about it !!!

Promise Pets™ French Bulldog Soft Toy - Javy 'Coyote' Machado

French Bulldogs are playful, smart and adaptable. Known for their trademark ears and wrinkly faces, Frenchies are equal parts charming and feisty! Introduce little ones to the fun and responsibility of pet care by adopting their own French Bulldog plush pet! This French Bulldog soft toy can be personalised with its own outfits and accessories to make their Promise Pet their very own.

[breelandwalker]

Happy Turning Day!

This is the movable holiday in my personal calendar when the approach of autumn is celebrated. Turning Day marks the day when reddening maple leaves are first observed prior to the autumn solstice. In my area, this typically happens in early September.

Maple trees tend to be the first trees to display seasonal changes. They blossom in late winter/early spring, their seeds begin to drop in early summer, they often show the first signs of color change in early autumn, and their sap runs in winter the minute the weather starts to turn toward spring thaw. Thus I look to them in my practice as harbingers of change and the cycles of life, growth, and harvest.

Other personal holidays in my calendar include:

First Robin Day - the day on which the first wild robin is seen following the winter solstice, heralding the spring

First Flowers Day - the day on which early blooms are first observed in local gardens before the spring solstice

Planting Day - the day on which I plant my first round of seeds for the year

Dandelion Day - the day on which the first yellow dandelion appears in my yard in springtime, heralding the summer

Falling Flowers - the period during which blossoms from cherry or myrtle trees start to come loose and drift on the wind or collect in piles

Spirit Day - the day on which the local Spirit Halloween opens

First Frost - the day on which frost is first observed on windows ahead of the winter solstice

(Due to climate change and my local climate zone being different from the one I was raised in, seasonal changes are a bit off-kilter and solstices and equinoxes don't always directly align with the type of weather I grew up knowing. So watching for these little signs helps me to celebrate those changes and have something to look forward to.)

Note: This is my UPG (Unshared Personal Gnosis) and thus is not subject to peer review or approval, nor do I expect it to fit perfectly into or account for the beliefs of others. That being said, the creation of personal holidays and observances is a practice as old as humanity and I happily encourage others to try out the idea themselves if they feel so inclined.

(If you’re enjoying my content, please feel free to drop a little something in the tip jar or check out my published works on Amazon or in the Willow Wings Witch Shop. You can also check out my show Hex Positive on the Nerd & Tie Podcast Network and wherever fine podcasts are heard. 😊)

[luvtak]

seasons of love, hhj

✦ pairing hyunjin x reader

✦ genre/tw FLUFF! FLUFF! ONE MORE TIME SAY IT WITH ME! FLUFF!!! hyunjin and mc are very much in love! hyunjin is said to be taller than mc and have bigger hands. lots of kisses and i love yous. suggestive in a couple places. in and out of present and past tense lol. overall very sweet and lovely--hyunjin and mc falling in love through the seasons

✦ w/c 2412

✦ a/n okay so! this is a rewrite of something i posted springtime last year and i hated it lol. this time around i am very proud of hyune and mc and they’re love story and i hope you all love it too!! I've spent months adding scenes and taking them away until I got here <3 please like and reblog, and please please reach out if you have any ideas or questions or just wanna talk!! love you guys forever, mwah!!

He came to you in the Summer, bringing with him music and dancing, and so much laughter you forget how serious falling in love can be.

There is just something about warm weather. It could be the sun shining over your beloved, lighting them up like a god or a king, maybe it’s just that the temperature resembles the touch of your lover’s caress, or that the awakened world is made for romance. It was early July, and everything was blue and sunny; days were filled with jokes and getting to know each other over hot days and cold drinks. Confessions given on front porches and whispered under blue skies—a million firsts bundled up as the heat went away.

He tells you he likes you so quietly, whispering in his sweet little voice, “would you like to go out sometime?” 

The way his tall frame looked against the paint palette sunset would live in your head forever; pretty hair and long legs, the sweetest smile curving up to his crescent moon eyes. Looking back, you wished you had a camera or shared his talent with a paintbrush–just to have that moment set in stone. The smile that made you say yes. 

In the beginning, he was too shy to hold your hand or stand too close. Inching closer and closer until he stood against you–brushing his fingers against yours until his big hands were enveloping your smaller ones. 

 The first time he kissed you, his hands were shaking.

 He was so nervous you could feel the goosebumps rising on his arms, but he asked so sweetly,

“Can I kiss you.” And there was no way you’d ever say no. Not when he stood there in his summer clothes and pink cheeks, not when it was Hyunjin asking. 

He held you straight against him, both hands on your face—the first press of his lips like drinking water, so slow as not to choke then gulping it down. His skin was soft everywhere you touched, and his kiss was happy: full of teeth and giggles and coming up for air.

Getting to know him was like walking into your childhood home, everything about him as familiar as the lines on your palm. Some parts of you are certain you’ve known him before—maybe you were lovers then too, or maybe two trees whose roots were intertwined. In any reality, you can’t see how Hyunjin is supposed to be with you. There is just no other reason why he could know you so well already, no other explanation as to why his body fits around you like it was made to.

Late one night you tell him your theories, and the smile he gave you was so bright and shiny you thought the sun came up. You tell him calmly and earnestly,

 “Hyun, I’m almost certain we’ve already met thousands of times before.” 

August is hot and covered in orange sunsets and long kisses; pink skies the same color as his cheeks when he asks you out again and again. He tells you about his life while you flip through his journals, page after page dedicated to moments he loved and dreams he’s had, and moments yet to come.

The days are long and it’s so easy to care for him, 15 hours of sunlight allowing you to learn all of him and still need more. Sharing secrets under leaves and laughs under covers–it’s too quick to fall in love, too fast for this insatiable longing to rise up in you. But you think you are, you must be, what else could that aching pull in your tummy be? 

The first I love you falls from your lips like the leaves around you. A day spent shopping in the Halloween aisles and holding hands to keep warm. He looks so pretty, dark hair standing out against the grays and oranges of the season, and you love him so much you can’t help but tell him. The words float easy, accompanied by wind bitten skin and a warm gaze.

At first, he hesitates, making sure he’s heard you right, until finally the sun breaks on his face and he speaks.

“I love you too, silly.” He says it like it’s obvious, and it is. He’s been telling you with his eyes and his hands for months, it’s the truest he’s ever felt.

Autumn is spent studying each other, learning how and when to touch—how to make him gasp and sigh. His eyes flutter when you kiss his hip and roll when you bite down; He scratches and pulls, he makes your teeth rattle with his skin. Late nights and early mornings mapping each other, he tells you he loves you and swallows the response, touches the words away.

“I love you; I love you; I love you.” You say over and over again, hoping it sinks into his soul like a second skin.

In mere months, he knows your heart like it’s his own, slotting himself into your life like he’s always been a part of it. Your body has become his home; he’s tied his heart to yours in a double knot. You’re made for him, he’s sure of it—molded from the same clay, split-a parts who’ve found each other.

He tells you things he’s never told anyone before, pressing the secrets against your lips and pulling all of your secrets out of you at the same time. 

He adores you, cherishes you as a person, a friend, a lover. He feels happier than he ever has, and he wants to show you to everyone he knows. When he introduces you to his friends, the smile never leaves his face and his hand stays wound with yours. They welcome you like an old friend, and he feels like both pieces of his heart are melting together. He watches you joke with Felix and be teased by Minho, and he thinks you’re the piece that’s been missing this whole time.

Months have been spent just the two of you, and it’s been perfect–intimate and so warm, but seeing you among his friends changes things. Almost like it wasn’t yet real, and now it is. 

When you go to bed that night, he tells you,

“They love you and I love you.”  and the look you give him is so beautiful, he thinks he should bottle it and save it for later.  

Winter brings an unwelcome guest, a yearning for him that won’t go away—it’s harder to love him when he’s busy, and you wish you could be stronger and less jealous, but you’re only one person. It gets considerably difficult to wash the harsh feelings away when he isn’t there to help you, too many nights spent feeling too far away from him induce an anger you can’t get rid of.

When he arrives late and smelling of alcohol, you can’t seem to swallow the bitterness—why would he be drinking when he could be here with you? 

Hyunjin, never a novice in reading you, picks it up right away. 

One quick comment and then yelling. 

“Are you just tired of me?” It escapes from your tongue like a lash, pricking invisible scars onto every vein. He wishes you would know he misses you too, but how could you when he’s never around, not physically nor emotionally, so you keep screaming. Yelling so loud about things that don’t matter. You hope he knows you’re fighting to stay, not to leave, but the words leaving your mouths are so harsh, you can’t be certain if he remembers he loves you.

If you were in your right mind, you’d know he doesn’t want it this way. Everyday he longs for the heat of summer and the comfort of autumn. If he wasn’t drunk, he could tell you, but instead he says, “I just can’t do this anymore.” Maybe it’s better to let go and find each other next time, next life.

 Recently it’s been too hard, and maybe he’s not strong enough to learn about this part of you, but you are.

You’ve never been afraid to learn his bad parts, sure he’s a dream shaped like a boy, but he’s also whiny and clingy, and sometimes he gives up too fast. Even though it’s hard, and the tears are streaming into the seam of your lips—you gulp down the acidity and tell him you love him.

“It’s never going to get easier, Hyun, you’ll always be busy, and I’ll probably always miss you, but I love you and you said we’re meant to be, and you’re not a liar.” You tell him you’re sorry for yelling, and he says he’s sorry too, and in the morning, he’ll use his hands to apologize and then his mouth and he’ll promise to keep you warm when he can.

Winter is spent learning to love the pieces of each other that are unlikable, to see the invisible boundaries of before and honor them. You remember your theory about the trees with woven roots, and you remind yourself sometimes you’ll have to sacrifice your share of the water to survive, and you hope it’ll be easier when the world reawakens.

Night comes so fast, and it's so cold, but he loves you. It’s been half a year now, and you almost can’t remember where you were this time last year. Were you freezing without him? Or did you only feel the cold now that he’s here? 

All you know is his warmth–pressing into you wherever he can. 

A silent promise for the spring yet to come. 

His birthday arrives with the first of the blooms, the world not yet alive. You wish him happy birthday under warm sheets, whimpering the words in place of presents. He spends the day with the people he loves most and the happiness he feels eases into spring. He tells you it used to be his favorite; and you promise for his day you will bring some of the magic back.

 You help him pick flowers to paint, and read him your favorite stories, you kiss him under cherry blossoms and show him your favorite sunsets. It helps some, but not all—even so, spring with you is prettier than without. He’s sure his skin is brighter because you kiss it, and his paintings are better because they’re of you. He doesn’t know if you believe him, but he means it. His world has become technicolor since you walked into it.

He says it’s just better with you, “I mean it, honey, life is unbelievable when you’re around.”

It’s almost been a year, months spent learning and growing just like the flowers scattered around you. He loves you, so it takes no hesitation when you ask him to move in. He feels like it was already in the midst of happening anyway—his one drawer became a dresser, and his favorite snacks found their way to your cabinets.

Months ago, your heart became his home, and now he gets to live in it every day. Sure, you bicker some: many sighs of “That’s not where that goes, Hyun.” Combined with sweet mutters of “Well, it should go there, sweetheart.” But it’s exhilarating to open his boxes and link his life with yours—mitch-matched mugs in the sink and dirty clothes mixed together.

Your home is filled with dancing and music, laughter and love. His paintings cover the walls, pictures of your days held with magnets on the fridge. His life is now yours and your days belong to each other, and every night he reminds you it’s almost been a year, but how could you forget.

Sometimes, when he puts a dish away wrong, or leaves his clothes on the floor, you question why you invited him in. Even so, you wouldn’t take it back. He’s added so much color into your life, spring personified. A lovely romantic boy who sets your soul on fire. 

The flowers that line the street remind you of him, and the bees who accompany you on your walk sing a quiet song that resembles his sweet nothings.

 Your sweet spring boy, Hyunjin.

 Radiant in every season. 

Somehow, he looks the prettiest in the July heat. Of course, every season you’ve spent with him he’s been beautiful, but there is something about his smile surrounded by clear skies. His cheeks are the same color as the flowers and his kisses as warm as the sun. Something about the season where you first met, encasing him in a beauty befit of a prince. You can’t believe it’s been a year with him, a year getting to know how to love him and feeling his love back.

Looking at him now, he could probably make you do anything which is why when he woke you up at the crack of dawn dragging you out to see the sunrise you couldn’t say no. It was frustrating at first, when all you wanted was a few more hours in bed next to him, but Hyunjin could make you do anything if he smiled down at you.

He’s doing it now, looking so darling in his light sweater and clips in his bed-messed hair, looking past you at the sunrise. You love him like this, and it takes all of you not to tell him, to keep the peace of dawn. 

You’ve loved things before—people, places, things, but never a boy like this.

Hwang Hyunjin is so precious, so dear to you that it hurts sometimes. No one has ever loved you the way he does, his love surrounds you—covers you under a warm blanket of his affection until it radiates into you.

He’s telling you how pretty you are, how you look like the fresh blooms and you’re laughing—which is all he wanted. He only ever wants to make you happy, even if that means being a cheeseball sometimes. Especially if that means waking you up early enough to see the sun come up, and he wants to see that smile again, so he asks,

 “Honey, do you wanna know a secret?”

“Oooo, yes tell me.”

“I love you.” It comes so easy, flows so quickly past his lips like a nightly prayer, like it’s something so objectively true he can’t lie about it, which it is. And your smiles is so wide, laughing at how sweet your boy is, and you say,

“Oh, I already Knew that. I love you too.” And he smiles, grinning at the summer sky.

© LUVTAK