#Decorator pattern explained

[dinosaur-mayonnaise]

While I know logically that Mori Corp. is probably just some standard-financial-shell-investment company, it would be so much funnier if it was just like... a multi-million yen vintage patterned kitchen tile company or something.

[kngrose]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐓 𝐀 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐎 𝐈'𝐌 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐃...

imagine a situationship with sevika

WARNINGS: mentions of cheating, drinking, bi! reader but wlw, eventual smut, modern au

from roselí. ᡣ𐭩 : i have way too many thoughts about this— this will have multiple parts. see part two here. ^^

It wasn’t supposed to happen. You didn’t plan for it. But somewhere along the line, something changed. Your relationship had gotten too… comfortable. At first, the changes were subtle; He wasn’t saying anything outlandish, nothing to make you question your relationship.

But there were small instances, ones where he’d forget plans you made, or when he’d linger on his phone a little longer than usual in your company. You told yourself it was nothing; he might just be a little more stressed than usual– maybe there’s something personal he’s going through.

But as time passed, the pattern became clearer. Conversations that used to flow easily were now strained, almost forced, filled with half-hearted responses. He didn't pick up on the little things anymore; your new manicure or your haircut you had gotten to perfectly frame your face, in hopes that he would notice.

He wouldn’t be as passionate anymore, the fire he once held slowly dimming before your eyes. It was disheartening. The spark that once kept your relationship alive is fading, and you're left with a gnawing feeling of emptiness that you can’t quite explain.

And then there was her.

It wasn’t anything too large, the event. Just a kickback amongst some of your shared friends and some extras they’d invited. You’d tagged along with your boyfriend who’d long forgotten about you, chopping it up with a few of the guys on the couch. You felt a sour twinge in your gut as you sat beside him; this is the most enthusiasm he’s shown in weeks.

You’d noticed her in your solitude; shooting you glances across the room. Similar to you, she hadn’t said much of anything, just idly man-spread on the neighboring couch, red cup held loosely in her hand. You’ve never seen her before… you wonder whose friend she is.

You can't help but return the glances– look at her. Her broad shoulders, her thighs, her hands decorated with rings. The piercings that decorate her face. Those eyes, assessing you as she circles the rim of her cup with an index finger, a little smirk forming on her dark lips.

How could you help it– when she’s just radiating with unspoken confidence? It’s captivating, drawing you in like a deer in headlights. There’s a sharpness in her eyes that unsettles you, and yet, something about it excites you. She’s not like anyone you’ve ever seen.

You realized later that she was just waiting. Waiting for your boyfriend to excuse himself so she could move in. It’ll make you wonder later, how much of this she premeditated. It doesn’t take her long to approach you when he leaves, sliding into the spot next to you curtly, smirking as she meets your eyes. She’s beautiful up close.

She’s looking at you with that calculating gaze, making it clear she’s intrigued. She scans your face up and down, “Like your hair… suits you.”

Her voice was deep, commanding, like she had the power to bend the world to her will. You feel your cheeks warm under her gaze, touching your hair softly. “Thank you.” You manage to retort, embarrassingly glancing away. When you shot your eyes back to hers your breath got caught in your chest, her gaze is unwavering. A chuckle rumbles from her throat, “You’re cute.”

But it's not just the look—it’s the way she speaks to you. It’s amazing how easily she manages to fluster you, it’s effortless. Sevika, you learn that her name is, charms you with her dry humor and college stories, entertaining you the entirety of the night.

She tells you about all of the petty fights she’s been in, and all of her run ins with the police. Some of which are so descriptive you have to wonder if she’s being generous with the details. All the while she’s charming you up, placing a hand on your knee, then to your thigh, drawing small circles. You take note of the way she seems to fixate on your hair, constantly moving it from your face or twisting the strands between her fingers.

The flirtation feels different—darker. Her voice rumbles with a kind of quiet power, and when her hand brushes against yours, it lingers just a little too long. You want to pull away, but instead, you stay. The tension builds, and despite your better judgment, a part of you is drawn to it. To her.

You wish you could go back in time and slap yourself. You knew better than to get yourself alone with this girl, this freakishly charismatic, freakishly, randomly attractive girl. But you let her lead you away to a secluded hallway of the house, her excuse being the music was too loud.

And she continued conversing with you, leaning against the wall and swallowing down the rest of the cup. She huffed out something between a scoff and a laugh, “You a nanny or somethin’?” You shot her a confused look in response. She looked down, nodding her head towards the red cup in your hand. “You’re babysitting.” 

“Oh, this…” You mutter, swirling the drink around plainly. “Not much of a drinker.” You notice the roll of her eyes as she pushes herself off the wall and your breath hitches as she closes in on you. She pulls the cup from your hand, raising a large hand to your chin to tilt your head back. You barely manage to sputter, “What are you doing–!” before she orders you to, “Open,” nudging your chin softly.

You lock eyes with her for the umpteenth time, her eyes filled with something different this time around. You hesitantly part your lips, allowing her to pour the rest of the content into your mouth. There’s a soft groan leaving her mouth as she watches some of it spill from the corner of your lips down your chin.

The way her eyes lingered on your lips made your heart race. You were suddenly aware of how close you were, how her scent filled your senses, how her gaze felt like a slow burn.

You don’t say anything, but you can feel the heat between you both, the pull that’s been growing stronger with each passing second. Before you know it, she’s kissing you—rough and urgent, her hands gripping your hips with a hunger that matches the storm brewing inside you. Her kiss is overwhelming, like a fire that consumes you whole. You melt into it, into her, not thinking about the consequences, not thinking about him.

The moment ends just as quickly as it began, but the aftershocks are impossible to ignore. You stand there, breathless, disoriented, and yet, there’s a part of you that doesn’t regret it. It feels raw, real, and alive in a way you haven’t felt in a long time.

You pull away from Sevika, your chest tight with confusion and shame. But Sevika just watches you, unfazed. There’s no sympathy in her gaze, in fact, all you could register was a sly smirk on her lips. Sevika moves to stand close to you, her presence overwhelming, wrapping a hand around your throat, "What's holding you back?" she mumbles against your lips.

And in that moment, you realize that nothing is holding you back. You’ve already made your choice without even knowing it.

There’s no turning back now.  

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taglist: @opropheticsoul

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fic Idea: A little bit of Home

One day, out of the blue, J'onn J'onzz asks if he could celebrate a Martian holiday. He hadn't before, seeing as the pain of losing his people and his home was too fresh, but he missed the holidays of Mars. He felt that if he didn't try to bring back some of his celebrations, then they, too, would be lost to death.

His teammates were happy to celebrate with him; they were touched by his sharing this part of his culture. J'onn explained that all they had to do was bring a childhood food item to feast on. He explains that on Mars, recipes were passed down for generations, and having the ancestral food of friends and family was the second most crucial part of his holiday.

They are then left stunned when he admits that the feast is traditionally held that same night, but he had been too nervous to mention it beforehand. He allows them to change their minds, but no one dares to.

Heroes pour out of the Watch Tower, racing home to begin cooking, and the Martian is told that as soon as they have something, they will return in time for the meal.

No one mentions the tears gathering on the smiling Martian's face. Nor do they say that his humanoid form falls away to his proper form, a rare occasion to witness.

J'onn then starts decorating the Watch Tower as the Justice League members work on what they will each bring.

He places a lot of shimmering rocks in patterns on the ground. They weave and curl through the hallways as members are careful with no stepping on them. He then has Batman help him find different minerals that change the color of sand used in gorgeous art portraits of each member. (The man was more than capable of sending him information while helping Alfred bake cookies)

It took a bit of flying around the world, but he was able to return to the tower a few hours later with all-natural colored sand. (Thank goodness for the teleportation technology Bruce installed)

By then, a few heroes had returned, each carrying a food or drink container.

Those he forms in the cafeteria where the feast will be held. A crowd of heroes stands around, oohing and ahhing, as J'onn uses his telekinesis to move the sands and create all of them simultaneously, putting on a show.

He is singing hauntingly beautiful songs while hanging colorful drapes around the walls in the last few hours leading up to the feast. No one could understand the words, but everyone agreed that J'onn had an incredible voice.

Clark, arriving with three Kent apple pies, smiles. "He sang that at my house on Christmas Day."

J'onn informed everyone that the event would be formal wear- and everyone showed up dressed to the nines. Heroes who still hid their secret identity- like Batman- had arrived in their costumes, but they had added bowties or some other little accessories to make it formal.

Seeing Nightwing fix the tophat on Batman's head while Red Hood was dressed in a lovely suit, forgoing his usual helmet for a red half mask, was..... enlightening.

A few drinks were served while people walked around admiring the sand painting that J'onn had made. He depicted not only the heroes but also multiple parts of the world, then a section of their best missions, and finally, paintings of good memories they had all shared.

It was like a walkable photoalbum.

Spirits were high as members enjoyed themselves, smiling at the memories and chatting with friends in the few peaceful times of their crazy lives. No one could hold in the gasp when J'onn finished getting ready and arrived at the party. He had painted himself in different shades of blue, beaming in pride at the praise for his cultural markings.

He asked everyone to sit, standing to pray in his native tongue. A few heroes bowed their heads, and others merely sat comfortably, waiting for the Martian to finish.

He picked up his cup, raising it high in the air with his hand

"Friends," J'onn started, voicing, choked up with emotion. "I thank you all for joining me today. It means the world to me that you come here to celebrate the King's Feast. May Phantom watch over you all and freeze all your enemies!"

His cup floats out of his hand, turning to the side so the water can fall out and take the shape of a strange D. J'onn bowes his head, crossing his arms and muttering more prayers.

John Constantine, who had been attempting to sneak bites from the steak and kidney he brought, drops his fork. He stares in absolute shock at the flouting water symbol above the martian before Zatanna slaps him on the shoulder. "Don't be rude!"

He points one shaking finger at the Martian, turning to her with a pale face. "The Martians worship King Phantom!?"

She blinks. "Who's that?"

John moves his jaw, but no words leave his mouth as J'onn finishes his last prayer. He then holds up a plate proudly, explaining what it is and why he chose it to share. He encourages every hero to do the same, so voices fill the air one by one as they present their offering and the memory attached to it.

No one pays much mind to the blond British man desperately drawing wards on the ground using his green-colored chalk. When asked what her husband was doing, Zatanna shrugs helplessly.

Likewise, no one notices some of the plates mysteriously lose some of their contents. The food appears on Earth in the room of a very excited Halfa, who feeds on the foods and the emotions weaved into the meals.

J'onn later claims that this Great One Day felt like King Phantom was slightly closer than usual.

[cjgladback]

[ID: A version of the four panel Gru meme from Despicable Me, where a presenter gets increasingly enthusiastic through three slides before realizing something is wrong with the third. A cartoon bee with orange fins on its back and sides stands in place of Gru. The slides are presented on what appears to be a small stack of papers held with a single purse clip.

Slide 1: Countdown to Fishbees!!! About a day of focused work left on the dinos! Slide 2: Almost a third of the way through the cactus and scorpion animation! Slide 3: Excited about a new planned intermediary project!

In the third panel of the meme, the fish-bee's eye highlights are sparkle-shaped. In the fourth and final panel, its highlights are teardrop-shaped. The third slide gains an extra line of text in a smaller font that says, "studying macramé!" End ID]

[konigsfavgirl]

꒰ Adorable König Habits & Routines Outside the Military — as promised my pookies :3 ꒱

Early Bird Energy: König wakes up ridiculously early, even on days off. He tries to stay quiet, but he still ends up making tea, pacing the apartment, or doing light stretches—his huge frame moving around while you’re still dead asleep.

Overgrown Houseplant Dad: He has a weirdly soft spot for houseplants. He waters them with too much care, occasionally talks to them “You’re growing well, ja? Keep it up.” and panics if a leaf turns yellow.

Notebook Hoarder: He owns way too many notebooks, some filled with tactical notes, some with random doodles, and some… just empty because he likes having them. Don't let me mention the silly patterns for notebooks he owns.

Clumsy Giant Moments: For someone so skilled in the field, König is shockingly clumsy at home. He constantly bumps into doorframes, accidentally knocks things over with his elbows, and hits his head on hanging lights. Later he tries to explain why your favorite decoration is fixed with glue magically.

Candle Enthusiast: He secretly loves scented candles. If you ever mention liking a particular scent, you will find a new candle of that scent appearing in the apartment. He would insist lighting one if you two are having a movie night — it spikes up the atmosphere

Protective Blanket Tucking: If you fall asleep on the couch, König has to tuck you in properly. He carefully drapes a blanket over you, making sure you're warm. If you shift even slightly, he freezes, afraid he woke you.

Big Spoon 90% of the Time: Even if you start off cuddling face-to-face, König will unconsciously pull you against his chest in his sleep, wrapping himself around you like a human weighted blanket. Gentle

Alarm Clock (For You, Not Him): Since you’re not a morning person, he wakes you up in the softest ways possible — rubbing your back, whispering to you, or placing little kisses on your forehead until you stir.

Absolutely Awkward with PDA: König wants to be affectionate in public, but he’s so tall and intimidating that he overthinks it. He’ll lightly brush his fingers against yours instead of holding your hand—unless you grab his first. Then he melts.

Buys You Snacks Without Asking: If he notices you like a certain snack, you’ll always find it in the kitchen. He never asks, he just stocks up on it like some silent provider instinct kicks in.

Waits for You to Get Home Like a Loyal Dog: If you come home late, König is either waiting by the door or lying on the couch, pretending he wasn’t waiting for you. Expect the long cuddling session if you were away for too long.

Secretly Loves When You Play With His Hair: If you ever tug on his hood and ruffle his hair, he groans dramatically, but he never stops you. If you start braiding it? He’s suffering but lets you do it anyway.

Terrible at Saying No to You: You want to steal his hoodie? Done. You want him to cook something random at midnight? Fine. If you give him the right look, he just sighs and does whatever you ask.

[bloodstainedsapphic]

marigold crush

gardener ellie!au. what you thought would kick off a petty neighborhood feud ends up turning into something a whole lot hotter than the summer sun above. the reason? it starts with ellie, the cute employee at the garden center—who knows a thing or two about getting her hands dirty. thank you to my @meganegatari for providing input and proofing as always <3

wc 3.1k minors dni - making out, dirty talk, fingering (r!receiving)

with summer rapidly creeping up, you set your sights on a new project—upgrading your gardening skills. it sounded simple enough at first. plant a few things, water them, watch them grow. oh, how wrong you were. you realized, much too late, how surprisingly demanding it all was. soil types, lawn maintenance, what plants thrived where, which ones were perennials, how to keep them alive with proper care like watering, pruning, and mulching. before long, you were making an embarrassing number of trips to the nearby garden center.

not that it had anything to do with the pretty employee who was always ready with a new tip just when you needed one.

miss ellie—as per her name tag—carried herself professionally, politely enough. always eager to explain answers, she sometimes skipped over beginners’ tricks, then circled back to catch you up. everything she suggested, though, ended up helping immensely. you liked that. she was sweet.

you told yourself it was a coincidence, how often your visits lined up with her shift. you weren’t memorizing her schedule—god, no. you just… noticed a pattern. for advice purposes. obviously. she had the best advice.

while the trial and error of gardening took up most of your time, another thorn lodged itself in your side—this one not literal. your newish neighbor had apparently taken up the same hobby, and, enragingly, their results far outshone yours. how was everything so lively? why were their perennials already blooming? their yard looked freshly trimmed and popping with color every single day. yours, a work in progress, wilted a little more every time you glanced at the progress next door. you couldn’t help but sulk from time to time. it was starting to feel personal.

a part of you really wanted to give your neighbor a piece of your mind. in your opinion, there was absolutely no way they weren’t doing this on purpose. ever since they moved in just under a year ago, it had been the same infuriating pattern—everything you did, they somehow managed to do ten times better. halloween decorations, holiday lights, even their progressive political flags had wittier slogans than yours. and the worst part? you’d never even seen them. not once. this silent gardening supremacy—that you weren’t even sure they knew was a competition—was the final straw. how they pulled it off while staying completely out of sight was beyond you.

granted, your competitive streak might’ve been clouding your better judgment, and you were, admittedly, acting a little unhinged—but you had to know their secret. you had to meet them, to understand the method behind the madness of their picture-perfect flower beds.

so, in a move wholly unlike you, you got up early one sunny morning and baked cookies. warm from the oven, stacked neatly in a sewing tin—just a friendly, xenial gesture. no ulterior motives. none at all.

you step out your front door, ready to march up their porch and put an end to the mystery once and for all—only to freeze in place.

imagine the shock when there, in the garden next door, kneeling in the dirt with gloved hands and a quiet hum under her breath, was the very same ginger woman who had been giving you advice all summer.

ellie.

suddenly, it felt really personal.

she must have witnessed you struggling in your yard at least a dozen times by now. the tips. the encouragement. her uncanny ability to know exactly what should go where. the conveniently timed suggestions that always hit just right. and not once had she mentioned she lived next door?

diabolical, honestly. ellie was gradually unfurling under the strain of the heat and her work, of course. her white tank top, drenched in sweat, clung to her like a second skin. she tugged at the fabric to fan herself off. her flushed, freckled skin glistened under the early morning rays, and her auburn hair was plastered to the back of her neck. your gaze shifted to her arms—tense, fit, and tattooed—then to her hands skillfully handling the tools.

“you’ve gotta be kidding me,” you huffed, louder than intended, managing to reach her ears. 

ellie looked up, shielding her eyes from the sun. and then—she grinned. of course she grinned, like she hadn’t just upended your entire understanding of reality. like you weren’t standing there, tin of cookies in hand, suddenly feeling ridiculous, and very underprepared for whatever this was.

“well, hey there, neighbor.” she greets you far too warm, too chipper. 

you stared at her. “you live next door?”

“mm-hmm,” she said, standing up slowly to stretch out her legs and dusting her earth-covered hands off on her thighs. “for, like, ten months now. give or take.”

you glance down at the sewing box of cookies in your hand. despite ellie’s state—sweating, smudged with dirt—you hold it out for her.

“a welcome gift,” you offer. “just… ten months late. give or take.”

ellie breaths a laugh and takes the box, peeking inside, nodding in approval.

“damn. look at you. thanks,” she mutters, setting it down on a nearby plastic chair cluttered with gardening tools. your eyes flicker between your sad little yard and her perfectly maintained one.

“did… did you know? all this time? when i came in to ask questions?”

“yep,” ellie says, totally unfazed, hands settling on her hips. “it was kinda cute, watching you take my advice and, y’know… try it out.” she pauses, then adds to soften the blow, “i thought about coming over a few times. offering a hand. but you looked so determined, hacking away at weeds, replanting flowers i suggested, i didn’t want to interrupt...” she trailed off. 

you blinked, trying to recalibrate. “that’s okay, i just… wow.”

ellie notices your stupor and an idea comes to mind. “well. since you’re already here—i was about to head to the shed. wanna stick around? i could show you a few things. if you’re cool with that.” then, teasing, “no charge. this time. cookies count though.”

you find yourself trailing after her into the backyard—just as immaculate as the front—to a small shed tucked in the far corner of the lot. it doesn’t look like much from the outside, but inside, it’s packed chock-full with every gardening item you could imagine, from seed packets, terracotta pots, and shelves lined with tools. half of them, you didn’t even recognize, which only made the sting of your amateurity more potent. 

thankfully, ellie’s easygoing explanations help ease the mood. she’s showing off her tools, fertilizers, and offering tips, and you’re taken aback by seeing her in this new light. she was always cute, which is why you’d kept timing your visits to the garden center a little too well. but this? watching her work in the summer heat, flushed and confident, completely in her element—it ignited something new in you. here you were, ready to start a petty squabble with your new neighbor, but instead, your stomach was full of butterflies. ellie added a few well-loved, indiscernible tools to a bag, slung it over her freckled shoulder, and ushered you outside before closing the shed door behind her.

“alright, so. show me the damage,” she said, jerking her chin toward your yard.

“my what?” “your flower bed,” she called over her shoulder, already walking ahead. “gotta check if you actually listened to me.” before you can say anything, ellie’s already knee-deep in your garden, pulling up the weeds you missed and fixing the patches where your mulch is spread too thin. you’re not sure what hits harder—the embarrassment from the sheer number of mistakes she’s quietly correcting, or the way her initiative turns you on.

your role is mainly reduced to handing her tools and keeping her hydrated. water swiftly proves to be necessary as ellie worked diligently, showing off her mastery, the early morning sun rises to a brighter, more oppressive, sweltering heat. you try stepping in to help a few times, but the firm swats from ellie’s palm—quick, pointed, and slightly amused—make it clear she’s not about to let you much of the heavy lifting.

still, she doesn’t treat you like a helpless maiden. eventually, she has you kneeling beside her, guiding your hands, her calloused fingers splayed atop of your own, instructing you through the same techniques she’s spent the season explaining in passing. her voice is low, sure, and steady beside you, her skin warm where it brushes yours under the sun. 

she starts with the marigolds, helping you replant them first—their vibrant yellows and oranges thriving in this full-sun corner. from there, it’s onto the petunias, where she fusses over spacing, then the dusty miller and the salvia. her encouragement is doing the opposite of helping. you try to stay focused, to press the soil like she showed you, but your thoughts keep drifting to the feel of her hand on yours.

"no—don’t just pat it down like that, you need to press a little firmer with the trowel. yeah, like this." she shifts closer, her hand curling over yours, both of you bent low over the bed of marigolds. you can feel her breath at your temple, her voice gone a little quieter, more raspy now. "there you go. knew you had it in you."

her sheer determination shouldn’t affect you the way it does, but damn. the moment your thoughts start lingering on the idea of licking the brine off her neck, you know you desperately need to cool off—literally and figuratively. it only gets worse when her hand holds the small of your back for half a moment too long, steadying you as you dug further into the soil. the simple touch sent a shiver through you, making your pulse race. it wasn’t just the heat anymore. did she know what she was doing? there was no way ellie wasn’t this self-aware. given she had let you try and fail at this garden all summer, she was probably more aware of her actions than you could easily wrap your brain around.

the rest of the adjustments come together quickly after that, both of you worn out and damp with sweat, but working in sync. at long last, ellie straightens up with a groan, wiping her glossy brow, appraising your now vastly-improved flower bed with lazy pride. “muchhhh better,” her eyes glint with approval, tossing the trowel practically molded to her hand aside. then she stretches, slow and unbothered, muscled arms rising overhead until they’re drawn taut, her off-white tank lifting just enough to entice your most lewd thoughts into wanting to see more. then she runs a hand through her damp, disheveled auburnette hair, leaving it even more a mess. “may i ask the lady for a drink? and a chance to wash up a bit?” your yes is obvious. you leave your tools just as they are on the ground and motion for ellie to follow you inside. of course she needs a rest, probably dying of thirst—though you’re probably the thirstier one in that moment.

the space is filled with the sound of the rush of crisp water and the clink of glasses as you both scrub dirt off and pour drinks. ellie mutters a soft thanks, taking hers after drying her hands on a dish towel.

she looks hot here. out of place, certainly—sun-streaked and a perspiry mess in your nearly spotless kitchen. but it only makes you want the cute gardener turned hot nuisance of a neighbor-turned... whatever this is... even more.

you swallow your nerves, chasing them with another sip of water.

“you know, i always thought you were cute,” you tease, eyes flicking to hers. “ever since you helped me pick out my first supplies.” you reflect like you’re feeling nostalgic, though you’re definitely up to something.

“yeah?” ellie quirks a brow. she’s smart, knowing exactly what you’re doing. the cute, tentative girl from the garden shop was gone- this was someone confident in every move. her voice dips low, eyes narrowing with a flirtsome gleam. “you still think i’m just cute now?”

“well,” you murmur, voice low, a little shaky, trying to match her coy pitch, “i wouldn’t say just cute.”

she tilts her head, flashing a zealous, lopsided grin. “i’ve got a lot more i could show you. with my hands. can i?”

when she then takes a step closer—your heart seizes.

was this really happening? were you about to get fucked into next week by the cute gardener turned next-door neighbor? your mind races a million miles a minute, the whole scenario unraveling like a scene straight from fanfiction.

well, you were right! just like that, ellie closes the space between you, her hand sliding around your waist as she nudges you back against the cool, angular side of the kitchen island.

the marble presses against your lower back, forcing a half-giggle, half-stunned, shaky exhale from your lungs. you realize you’re probably not hiding the gleeful expression on your face as well as you thought, especially given the cheesy grin the hot dork returns.

her roughened hands trail along your jawline, the juxtaposition of her tough-feeling skin with the most gentle gesture makes you feel woozy. “you know,” she murmurs, voice low and almost amused, “i thought about you a lot. the clueless girl always showing up on my shift, asking the kinda questions you knew i’d love answering.”

your face warms, and ellie clicks her tongue, clearly satisfied. “and here's the thing. i didn’t mind. kinda liked knowing you’d come find me.” she pauses, smirking as a vexing fire ignites behind her eyes. then she adds, “figured you’d eventually need help with the yard. saw you out there, all hot and frustrated trying to figure it out on your own. guess i was right, huh?”

the reminiscent teasing is cut short when her lips connect with your own, tossing the last of your inhibitions aside and letting blind instinct take over. all nerves melt, and your mind goes blank as her teeth catch your bottom lip and tug. you grab at her waist, hands sliding up to her ribcage — one curling into a fistful of her auburn hair, the other slipping beneath her dirtied tank top to caress the warm skin at her side.

time ceases to matter. all you feel is her hands, fervid and searching, and her hot, wet mouth moving against yours — heaven. the soft, immodest moans she lets slip only pull you deeper in. ellie traces your lips with her tongue, coaxing them open, chasing breathless sounds from you. the kiss is messy, to say the least. your front teeth collide with hers, noses bumping, spit dribbling down both your chins— it was clear she wanted you just as much as you wanted her. the waiting paid off. 

but, you feel a pause, and then loss of contact.“fuck i—” ellie huffs. she's breathless, her voice scratchy with need. the voracity at which she pulls away, breaking the fragile strands of spit that webbed across your mouths— it concerns you. 

you open your mouth to inquire, but she cuts you off by grabbing your hips with her muscled hands, and fleetly turns you around so you're facing away from her, and are bent over the counter. its hard surface is chill to the touch- your only reprieve from the heat between you two. 

your mind practically short-circuits. even though she isn't too forceful, the motion still makes you yelp. you want this, no— you crave it, and ellie’s animalistic side takes over, leaning over you with her front pressed flush against your back, one hand perfecting the arch of your back and then finding purchase at your waist. she starts shamelessly sucking purpled marks into the side of your neck and rutting her pelvis against the swell of your ass. pushing your hair further to the side, she bites down on your skin and soothes with her tongue, the acts sending goosebumps all over you.

you were completely at her mercy, no thoughts occupying your head other than everything about her: her voice, her touch— you couldn't get enough.  “ellie,” you moan her name, and she damn near purrs into your ear. you brace yourself against the cool surface, clinging onto it for respite, grounding yourself to keep steady as your legs grow weak. 

her right hand is pawing all over you, stopping to fondle your clothed breast, then snaking down your stomach and into your pants. hooking your panties aside, ellie lets out an unholy sigh at how wet you already are. 

her greedy fingers graze your slit, then begin steadily circling your clit as you mewl. ellie groans like she can feel it herself. her voice breaks, but she mutters against the nape of your neck, “fuck, damn baby. all this f'me?”

you weren't going to last, all the build up was about to bubble over momentarily. but you had to try, because it was all too good to end so soon.

descending further, she pushes her two middle digits inside your eager, sopping hole, curling as she fucked into you, your body gradually rising like a crescendo to a dizzying peak. “come on, cum for me,” ellie encourages, her free hand reaching out and landing on top of yours to share in your pleasure as your orgasm washes over you. she soothes you with a placid squeeze, a silent reminder she's got you. the pressure in your lower abdomen builds, until one last thrust sends you spilling ecstasy all over her fingers. she helps you ride it out, lightly rubbing your twitching clit and mumbling praises all the while. as your body shudders, ellie’s rutting against your ass slows, mirroring your panting and humming some encouragement.

upon coming down from the buzz, you rest your forehead on the counter's surface, trembling whimpers leaving your fucked-out form. the fingers just inside you meet ellie’s lips, tasting you on her like you’re something ambrosial, already addicted to your essence. her hands then run over your form in calming passes as you fully return to reality. “you know…” after some comfortable silence she starts, voice smug, “this could’ve happened a lot sooner—if you’d just said something instead of memorizing my whole damn work schedule.”

“oh, shut up,” you manage, still catching your breath, but content nonetheless.

ellie grins, brushing her thumb along your cheek. “what? i mean it. you're sweeter than anything i’ve ever grown.”

[talesofesther]

ten reasons not to kiss her

➥ Ch one: The first reason

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader/fem!OC

Series Summary: Natasha slowly adapts to a life by your side, all the while thinking of all the reasons why she shouldn't kiss you.

A/N: This story is a labour of love. I have loved Natasha for longer than I can remember, and this story is that love written down. If you ever wondered what Natasha would be like as a partner, this story will show you. <3 At first, this was going to be a very long one-shot, but I decided that it looks and works much better divided into chapters. The chapters won't be huge, but the updates will also not take long to come out. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing; let me know your thoughts.

Masterlist

It had been a strange decision from the start.

Natasha did not need an apartment; she could live in a million-dollar tower if she wanted to.

She rented an apartment anyway. It was a small thing, only a couple of blocks away from Stark's tower. Sometimes, free will still felt like a foreign concept. Natasha wanted to break the cycle; she wanted a thing of her own, a home to go back to that was solely hers. And maybe that concept was even more foreign, but she was content.

The time she spent in her apartment didn't have a schedule or pattern. Work kept her away for several days at a time. Good work, clean work—Natasha would tell herself over and over each time she put on her black suit. If she stole files for SHIELD, if she took people's lives, it was for a good cause. She was going clean; she was washing away the red on her ledger.

Natasha told herself over and over. A mantra, muttered under her breath. Maybe if she said it enough times, she'd believe it.

On free days, she went back to her apartment. The decoration was still bare and dull; cream colored walls had no art or portraits on them, there was a single grey couch in front of a flat screen tv, a small kitchen with only the necessary amount of cutlery for one person, and thin curtains that did nothing to keep sunlight away and flowed easily with the wind.

But Natasha liked it. She had bought a small potted plant on a whim; the little thing had its place on her windowsill, and a rush of giddy pride filled Natasha when she noticed a new green leaf had grown after a few days of close care. It was peaceful, it was quiet. Natasha never had anything of her own. This? It belonged to her.

It didn't take too long for Natasha to meet you, then. When she rented the apartment, Natasha forgot to consider that she'd have neighbors.

She was about to step into the only elevator of the building. You, were rushing out of it.

Natasha had quick reflexes; she took hold of both your arms before you could crash into her and undoubtedly spill the coffee inside the to-go cup you were holding.

You gasped in surprise, looking at Natasha with widened eyes. And she frowned, more at herself than at you; because Natasha immediately noticed how beautiful your eyes were, even under the crappy blinking light of the hallway.

"Oh, I'm so sorry." You were quick to say. You had a burgundy scarf around your neck, which matched the pink of your cheeks. Maybe it was colder outside.

One of your hands grasped at the fabric of Natasha's black bomber jacket, around her forearm—out of reflex, no doubt—but Natasha was a little too aware of your touch. She averted her gaze, focusing on the open doors of the elevator behind you.

She shook her head dismissively. "No problem."

"You're my new neighbor."

When Natasha looked at you again, her brow raised with curiosity. She noticed that the smile on your lips was as soft as your voice. Natasha should not be looking at your lips.

"I had noticed the door next to mine was vacant. And then it wasn't." You explained further with a shrug when the redhead, still holding onto your arms, kept silent. Your eyes carefully followed the curls of her red hair. "Welcome."

Natasha held your stare for a second longer. She could only nod. She hurried inside the elevator and away from you faster than she meant to.

There was a kindness to you. Each time you and Natasha happened upon each other again—in the elevator, when you'd be arriving home at night and Natasha was just leaving, sometimes in the street just before going inside the apartment building—you always greeted her with a smile and a small wave, even on the days when she'd give you nothing more than a nod of acknowledgement.

In just a couple of weeks, you became a peculiar variable in Natasha's life, something she wasn't used to. She hadn't accounted on meeting someone like you. Someone as sweet as you.

At first, Natasha avoided you like the plague. At the same time, she secretly always hoped you'd find her, anyway.

And you did, because when Natasha walked into the cozy coffee shop across the street from the building, the face that greeted her at the counter was yours. There was a barely there falter on her steps, a fleeting moment of hesitation where Natasha considered choosing another place to buy coffee. But the poorly contained excitement shining bright in your eyes as soon as you noticed Natasha opening the door kept her hostage.

The place was very inviting, with brick walls, order suggestions written with chalk on blackboards, plush red seats that were too carefully crafted to be from this decade, and a grunge melody coming from a vintage jukebox in the corner.

Natasha reached the counter, gripping the edge with her hands. A beat or two passed, and she pretended to look at the coffee suggestions written to your right.

You waited until she was ready. You were kind like that.

When the redhead chanced a glance at you, that soft smile of yours that Natasha had already memorized the shape of was back; "What can I get you?"

She raised a brow, deciding on a challenge. "Why don't you surprise me?" Natasha's voice was velvety, her smirk tantalizing.

And you did, when you attuned with her quickly. You tapped your pen against your lips once, twice; smile not wavering. You wrote something down in your notepad. "It would be my pleasure."

Natasha chose to sit in a booth by the nearest window, which had a clear view of both the door and the counter.

You brought the coffee to her yourself. A Macchiato, along with a plate holding two chocolate cookies. You placed it in front of her with a quiet "Enjoy" falling past your lips.

Natasha drank the coffee and had to hold back a groan of satisfaction. She took a second sip and glanced up towards the counter in the same heartbeat. You caught her staring, but she caught you staring back. Your eyes had already been on her.

Natasha fought a smile when she watched the way your bashful eyes avoided hers, and a smile of your own framed your pink cheeks and crinkled the sides of your eyes.

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. Natasha had trouble looking away from you. She realized, with sudden shortness of breath, that she too became softer in your presence.

This sort of love was not allowed for someone like her. You were both too soft, and the world around you was all knives and chipped teeth. Natasha knew it well. And she should not be looking at your lips. This was the first reason why.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Next chapter

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[rayroseu]

DRACONIANS WE HAVE BEEN BLESSED BY QUEEN MALEFICIA 😭😭‼️‼️‼️✨🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 MALLEUS CRUMBSSSS HOOOOORAYYYYY ✨✨✨✨💖💖💖💞💞💞💖💞💖💞💖💞💖💞💖💞💖💞

Thank you Koono Sumire-sensei(the manga artist) for believing in the "Malleus chubby cheeks" agenda 🙏🏻🙏🏻✨💖💞💖 eternally grateful how round than usual his faces are here,,, he's so cute 😭💞(usually Malleus' faces are drawn like he's Sebastian (rough and very masculine lol) ilysm artist who draws Malleus like a cutiepie 😔🙏🏻💖💚💚)

in my world, Yuuta already eats ramen with Malleus at this point lol THAT is a very healthy and beautiful dragon 💚💚💚💖💖

ALSOO

IM SENSING A PATTERN.... thank you MalleYuu for inventing height difference with your partner trope ✨✨🙏🏻🙏🏻‼️‼️🥺🥺🥺

ALSO this makes me squeal, the Yuu's really look like at Malleus like he's an interesting specimen🤣🤣🤣 LIKE DO YOU SEE HOW SCRUTINIZED YUUKA WAS WITH HIM AOHDKHAKJDKA THEM YUUS KNOWS NO FEAR 😭😭😭‼️‼️

source

edit:

ALSO there really was GARGOYLES AT RAMSHACKLE!!! 😭😭😭 I'VE ALWAYS BEEN CURIOUS HOW THEY LOOK LIKE but we never got a view of it until now(?) bcs Ramshackle s pictures are usually not that detailed or the mansion is so far away lol

Yuu's scrimblo gargoyle who protected us all this time so that the roof wouldn't crumble even if theres ceiling leaks....🙏🏻🙏🏻✨✨💞 THANKS TSUNOTARO‼️‼️✨✨✨

and now this makes me sad, he's at this dialogue where he's explaining that gargoyles are scary and modelled after monsters but they're also useful and protects infrastructures KNOWING BOOK 7,,,, NSKDNKSD 💔💔💔💔

on another thought, i appreciate the writing of Malleus interpretating gargoyles like this,,, its like so emotionally empathetic 😭 which is in contrast to the interpretation that he's selfish and unable to connect with feelings lol I guess he really only emphatize something when it has a relation to him?

I love that Ramshackle gargoyles looks like a dragon with no wings, its like the Eastern dragon decorations from Diasomnia's Halloween 😭💚✨ no wonder Malleus is attached to Ramshackle lol maybe he has preference over dragon gargoyles lol

[revelboo]

I absolutely love your writing! Scratches my brain just right! How do you think they would react to tattoos? I'm pretty much covered and just curious about your thoughts!

Tattoo Reaction Scenarios

Various Transformers x Reader

IDW Starscream

• Skimming his lips against your neck, Starscream feels you shiver when his denta graze you. Optics devouring as he lazily maps you out with his mouth and servos. Lingering on the colorful designs inked on your soft skin. “I like these decorations.”

• “They’re tattoos.” Sprawled on your belly beside him, you feel his servos tracing along your shoulder and lingering there. “Do you guys do anything like this?” Inhaling as he finds the one on your hip with gentle touches.

• “Decorating our armor plating is fairly common,” he replies, moving your hair aside to trace over your neck. He’d never bothered with the practice, liking himself the way he is, but he likes the art decorating your skin. “Some change their color schemes regularly.”

• Rolling onto your back, his optics heat as he looms over you. “You could write out your name for me in Cybertronian characters and I could get it tattooed somewhere,” you tease, tugging at his wrist so you can lay his servos against your collar bone. “Maybe here.” Pulling his down to your inner thigh, you grin as his expression becomes possessive. “Or here.”

IDW Sunstreaker

• Ignoring the twins doing their own things, you turn your back to them and pull your sweater off over your head, stripping down to a tank top. Because for once, it’s not freezing cold. Or maybe, you’re running a fever. Sitting crosslegged to fold the sweater, you don’t even realize Sunstreaker has moved until a big servo touches your shoulder nearly scaring you to death. Something that big shouldn’t be that quiet when he wants to be. Reaching back, you swat him. “Don’t sneak up on me.”

• Ignoring your annoyance, his optics trail over your shoulders and upper back. Studying the colorful designs winding over your skin that you’d kept hidden. You’d made yourself a canvas, so why hide it? “Different artists,” he murmurs, servo tracing a pattern on your bicep.

• There’s no judgment in his tone, just curiosity and it eases the tension bracketing your spine. Reaching, you touch one. “Yeah, I designed this one,” you say, chin lifting. “This one a friend sketched out.” You wonder what he thinks of them, unwilling to explain their meanings to him just yet. Some of them still hurt you if you dwell on them like the script on the inside of your wrist with a signature painstakingly copied.

• Fascinated, he explores each one. Wondering what they mean, the stories behind them. Also knowing from the way your jaw is set, that you’re not ready entrust them to him just yet. Venting softly, he turns over his wrist, servos tracing a scar marring his otherwise pristine paint. Not art, but a mark with a story and your eyes study it and then lift to his optics. “A story for a story?” He offers and you smile slightly.

IDW Bluestreak

• “Needles?” He ask, his tone so dismayed you almost laugh as his servos hover over your skin. Not touching you, because he’s always so conscious of your personal space. Afraid of upsetting you or crossing a boundary he’s not allowed. “Didn’t that hurt?”

• “It gets easier every time,” you say, catching his big servo in your hands and pulling. And finally he cautiously touches your arm and the scrolling tattoo there. “I kind of look forward to that little bite of pain now.” Door wings lifting slightly at that, he can understand all too well needing pain to ground yourself. You’re like him, then. Carrying around something you keep hidden inside.

TF Earthspark Megatron

• “Gladiators painted themselves before battle. To inspire themselves and to instill fear in their opponents,” he murmurs as he gestures at the ink peeking out at your collar. He’d worn such paint in the pits, remembers striding out under those blinding lights as the bloodthirsty crowd looked down and screamed his name. Fans that would still cheer whether or not he survived his next battle. “They usually weren’t permanent marks, though.”

• He sounds so melancholy as you reach to touch his servos, bridging the distance between you both and surprising him. “If you ever want to talk about it?” Smiling ruefully, he gently traces your cheek with a servo. And you know it’s a no. Or at least a not yet. Laying your palm against his lingering servo, you begin to speak. Explaining your tattoos and showing them to him. Reaching out even if he’s not ready to share with you just yet.

TFP Ratchet

• “Another one?” He growls, spotting that shiny stuff taped to the inside of your wrist. Knowing you’ve gone and had another human embed ink under your skin again even though he can’t understand why. The designs are pretty enough, but he’d done some research and he knows it’s a painful process. So why harm yourself for art?

• Rolling your eyes, you ghost your fingertips over the dressing covering your tattoo. Still too new and sore, but you wonder what he’ll think of it when he realizes you had tattooed his cross with the Autobot insignia inside it on yourself. Most likely, he’ll just gape at you and get flustered. But you’d wanted to wear his badge, wanted something permanent of him to carry for the rest of your life.

[fangirlmermaid]

Making Memories of Us

Pairing: Husband!Luke Hughes x Wife!reader

Summary: Some Luke and Starfish bonding while you nap sessions

Warning: Pregnant, Country Music, Luke disturbing your nap time, lightly proofread, punctuation, and grammar mistakes.

Note: I keep thinking up ideas for this "storyline."

Also, if you actually like country music, just pretend you don't when you read this! Thanks!

Part one and part two

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

Luke came home after being forced to run baby shower errands with Mo. You offered to go with Mo instead, but Luke wanted you to stay home where he knows you’re safe. Plus, you being in Mo’s passenger seat always made his heart sink.

To this day, Luke wonders how the hell Mo got her license? 

After Luke placed the decorations in Starfish’s bedroom(which was already filled with furniture boxes), he entered the living room and found you sleeping peacefully on the couch. Luke’s heart swelled; words couldn’t describe his love for you, especially now that you were carrying his child. 

Luke softly brushed hair away from your face before gently kissing your forehead as if you were made of glass. Even though you were in a deep sleep, you still leaned into Luke’s touch, causing Luke’s smile to widen.

When he pulled away, he noticed your headphones were placed on your bump. He raised an eyebrow, “What the hell is she doing to you, Starfish?” Luke mumbled, kneeling in front of your six-month bump. Luke grabbed your phone off the floor and saw that you were playing the nursery rhyme playlist you put together.

You told him that he would have to wait until Starfish was older before Luke could introduce him to Country music, which Luke was fine with. But then he thought, well, what if his kid doesn’t like Country music? He knows it’s silly, but since you showed him the positive pregnancy test, Luke has always envisioned his kid sitting in their car seat, babbling along to the music, kicking their legs with glee.

So Luke might’ve disconnected the Bluetooth headphones from your phone and connected them to his phone. “Don’t worry, Starfish. Daddy is going to show you real music,” Luke promised, his thumb drawing lazy patterns on your bump. Starfish was stretching as if Luke just woke them up, “easy, baby. Easy,” Luke softly warned his kid when he noticed the look of discomfort on your sleeping face.

Luke played his playlist, as the first Starfish didn’t move, which he thought was his worst fear, was true. Then his racing heart slowed down back to its original pace when Starfish started to move, Luke smiled at your bump, “That’s right, Starfish. This is what Daddy listens to. Do you like it?” Luke’s smile widened. Finally, someone in this family with taste, Luke thought, you weren’t the biggest fan of country music.

Starfish started to kick, which made Luke happy but also worried because he didn’t want to wake you up. His finger lightly drew a heart on your bump, hoping it would calm Starfish down, but it didn’t.

“What are you doing?” Your voice rasped. Your eyes were still closed, but Luke could feel your glaring eyes. Luke quickly paused his music. “Nothing!” he blurted out. " Mmhm, liar,” you chuckled, shifting your position to be more comfortable.

Luke grabbed your wrist and pressed sweet kisses against the palm of your hand. His guilty eyes shifted towards his lap. “I was just playing music for Starfish,” Luke explained. You sighed, rubbing sleep out of your eyes. “Please don’t tell me you were torturing poor Starfish with country music,” sighed with a smile, Luke looked up at you as if you just betrayed him, “torturing?! Country music?!” Luke gasped, clutching his imaginary pearls.

He pressed the play button for his playlist, and your jaw dropped when you felt Starfish moving around. You looked down at your bump. “Starfish, no!” You groaned, your hands covering your face as you couldn’t look at what was happening. You could feel Luke's smug smile. You feel Luke rub your bump. “Starfish, wait until I introduce you to all of Daddy’s favorites. This is awesome!” Luke released a heartfelt laugh. You shook your head, “I can’t believe my kid, THE ONE I’M CARRYING! Is a fan of country!” you whined, yet did not attempt to rip the headphones off.

“I don’t think you hate it. I think you secretly like it.” Luke gave you a teasing smirk, you raised an eyebrow, “Oh really?” you tried to hide your smile. Luke nodded, “Then what if I?...” You trailed off, grabbing the headband part and slowly pulling it off your bump. Luke’s eyes widened. “NO!” Luke yelled, his calloused hands tugged your hand off the headphones, and tangled your hand into his curls. You tried to act mad, but a small smile crept its way onto your face.   

Luke pursed his bottom lip and gave you his best puppy eyes. “Can they keep listening to it, Angel? I-I promise it’ll be PG,” Luke begged, rubbing your bump, hoping you would say yes. He would stop if you said no, he loves, and respects his wife. You tapped your chin, pretending to think about it. “How can I say no to a face like that?” You smiled, rolling your eyes at your husband's adorable face. “That’s why I use it,” Luke grinned before pressing a sweet, heartfelt kiss onto your lips. You hummed into the kiss, feeling your heart skip a beat.

You really love your growing family.

[cherie-doll]

COD men with a witchy girlfriend that also dresses like Stevie Nicks? Like I have random tarot decks or crystals that appear. I tend to attract crows, cats, and snakes mostly. Herbs, jars, bones, etc all around the house.

i love her style sm <3

𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: You're Their Witchy Girlfriend

☽〇☾ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

Price

He knew how much you loved wearing flowy, comfortable clothes, it was just so convenient and nice to wear in any weather! You couldn't go out without your shawl, in cool weather it was useful to cover yourself with, and it was useful when the glaring sun was out in summer to provide some shade

When interacting with an animal, he found it endearing when you would greet it as if it were another person, many times they followed you too, and he would sigh when he'd find a new animal sitting on the window sill watching him

For some reason, he thought you were trying not to be a burden to him when you only went to thrift stores to buy your clothes, until you explained to him it was easier to find vintage stuff there, not only for your clothes but also for decorating your home

Picking out gifts for you is easy, you love anything given with love because you care more about the intentions/symbolism rather than the price of the item, but he also takes his time in choosing what to give you

Ghost

You like making some of your own clothing, simple stuff like adding some extra flair to your blouses or skirts, you even repair them too, and you've taught Simon to sew as well, it's comical to see a large man like him sitting down on a nice, sunny afternoon in the living room with the window open letting the breeze in and holding a needle so small between his big fingers

And you fondly gaze at him as you watch him sew, turns out he can patch up your clothes better than you do!

You couldn't have asked for a better boyfriend, so you always ask for his protection every day he goes out, or every time he has to go on a mission because he's the best thing that's happened to you and you can't imagine losing the one person who understands you best

You're sort of into amulets and other things that can grant protection to a person, Simon used to not believe in them but after seeing how good life can feel when you're with a person who shows you the beauty in life, he doesn't mind standing still as you stitch a protection sigil into his jacket

Soap

He thought he was hitting on a whimsigoth chick when he saw you out in the street walking with your bell sleeved top and patterned maxi skirt, he asked for your number and you surprisingly gave him yours, soon he found himself sitting next to you at a park on a date

You always carried a tote bag where ever you went, it always made a lot of noise when you walked, sounded like rocks in there or something, and when you would in reach into your bag when he was trying to pay for something he'd stop you and assure you he'd never let you pay, except you weren't planning on paying

You just have a bag of crystals in there and your tarot cards you like bringing along, never know when someone is going to need a reading, right?

He remembers the first time he came over to your place and it matched with your vibe, dried flowers/plants tied and hanging to the wall, leather-bound books on wooden bookshelves with glass bottles and even more, larger crystals

He noticed you took a liking to anything relating to the moon or sun, so he actually bought you a matching couples moon and sun bracelet, he let you pick which one you wanted

Gaz

He's always interested in what you're into, asks questions and isn't afraid in partaking in any small "rituals" you do, mostly habits really that you have, like petting every black cat you see or leaving something shiny for crows to take

There was a time crows started following him because of the things he'd leave out for them that he got scared and ran all the way home and hid until you came back, you explained that they likely just recognized him as the person who gave them food and other things

One of your favorite things to do is trying to foretell the future, you look for signs in every day life, or even just trusting your intuition when you get a certain feeling, you and Kyle will sit on the steps of your porch and observe the sky, there's a murder of crows that like to perch on a tree in the backyard

There's always a different number of them, not always the same amount, but you've heard that counting crows is a way of foretelling the future, today you counted three just as Kyle was feeling for that small box containing a ring in his pocket :)

Roach

I like to think he also loves to collect animals :), he enjoys coming along with you and foraging deep into the woods near riverbanks helping you look for skeletons and any other bones, secretly it's because he likes finding small animals like lizards or cicadas

He loves the idea that when you place an animal skull on a pile of items their spirit will protect that specific stack, he imagines that each animal bone/skull around the house has their items that they like to protect and hang near

You two love visiting the local park on weekends and taking romantic walks together, during these talks some animals might follow you

He remembers when he took you on a date out and every cat you passed would meow and come up to you, he just assumed you were really good with cats, until it started happening with crows and even snakes

Now your little companions make you both smile fondly seeing them come to greet you, you even let a cat follow you back home and couldn't bear to leave the poor thing outside in the cold :(, of course you'd bring it in! They now have their own little cushion to sleep on and get spoiled <3

Alejandro

It's literally in his blood to be into the macabre, most of his traditions revolve around that anyways, so it was no surprise that he gets along with you perfectly

He loves the herbs you have around the house because it reminds him of the elderly ladies that he used to see when he was a kid, he remembered most people avoided them, but others frequently visited them, he always viewed them as powerful and full of wisdom and knowledge

He'll listen to whatever subject interests you the most, you often talk to yourself and if he so happens to walk into a room while you're dusting the shelves or placing a new crystal and you're having a conversation with yourself, he'll just walk by like it's nothing, he knows you tend to do that

You like to grown your own herbs and plants so you won't always have to go out and buy more because now you'll never run out, it used to be Alejandro who was sent on these errands lol

Some people still talk bad about you sometimes, saying you make them feel uncomfortable, but little do they know, you leave a lemon out whenever they come by to "absorb their negative energy" and when they leave.. the lemon is brown.. how strange, something about them must be off

Alejandro was never afraid nor put off by you, you're the most alluring person he's ever seen and from the very moment he met you he had been attracted

Rudy

You've always had an air of elegance and mystery around you, people were afraid to wrong you but couldn't figure out what was so unsettling about you, contrary to that you were quite friendly to those who built up the confidence to get to know you

Rodolfo was the one to discover this and he's the one who frequently experiences your sweet side since he's your boyfriend, you'd actually be pretty lost without him! You tend to misplace your cards, crystals and other things and he's the one who patiently reminds you where to look

He helps you especially when you're in the kitchen, you like to make your kitchen space a nice and cozy area where you can be yourself, mostly focusing on herbs, you love tea and can't go a day without it! Rodolfo even learned how to make your favorite and every morning he gets up before you do to prepare it, so by the time you wake up there's a warm cup of tea by your bedside <3

You and him love cooking together, but you often misplace the notebook with all your recipes and other thoughts you write in them, sometimes he'll find the notebook but if he doesn't you have to turn to the recipes you've written in your notes app on your phone

Not all witchy people can afford or manage to keep glass bottles in their homes if they're clumsy, so you've turned to recycling plastic bottles and buying durable tupperware to store dried herbs or potions, Rodolfo helps you write what they're for in sharpie and organize them on shelves

Phillip Graves

The first time he noticed you, you were doing a tarot reading for another Shadow, he himself got curious and asked for one, you looked him straight in the eye and said "these cards mean we should go out on a date" (they did not mean that at all)

He was eager to learn more about you, he regarded your behavior not as strange but as... whimsical and it was honestly refreshing for him, you smiled at children and pets/animals, you believed those little pure souls needed all the positivity they could get before the negativity of this world got to them

You couldn't have asked for a more supportive boyfriend than Phillip, he remembers all your little quirks and habits and tries to imitate him best he can, heck he even incorporates some of them into his daily life!

Whenever he takes you on vacation he KNOWS he must stop at a shop that sells crystals or incense knowing how much you love that, you go insane in there and he has no limits knowing how happy it makes you, just stands, waiting next to the cashier smiling fondly as he sighs, ready to pull out his card whenever you're done picking out what you want

Makarov

You'd think he couldn't care less but you're WRONG, he loves bothering you all the time knowing you've got good intuition and thinks you know what everything means, assumes you can interpret his dreams, "I had a dream what does it mean?" "I'm not Joseph the fu-"

As time has gone by, he's gotten to know you better, instead of bouquets of fresh flowers, he started gifting you dried flowers which you love a lot more because you can keep them for wayyy longer, you keep it on display around your home and it brings you lots of happiness when you look at them

He also buys you a vase for every time he gifts you a bouquet, preferably ones that match your aesthetic, even though you're thankful for anything that he gets you, it's even sweeter when he pays attention to these things because it shows he truly cares

When building your new house, he came to you asking how you wanted the interior to look like, told you not to hold back and you did not hold back at all, he fully trusted the decisions you were making and the final product had a dark cottagecore vibe to it during the night but spring-like fairy vibe during the day

You can fully incorporate your desired vibes and express yourself as you wish because he's there to make it possible <3

Keegan

He used to always be the kind of guy to never really bother or pay much attention to certain things, but you were all about the small details, not obsessing but noticing, he wanted to be like that, he saw how much joy it brought you in your interactions with nature and small, inanimate things

You would talk to anything, not just yourself because it were as if you were conversing with someone, he asked you once why you did it and you replied that it's a habit that you developed as a child, which is common, but never "grew" out of it, you were sure someone listened even if you thought you were alone

He walks into your room to stare at the stacks of cards, crystals, potion bottles, an alarming amount of bones you found when foraging in the woods, etc..

Speaking of bones, you always take a bag when going on hikes, you'll be walking with Keegan hand in hand and suddenly he doesn't feel you beside him anymore, you've veered off the path to dig up a bone you saw sticking out of the dirt, and if you're lucky to find a whole deer decomposing you get overexcited and take the big container you made Keegan load up in his truck

Of course, you ask the deer or animal for permission to harvest their bones before taking them, Keegan can only stand there and watch, slightly concerned for you, but you'll make him help you clean the bones when you get home

König

He's never delved much into the same things you have but he tries his best to comply and make you happy, you love crafting, almost everything in your home is handmade by you, you believe the effort you put into those things benefit you and your home, providing positive energy

There's certain herbs you can never run out of: rosemary, sage, lavender, etc.. you try to grow your own but let's say you don't have much luck with plants, you've tried everything and you can't figure out what you're doing wrong, you decide to tell König and to your surprise he says to let him handle it

Those herbs are growing nicely and quite healthy when you decide to test him, who knew he could be so good with them, you let him take care of the rest of your plants while you focus on the more "dirty" work which is the process of cleaning your bones, you have to bury them to let the bugs eat the flesh and then dig the bones back up later to check up on them until you can clean them yourself

You also love buying and hanging tapestries up, preferably those with mushrooms on them, but you have a hard time because unlike someone you aren't super tall and pulling up a chair with a wobbly leg isn't the safest option... König rushes over just in time to help you down and instead you sit back and tell him where to put the tapestry up

And when he's done? You got four more you want to hang up in other rooms, but he's willing to do anything for you

Horangi

God, he just loves loves LOVES your style, on some days it can range from long and flowy maxi dresses that are comfortable and perfect for simple chores around the house or it can be bell bottoms with a shirt tied in the front

Despite how often he scolds you for this but you like walking barefoot around the house, in your backyard too when the weather is warm and you want some sun or even if it's raining and you want to enjoy the rain, he's afraid you'll catch a cold or step on something that'll cut your skin

When on bookstore dates, you're always drawn to the book section that features books about spells, or related to witchcraft, anything that can be useful information for your home

Often, when a tough decision comes your way you like playing with a pendulum, you often stay up late at night, letting your thoughts just run rampant within your mind as that pendulum swings and you sit in a pensive state, sometimes it can even help you if you're feeling anxious because just watching it swing back and forth helps to get your mind away from negative thoughts

Nikto

He never outright asked nor assumed if you were a witch, I mean, you resembled one.. but if asked he could never place a finger on it, he didn't care either

Never really paid much mind to what you were up to most of the time, barely even questioned you when you'd stay up late at night or get overly excited when it was the full moon, he noticed you always marked the lunar cycle on your calendar, you kept up with it regularly, also didn't say much about that either

You love burning candles and other herbs to keep your home clean, he likes coming home to the smell as he's grown accustomed to it, feels it as welcoming even and always thinks of you if he detects it elsewhere

You love being out in nature like him, you two love veering off into the woods and making your own paths to explore, you do it to connect with nature as you deeply resonate with it, he observes you and it's almost like seeing you be in your true element, always brings a flashlight or a lantern knowing that not even the sun going down will keep you from playing in the woods at night

You say that as long as you're respecting the wildlife, you have nothing to fear

[uwmspeccoll]

Decorative Sunday

We've made several posts about paste papers, but never one that explains the complete process and technique. This small accordion book (4"x4"; 10x10 cm), Making Paste Papers by noted American paper artist Diane Maurer (b, 1944), made at her home studio in Spring Mills, Pennsylvania with original paste-paper samples in 1992 signed by the artist, does just that. It offers simple, step-by-step instructions on how to make paste papers from mixing the paste to finishing the paper.

Maurer is noted for a variety of paper arts, but she writes, "Although I am known for my books and decorative papers, my focus for many years has been on creating paper collage. I begin my collages by marbling, paste painting, and dyeing paper to create the colors and textures that are essential to my artwork. Then I tear, cut and combine multiple layers of patterned papers with handmade papers to represent surrealistic landscapes and fanciful seascapes. Most have considerable dimension, approaching paper sculpture."

Recently, Maurer was invited to become part of the MET's Paper Legacy Project for which she handcrafted 40 papers, including traditional marbling, Japanese Suminagashi marbling, and paste papers.

Our copy of this book is another donation from the estate of our late friend Dennis Bayuzick.

View more of our posts on paste papers.

View more posts on decorative papers.

View more Decorative Sunday posts.

[22ayla21]

Nooooo I just read the third child part and🥺 that was so cuteeee and smdjaknaksnsk I was wondering how the chirldren spend time with their mom?

Mom and Kids

How the wives of the men of Amphoreus spend time with their children

She introduces the children to books by telling them stories before bed. Even if the children are already asleep, she continues to whisper the last lines so that their dreams are filled with adventures.

She also teaches them to weave wreaths, embroider patterns in the style of Kremnos, and cook traditional dishes. The eldest son especially carefully watches her hands, trying to imitate every movement.

The middle daughter always wins at hide-and-seek, because she has inherited her father's cunning, and the youngest does not consider it a competition at all, simply choosing a comfortable place where she can quietly read a book.

Although she does not require the children to be warriors, she teaches them to use weapons for self-defense. The eldest son is more inclined to tactics, and the middle one - to combat, which inevitably leads to friendly sparring between them.

She loves to take the children to the shore, where they splash in the waves, build sand castles and decorate them with shells. Mydei sometimes joins in, just to make sure no one gets too carried away.

On quiet evenings by the fireplace, she holds her youngest daughter on her lap while the older children cuddle up to her, sharing their worries. Sometimes Mydei himself joins them at such moments, surrounding the family with the warmth of his strong arms.

She teaches the children that strength does not always solve everything, and it is important to be able to negotiate. This is especially important for the middle daughter, who sometimes forgets that you can’t just “knock out” a problem.

Teaches the children to take care of living creatures, be it a wounded bird or a homeless puppy. Sometimes this leads to Mydei coming home and seeing a new “zoo” under the roof of their house.

Usually, her mornings begin with the children climbing into bed with her, settling down next to her, and Mydei, seeing this, just smirks and collapses next to her, turning everything into a heap of warm hugs.

Every morning she woke the children with soft words and kisses, and then ate breakfast with them, enjoying their chatter. Even if Anaxa sometimes frowned at the noise, she only laughed and said that these were "the sounds of family happiness."

She helped the children with their studies (at least what she understood, leaving the most difficult ones to her husband), but never pressured them. If her daughters were engaged in tactics and strategy, she encouraged them, finding time to explain something with examples from life. And she taught her youngest son that not everything can be solved by the mind - sometimes you just need to be kind.

Every evening she told the children fairy tales, sometimes about her adventures in her youth. The daughters were more interested in stories about bravery and battles, and the son loved stories about friendship and kindness.

Despite Anaxa's strictness, she did not forbid the children to be naughty. They would have impromptu fights, hide-and-seek, and sometimes even try to hide from Anaxa to see how quickly he would find them.

She often took the children for walks, showing them the beauty of Amphoraeus's nature. The daughters tried to analyze everything, like their father, but the son simply enjoyed the moment, and she was glad for that.

Sometimes they cooked together. The daughters learned precision, and the youngest son simply enjoyed the process, licking the spoons. As a result, the kitchen was in disarray, but the atmosphere was warm.

When one of the children was upset, she always found a way to support them. She knew that the daughters appreciated sensible advice, and sometimes a hug from his mother was enough for the son to feel better.

When Anaxa was free, she always found a way to include him in their family moments. Although he sometimes grumbled, even the children knew that their dad was just pretending not to like spending time with them.

She tries to give her children not only physical development, but also intellectual development. She likes to read them books before bed, tell them myths and stories about great warriors, but also teaches them tactics, diplomacy and wisdom.

She often takes them outside the city so that they can feel free and explore the world around them. She can teach them to collect medicinal herbs, navigate by the stars or tell them about the animals that live in their area.

Despite her seriousness, she knows how to be cheerful. She can let the children braid her hair in chaotic pigtails or play hide and seek. Sometimes, if they ask, she even plays along with them in role-playing games, portraying a scary monster or a noble hero.

Although Phainon is mainly involved in this, she does not stand aside. She shows her sons the basics of swordplay, teaches them to remain cool and discipline, but she does it more gently than their father, so that they do not perceive training as a harsh duty.

Unlike Phainon, who expresses love through actions, she gives her children a lot of physical affection. She can hug them, kiss them on the top of the head, lay them down next to her if they have a nightmare. It is important to her that they feel her love not only in words, but also in touch.

She is the first one her sons run to if they have problems or doubts. She knows how to listen to them without judging them, and give advice that helps them find the right solution, and not just tell them what to do.

She carefully preserves the culture of her people and instills it in her children, telling them about her roots, old customs and holidays. Sometimes she cooks dishes from her homeland, sometimes she arranges small rituals that remind her of home.

She sees each child as an individual and never compares them. If one son loves battles, and another prefers tactics or art, she will support them in any choice, knowing that their happiness is the most important thing.

When a long-awaited girl finally appears in the family, she gladly passes on to her the female traditions of her people. Although Phainon dotes on the little girl, her mother remains her first mentor in the world of tenderness and strength.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Gun Park x Reader: It starts with a plant

G/N. Fluff. Gun's home is cold and sparse. Masterlists

"Take this," you grin, holding out the small plant towards Gun. "It's for you."

He frowns, wondering why he would ever want that and makes no move to take it.

You thrust the plant closer, "Here."

"I don't want it."

Rolling your eyes, you place it down on his coffee table. "You need to look after it."

"I don't."

"It's a gift from me."

'I don't want it' is on the tip of his tongue again but the look on your face stops him short. Gun decides on saying thanks instead.

"Try not to kill it."

.

.

You had commented that his house is kind of a dump one morning, and Gun had countered that you didn't mind last night.

Not that he was particularly offended by that comment, he did live in the middle of a junkyard after all - let's not pretend there's anything glamorous about that.

His furniture was sparse, decor non-existent though hints of luxury still peeked out here and there.

It was just so... cold, though. A bit like the man himself, you suppose.

.

.

It starts with a plant.

You aren't trying to impose, or make your mark on Gun's home or anything of the sort. But then the salesperson spots you eyeing up this particular long-leafy plant (for your own home actually) and starts explaining how it's virtually indestructible, can put up with a lot of neglect, a lack of sunlight and still thrive-

Well.

It's just that plants liven up a place, don't they? A bit of healthy greenery is always pleasant to look at, and it's good for the air quality as well, something to consider when living amongst mounds of rusting old metal.

What's the harm in giving this to Gun?

.

.

Gun, to his own credit, actually listens to your parting words.

"Try not to kill it."

There's so much blood on his hands, and that has been so easy, that trying to keep something alive should be far harder.

Gun looking after a plant goes much better than anyone would expect. He is nothing if not meticulous with his methods.

Each time you visited him, which used to be a once-in-a-blue-moon middle of the night sloppy visit and eventually turned into weekly sleepovers, you noticed the plant steadily getting greener and more lush until one day-

"I think it needs a bigger pot."

.

.

Next was the blanket.

You buy it thinking about how warm and fluffy it is, how it has the cutest pattern and you get cold sitting with him on his threadbare sofa in that shack.

You did not buy it thinking about how out of place it would look in Gun's home.

Gun keeps his face carefully neutral when you unveil the monstrosity and drape it on the sofa. He refrains from commenting, refrains from looking at it at all and plans to burn it as soon as he can.

Then he sees you snuggling in it, a happy sigh leaving your lips, looking all snug and practically glowing.

He's not actually heartless, okay. At least not when it comes to you.

Maybe he can just stuff it in a dark corner somewhere when you're not around.

.

.

The candles are completely unnecessary though Gun will admit that they smell quite nice.

A couple of rugs also invades his home at some point, as well as a welcome mat for the front door.

"People aren't welcome here."

Giving him a side eye, you tell him it's just a name.

The wall 'art' Gun did put his foot down and refused. You come back with framed pictures of the both of you instead and- Gun sighs and concedes, fine.

.

.

Gun liked his house exactly how it was - blank and minimal.

The new decor and furnishing you got didn't really add to his quality of life but he keeps every item. Each time he looks at something, something that is vastly out of place in his previous bare home, it reminds him of you.

The plant continues to thrive, along with the few more that you gifted him and the blanket never moves from the sofa.

.

.

"Here," Gun says, handing you a toothbrush to keep neatly next to his. Along with your own dedicated closet space, and free rein to replace his furniture and decorate as you see fit.

"Stay." He says. For tonight, tomorrow, forever.

You can't keep the smile off your face. "Really?"

He nods, because this feels right. His house has been feeling less like his, and more like ours and to his surprise, like home more than ever.

[blueiscoool]

Exceptional Sixth-Century Sword Unearthed in Anglo-Saxon Cemetery in the UK

Archaeologists have uncovered a spectacular sixth-century sword from an Anglo-Saxon cemetery near Canterbury, Kent, in a discovery hailed as one of the most remarkable of its kind. The weapon, distinguished by its exceptional preservation and craftsmanship, is being compared to the famous Sutton Hoo sword found in Suffolk in 1939.

The newly unearthed sword features a silver-and-gilt hilt with intricate decorative patterns and a blade inscribed with runic script. Even the leather-and-wood scabbard, lined with beaver fur, has survived the passage of time. A ring attached to the pommel may symbolize an oath to a king or high-ranking figure, reflecting the weapon’s elite status.

Lead archaeologist Professor Duncan Sayer of the University of Central Lancashire expressed awe at the find. “It’s really incredible, in the top echelons of swords, an elite object in every way. It rivals the swords from Dover and Sutton Hoo,” he said. The Sutton Hoo sword, crafted with gold and cloisonné garnets, is considered a pinnacle of Anglo-Saxon craftsmanship, but this recent discovery stands out for its remarkable condition.

Sutton Hoo Sword.

The cemetery, whose exact location remains undisclosed to protect the site, has so far revealed 12 graves, though researchers estimate it contains up to 200 burials. Male graves have yielded weapons such as spears and shields, while female burials include brooches, buckles, and knives. Notably, the grave containing the sword also held a gold pendant engraved with a serpent or dragon—a type of ornament typically associated with high-status women. Archaeologists suggest it may have been an heirloom or a gift from a female relative.

Other artifacts at the site hint at connections to regions beyond Britain. Scandinavian objects were found in a fifth-century woman’s grave, while items of Frankish origin appear in later burials. These findings illuminate the migration patterns and cultural exchanges following the Roman withdrawal from Britain in the early fifth century.

The excavation has also provided rare insights into Anglo-Saxon funerary customs. Conservator Dana Goodburn-Brown discovered fly pupae on the sword, suggesting the deceased’s body was left exposed for a time before burial, likely to allow loved ones to pay their respects. “So we’re learning something about the funerary practices,” she explained in the upcoming BBC Two series Digging for Britain.

The sword and other artifacts are undergoing conservation and will eventually be displayed at the Folkestone Museum. Prof Alice Roberts, presenter of Digging for Britain, described the site as “an extraordinary Anglo-Saxon cemetery with incredibly furnished graves… The sword is just astonishing.”

By Dario Radley.

[artifacts-and-arthropods]

Four-Cornered Hats from Peru and Bolivia, c.600-800 CE: these colorful, finely-woven hats are at least 1,200 years old, and they were crafted from camelid fur

Above: four-cornered hats made by the Wari Empire of Peru (top) and the Tiwanaku culture of Bolivia (bottom) during the 7th-9th centuries CE

Often referred to as "four-cornered hats," caps of this style were widely produced by the ancient Wari and Tiwanaku cultures, located in what is now Peru, Bolivia, and Chile.

According to the Metropolitan Museum of Art:

Finely woven, brightly colored hats, customarily featuring a square crown, four sides, and four pointed tips, are most frequently associated with two ancient cultures of the Andes: the Wari and the Tiwanaku. The Wari Empire dominated the south-central highlands and the west coastal regions of what is now Peru from 500–1000 A.D. The Tiwanaku occupied the altiplano (high plain) directly south of Wari-populated areas around the same time, including territory now part of the modern country of Bolivia.

Above: pair of four-cornered hats made by the Wari people of Peru, c.600-900 CE

Both cultures used the hair of local camelids (i.e. llamas, alpacas, or vicuñas) to produce their hats. The hair was harvested, crafted into yarn, and treated with colorful dyes, and the finished yarn was then woven and/or knotted into caps and other textiles. Four-cornered hats from both cultures were often decorated with similar stylistic elements, including geometric patterns (particularly diamonds, crosses, and stepped triangles) and depictions of zoomorphic figures such as birds, lizards, and llamas with wings.

Above: four-cornered hats made by the Tiwanaku people of Bolivia, c.600-900 CE

The two cultures used different techniques to construct/assemble their hats, however:

Although they shared certain technological traditions, such as complex tapestry weaving and knotting techniques, the Wari and the Tiwanaku utilized significantly different construction methods to create four-cornered hats. Wari artists typically fashioned the top and corner peaks as separate parts and later assembled them together. Tiwanaku artists generally knotted from the top down, starting with the top and four peaks, to create a single piece.

Above: a four-cornered hat from Bolivia or Peru, made by either the Tiwanaku or Wari culture, c.500-900 CE

There is evidence to suggest that four-cornered hats were often worn as part of daily life, as this publication explains:

Many have indelible marks of hard usage: wear along the edges and folds, a crusting of hair oil on the inside, remnants of broken chin ties, and ancient mends.

Above: a pair of hats made by the Wari culture of Peru, c.600-800 CE

Above: more hats from the Wari culture of Peru, c.700-900 CE, with colorful tassels decorating the four peaks of each cap

The oldest known/surviving examples of the Andean four-cornered hat date back to nearly 1,700 years ago. They began to appear along the northern coast of Chile at some point during the 4th century CE; these early hats had an elongated design with four short peaks, and they are typically associated with the Tiwanaku culture.

Above: this early example of a four-cornered hat was created by the Tiwanaku culture between 300-700 CE

Why indigenous artifacts should be returned to indigenous cultures.

Sources & More Info:

Metropolitan Museum of Art: Four-Cornered Hats 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, and 12

Museum Publication: Andean Four-Cornered Hats (PDF available here)

Emory University: Four-Cornered Pile Hat

Metropolitan Museum of Art: Andean Textiles