#Founded in 1824 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

halsteadlover · 10 months

Text

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐳𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐬?

*Gifs not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female!Reader.

• Requested: no.

• Summary: you and Hotch have occasional rendezvous but each time you promise it’ll be the last even if neither of you seems to be able to stop.

• Warnings: smut, unprotected sex (don’t be like them you guys wrap it if you want to use it!!!), cursing, dirty talk, oral sex m. receiving, basically porn with no plot lol

• Word count: 1824.

• A/N: PLEASE READ THIS ONLY IF YOU’RE 18+ MINORS STAY AWAY. I hope you like this, let me know what you think. Comment, reblog and like if you want and as always thank you so much for your support.

“Oh fuck Hotch you feel so good…-” you moaned loudly as you kept riding him on his chair. Your shaking thighs burned, your aching knees pressing against on his chair as his dick thrusted deeper and deeper inside you.

His hands were gripping your hips as he accompanied your movements, grunting and trying to remain silent while his fingers pressed against your skin so hard they left marks on it.

He let go of your hip and covered your mouth when another groan escaped your lips, making your moans become just muffled sighs. “Shut up, you don't want them to hear us do you?”.

You shook your head, biting into his palm as you placed your hands on the arms of his chair for support while letting yourself get rocked by the immense pleasure he was giving you.

It was a mistake.

You knew it was.

But God what a beautiful mistake.

You couldn't help it.

Since the day you and Hotch ended up in bed one night after a case and a few drinks, you didn’t stop having these rendezvous, neither of you could help it. Every time you promised yourselves it’d be the last, but it was enough to find yourselves close, or your eyes to meet during the discussion of a case, or for some reason his hand to casually caress yours to break this promise.

You were just like a drug for each other. From that first dose you had that night, you could no longer go without that feeling of euphoria and pure ecstasy the sex gave you.

Aaron Hotchner was the most sinful thought that crossed your mind, the forbidden thing you always craved and God did you love it.

Maybe it was the fact you were a BAU agent and he was your boss, maybe it was the thrill of being discovered, maybe it was the taste of the forbidden – hell, what would the FBI have said if they knew the upright boss of the behavioral analysis unit was breaking the rules that he himself continually reiterated to his agents?

This, however, didn't stop either of you, indeed it was as if all this was fuel thrown on the fire, passion and desire you already felt.

At first you both managed to keep that passion at bay, having occasional sex in hotel rooms when you were out of town for a case. But the more time passed, the more difficult it became to suppress everything, to hide that you wanted to rip each other’s clothes off every minute of the day.

And that's why you found yourself in his office that evening, fucking near his desk while there were still some colleagues still in the bullpen.

“God I've been thinking about you and this damn skirt all day… Fuck… You’re irresistible,” he muttered, his eyes scanning your figure sitting on him as his dick fucked your wet pussy.

He was completely mesmerized.

Your skirt was rolled up around your hips, the sheer black stockings you were wearing until recently had been ripped by Hotch in the heat of passion, your panties were thrown to the floor, your shirt unbuttoned and your bra moved as your breasts popped out and bounced to the rhythm of your motion.

You looked like a fucking goddess.

The walls of your pussy started to clench around his dick, making him twitch inside you, your hips stuttering as you felt your orgasm building more and more. It was as if your body was going through convulsions and you couldn't control it, you just wanted and desired that intense pleasure that only Aaron Hotchner was able to give you.

He wrapped his lips around your breast, sucking and licking your nipple as you threaded your hands into his hair and pulled it. You bit your lower lip in an attempt to keep at bay the moans and gasps you was struggling to keep quiet.

“Just like that, oh yeah just like that you feel so good Hotch,” you whispered in a gasp, rolling your eyes and head back. His tongue licked your skin, from your breasts, then moving up your collarbone to your neck, kissing and sucking your skin until he left a mark.

Hotchner wasn't one for hickeys, he wasn't one for office sex in the workplace, he wasn't one for quickies, he wasn't one to break the rules that he himself had set but you managed to break down every single part of his barrier, you managed making him lose control in a way that he loved and hated at the same time, you managed to unleash emotions in him that he had never even felt in his life.

You were hurricane.

You were storm.

You were addiction.

And he couldn't get enough of you, never.

“Shit, fuck,” he cursed, biting and licking the skin of your shoulder as his thumb began drawing imaginary circles on your clit making your muscles tense even more and your movements more erratic. You almost had a heart attack from the intense pleasure that flowed through your veins. “God princess you ruin me.”

A breathtaking orgasm hit over you without any other warning like a raging river, making you dizzy and see stars. Your vision went blurry for a few moments, making you even forget you were in your boss' office and someone could actually hear you.

You tried to catch your breath but at that very moment there was a knock on the door, making both you and Hotch freeze in place, his hard dick still inside you. You exchanged a panicked look.

“Just one second.” Aaron had responded after clearing his throat and then continuing talking to you in a whisper, “Get under the desk.”

You nodded and lifted yourself off his legs, which had turned to jelly as you bent down and picked up your panties. You settled under the desk between his legs while he quickly tried to fix his hair and button up his shirt. He stood up and put on his pants, leaving them loose without bringing them up to his hips.

“Come in.”

Your heart was beating so wildly you could hear the pounding in your ears. You stayed paralyzed under the desk, too afraid to even breathe.

The door opened and you recognized Agent Anderson's voice. “I brought the Porters' case report from five days ago Agent Hotchner.”

He nodded, his expression completely serious and professional as he pretended to fill out a file he didn't even remember at the moment.

“Thank you Agent Anderson, leave it on my desk.”

Despite the fear of being discovered, however, you couldn't contain your excitement and the thought of driving him crazy couldn't leave your mind. You placed a hand on his inner thigh, trailing your fingers along his crotch with sensuality.

Aaron almost had a heart attack when you quietly pulled his underwear off enough for his dick to pop out again, still wet and damp from your fluids and you wrapped your hand around it, starting to jerk him off with slow, controlled pace.

“Agent Hotchner there was a thing about this case I wanted to ask you about…” Agent Anderson had asked.

Are you fucking kidding me right now?

Hotch nodded and pointed to the chair in front of his desk, his lips pressed together because he was afraid if he opened them only moans would come out.

Your hand increased its speed and Hotch let out a deep sigh as he leaned back in his chair, about to have a heart attack right then and now.

He looked at Anderson, he heard him talking but his brain couldn't process a single word he was saying, too focused on trying to keep a serious expression and not let on that there was a woman under his desk who was masturbating him.

But the final blow came when you wrapped your lips around his dick, taking it all in your mouth and tasting yourself on it. He let out a small moan which immediately covered with a cough, thanking god Anderson was too caught up in whatever he was saying to notice.

His hand reached below the desk and into your hair, pulling it harshly and making you almost moan at the sensation. This caused you to pick up your pace and Hotch didn't know whether to hate you or not at that moment.

He wanted you to stop.

But also for you to keep going because that fucking mouth of yours was pure ecstasy.

“Are you okay, agent Hotchner?” Anderson stopped at a certain point, noticing the way Hotchner continued to move in his chair and the blush on his cheeks.

“Y-yes, I apologize...” Hotch breathed out. “Lord,” he almost let out a groan which he tried to mask with another cough. “I’m not feeling very well these days. C-can…” he stopped again, swallowing another moan. “We’ll talk about t-this tomorrow Anderson. Excuse me.”

You couldn’t help but smirk to yourself, feeling victorious for making the always-so-serious SSA Aaron Hotchner a complete mess.

His thighs started to shake, his fingers still pulling your hair as you licked his dick, leaving a long string of saliva on his tip. You wrapped your lips around him again and a hand around the base, jerking him off while simultaneously taking it in your mouth. Your other hand rested on his thigh, pressing your nails on his hot skin.

Your mouth felt like heaven and it didn't take long for the orgasm to start building again after it was interrupted.

“Oh yes of course, I'm sorry. Get well soon then, g-good night agent Hotchner.” Anderson replied and jumped to his feet before mumbling some more nonsense and exiting the office, closing the door behind him.

Hotch let out a particularly deep sigh and rested his head on the edge of his chair as he continued to mercilessly fuck your mouth.

“You fucking little slut, you really can't help yourself huh?” He groaned, looking back at you. His grip around your hair tightened, forcing your head down and making you gag. “My needy little whore, look at you chocking on my dick… Fuck you’re gonna make me come.”

How could he make such derogatory names so damn sexy?

It didn't take long for Hotch to explode into an intense orgasm inside your mouth, not letting your head go until he watched you swallow every single damn drop of his cum.

He exhaustedly leaned back in his chair, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he waited for his breathing to calm down.

He took your hands and helped you out from under the desk, letting you sit on his lap and kissing you until taking your breath.

He gave you a sweet little kiss on your forehead, caressing your cheek with a thumb, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. “You'll be the death of me sooner or later, agent Y/Ln.”

General tag list: @hngbrooks, @alexxavicry, @mrspeacem1nusone, @halstead-severide-fan, @allivzs, @omniaimy, @cursedashes, @kmc1989, @firetruckstuckley, @23victoria

Aaron Hotchner tag list: @mrs-ssa-hotch, @s1lverhand, @novabckly, @thatcrimeshowchick

Click here to be added to the tag list ❤️

Main Masterlist

Aaron Hotchner Masterlist

Support me on Ko-Fi ☕️

Side blog -> @halsteadloverslibrary

Ask link 💭

2K notes · View notes

chuuyrr · 5 months

Text

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִ 𓆩 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐈 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄 ‧₊ 𓆪 fallen angel! dazai osamu , f! angel! reader . . .

dazai osamu descends from heaven's heights, burdened by his own demons and desires. amidst his descent, he encounters you, a beacon of purity. regardless of his dark past and the weight of his transgressions, he finds himself inexplicably drawn to your innocence and light, and so the fallen grapples with the ultimate sacrifice, to fall from grace for the chance at true love.

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 ⊹ 𓂃 ₊ on-going, slow updates . . .

𝐂𝐖(𝐬) ⊹ 𓂃 ₊ angels! au, religious themes: inspired by éloa (1824), a poem about a f! angel falling for a "stranger", which is also inspired by the hades and persephone myth, mostly sfw, only one chapter will contain nsfw and it can be skipped

𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 ⊹ 𓂃 ₊ i can fix him (no really i can), but daddy i love him, guilty as sin?, false god by taylor swift

‧₊ ࿐ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 .ᐟ

𝐢. 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋, 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄

sfw. in which he sought to reclaim his lost light, and like a moth to a flame, he found it in you, an angel of light

𝐢𝐢. 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐓𝐘 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐍, 𝐘𝐄𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄

nsfw. amidst tangled bedsheets, you yearn for his love and grace, echoing their own longing for acceptance.

this chapter can be skipped .ᐟ

𝐢𝐢𝐢. 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑, 𝐈'𝐃 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄

sfw. despite all, he chooses you, and you choose him too, even it means to fall again just to take you with him

𝐀.𝐍. ⊹ 𓂃 ₊ this is my official submission for @kentopedia's "love through the ages" collab event. it was supposed to be a oneshot fic only for fallen angel! dazai osamu, but i just recently decided to turn it into series fic .ᐟ

#bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x y/n #dazai osamu x you #dazai x you #dazai x y/n #dazai x fem reader #bsd dazai #dazai x reader smut #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs dazai #bungo stray dogs smut #bungou stray dogs x y/n #bungou stray dogs x you #bsd x reader smut

529 notes · View notes

egypt-museum · 1 month

Text

Stele of Maya

In the upper portion, Maya and his wife Tamit pay homage to Osiris and Hathor, the gods of the necropolis.

In the lower register is a similar, corresponding scene in which Maya and his wife receive food offerings, in their turn, from their many children, in keeping with a principle of reciprocity that is often found in Egyptian religious thought.

The funerary stele of Maya, the “scribe off the outlines”, arrived in Turin with the Drovetti collection in 1824. It was possibly discovered near the funerary chapel where Ernesto Schiaparelli was to excavate roughly 80 years later.

New Kingdom, late 18th Dynasty, ca. 1353-1292 BC. Tomb Chapel of Maya (TT338), Deir el-Medina, Thebes. Now in the Egyptian Museum of Turin. S. 7910

#ancient egypt #stele #18th dynasty #new kingdom

291 notes · View notes

burningvelvet · 10 months

Text

Lord Byron's first edition copy of Frankenstein (1818), one of only two known surviving copies to be personally inscribed by Mary Shelley (the other is to her friend Mrs. Thomas). Byron took this copy with him when he went into the Greek War of Independence, and it was among his personal things when he died there in 1824:

Mary didn't disclose her name in the inscription because the novel was published anonymously and she initially wanted to keep it that way. However, Byron did reveal her identity in a letter to his publisher, correcting his assumption that Percy was the one who wrote the novel:

"The story of the agreement to write the Ghost-books is true — but the ladies are not Sisters — one is Godwin’s daughter by Mary Wolstonecraft — and the other the present Mrs. Godwin’s daughter by a former husband. Mary Godwin (now Mrs. Shelley) wrote 'Frankenstein' — which you have reviewed thinking it Shelley’s — methinks it is a wonderful work for a Girl of nineteen — not nineteen indeed — at that time."

Under Mary Shelley's consultation, Thomas Moore writes in his Life of Lord Byron (vol III):

"During a week of rain at this time, having amused themselves with reading German ghost-stories, they agreed, at last, to write something in imitation of them. 'You and I,' said Lord Byron to Mrs. Shelley, 'will publish ours together.'"

Percy, writing as Mary with her permission, mentions Byron and himself (in the third-person) in the novel's 1818 preface thus:

"Two other friends (a tale from the pen of one of whom would be far more acceptable to the public than any thing I can ever hope to produce) and myself agreed to write each a story, founded on some supernatural occurrence.

The weather, however, suddenly became serene; and my two friends left me on a journey among the Alps, and lost, in the magnificent scenes which they present, all memory of their ghostly visions. The following tale is the only one which has been completed."

646 notes · View notes

auspicioustidings · 2 months

Text

Devil's Trumpet

AKA the Appalachian horror brain worms would not leave me alone

Summary: You move to small town West Virginia to get your head on straight but the men in the woods start unravelling you instead.

Words: 3.5k

CWs: mild horror, vague reference to mental illness

This is best read while listening to some Southern gothic tunes 🎶 I suggest Big Dark Love by Murder by Death!

Colour leeched out of the world here. There is something almost comforting about that, something familiar. Familiar too is the way this town moves like syrup too thick to be pleasant in your mouth. It was how you moved though the world once. Not anymore though, no, now your mind is your own and not an invading force. Now you can appreciate the drab slowness as something external to yourself, just an environment around you and not a prison closing in inside your head.

There wasn’t much of a plan really. A will reading that left you with not a lot, but enough to get the hell out. Signing with a fountain pen that made your skin crawl with how it scratched. A stiff drink and a dart thrown at a map and tearing a ragged hole in the Greenbrier River as the sharp point didn’t quite sink far enough into the board and tore its way through the paper on the way down. You were never any good at darts.

You aren’t putting down roots. Those were for old growth, not for hardy weeds that broke through concrete and always found another crack through which to grow when killed. Nothing that felt too much like a home, so instead a room at the only inn.

This town is too small to warrant one, but it doubles as a watering hole come evening. It doesn’t seem to have been updated in an age, you wonder idly if the plaque upkept to a gleaming shine declaring the inn to have been opened in 1824 is somehow conveying pride at the fact. The peeling wallpaper in your room was probably pretty once, but the green now seems sick with age and the delicate floral pattern has started to wilt.

There is no routine to your days here until one slowly creeps in as it always does.

Breakfast first. You don’t know if it’s something in the air here, but you wake up with a bitter taste in your mouth and are eager to drown it in food and mint toothpaste. The inn has a small kitchenette for guest use and you make yourself toast with butter and strawberry jam. It’s a little too sweet but the tea helps, black with no sugar.

You stretch out the back of the inn and enjoy the view of the woods. You don’t call it yoga because it makes you less likely to do it, but you had learned when things were bad that quietly engaging your body in the morning was a good way to quiet your mind. There’s a little tension in the back of your neck you try to work out but it sticks there until you finish up and go back inside to shower. The hot water fixes it you think.

The first few weeks here you just sit and watch the world go by, but then you one day you decide to get up and spend some time wandering the town. It’s small, decrepit. There is the inn, a few sparse houses, one general store. The library, despite being the only venue with any chance of entertainment, is usually empty. You meet Mrs Lela Kaletaws who runs it, although she isn’t always around.

Roads here are barely holding together, but the one main road that runs out of town is at least in somewhat better condition. It runs parallel with the woods at one point, curving off just past old Mr Kleer's house. The man in question usually sits on his porch but he’s friendly enough so you don’t pay much mind to the gun.

After you’ve wandered town you make sandwiches for lunch. It isn’t much exciting, but it is routine and is filling enough that you bunker down for a nap after.

In the afternoon you go for a long walk before returning to the inn for dinner. There is a bar downstairs that opens in the evenings and serves food that while not a delicacy by any means is hot and filling. You retire to your room, read some of your book and go to sleep.

It continues that way. Breakfast, stretch, shower, wander, lunch, sleep, walk, dinner, read, sleep.

At first you only really skirt the edge of the woods, but with each passing dreary day you venture closer to the depths down the packed dirt path. The path through the woods is confusing and unmarked. Where you swore just yesterday it went to the right, today it goes to the left. Even so it must be your sense of direction, because the path always leads you past the jimsonweeds that come up to you chest before spitting you out on the road that leads to old Mr Kleer's house. The flowers are beautiful, but there is some metallic tang to their otherwise sweet scent that causes your teeth to ache.

—

More comfortable with the area now, it causes a fright when you see a man in the woods just in the corner of your eye only to snap your head around and have him vanish. You force calming breathes and keep walking. There is no such thing as ghosts in these woods.

Old man Axell calls to you from his porch as you pass, rifle butt settled on the rickety wood that you worry will collapse and left leg stretched straight out towards you like reaching for something.

“Seeing things in the woods kid?”

“I look spooked sir?”

“Like you’ve seen a Ghost I reckon.”

You give a shaky laugh at that.

“Only if ghosts come in flesh and blood and quick feet. Some man gave me a fright is all.”

“Must be out of towners” Axell says.

You do not like the way he says it. You do not like that he looks at you strangely. But you smile and nod and get on your way. He is only an old man.

—

There is someone in the woods. You feel his gaze on you, feel the dull prickle that rests on your nape from those eyes.

“We really must stop meeting like this” you say.

You have stopped trying to catch him. Now you only speak, eyes set on the dirt path in front of you. You do not think you will get a reply and when you do you shudder horribly at how much closer the voice is than you had anticipated.

“Don’t enjoy the company?”

He’s English and you frown. Out of towner. The old man must know something, but maybe you cannot begrudge him having fun at your expense. You have not made friends here.

“Enjoy company where I can see it if it’s all the same to you.”

The man laughs. It is a confusing laugh, warm and cold all at once as it bounces through the trees.

“Careful what you wish for.”

You resist the urge to turn even as his voice moves strangely, like he is swaying from one side of the path to the other.

“Must have a face like sin to keep hiding away” you say.

The next words you can feel. His breath is right at your cheek, a strand of your hair lifted by his fingers.

“Quite the opposite.”

Your heart is a prey animal running from a predator, beating wildly against your ribs as you turn to find he isn’t there. Only you certainly felt him. He leaves a sweet smell behind.

—

Sleep does not come easily that night. The rain against your window casts the moonlight strangely into your room. You spend hours watching as the creeping vines on the wallpaper seem to twist and shift beneath the moon flowers. When you finally fall asleep, it is almost as if you can smell them. Sweet and slightly metallic.

You wake up with the fading scent of damp earth and something on the edge of rot in your nose and the feel of dirt packed uncomfortably under your nails. They’re clean you find, but you spend the start of the morning cutting them down once you see the fading scratches left on your arms and legs through the night.

—

He is not the only stranger in the woods. You swore you would not go back, but routine takes you there without thought.

The Scottish man likes to walk on your right hand side, just enough steps behind you that you can only see him at the very side of your vision. You think he is handsome, but it is difficult to be sure. What you can be sure of is that he is dressed oddly. You have spoken to him for a while now, discussing yourself mostly. Perhaps it is the eerie quiet of the woods that makes you want to fill the dead space, but you tell him more about yourself than you ever would have thought yourself comfortable with.

“Are you a soldier then?” you ask.

“Sometimes, I think.”

You take a moment to chew that answer, wonder at the taste of it. There is a panic when you smell blood on the air, but it is quickly blanketed by sweetness. You have reached the jimsonweeds. It is too early, you have not walked far enough to be here already. But before you can protest the steps to your right stop and you know the man is gone.

None of them ever come farther than this.

—

You try the next day and the next to get answers from him. He seems to make a decision at one point just as the familiar smell reaches you and you think you will leave with no more information than you had before.

“I’m SAS.”

He is not there when you turn to thank him. He is not there at all when you return the next day.

—

The library run by Mrs Kaletaws is added to your routine. Breakfast, stretch, shower, library, lunch, try to sleep, walk, dinner, read, try to sleep. The small building has the peculiar addition of a cat you never quite see. You hear the skitter of claws on worn wood floor that has started to smell of sickly sweet rot, see fading scratches on the legs and arms of the chair, find hairs on your clothing, feel the prickle of eyes focused on you from the dark running up your spine to settle dully on the back of your neck. You have tried before to get a glimpse of the creature, but it only seems to exist in the very corner of your eye and retreats when your gaze tries to creep around to catch it.

Lela never talks about the cat. She told you once that it is only her and her wife that live in the basement below the library. You have never seen her wife and fear she must have some permanent sickness that stops her from being able to do much. You think they should move above ground so she can at least see the world through the windows obscured by racing raindrops, but you keep it to yourself.

The one computer here is old, the white plastic exterior now yellowed. Still, it is the only gateway to the outside world in this little town and you blow at your tea while waiting for your search results. ‘SAS military bases in West Virginia’ is a shot in the dark, but you need to start somewhere. After a sip you dump more sugar into your cup before looking at your finally loaded results.

There are none. No British military installations at all in the USA. You had hoped at least the results would bring up something about training exercises but it is just pages of useless information about bases around the world. You read about the SAS, fall down a rabbit hole of how they torture their soldiers to train them to withstand it. You go through pages and pages of search results until finally one talks about SAS soldiers in this area.

The link takes you to a dusty website that stopped being updated sometime in the late 90s. It’s some sort of conspiracy blog and you are prepared to close it, but you can’t help but get lost in the story it tells.

The details are unclear which you suppose is the hallmark of any good conspiracy. 40 years ago. There was a team of two, or maybe four or maybe seven. They set up just outside the woods with little to no explanation. There’s an interview from a local, not a name you recognise so one you think is likely long dead. She says two of the soldiers went into the woods first. She remembers something bad must have happened, because there was an argument between the five left outside. Nobody was allowed close, but she watched two more men go into the woods. After that the operation seemed to vanish entirely overnight and nobody heard anything more about it.

Whoever authored the blog has a gift with words because despite your logical mind knowing it was probably nothing but a random training exercise, the hairs on the back of your neck raise.

There is a photo of the alleged unit at the end loading slowly. You stare in fascination as line by line appears from the top. The world stops before it fully loads. At first you are confused as to why your whole body is tense, why your heart is racing. And then you figure it out. Silence. Complete and all together sudden silence. No rain hitting the windows, no scratching of the cat echoing, not even the whir of the computer.

You do not want to look away from the screen. You do not want to turn around. The prickle on your neck goes from dull to sharp.

The computer powers down.

—

He says to call him John. This man does not walk to your right like the Scottish one, or behind you like the first one you met. He walks in front of you. You can see the full expanse of his back clad in a vest. He wears a hat. He only ever turns slightly, enough to see that he has sideburns but never enough to see his face.

You are so enraptured by being able to see so much of him so clearly that it takes you a while to notice there is someone on your left. A few steps behind like the Scottish one does on your right. It takes you by surprise enough that you are about to forget the unspoken rules and turn, but John predicts your move.

“Eyes forward.”

“Sorry” you say automatically, fixing you eyes to his back and letting the other man stay as the impression of a creature just in sight of your left eye.

“They’re pretty, Captain.”

“I’m aware.”

It should not make you blush but somehow it does.

“What’s you name?” you ask.

There is no way to direct it specifically to the man on your left, so you simple direct it to the back of John and hope that the trees will send it where it needs to go.

“Captain?” the man asks, not for permission but as if genuinely unsure of the answer.

“Kyle, your name’s Kyle.”

“Right. Kyle.”

You catch the movement of him touching his chest, maybe rubbing at a name tag there but you can’t be sure.

“You can call me Gaz if you like.”

John and Gaz are your company for weeks. Whenever you ask after the other two, the air turns sweet and bloody and you are left alone among the jimsonweeds.

—

“Got intae trouble for ye.”

You’re not sure where you are but you recognise the voice. Is he in your room?

“We both did. Curiosity would’ve killed you little kitten,” comes the other voice from the first man in the woods somewhere behind you.

You hazily look down at yourself. You are not in the bed at the inn, you are in another bed laid on your back. You feel your legs brush against one another, not clad in the flannel you remembered wearing. Silk, you are wearing silk. Delicate against your skin, not much of it. Were you wearing perfume? Something smells sweet.

As you stare at the bare expanse of your leg a hand sinks into your thigh, squeezes.

“Fuck LT, so soft. Fingers just sink right in.”

You fight the urge to look to the right where the hand is coming from. You can’t look, some primal part of your brain knows you cannot look.

“Stay away from the woods” the man behind you whispers into your ear like a caress as his hands settle gently around your neck.

You do not feel the snap of bone, but you hear it. You taste the blood in your mouth.

You do not manage to fall back asleep when you wake.

—

Breakfast, library, try to sleep, don’t go into the woods, dinner, try to sleep, stare at the wallpaper, try to sleep.

—

You overhear Axell and Lela once. You think they are talking about you.

“You think we’re doing the right thing?” Axell asks.

“I don’t think there is a right thing anymore.”

“It’s been a long time now. Maybe we should let them go.”

“You think we could?”

There is a silence. Neither of them thinks so. Paranoia settles over you that you haven’t felt since back when things got bad. It’s like an old vice settling into your bones, or maybe seeping out of them as if it never truly left. You cannot go back to that place again so you take some aspirin for the rhythmic pulsing behind your eyes and the dull prickle at the back of your neck and resolve to put any thoughts of conspiracy out of your mind. Lela and Axell are simply old, there is not something they know that you do not.

—

You do not mean to walk into the woods again. The man behind you is back. He feels different somehow.

“I could eat you right up” he says against your neck.

Old Mr Kleer sees the bloodied bite at your throat and says nothing as you walk by.

—

You book a bus ticket. It feels too much like there are tendrils growing from you to burrow into the ground, to fix you here. If you don’t rip them out now, it is only a matter of time until the roots are so deep you won’t be strong enough to move. You aren’t eating properly, you’ve hardly slept and when you do you wake up with a bitter taste in your mouth and covered in scratches. There is still the shape of a bite on your throat and the B&B owners in Pennsylvania look at you with pity as you check in.

The building is charming and fairly new. You stare at the neutral pink wallpaper. One corner of it has lifted ever so slightly. You fall asleep staring at the peek of green underneath.

—

It doesn’t rain as much here, the sun is out and everything seems more colourful. Weeks pass in a haze and you slowly emerge again, eating properly, sleeping through the night. The town on the Greenbrier starts to fade to an unpleasant dream.

—

There is something comforting about the old man who comes to stay and sits by you for breakfast in the mornings. He has the remnants of a Russian accent and laughs frequently and easily. The stories he tells are fantastical, but he’s non-committal about his visit to small town Pennsylvania although he at least tells you that he likes the nature around here. He whispers that his legs aren’t up for much walking anymore, so he has to take the easy paths through small patches of nature.

It takes a week or so more to work up the courage to accompany him on a walk. It seems silly, but the woods make you feel afraid. Maybe a short walk through the small area he spoke of will help you get beyond it. You rub at your neck, feeling the marks faded but still there.

—

He notices your discomfort and tries to ease it with his stories as you walk the dirt path.

“It’s the most important thing I’ve learned you know” he says, the aching grief in his voice causing you pause, “you cannot leave friends behind.”

You turn to him, intending to ask how much longer the path leads since it is getting dark now. He is not there.

“Nik?” you ask, calm at first but increasingly more frantic.

That old familiar dull prickle settles on the back of your neck as you run back down the way you came to get out of the woods. Drooping tree limbs get in your way and you push through, ignoring the scratches. As darkness falls you slow to a walk, unable to see anything in front of you. You catch the smell the sweetness of the jimsonweeds. You can smell blood.

Foot steps that are not your own surround you. A set in front of you. One behind. To the left and to the right.

“Welcome home.”

#mhairiwrites #tf141 #tf141 x reader #sort of not really?#horror is so hard to write my god

267 notes · View notes

h0neysp1ce · 2 months

Note

Hi! I was wondering if you could do my request? Could you any genshin boys (Mainly Neuvillette and Wriothesley, but if you want to do one, do Neuvillette) with a fem!reader who’s like robin from hsr? Like she’s a popular idol and is very famous?

Thanks for reading my request, and make sure to take care of yourself!

Nҽυʋιʅʅҽƚƚҽ x Iԃσʅ Fҽɱ! Rҽαԃҽɾ

Characters: Neuvillette, Fem! Reader Tags: Established Relationship, Fluff Constellation: Head canons, Scenarios/One Shots Warning(s): Spoilers for Neuvillette's character and Fontaine quests. DNI if you haven't played through the Fontaine Archon quests yet or interacted with Fontaine as a whole. There are spoilers! also there are French Pet names mentioned such as Mon Chéri, Mon trésor, and Mon Amour. Reader is Female Aligned , although its rough finding context clues of that (I'll edit later for any mistakes) mentions of other characters such as Seigiwinne, Lyney, and Lynette. Cringe Dialogue between you and Neuv?? sort of. Mentions of Deep kissing sessions but nothing over that??

A/N: Thank you to the person who requested this! It provided a fun challenge for my writing skills, which I enjoyed ^^ I wasn't sure if you meant headcanons or scenarios, so I included a mixture. And thank you do take care of yourself too! <3 (edited post)

word count: 1824

˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.

You had caught the eye of the Hydro Dragon in short...

➺ You and Neuvillette had started dating privately since you were both significant figures in Fontaine, him as the Chief of Justice and you as a popular Idol.

➺ The relationship is very discreet and private; the only person who knows would probably be Sigewinnie. You two had met at the Opera House during Lyney and Lynette's magic show.

To put it simply, you found yourself wanting to get away from the paparazzi. So, you put on a disguise and decided to visit the Opera House, curious about the magic show. However, you had no idea you would bump into the Chief of Justice.

𝒮𝒸𝑒𝓃𝒶𝓇𝒾𝑜 (1)

You took a seat beside the Chief of Justice without realizing who he was. Suddenly, a voice broke your train of thought.

"Excuse me- "

You turned to look, and it was Neuvillette himself. You almost freaked out, but you kept your composure.

"Monsieur Neuvillette—" your voice faltered mid-sentence.

"Ms. "Name" I presume?" he asked.

"How did you- "

"Don’t fret, Madam Name. I’m not going to blow your cover, so you can relax," he stated with a slight smile.

➺ From that point on, you two found ways to see each other—some coincidences and some deliberate. This is what strengthened your relationship the most.

➺ Your hometown is Fontaine, so when you’re not touring or performing, you’re relaxing at home.

➺Eventually, it was clear that you both had feelings for each other. Though it was awkward at first, you two made it official, and it went surprisingly well.

𝒮𝒸𝑒𝓃𝒶𝓇𝒾𝑜 (2)

You had just finished rehearsal for one of your concerts and had promised Neuvillette in advance that you would have a date and some tea together.

You hastily made your way to his office, gently opening the door and closing it behind you.

"Ah, Mon chéri—I presume rehearsals concluded ?" Neuvillette trailed off. He was at his desk, finalizing some paperwork when he looked up at you and gave a smile.

" Yes, Mon amour, they did," you responded. You made your way behind his desk, plopped down in his lap, and rested your head on his shoulder.

"Mon trésor," he murmured, taking one of your hands and kissing the back of it before bringing it to his cheek to bask in your warmth.

He trailed a few kisses from the edge of your palm to your wrist, his hand resting on top of yours.

You and he just sat like that for what seemed like a while until you broke the silence.

"Mon amour, how has work been going on your end, if I may ask?"

"It’s been very tedious, my dear "Name", but as the Chief of Justice, it’s my job," he said with a slight smile.

He looked at you with admiration and suddenly pulled you in for a sweet kiss that lasted a few moments. You both enjoyed the warmth and passion of the moment.

You pulled away first and giggled at how clingy he was being.

You shared a few more kisses before actually getting on with the date, which ended with you both drinking tea and discussing a multitude of topics.

➺ Neuvillette is a man who loves praise. He adores it when you compliment him and will do the same for you, admiring and praising you in every way. He definitely attends most of your concerts; unfortunately, he can’t make it to all of them because of his busy schedule with trials, paperwork, and his duties as the Chief of Justice. However, he always ensures to be your biggest supporter and fan.

➺He loves your voice. When you speak or sing, it’s like listening to an angel to him.

➺ He has been open about his true identity to you. In fact, he told you he was the Hydro Dragon on your second date. He didn’t want to hide it from you because he cares about you and values honesty in your relationship. At first, he was hesitant to tell you because he didn’t know how you would react, and he didn’t want to overwhelm you.

➺ This man even gave you a promise ring. You both have matching rings, though his is hidden under one of his gloves for obvious reasons related to Fontaine's never ending drama. He loves how you wear yours on display.

Interviewer: "Now, Ms. Name, can you tell me about the ring on your finger?" the interviewer asked curiously.

"Name:" “Oh, this is just a new piece of prized jewelry I wear. It’s an important piece and has a lot of value, that’s all I’ll say for now,” you replied.

➺ That’s the excuse to keep things concealed between you two, as you prefer to keep the relationship private.

➺ Sigewinne found out during tea time between her and Neuvilette , Neuvillette mentioned you, and she could tell from the way he spoke about you that you two were definitely an item. She always found you to be a lovely couple.

➺ Neuvillette loves when you return from your travels or tours. He enjoys when you find a comfy spot on his lap in his office while he’s going through files and paperwork. He might pull you closer and sneak in a few kisses and caresses while multitasking.

➺He is excellent at multitasking, confirmed.

➺ He admires you in every way. He finds you beautiful and sweet and feels you bring him so much joy. Whenever you’re around, this Hydro Dragon cries less, to put it simply.

➺ You’re good at easing each other’s stress. For you, you work with comforting him, and your comfort helps him relax when he’s been cooped up in his office for too long. On the other hand, he goes for a more delicate approach, like letting you sit on his lap or resting on the sofa in his office after a lot of rehearsals or concerts.

➺ He’s a physical touch and gift-giving man, and maybe just a bit into words of affirmation. He has a specific way of talking to you. Although he may not fully understand all human emotions, he really tries, and you’ve helped him understand them better.

➺ He loves your touches—your soft hands that fit so well in his, and when you cup his face, he’ll place his hands over yours if you do so for a while. He enjoys basking in your warmth, and he loves to litter your hands with kisses and trail up your hands and wrists. He wants to kiss your soft lips 24/7 and hold you passionately every chance he gets. You are precious to him.

➺ He is a well-mannered man with a lot of courtesy and respect towards you <3

➺ You and him do live together, but the location is kept private between you two.

➺ This man will eventually ask you to marry him—100% guaranteed.

➺ Just ask, and he makes some of your concerts. You tend to attend some of the trials he oversees, though you sit in the back so you’re not easily noticed.

➺ Things definitely grow passionate when you kiss, and it becomes very intimate. By the end, you’re either both slightly out of breath or Neuvillette is covered in kiss marks from your lipstick.

➺ You might think he would be bothered by lipstick stains and marks left on him, but he actually loves them, even though he has to clean them off before making a public appearance, which is rare unless it’s a trial or something.

➺ He’ll often give you his coat on the way home. His coat draped over you is something that makes him happy.

➺ They say dragons like treasure. You are, in fact, his treasure—more precisely, his “Mon trésor.”

➺ Being the Iudex in Fontaine, you know he’s fluent in French, so expect him to speak to you in French sometimes or give you French pet names of endearment.

➺ As an Idol, you have many die-hard fans. It’s not bad for the most part, but sometimes they can get out of hand.

➺ You’re famous to the point that the whole of Teyvat knows who you are at this point.

➺ You made a name for yourself early in your career and are a very successful Idol, beloved by many.

➺ Your music and songs are hits across the world of Teyvat. Lots of people talk about you a lot.

➺ Your Vision is Hydro, and during your performances, you use water techniques from your Vision to create cool effects at your concerts.

➺ Not only are you a hit as an Idol, but you also do interviews, modeling for photoshoots, and there is some merchandise with your face on it. However, you prefer to keep it minimal, as having your face on everything is a bit overwhelming at times.

➺ Yes, there are downsides to being an Idol - crazy fans and intrusive paparazzi, to name a few. But other than that, you love your career.

➺ With your Vision, when used during performances, it creates a trail of water, musical notes, and floating bubbles that sync with your voice and timing.

➺ Sometimes, Neuvillette will ask you to sing something for him when you’re alone, and you get shy and surprised, asking him why.

𝒮𝒸𝑒𝓃𝒶𝓇𝒾𝑜 (3)

"I'm running a bit late," you said, glancing at the time.

"I’ll be back soon, mon amour," you kissed Neuvillette goodbye.

He smiled and pulled you in for one last kiss before you had to go, returning your goodbye kiss.

"I’ll see you later this evening, mon chéri. Remember dinner tonight," he said.

You grinned widely in return and turned to head off, getting ready for another one of your concerts. Unfortunately, Neuvillette was buried in paperwork, so he couldn’t attend this one. But he wished you all the best and good luck.

Later, you returned from your concert, kicking off your heels after entering the shared home you and Neuvillette have.

"Mon amour!" you called out.

"Yes, Mon trésor, I’m in the dining room," he replied.

You entered the dining room, which was dark except for the lit candles on the table.

A candlelit dinner? Your face flushed slightly red as you looked up to see Neuvillette sitting across the table with a wine glass in hand.

"Welcome home, dear "Name", he said.

"Neuvillette, you didn’t have to do all this..." you murmured as you walked over to him.

He pulled you into his lap the moment you reached him, holding you close for a moment before responding.

"Mon amour," he mumbled into your shoulder.

"My sweet Hydro Dragon..." You lightly ran a hand through his white fluffy locks, gently massaging his scalp.

You ended up staying there, chatting over dinner about your day and enjoying each other’s company.

A/N: Dialogue went brrr. I tried to be as creative and detailed as possible but it might be cringe at points. I’m still learning how to write so apologies for any awkward dialogue ;w;

. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.

#neuvilette genshin #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x y/n #neuvillette x you #neuvillette #genshin x you #genshin fluff #genshin x reader #genshin impact #h0neysp1ce #fluff #fem reader #female reader #x reader #reader insert

104 notes · View notes

overly-specific-byron-memes · 8 months

Text

Happy 200th anniversary of Byron’s final birthday before his death 🥲

'Tis time this heart should be unmoved, Since others it hath ceased to move: Yet though I cannot be beloved, Still let me love! Seek out—less often sought than found— A Soldier's Grave, for thee the best; Then look around, and choose thy Ground, And take thy rest.

from “On This Day I Complete My Thirty-Sixth Year”, 22 January 1824

#lord byron #byron memes #sorry for not posting very much 😭

159 notes · View notes

moongirldreamer · 4 months

Text

Lighthouse keeper!Eddie x siren!reader

Happy Eddiversary to those who celebrate (this is so late lol)

words: 1k

cw: none i don't think.

a/n: besties this is my first ever fic please be nice to me I tried my best.

Thank you to my friend @theold-ultraviolence Irma i wouldn't have come up with this au or written any of it, if it wasn't for you and our Self Indulgence Sundays. Thank you for nudging me i love you <3

Lightkeeper!Eddie headcannons

August 17 1824

It's been a week since the mysterious lass appeared on my doorstep. Two more till the supply dingy visits, it's been strange, readapting to living with a person but we’ve fallen into a routine. I've found a smile on my face many a time as I'm working. Her voice carries on the wind, it's almost as if it’s blowing it directly to me.

E.M.

Eddie hardly counted the sailors he’d met and slept next to people, not civilized people at least, forced to wash with salt water to preserve the limited supply of fresh water. He spent many a night with a makeshift mask over his face to hopefully block out the scent of sweat and the sea but when she arrived, he found he didn't mind it, almost like he missed it.

The keeper's house contained 2 rooms as the tending was intended to be a 2-man job, he never realized how empty the small space was until she occupied it. Grown used to the loneliness the sea brings he forgot that the ocean also gives, and she had given him a beautiful gift. He tried to be the perfect housemate before he went off to his tending. He left coffee already brewed in a small metal pot for her to reheat when she woke, fetched a bucket of water for her from the cistern and left a note on the kitchen table : back at sunset. Will cook dinner- E

Morning work was easy enough; take inventory, rain fell last night meaning the cistern had to be woken up with chalk and a good mixing and then any odd maintenance works the buildings needed. He would always know when she was awake no matter how far he wandered from their quarters, her voice seemed to carry on the wind straight to him. Often time he found himself singing along, whistling is a bad omen on ships he remembers this even on land. He knew quite a few sea shanties, picked up a few local songs while he was on the mainland, but she often sings songs he's never heard before and sometimes he thinks in a language he can't understand.

At noon he returns to a simple meal tack and stew she so proudly displays to him half burnt and over salted, but he grins and eats it anyway. She told him in the first week with misty eyes

“I don't want to be a burden, let me….. Let me cook lunch at least you work so hard let me help you” lip trembling and how could he deny her.

“The poor thing” he thought “could make anything taste like salt water and gruel” but he eats anyway.

“Thank you darling, what would i do without you?"

“You're welcome" grinning she looks down at her plate before shyly muttering

"if you're not too busy, would you like to join me on a walk at sunset?"

"OfCourse, anything for you" he smirks leaving her with a kiss on her hairline.

Sunset at the lighthouse made it seem like the sky and sea were competing for your attention, seeing which could glimmer brighter, but Eddies attention was elsewhere. He was enchanted by how her beauty seemed to be enhanced in the golden light.

"Open your hand" she blinks up at him one her fists closed tightly. Wordlessly he gives her his palm and she places an oyster shell, no longer than his pinkie, in it

He grins "an oyster?"

"Yes, my mother told me they were a sign of good fortune"

"Huh I only know them as dinner"

She laughs, mouth opening to give him a clever word or two when she suddenly goes stiff looking over his shoulder.

"What is it?" he spins to look at what could've possibly rattled her, and behind him on a boulder is a seagull, a bit unremarkable too no missing limbs or gnarled features.

So, he laughs” You're scared of that little thing?”

“Yes, they're retched beasts of the sky with no manners” she grips his bicep keeping him between her and the bird.

“Y’know on the ships they say they’re the souls of drowned sailors, so we treat them kindly just like our human shipmates” he laughs as she moves her glare from the gull over to him.

“I think they should be chum” she says, squinting at the bird, almost daring it to attack.

In a sudden move the gull swoops over their heads missing hers by a centimeter and continuing out to sea.

"Did you see that! that that monster nearly killed me"

"Maybe you need this more than i do" he dropped the oyster back into her palm

"What? no, no i want you to have it, besides you'll need it if you're going to try befriending those creatures"

He chuckled, the sound like warm honey in the cool sea breeze. "Alright, if you insist. But I promise, no more gull attacks on my watch."

Shakily she grabbed his arm again as they continued their walk down the shoreline.

"Do you ever miss it? sailing? "

"Hmm, sometimes" he sends a wistful look out at the water the sun spilling over it as the last of it slips below the horizon.

"it was my life, the only thing I was good at" he grins, but it's sad round the edges.

"but i needed the change, it was getting too repetitive"

"so you decided to tend a lighthouse? the same job day in day out" her eyebrows pull together eyes squinting in confusion

another smile this one woven with affection "well I'd travelled a while but i needed to return to the sea almost- almost as if something was"

"Was calling you back" her tone changes, her voice becomes layered whispers singing and screaming. her eyes gleam, a secret understanding.

"Yes like-like it was calling me" he steps towards her without thinking, mechanically putting one foot in front of the other, eyes locked on hers until he feels wet? Looking down he realizes his boots are drenched, shin length in the waves his brows furrow.

"What are you doing?" asks melodic laugh behind him and he turns to see her, face lit up with the last of the afternoon glee and a smile.

"Think I wanted to go for a swim" the end lifts like a question, he looks back down to his feet barely visible in the water

"But it's getting dark, we should head back" again her voice changes and he moves without remembering, until they're back to their quarters and she bids him goodnight.

That night as he refills the oil and cleans the lense at the top of the lighthouse out in the distance on a cluster of rocks he sees a figure bathed in darkness. He can only make out a humanoid figure with their hair whipping in the cold sea air behind them. Leaning over the railing to squint into the darkness his blood runs cold as a wail crosses the distance, then a soft whisper, as if it was said over his shoulder, of his name.

"eddie"

#baby's first fic #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #lightkeeper!eddie munson x siren!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader angst #stranger things #eddie munson au #lightkeeper au #eddie munson siren au #joseph quinn #mermay #eddiversary

117 notes · View notes

uwmspeccoll · 1 year

Text

Typography Tuesday

New acquisition! A type specimen book from New York type foundry George Bruce's Son & Co., 1869. George Bruce (1781–1866) was a Scottish American printer and type founder. He and his older brother started off as type founders and printers in 1812 but jettisoned their printing business in 1816 to concentrate on founding type. His typefaces became widely popular among printers by the 1830s, and his company remained predominant for a generation. His son David Wolfe Bruce (1824–1895) took over the business after his father's death, and ran it until his retirement in 1890. The firm was eventually acquired, like so many other foundries, by American Type Founders.

View more Typography Tuesday posts.

#Typography Tuesday #typetuesday #George Bruce's Son & Co.#George Bruce #Type specimen books #type specimens #type display books #type founding #type foundries

240 notes · View notes

whistledownpens · 4 months

Text

omg, if i see one more post about how Colin only noticed Penelope after she lost weight in the books, i'm going to scream cause it's simply not true

in the books Penelope loses weight between her first and second season (1813 and 1814), when she was between 17 and 18, there's no mentioning of her losing weight after that

April of 1814 found Penelope back in London for a second season, and even though she attracted the same number of suitors as the year before (zero), the season wasn't, in all honesty, quite so bad. It helped that she'd lost nearly two stone and could now call herself "pleasantly rounded" rather than "a hideous pudge." She was still nowhere near the slender ideal of womanhood that ruled the day - Romancing Mr Bridgerton

the incident of him saying he wasn't going to marry Penelope happens in 1817, after she lost two stone and he still wasn't interested in marrying her

Colin and Penelope in Romancing Mr Bridgerton get together in 1824 when she's 28 and he's 33, and the reason for that to happen it's because doesn't feel like she has to hide her personality and can be her true self without getting nervous and shy which deeps their friendship, since she's officially a spinster cause her weight and looks were the same since 1814

the only thing that changes in the ten years it's her wardrobe since she's a spinster and Portia doesn't care anymore, she can choose her own dresses and doesn't need to wear citrus colors, same as the show

#polin #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #colin x penelope #penelope x colin #bridgerton

97 notes · View notes

desertdollranch · 6 months

Text

Happy birthday, Josefina! And mini Josefina, who is dressed up for the special occasion. This year marks the bicentennial of Josefina's stories, which begin in 1824.

In fact, all my mini Josefina dolls are celebrating today! Lining them up shows how they've changed over the years. On the left is my oldest mini, a circa 1997 first edition Pleasant Company doll. Next to her is Christmas Josefina, a 25th anniversary edition released in 2011. Then there's BeForever Josefina from 2014. And birthday Josefina, who was released in 2016 for American Girl's 30th anniversary.

As a 10th birthday present, I gave Josefina this darling little treasure chest, which vaguely reminds me of the large trunk from her collection. I found it at a weird little thrift store in Roswell.

It's a bit too small to hold all of her clothing, but it's perfect for her accessories like shoes, socks, sashes, rebozos, and hair ribbons. There's a mirror under the lid, too.

#josefina montoya #happy birthday josefina #mini dolls

112 notes · View notes

chuuyrr · 4 months

Text

𝐢. 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋, 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄 ‧₊ .ᐟ

series masterlist | next chapter

𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 ⊹ 𓂃 ₊ i can fix him (no really i can)

𝐂𝐖(𝐬) ⊹ 𓂃 ₊ angels! au, religious themes: inspired by éloa (1824), a poem about a f! angel falling for a "stranger", which is also inspired by the hades and persephone myth. submission to @kentopedia's event !

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ⊹ 𓂃 ₊ sfw. in which he sought to reclaim his lost light, and like a moth to a flame, he found it in you, an angel of light

in the tapestry of stories you've heard high and low, dazai osamu's name profoundly echoed in the heavens, tarnished by fame. you've heard it time and time again, like a broken record from the moment you were given life from the tears of the god above.

he was whispered to be akin to the devil himself, once counted among the highest-ranking angels who succumbed to the depths of disgrace.

so profound was his descent from grace that even the mere mention of his name invoked a shiver of fear. branded as fallen, unworthy, and a symbol of shame, his very existence became a testament to the consequences of betrayal in heaven.

and you were such a curious little creature of the cursed tale, almost like an innocent lamb to a wolf, as they say. however, even as an angel from above, you contemplated the prospect of getting condemned and branded unfit. the so-cursed fallen may have made mistakes, but you still stuck to this very principle.

is not everyone deserving of grace? a second chance at forgiveness? those questions plagued your heart and soul, feeling you with a sense of trepidation that you had struggled to shake, yet you somehow longed for it. how strange.

you delved to question the morality and rationale of it, therefore you were warned not to seek what is unlawful or even question the greatest order among the heavenly creatures you all are, or you would be labeled the same as the devil, dazai osamu, the fallen angel.

not only were you a curious thing, but you were also frequently admonished, such as not flying too low on the ground or you would no longer be able to stay above, but you dismissed it as a stupid scolding.

besides, how could you not? the earth was as lovely as the sky above. every corner was a breath of life, born of a miracle, just like you.

so, you descended from heaven, disregarding the warnings of your fellow angels and higher-ups, and found yourself floating across the line that connects the sky and land, your white feathery wings flapping and gliding along the breeze of the air.

unbeknownst to you, a pair of enigmatic eyes somewhere from the shadows was.. watching you—your every move.

you were like a delicate swan, far from the coast, giving its white wing to the passing waves of the ocean sky.

their gaze was solely affixed on the purity of your smile, the way your [color] eyes shone with light, and the way your danced in the skies with your wings akin to a dove's as if it was your ballroom, and those same eyes easily recognized you as one of the angels from heaven, and you were undoubtedly a pure soul.

and this light you had, your very purity, it was tempting those eyes, like a moth to a flame.

instead of avoiding temptation, he welcomed it with open arms, gazed wistfully at you from a distance. the urge was strong. just seeing you for the first time elicited a wide range of feelings in him. he wants your luminescence.

he wanted you, and he will get what he wants.

he purposely comes into your view, making sure to catch your attention, and it doesn't take long. no one could resist him anyways. not even a pure soul like you, even if you were not one of those mortal women that loves him so much so, they were the reason why they talk in their sleep.

your gaze catches sight of a young man, who is undoubtedly beautiful, and the feel is too celestial to be real. his eyes sparkle almost like dazzling diamonds in the night like stars, and his skin is so beautiful that he could be mistaken for an angel like you.. or perhaps he was?

"my, my," his voice was sweet as honey, and rich and deep as it is he spoke to you with a smile hoping to tug on your heartstrings, "where did you come from, beautiful archangel?"

"you came down from heaven and sent me lightning, but you are so beautiful in my eyes that i don't know why. you, too, have come from above, beautiful angel, to confront me? what an honor," he continues to sweet-talk you while admiring your figure, taking in your delicate features up close, from your eyelids and cheekbones to your torso, which was cradled by a white garment that suited your purity.

the first pale glimmer of twilight bled into the horizon, your wings arching gracefully behind you as the golden light of the setting sun bathed you and the man in a warm glow. the following words he uttered next sent a shiver down your spine as he approaches you closer.

"and who you might be?" you ask softly, a small quiet giggle escaping your lips that makes his smile grow wider as he shakes his head at the sides at your innocent question.

"i am the one we love and don’t know," he says, his voice wrapping around you like a silken thread, his eyes gleaming with a hidden fire, "on man, i have founded my empire of flame, in the desires of the heart, in the dreams of the soul, in the bonds of bodies, mysterious attractions, in the treasures of the blood, in the looks of the eyes."

you feel your wings twitch, your controlled elegance slipping for a minute. you clenched your hands into closed fists, attempting to steady yourself against the draw of his words as he moved closer, and closer, his presence entrancing you.

"i make wives speak in their dreams, learn happy lies. i give them nights which console days.. so you can say, i am the secret king of secret loves, dear angel," his gaze bore into yours, unyielding and magnetic, piercing your very soul as a light blush colored your cheeks, and you lowered your gaze, "i am no man with ill intentions, i am but a comforter.."

"i give to the earth the pleasure of the evenings and the goods of the mystery," his voice softened, almost tender as he saw the expression on your face.

the sun starts to set, and as darkness fell over the soil you walked on, you felt the shadows come alive around you, and when the final rays of sunlight vanished, your surroundings changed.

countless spirits appeared from the growing shadows of the trees. the night seemed to vibrate with an unusual energy, scented dew began to drop on the orange trees, lilac, and thyme, and he held his arms wide to encompass the entire scenery before you.

you stared in a daze as a nightingale rose towards the now-starry sky, its song heralding the young man's beloved hour. every creature and flower appeared to come alive in response to his presence. your breath caught as voices whispered among the trees, their words melting into the night's music, and it filled the air, with trees and bushes adding to the midnight chorus.

you couldn't help but tremble slightly at the change of surroundings, the aura now present in the air in his midst. your wings folding tightly behind your back as you look up at him.

he stepped closer once more over to your frame, his dark enigmatic yet sharp eyes never leaving your face as he speaks in a soothing whisper that caressed your very soul.

"do not fret me. i understand it completely, it is natural to be drawn to the unknown, to the mysteries that lie beyond the daylight's reach. you are not alone in this curiosity. many before you have felt this same pull, this same longing." he coos in a coaxing, gentle tone.

"you've always been a curious little thing, hmm? well, it's the same for me, dear," he chuckles softly, comforting you, as if he knows you, which he does. he is quite familiar with you.

"i, too, am curious. i, too, question what is unlawful or even ponder about the greatest order among the heavenly creatures like you. perhaps that way, we too, share a similar nature in that sense?" he says, causing you to shiver, the warmth and blush on your cheeks deepening as he reaches out to cup your face in his palm.

he leans in closer, his face hovering near yours, not quite touching but close enough for you to feel his warmth, his hot breath, trickling your skin, "angels like you, like us, have always been meant for purity, for light."

"wait, what are you saying?" you sputter out softly in disbelief. his name was oddly similiar, familiar, as he takes his other hand, now fully cupping your face so delicately in his palms, holding you as if he has the world in his own very hands.

"what i'm saying is that even the purest light casts a shadow," he gently squeezes your face, his eyes drawing down to your innocent yet curious, baffled gaze, and plump lips, "it is what the higher angels above us are so afraid of, hence they brand the curious unfit and unworthy of grace. they deny the parts of themselves that are curious, that yearn for something more, but it is not a sin to feel, [name]. in fact, it is what makes existence so beautifully complex."

"and that's why they labeled the fallen angel before as such?" you whisper softly, your gaze faltering.

"you are strong, [name], and oh so loving, i can see it clear as the day," he says softly, his voice like velvet, adding more fire to the flame of your inner conflict, "but even the strongest hearts can be softened. i do not seek to destroy you, or lead you astray, but to show you the beauty that lies in the shadows, the wonders that the night holds, the very same one that you have heard of dared to step upon of."

he presses his forehead against your own before he leans into your ear, whispering like the snake that tempted eve to take the forbidden fruit, "i offer a reprieve, a moment of solace. take my hand, dear, and step into the night and discover its secrets. i know you wish to seek out the same thing that condemned your fellow angel."

with quivering palms, you gently raised your gaze to meet his. your heart pounded in your chest, echoing the internal conflict you were fighting.

his dark eyes were gentle and welcoming, promising understanding and comfort, reminiscent of the fallen angel you've heard of over and over back in heaven.

"how do you know all of this? just, who are you?" you stammer out softly. your resolve was weakeneing, and for a brief moment, you were on the verge of giving in, letting go of your fears and entering the unknown, the same unknown into which the previous fallen angel had descended from grace to.

"i go by many names, but call me shuji.. at least for now," he chuckles, seeing the conflict in your eyes, reminding him of the power of his words, the allure of his presence, and he knew that, eventually, even the strongest of hearts, the purest of pure, could be coaxed into the embrace of the night.

you furrow your brows, and you can't help but feel such tension as your wings twitched. you wanted to resist. this seems all too much, all for someone you just met. it was never too late to draw yourself from the temptation that 'shuji' presents, but he was right. you have always been a curious little thing. you longed to know. you longed the offer.

"i don't know, i don't think.." you say softly, fidgeting your fingers as you look down at your feet. the night air hung heavy with the darkness of the starry sky pressing in with a strange tangible weight.

"aww, it's alright. you don't have to decide anything right now, sweetheart," he murmurs, his tone of voice a soothing balm to your conflicted emotions, "it's natural to feel hesitant to delve deep into the unknown.. i should know."

you look up at him, your eyes meeting his for a brief second before pulling away, the intensity of his gaze too much to take. he reaches a hand, not to touch, but to give, a sign of silent understanding of your turmoil.

"would you like some company instead?" he asks gently, his words wrapping around you like a warm embrace, "you don't have to agree to anything beyond that. how about it?"

such a strange man, but persistent. your fingers halting their anxious dance at the prospect of companionship. however, a part of you remains apprehensive, aware of the perils of his charm and the tempting draw of his words.

seeing your hesitancy, 'shuji' softens his gaze even more, his face one of genuine concern. "it's just for now."

and he promises you with a smile that masks a hidden intention, "no commitments, no decisions. just two souls sharing a moment in the quiet of the night. we can talk, or sit in silence, whatever brings you peace, sweetheart."

a part of you yearns for the peace his presence appears to offer, the comfort of another's company in the middle of your turmoil. you lift your gaze to meet his again, looking for any hint of deception, any trace of the manipulative charm you fear.

but all you see is patience, an invitation without pressure, a promise of understanding with no strings attached. you take a deep breath, feeling the weight of your uncertainty lift just a little.

"okay, but just for a short while.." you say quietly, barely audible.

thus, his smile widens at your acceptance, and for a brief moment, his little facade almost crumbles at the thought of effectively persuading you. just a little more, he thinks to himself. it was only a matter of time before he received what he desired from you.

after all, he was already drawn to you.

he extends his hand to you. you stare at his hand for a moment before placing your hand in his, sensing the warmth of his touch. you stroll in silence, the route lit by the faint glow of starlight and the distant sounds of night birds.

when you follow him, the land surrounding slowly vanishes that hums with a distinct eerie force. he pauses and returns your gaze with a comforting smile, "trust me," he adds quietly, his eyes showing a mix of eagerness and affection.

taking a deep breath, you nod and allow him to lead you, and before you know it, the world swirls around you, but when the swirling light fades, you find yourself standing on the outskirts of a peaceful, terrestrial scene.

the air is crisp and fresh, with a subtle aroma of budding flowers and earthy tones from a neighboring forest. the sky above is a deep, velvety blue, speckled with stars that appear close enough to touch, and a leisurely river flows through the landscape, its surface like a plethora of small diamonds in the moonlight.

he walks you to a grassy knoll that overlooks the river. the ground beneath your feet is soft and welcoming, making it the ideal place to relax and enjoy the scenery.

he sits down and motions for you to join him. as you lower yourself to the ground, a sense of calm comes over you.

"this place," he says, "is a hidden gem on earth. far from the heavens, yet it holds its own kind of magic.”

you gaze around, taking in the soft sway of the trees, the rhythmic murmur of the river, and the peaceful symphony of the night creatures. it's a spot that feels both unspoiled and ageless, a haven where the stresses of the world appear to fade away.

you close your eyes and let the sounds of nature wash over you. the subtle rustle of leaves, the sweet crooning of faraway night birds, and the flow of the river all combine to form a lovely lullaby, and you sense his presence beside you as a steady, comforting anchor.

after a while, you open your eyes to look at him. "this place is beautiful. every bit of this just reminds me of how lovely the earth may be, just as it is above."

he grins at your naive yet honest comments as you continue to speak, "i can't help but wonder, your majesty," you say now, giggling now as you are more relaxed, as you address him as such since he names himself the king of secret loves.

"wonder about what? what's going on inside that pretty little head of yours?" he muses you.

"you seem to know a lot of things. you even know about fallen angels.." you mutter quietly now, recalling his words earlier, his offer to you, "but i suppose it's only natural. you do call yourself a king of secret loves, and a king does know a lot, for a king carries both a crown and a burden after all."

you fiddle with the hem of the white dress hugging your body as you look at him, asking him the very same thing you question in regards to the gods and celestials above, "but do tell me, shuji. is not everyone deserving of grace? a second chance at forgiveness?"

'shuji's' gaze darkens for a brief moment as he contemplates your thoughts. he shifts slightly, turning to face you more directly, his stare incisive but compassionate. he bites his lip for a brief moment before he speaks his truth.

he says slowly, as if weighing his words carefully, "forgiveness, it is a complex thing. it's not just something that can be given or taken; it has to be earned, understood, and sometimes even fought for."

he pauses, gazing up at the starlit, night sky, as if he was looking for answers in the distant lights just like you, "i have seen those who have fallen, who have made mistakes, and who have sought redemption.. so if you ask me, my dear, the path to forgiveness is not always certain."

your eyes widen at his words, every word hitting a deep part of your heart. you lean in closer to him, your interest peaked as you can't help but question him," do you speak from experience? have you ever known someone who has walked that path?"

a shadow covers his face, momentarily yet noticeable. he returns his smile to you, albeit with a trace of melancholy, "hmm, perhaps you can say that? hah, we all have secrets and burdens to bear.."

"one thing is certain though," he says, reaching out to you once more, his fingers brushing against yours, "we are all searching for our own paths to grace. after all, we all long for grace. do we not?"

"that's true," you nod slowly at his words, finding solace in them.

however, his fingers tighten around yours, his voice tinged with longingness, "but sometimes, it is not all we long for. sometimes, we all long for something else.."

your eyes widen once more as you lock eyes with him, seeing an intensity of emotions in them, a depth you've never seen before in those brown eyes of his.

he pulls you closer to him, his touch firm yet gentle as if he was handling such a delicate flower, afraid to let it go or wither away. your body presses against his, and he feels warm.

"stay the night with me, pretty archangel," he whispers to you in such a way that sends a shiver down your spine, "just for tonight."

you feel your heart race, the closeness of his body against yours was making you acutely aware of every sensation. the warmth of his hand and breath mingling with the night air, and the longing in his eyes, a silent plea that tugs something within you.

"but, why?" you ask softly, blinking in confusion.

"because i long for you, dear," there it was again, the seduction in his voice, the honeyed tone he used on you before when he made you an offer, and this time it was filled with naked honesty.

you experience a plethora of emotions within you, including dread, exhilaration, and.. a strange yet evident attraction to him, but you hesitate nonetheless at this second, other offer he asks of you.

he reaches up, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear as he reassures you, luring you in secret, "come on, sweetheart. just for tonight. i won't keep you for too long.."

there was a deep yearning in his eyes that mirrors your own, and this time you were unable to turn away from the temptation this offer unlike earlier. slowly, you nod your head, allowing yourself to lean into the moment, into him.

"okay, just for tonight.." you mutter softly, finally giving in.

he pulls you in closer, almost wrapping his arm over you, almost too possessively, and the next thing you know, he's guiding you somewhere more private, away from the outside world.

he walks you to a much darker, almost secluded path. it was as if the scenery was shifting again into something else again. the stars above appear to dim, their light absorbed by the dense canopy of trees.

the air becomes cooler, and a sense of gloom permeates the night's peacefulness. eventually, you come across a concealed cabin, its shadowy silhouette just apparent in the darkness.

he opens the door for you, his movements deliberate and controlled, and ushers you inside, almost desperately.

the room is dimly illuminated, with the flickering fire creating long, dancing shadows on the walls. he leads you to a massive, imposing bed, with dark sheets and heavy blankets that nearly swallow you whole. you sit down, feeling the smooth, enveloping fabric under you, as 'shuji' stands nearby, his presence looming and intense.

you look around, the shadows appearing to close in around you. there's an inescapable intimacy here, a refuge from the world but also a trap from which there's no way out.

and he looks at you with triumphant eyes, as if he has finally found what he has been looking for.

he reaches out, his grip solid, and grabs your hand in his, "you have no idea just how glad i am to have you here."

his voice was possessive as he looks at you with the same longing from earlier, "having you right where i want you... it's what i long for."

you look at him with a mix of fear and excitement in your eyes. the moment has an electric intensity to it, as if it were a dream on the verge of becoming a nightmare.

the look in his intensifies as he leans into you, his warm breath up against your skin. without warning, he suddenly pulls you down onto the bed with him in one swift moment that you barely had time to react as your wings twitch and flap in surprise behind you.

he grips you tightly with the same possessiveness as you feel his body press against yours, and this time the look in his eyes was almost predatory. he stares down your delicate face, from your [color] eyes to your form, just as he had when he first lay eyes on you, this time relishing the moment even more because he was so close to you.

his fingers trace goosebumps on your arm as the air between you and him now cackles with an unspoken tension, with an unbearable anticipation, especially for him.

and so, with a sudden decisive movement, he tilts your chin up to him and he presses his lips against yours, and it was a fierce and possessive kiss that leaves you breathless, yet breathlessly wanting more.

the outside world fades away as he claims your lips, leaving you with the mere sensation of his lips and body pressing against yours. he tightens his grip around you as you let out a soft whine, but you do not let go or even struggle against him at all.

instead, you find your fingers entangling themselves in his messy locks of brown hair as he kisses you with such need, as if he's imprinting himself on you.

you feel the roughness of his breath and the urgency in his touch as his arms envelop you like promise and a warning, and it was overwhelming your senses.

after a brief moment, he pulls away from your lips, ragged gasps for air escaping his breath, but he doesn't let go. he's never letting you go. his hold on you was firm as ever and you can see the satisfaction in his eyes, taking dark pleasure in having you like this, at this very moment, completely and utterly his.

"stay with me, alright? let me have you, sweetheart," he murmurs against your lips.

you slowly nod your head, unable to find your voice as you lose yourself in his intense gaze and the sensation of his kiss, and as he leans in to capture your lips in another kiss, you know that tonight, you're his.

and then, with a dark glint in his eyes, he suddenly says, "call me osamu."

the name sends a shock through you, causing you to pale. osamu. the same name as the fallen angel you had been warned about, dazai osamu. your heart pounds against your chest at the realization, hitting you like a bolt of lightning, and finally, you see it. the flicker in his eyes, behind the tender facade he had been holding.

"osamu?" your voice trembles at the utter of his name.

he smiles a knowing smile towards you, "yes, osamu. call me osamu."

the unspoken truth hangs heavy in the air. the man holding you was no ordinary being. he was no king. he was no mere mortal. this man, he used to be an angel of the highest grade. he's the fallen angel you heard of, the one who had been cast out of heaven, and now he was the one who craves to touch you.

osamu brushes his fingers against your cheek in a gentle touch, "i told you earlier, didn’t i? you shouldn't be afraid. i'm not even here to hurt you at all, my beautiful archangel."

your mind and heart became in conflict with one another, but your body responds to his presence, the same way this fallen angel was drawn to your embrace. and besides, didn’t you think so yourself? everybody is worthy of love and grace. even if it was dazai osamu..

so, this was alright. it should be.

"then, what do you want from me?" you ask softly.

"i just want to be with you." he whispers before kissing you again, and his name echoes in your mind, sweeping you with a dark allure.

"i long for you, [name]."

𝐀.𝐍. ⊹ 𓂃 ₊ it's been a long while since i've written anything, so consider this as my comeback stage after being beaten up by my major, so i'm glad to have finally published the first chapter of my latest series, wahoo <3 <3

𝐏.𝐒. ⊹ 𓂃 ₊ osamu disguising himself as shuji was on purpose. it's a reference to the real dazai osamu's name, shuji tsushima. i also took some lines from the inspo/reference of this fic from the poem of eloa, from the second song/stanza. the next part of his chapter is just gonna be some smut, so feel free to skip it. okay? okay !

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ⊹ 𓂃 ₊ @little-miss-chaoss @anonymousewrites @chaiifluuf @sosograndii @anqelically @blueberrisdove @cheriiyaya @avocate-assia-dazai @yushiba-tsukyoh @cupidszvlvr @snowsilver2000 @cvidy @dummytwo @kissesmellow21 @angelofdarkness2 @muichirolover23 @milky-aeons @pompompurin1028 @pe4rl-diver @dzaisamou @iloveemiatas @kentopedia @aureatchi @its-vante @haesify @fyorina @atlasnessie

#bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #bungo stray dogs x y/n #dazai x y/n #dazai x you #dazai x fem reader #bsd dazai #dazai osamu x you #dazai osamu x y/n #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bsd imagines #bsd fanfic #bungo stray dogs dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai

282 notes · View notes