#The girls can have a cozy cottagecore room

[pushing500]

Today there was a spectacular space battle over Parish-by-the-Expanse, so our cultists were looking forward to some fresh meat and potential new recruits.

These two survivors in particular caught my eye, so we'll start trying to convert them ASAP.

Euclid is a genie with level 17 crafting skill, which we need to craft a new leg for Socks so she's not stuck with the peg leg anymore.

Magic Man is a Drakonori and, I'll be honest, I didn't even look at his skills or traits. His name is Magic Man, and he looks like fun to draw, so he's staying whether he likes it or not.

Laursen put his skills to good work making a new bed for Cecil, who I'm sure will appreciate the effort.

And finally, I wanted to show off the girls' new bedroom because I'm quite proud of how it turned out. You can even see Cecil's masterwork human-leather bed in the bottom left, next to Salvatore's human-leather cat tree!

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[eliteseven]

Please can we get some autumn headcanon for Shadowheart in her cottage?

Aww sure! 🥰 idk if these are specific to autumn per se but they are cozy!

Some Shadowheart Cottagecore

🍁Autumn🍁 HC’s:

-The animals playing in falling leaves! Big trio of Buttons, Owlbear, and Scratch taking turns jumping and zooming between stacks of raked leaves. Shadowheart watches with such delight, until Tav yanks her into a pile herself. She laughs with such childlike delight, and it makes Tav’s heart sing, bc she deserved this happiness her entire life 🥺💕 so she takes it upon herself to be the one to give it to her. They play in the leaves like children. Arnell and Emmeline get emotional watching from afar.

-Shadowheart enjoys cuddling with Daphne in the warmth of the barn (they give her some extra bedding for the cold) and all the animals like to cuddle up beside them 🥹 they probably make some blankets and maybe even sweaters for their animal crew, too.

-Hot cider! Spiced wine! Warm drinks that get them pleasantly buzzed and swaying together on those cool autumn nights. Shadowheart getting tipsy and her boisterous laughter making Tav feel warmer than any fire ever could

-Shadowheart likes watching Tav cut firewood. Something about her girl working up a sweat and those arms holding an axe…. 🥵 but lbr Tav enjoys watching Shads doing the same things so they’re probably splitting the duties fairly 😅

-Well, we have to talk about their crops, right? It would be harvest time! Arnell, Emmeline, Tav, Shads, and a legion of animals in their gardens, reaping the benefits of a fruitful season! Plus food storage for all these crops- they’ll have their hands full! But it’s rewarding ☺️

-also: sharing their surplus harvest with the local families/kids? Shadowheart and Tav getting hardcore baby fever when they host a little dinner at their place for their closest neighbors? Shadowheart especially warming up to the idea that the kids love her??? 😭

-colder weather means warmer clothes and Emmeline’s scarves!!! They buy a lot of their clothes from the city but Emmeline takes so much pride in feeling useful 🥹💕idc if ugly sweaters don’t exist here, they do now! She makes matching ones for Tav and Shads.

-staying in bed longer bc it’s cold out 🥰 reading books, talking, just cuddling together under the furs. Shadowheart increasingly likes the animals on the bed the colder it gets. There is no room for Tav to move even an inch. She looks at Shadowheart’s absolute grin as she’s buried under a mountain of fluff and she wouldn’t trade it for the world.

-bringing each other tea on particularly chilly days and stealing each other away from chores for a moment of peace 🥹

- this is a bit wintery but the lake freezing over? Something in my heart tells me Shadowheart would be SO graceful in whatever the BG3 equivalent of ice skating is. Gliding so gracefully over a frozen body of water, the same kind that used to terrify her? While Tav does her best impression of a slipping and sliding baby deer? 🥹😭 she’d be so proud. And when baby Jen comes? Oh, the three of them would simply have the best time together.

[toxicnotebook]

Rating home library ideas from home decorating websites

Okay, here’s the thing: when I was designing a wallpaper for home libraries, I had to look at a lot- and I mean a LOT- of home decorating sites.There were quite a few interesting home libraries, both good and bad. And a few that were downright evil.

I set aside some of the ones I found noteworthy, and now I finally have time to write this post. We’ll start with a classic:

It’s cozy, there’s a comfy patterned chair, it’s using a small space in a smart way, it has a nice lamp and a small succulent. The modern reading nook summed up in one image, and it’s actually achievable for most homes. 7/10

This is, perhaps, a bit too cozy. Leaning a bit on the claustrophobic side if I’m being honest. But it makes good use of a very awkward space, and I do love me some fairy lights.

The top shelf above the window is a bit too high up for easy access though. 6/10

Oh this is just lovely. Does give off a used bookstore vibe, but that’s a plus for me! 8/10

Why does feel more claustrophobic than the one in the skinny ass hallway. It feels like the books are holding their breath to fit in that bookcase. Hate it. Nice color though! 4/10

In contrast, this moderate bookcase feels far larger and airier than it actually is! I do love the decor spots, although I hope the shelves are modular so one could, in theory, add more shelves for more books. Like I just wanna pop another shelf above the glass ball and jam some paperbacks there. But that might be a me problem. 8/10

Girl. This is just mostly air, not airy. Why even bother installing a custom mounted metal shelving unit when you have barely anything to put on it? What an absolute waste of space and money.

Also stacking your books in those small aesthetic piles will make it a bitch to find any specific book, good luck with that. 3/10

Fuck me, the multiple little pile of books on a shelf is a fucking trend. Like WHY would you do this on functional shelves like those? Books piled on a table makes sense. Books placed horizontally on a shelf they are too tall for makes sense. This? This makes no sense. You’re just making it harder to find & take the books off the shelves, AND you’re wasting space. Arrrrrhfhfghgh. 2/10

Ahhhhhh. Much better. Cottagecore girlies, this one’s for you! 9/10

So I live in an area VERY prone to earthquakes, and everything about this image sets off my anxiety. Floating shelves in general are iffy for earthquakes, but the large ones are especially prone to just...falling off the wall when things get moderately shaky.

Add in the large, heavy books on EVERY shelf, the absolute height of the unit, the fact the shelves are polished metal, AND all the books are right on the edge of the shelves....yeah. No thanks. 2/10 don’t wanna be brained by books

WHAT DID I JUST SAY ABOUT EARTHQUAKE SAFETY. The old bookshelf wasn’t the best, but it wasn’t holding up pounds of books with just some bolts embedded in sheet rock and studs! AND GET SOME DIVIDERS. OR BOOKENDS. 1/10

Or something like this, perhaps! Large, roomy, and the spaces are generous enough that it can accommodate taller books. Still don’t like those little piles, but here it’s not as bothersome. This feels like a library that’s well-loved. 9/10 slightly too tall for me though

I hope you don’t have kids or pets, because all your books are coming down when this shelf gets hit with a moderate bump. 3/10 gives waiting room vibes

Good use of an awkward space, a nice chair, and while they did use floating shelves, these ones aren’t overloaded or crazy high on the wall. Wish the top shelf only had paperbacks, though. 5/10

This is just stupid. 2/10 points for whimsy

I’m a short bitch, so I love me an extravagant home library with a built in ladder. The perfect combo of maximum space use and ease of access! 10/10

Unless, of course, the ladder looks like it’s made of balsa wood or is otherwise completely USELESS. 0/10

What a perfect little nook. 10/10

Man, I really wanna love this, but the odd-sized shelf above the built in sofa knock a few points off for me. Maybe if the staging stylist had put in mass market paperbacks instead of regular books it would make more sense. Great view though! 7/10

YES. HELL YES. I love me a staircase library! Perfect combo of class, coziness, and space useage! 11/10

AAAAA THIS ONE IS EVEN BETTER- wait why are the books like that

wait

wait

THIS? THIS IS A FUCKING TREND??? YOU CAN’T STAND ANYTHING BREAKING YOUR PRECIOUS NEUTRAL COLOR SCHEME SO YOU TURN YOUR BOOKS AROUND? DO YOU SIMPLY NOT WANT TO FIND ANY TITLE EVER AGAIN? DO YOUR SENSES COMPLETELY SHUT DOWN AT ANY HINT OF SATURATION? GET A FUCKING E-READER IF YOU CAN’T HANDLE THE IDEA OF BOOK SPINES!

Anyways. -2/10

Ahhh. Much better. Good use of an old phone nook, and you could add those raw wood shelves yourself. And look! You can have a neutral palette AND a home library without making it impossible to find a book! Who would have thought. 9/10

These types of shelves look cool, but are just hard to use in any useful way. Your books are going to be constantly flopping over. 3/10

Oh this is just prime coziness. Can you imagine reading in one of those squishy chairs on a rainy day? I’m starting to relax just from thinking about it. 10/10 someone get me a hot cocoa

I know these types of built-in shelves are popular, but man it would be such a pain in the ass to get any of the books from the top shelves. It just feels like these types of libraries are there for aesthetic purposes, not everyday use. 5/10 they do look cool at least

Well. At least there’s a ladder. 3/10 TOO TALL TOO TALL

This appeals to my Goth sensibilities. 9/10 gimme that chandelier

Those giant words feel like a threat. Is this library about to fight me? 3/10 hate the vibes

This REALLY appeals to my Goth sensibilities. 10/10 RAVENS!!

My opinion on this rests entirely on whether or not there are books behind the painting, because if I had to take down a giant ass portrait every time I wanted to read idk Witches Abroad I would be. Hmm. Cranky! Schrodinger’s books/10

Another excellent use of a weird space, and you could add those shelves yourself! 8/10

This is...extremely off-putting, but I’m not sure why 3/10 kinda getting fire hazard vibes tbh

If I walk into your home and I see this, I immediately know you don’t actually read those books. No book reader is gonna jam their books into a FIREPLACE- hope you closed it up, by the way, otherwise good luck when it rains- in a Tetris-like configuration with no way to see the titles. Every time you try to take a book out you’ll have to shove a bunch of books around and hope they don’t fall out in a giant pile you’ll have to carefully put back in your aesthetic little configuration of nonsense. Home library my ass. Be honest to yourself and call it what it is- an art installation on the cheap. 0/10

Oh I adore this. First off, perfect use of a weird alcove space. Second, the cushy pillows and warm lights just ooze cozy comfort. I can easily see myself flopping over the pillows with a thick book and hot tea. 12/10

Sooo, if I want to take out a book I’ll have to worry about knocking over my entire collection if I go a little too quickly or take out more than one? PASS. 1/10 point for the rainbow I guess

MAN, this just hits my maximalist sensibilities in the right places. The light fixtures, the absolute maximum use of space but still keeping everything within reach, and the bright yellow/deep teal color scheme. There are piles of books on the floor, but since I had my own floor pile during the bookstore days I can’t judge. Absolute perfection. 14/10 maybe put a rail on that stair shaped bookcase, you know someone’s gonna try it

NO

NO

NO

HAVE YOU NO OTHER THOUGHTS IN YOUR BRAIN OTHER THAN YOUR ROMANTIC AESTHETICS? HAVE YOU NO SENSE OF PRACTICALITY? EVERY TIME YOU BATHE, YOUR BOOKS WILL COLLECT MOISTURE AND TRAP IT. THEY WILL NEVER TRULY DRY IN THAT LITTLE ISOLATED CUBBY HOLE OF A TUB. EACH DIP, EACH INDULGENT SOAK WILL NURTURE A BREEDING GROUND FOR SOME OF THE WORST THINGS YOU CAN BREATHE IN. AND WHEN YOU ARE HACKING OUT YOUR SPORE FILLED LUNGS, YOU WILL HAVE NO ONE TO BLAME BUT YOURSELF. Or maybe your designer. In that case, -100/10 FIRE YOUR INTERIOR DESIGNER

Sources:

https://www.thepioneerwoman.com/home-lifestyle/decorating-ideas/g32701104/home-library-ideas/

https://onekindesign.com/2013/08/02/50-jaw-dropping-home-library-design-ideas/

https://www.thespruce.com/home-library-design-ideas-4129190

https://www.mydomaine.com/home-library-ideas-5086793

https://www.homesandgardens.com/interior-design/small-home-library-ideas

https://www.housebeautiful.com/room-decorating/home-library-office/g696/designer-libraries/

https://www.architecturaldigest.com/gallery/home-libraries-slideshow

[cherryrainn]

Hello! I have a little request for your oneshot book^^

Onceler x female reader;

( I'm so sorry if this seems like a lot,you don't have to write this if you don't want to )

Y/n is dating the Onceler and She's out with Isabella ( his mother ) when they come back Y/n is not acting like her usual self ( She has a cottagecore aesthetic in this one )

When she went out for coffee with his mother ( with espresso),she becomes hyperactive and will speak in a somewhat rushed tone,her hair is a little messy, she's jumpy and has a tendency to pace back and forth.( while spewing out some history stuff like the titanic for example)

After that Y/n kinda passes out from the espresso ( she's alright after that )

cute! thank you!

☽ ༚  ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰  ༵ ༚ ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰ 

— a caffeinated heart

onceler x fem reader

the sun was just beginning to set, casting a warm, golden glow over the place as you and isabella strolled back to the onceler's house. you had spent the afternoon with his mother, hoping to get to know her better and bond over shared interests. as you stepped inside, you couldn't help but feel a little jittery, a caffeine-induced excitement buzzing within you.

"thank you for the coffee, isabella," you chirped, your voice slightly rushed as you fiddled with a strand of your messy hair. "espresso always gets me going, you know? actually, i've read that the titanic—"

before you could finish your sentence, you realized you were already pacing back and forth in the living room, your words spewing out like a waterfall. your aesthetic, with its flowy dress and flower crown, seemed to match your bubbly energy perfectly.

isabella raised an eyebrow, a sly smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "oh, my dear, i can see that espresso really has an effect on you. such a passionate little thing, aren't you?"

you beamed, completely unaware of her underlying manipulative tone. "oh, absolutely! i just can't help it. coffee is like a key that unlocks a whole treasure trove of fascinating facts and stories!"

as you continued to prattle on about coffee history, the titanic, and various other quirky topics, isabella watched with amusement, her eyes glinting with mischief. she had always been a master at manipulating situations to her advantage, and she sensed an opportunity to toy with you.

"y/n, dear," she said in a sugary-sweet tone, "i must say, you seem quite enamored with oncie. are you sure he's not overwhelmed by your... enthusiasm?"

you froze mid-pace, your heart skipping a beat. "oh, well, i hope not! i just want him to be happy, you know? and i'm so grateful to have him in my life."

isabella's smile widened, but her eyes remained cold. "you're quite different from the girls he used to bring home. it's sweet, in a way." she lied, she knew damn well onceler didn't bring home any girls.

suddenly, you felt a little lightheaded. the espresso's effects were catching up to you, and the rapid pace of your thoughts began to blur together. "oh, i, um, thank you, i guess. i... i just want to be genuine."

with a mischievous glint, isabella offered you a glass of water, pretending to be concerned. "why don't you sit down, dear? you seem a bit overwhelmed. wouldn't want to tire yourself out."

as you obediently took a sip of water, you felt yourself calming down slightly. but before you knew it, the caffeine rush was catching up with you, and you found it increasingly hard to keep your eyes open.

the next thing you knew, you were waking up in onceler's cozy living room, blinking groggily up at him as he leaned over you with a worried expression.

"y/n, are you alright? what happened?" he asked, concern lacing his voice.

you sat up slowly, rubbing your temples. "i think... i might have overdone it with the espresso. but i'm okay now, I think."

onceler chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "you really had a lot of energy earlier. i've never seen you so hyperactive!"

you blushed, feeling a mix of embarrassment and relief. "i guess i got carried away with all the caffeine. but spending time with your mother was really nice, despite feeling like a walking coffee bean."

he laughed, pulling you into a warm hug. "i'm glad you had fun. my mom can be a handful, but i'm happy you're getting to know her."

[our-magical-world]

REALITY SHIFTING 30 DAY CHALLENGE

~ DAY 7 ~

CAN YOU TELL US ABOUT SOME OF YOUR DRs?

I'm actually doing some DR introduction posts, so I'll link to the ones I have for more info, but here is a short summary (for some of them I also have a longer explanation in my rare DRs post).

♥ My fantasy DR ♥ I'm a warrior in a fantasy world heavily inspired by Middle Earth, but with elements from all my favorite fantasy worlds. I travel with a group of heroes on a quest to save the world from evil.

♥ My waiting room ♥ It's a magical forest with cottagecore and fairytale vibes, there is a glade with a cozy cottage, magical creatures and portals that lead to my different DRs.

♥ Boku no Hero Academia ♥ I'm a student at UA and a member of class 1-A. My quirk is mirror skin, I can turn my body into a reflecting surface like a mirror. I love singing and fairycore style clothes and accessories.

♥ Dragon Quest: Dai no Daibouken ♥ Avan is my comfort character so I'm shifting to be one of his disciples. I go to Dermline with him and train with Popp and Dai, who become like brothers to me. I take the warrior course.

♥ Dragon Quest: Yuusha Avan ♥ I'm princess Flora's personal maid. I'm a minstrel and a decent fighter (an archer) so the king hired me as a sort of lady in waiting, music teacher and bodyguard in disguise for his daughter.

♥ Ace Attorney ♥ I come from a family of musicians, but for some reason I decided to study Law and start an internship as Edgeworth's assistant. After Edgeworth disappears, I end up working as Phoenix's assistant.

♥ Fire Emblem 7 ♥ I'm the tactician and everything is basically like the game, Lyn finds me unconscious and I join her and help her army with my strategy skills. After the adventure I'm planning to stay in Caelin with her.

♥ Black Clover ♥ I'm a member of the Crimson Lion Kings and use fire magic. Born a commoner, but my mother married a nobleman later on. Some nobles were not happy.

♥ Prince of Tennis ♥ I'm a student at Seigaku and just a normal girl who loves tennis. I'm thinking about becoming the team manager or something so I have an excuse to spend time with the tennis club boys.

♥ Hogwarts ♥ I have a DR where I'm the substitute Herbology teacher and a Marauders era DR where I'm a student. I'm a Hufflepuff.

[devil-doll13]

Summer Breeze

Ciarán x cottagecore!Reader

Tw: mostly Fluff and a lil bit of Smut at the end, mostly a collection of drabbles rather than a connected story, this is mostly just an excuse for me to ✨simp✨ for Ciarán so there isn’t much of an actual plot lol enjoy

Based off of this post I did a month ago or so

Word Count: 4078

Summary: While minding your own business in the cottage you’ve inherited from a relative, you catch the eye of an ancient, mysterious being…

Dividers by firefly-graphics

Life certainly doesn’t get any better than this.

The sun is shining, bright and cheerful, as you dander up the road towards your modest home. You can’t grow strawberries in this temperate climate, but you can certainly buy them; it’s only about a 15 minute walk from the village and back.

That’s not so bad, you think, admiring the Irish countryside that surrounds you. Verdant green, rolling hills, filled with fluffy sheep and lazy brown cows. You hear the telltale clip-clop of hooves behind you and turn around to see a ruddy-faced, smiley rider on a dappled stallion. You wave at them, grinning back, and you are allowed to pat their horse’s nose. He eagerly snuffles into your hand, searching for treats, nudging you as you giggle.

Once you’re back at the cottage, you clasp shut the white gate behind you and make a beeline to your kitchen, sweeping off your hat and depositing your groceries on the counter. It’s overflowing with jam jars and fruit bowls, a veritable cornucopia. Once you’re done putting away the food, you pad shoeless into the cozy living room and enjoy the sensation of the furry rug beneath your feet. This room is packed wall-to-wall with old, retro armchairs and your blanketed sofa, and crammed in between them is your sole, lonesome bookshelf. A small television sits off in the corner, a relic from decades past.

The Summer afternoon glows sweet and yellow through your windows, melting into your floral wallpaper like honey. It’s dinnertime by now, for both you and your feathered friends; you step out of your back door and cheerfully greet your chickens outside, watching your girls strutting and clucking as you scatter feed on the ground.

“Now, Bertha… Let Milly have some. You need to share!” You scold. Bertha has been hogging the feed again, believing her size and status to be superior.

After you eat, you crack open the book you’ve been putting off reading and curl up on your pillows. You feel good today. It’s peaceful here, not like the frenzied bustle of the city or the social competition of the suburbs, where all your nosy neighbours are desperate to spy on you. You’re grateful that your relative decided to leave you this place in their will instead of someone else in the family.

Outside, you hear the clip-clop of hooves again, thudding on the grass in a canter.

“It’s so late…” You yawn. “Who could be up riding at this hour?”

Stretching, you wander over to your curtains, peering out at the moonlit night. Silver fog has swallowed up the mountains, hanging over the lands like a dewy wedding veil. You blame the way it appears to shimmer on your drowsy sleepless state. Things always seem strange here late at night, and in the back of your mind you remember the myths and fairytales you were told as a child. It’s as if there’s an ancient magic here, untouched by the rapacious grip of human civilisation.

Then you see him. At first, you do not believe your own eyes; but this sight cannot be blinked away. In the quiet, blooming meadows, silent and as if in awe, stands a figure on a strong, black horse. The glimmer of the mist conceals his upper body, but you still can see his sharp, pointed sabatons resting in the stirrups. This is no farmer.

It seems he senses your gaze, and he and his mount turn to face you. Your heart almost stops. For wonder or for terror, you do not know which. Only you are frozen, unable to move. It is only when he pulls back and gallops away into the night that your paralysis gives way, and the fog lifts too, revealing only the milky white flowers of the field, bathed in the moonlight. You gasp for air, feeling as if you’ve been doused with a bucket full of ice water. This brush with what you believe to be the Supernatural does not soon leave you, but engraves itself deep within your mind.

That night, you dream of him, still hidden by shimmering mist.

In the days that follow, you feel a presence follow you on your afternoon walks and your visits to the village. Curiously, you do not feel unnerved, but instead when you leave the local pub late at night, it seems an invisible aura of protection wards off all danger. In the most outlandishly wee hours of the morning, too, you hear the pounding of hooves and whinnies and snorts, and no longer do you fear that a fox in the night will gobble up your beloved chickens or that a burglar will invade your home for fear of crossing him.

You are now quite convinced that this mysterious entity has been watching over you, keeping you safe like some dark guardian angel. How you caught this being’s eye, you have no idea, but you know rightly not to take it for granted. You’ve been taught to respect these lands and all the creatures that still live within them. Often you leave a basket of sweet fruit and bread or homemade brownies outside your door, and in the morning you find in return a bunch of carefully arranged flowers or precious minerals left in its place. This alone confirms your theory, and you can’t help but feel positively giddy at the idea of befriending a fae. Any scepticism you once had is long gone.

Now unafraid of threats in the night, you embark on nightly wanderings across the foggy moors, hoping to catch a glimpse of him again. Your mind has begun to fabricate all sorts of strange tales and explanations for him being here; for why he favours you.

But you want the truth. And on one of these late night walks, you see him again.

You’re certain that if he didn’t want you to, he could’ve hidden himself from you forever. Now, he chooses to reveal himself. All the air leaves your lungs as you see him looming over you on his horse, and you now realise he lacks a head. A wispy blue light flickers on his neck, hissing like a furnace. Before you, the fog draws back like curtains on a stage play, and you are his speechless audience.

He dismounts, and you find yourself drawn towards him. You’ve heard of such a figure in folklore, but never could you have anticipated the true grandeur of his presence. Like some kind of mythic royalty, he exudes a kind of unearthly majesty. You can’t help but feel a little intimidated by him, even though you have been anticipating this meeting for weeks.

It strikes you then that all the offerings of food you’ve given to him were probably worthless. The way his mare nudges your hand tells you that she probably enjoyed your apples, though. You turn back to look at him. He’s watching you, and though he has no eyes, he beholds you with such an intensity that it makes you shy away from him.

“Who are you?” Your voice echoes into the dark. “Um… Could I know your name?” It is difficult not to feel meek, dwarfed by this otherworldly knight.

You don’t expect a verbal answer, and barely even hope for one at all. But soon he extends his black, gauntleted hand and in his palm you see a smooth, carved stone. You take it, lips twitching in amusement. He even gives you a small, polite bow. It’s like he’s giving you his business card.

“Thankyou.” You beam up at him and gladly tell him your own, and you are pleased to see the flame on his neck flare in response. You hope that means something good.

It surprises you that night how readily he is able to answer your questions, as if he’s been expecting all of them. Without words or expression, it requires some interpretation on your end, but you manage. The night grows late and you receive a first tentative horse riding lesson; though you spend much of it nervous and watchful of the great distance between you and the pitch black ground below. A steady arm winds around your stomach and holds you fast against a cool, solid metal cuirass. Now you start to allow tension to leave your body and trust in your companion. You feel in your heart that he would not let you fall or come to harm.

He returns you home far faster than you would’ve liked. You find that you enjoy being close to him, held fast by strong arms. It is this stubborn little thought that makes your face feel hot as he helps you back down. The cracks of dawn, softly orange and warm, are already peeking up from the horizon. You wonder in the back of your mind if this is why he must leave you now. Considering his sluggish movements, he seems as reluctant to part with you as you are.

“Goodbye!” You wave a farewell to him, and he draws up on his magnificent horse as she whinnies, galloping off into the darkness.

When you return to your cottage that night, you feel so sleepy you collapse on your sofa, dizzy.

After this encounter, it’s hard to believe that your life will go back to normal. Everything seems different now, cast in a new light.

You don’t go searching for him again right away, but you’re aware of his gloomy, stalwart presence shadowing you. You stop leaving him food, convinced he’ll find it useless; you’re eager to keep him interested, hoping that he’ll continue hovering curiously around you. This does not stop him from continuing to give gifts to you, something you find out one night you almost stumble over a bundle of oddly made spades on your way to your little garden; they feel so light and well-adjusted to your hands. When you discover them, you feel a sense of relief wash over you, and bashful glee. Not because you’re materialistic, but because you’re beginning to nurse what you thought were foolish hopes. To think that he might return your growing interest, that he sees you as more than simply a trifling amusement to waste his plentiful time on.

Those tools were exactly what you needed after all: you had just very recently broken your old spade.

To your delight, he grows progressively bolder, and one evening while you’re trying to pry Bertha off the others’ shares of chicken feed, you sight him lurking on the horizon, watching over you in the dimming light of the sundown. This encounter sends a happy thrill through you, and motivates you again to learn more about him. Either one of you needs to break the proverbial ice, and considering your mortal lifespan, you don’t want to sit around just waiting for him to do it.

Unfortunately, you don’t crack the code on the rock he’s given you for days. It takes some fair effort to translate, as well as several visits to the local library and several dives down internet rabbit holes, and even then you suspect he has tried his best to communicate with you. But this language was ancient, older than your most distant ancestors. You hold it in your hands and it thrums with power, pulsing like a heartbeat.

“Ciarán…” You murmur under the lamplight, studying the runes engraved in the stone. They are tiny, chicken scratch etchings that make your head hurt when you look at them; perhaps not entirely due to eye strain. “And… Gorm… Laith…” In your mind swim many forgotten Irish pronunciation lessons, and it takes another google search for you to feel confident enough to address him by his name the next time you meet.

“That’s your name, right? That’s what you were trying to tell me?” You ask him. Again, he looms over you, his armoured figure almost melting into the darkness.

The icy glow of his neck-fire morphs and spits in what you hope is happiness, because you’re actually quite nervous about messing this up in front of him.

“Oh, that’s good…” You sigh, relieved.

That night you acquaint yourself a little more with him, and the next evening he takes you out for another ride. This time not due to necessity, but for leisure. You trot up mountains and through shaded trees of woods, and he reveals to you hidden glades shimmering in moonlight, crowned with mushroom rings.

This is how you begin your friendship with him, though in your heart, you know you want more.

You are quick to welcome him into your home, and in the darker evenings he makes a habit of keeping vigil quietly as you cook dinner (if only for yourself) and fold laundry. You often find yourself rambling to him about your day. It’s very easy to slip into revealing so much about your personal life to him, because he is so stoic and unbothered. You are certain you could mention to him off-hand that you’ve murdered someone and he wouldn’t bat an eyelash. Not that he has them.

Ciarán is a man of scant words, of course. He will stand quite upright, unmoving, for hours on end for you. It is for this reason that you are shocked when he strides across your tiny living room and picks out a book from your dusty, neglected shelf.

“Oh… Yeah, I never actually finished that.” You say.

You have always felt slightly guilty for this, and wonder now if you should give it another try. He cracks it open and presents it to you, gesturing in his elegant way.

“You want me to read it to you?”

By now, you’re well used to interpreting him. He hisses in what you assume to be a ‘yes’ and you shrug your shoulders. You’re a little bewildered, but he crams himself into an armchair that’s far too small for him and you start the book again. This time, it seems far more interesting, maybe because you’re hoping he enjoys it as well. To be honest, it may also be an excuse to keep him here for a while longer. He tends to insist you go to sleep when it’s late, and leaves you.

But it’s difficult not to feel drowsy sometimes, and you do nod off; only to find yourself waking up in bed, snuggly tucked into your cushions. You sit up, and he is nowhere to be seen.

One night, you decide to teach him to write in English.

He isn’t difficult to persuade. If anything, you begin to suspect that he has been trying to ask you to do this for a while, nudging blank sheets towards you and tracing a sharp talon over it. More than once he has poked a hole in the paper this way. You want to kick yourself for not realising this sooner, and lead him eagerly to your sofa to your cluttered mess of stationary and notebooks.

The sight of him holding a tiny pencil between his huge armoured fingers is comical to say the least. You notice that his handwriting is unusual, seemingly wanting to stray back into the esoteric runes and symbols that are more familiar to him. You teach him how to write your name and it becomes his favourite thing to scrawl on his paper, second only to ‘Gormlaith.’

For a while the only other words he can manage are “Hello,” and “Dear to me,” but his terse, broken notes to you grow gradually into more refined passages. Even with simple tools, you find he can construct quite meaningful sentences, rich with surprising emotion. He pens several letters to you, and you scour over them all, one by one, in hopes that you’ll understand him better.

One day you notice he treats one of these letters to you as being of great importance, and when you open it you are astounded to see it is a declaration of love. For you.

“I didn’t think you’d be interested in a human like me…” You stare at your feet, flustered.

For all your overthinking, you haven’t realised how clear his intentions have been all this time. Then, you hear the scratch of a pencil over paper, and he pushes it over to you. You shift and read it over:

“You’re more precious than you know.”

This makes your ears ring. Feeling bold, you bestow a kiss on the cold metal of his gauntlet, and hear a crisp hiss sounding in response. You allow yourself to lean against his chest and sigh, murmuring your acceptance.

From then on, there is an agreement between the two of you: you are his now.

One night you pack up for a picnic in the dark, and he humours you despite his inability to eat. He seems to enjoy your company regardless.

You’ve never known fireflies to live in Ireland, but you have the funny feeling that the tiny glowing orbs that welcome you aren’t lightning bugs. There’s a curious music in the air, like windchimes, and a warm Summer breeze rustles the grass around you. You choose a sheltered patch in the glade to lay down your tartan spread and basket. Gormlaith, still sporting a knitted blanket you had fashioned for her, trots over to a nearby river and laps at the water there, leaving you and Ciarán alone. He curls an arm around you and you lean into him, all cold, sharp metal and fire, but you have never felt so comfortable.

Something strange happens as you spread jam over a slice of bread, and your attention is drawn by your lover pointing off into the distance. You see it, then, a ghostly blue wisp hanging over the marshes shrouded with fog, and almost drop your sandwich. There are more behind and to the sides of you, glowing with ice. You realise they’re surrounding you both now, haunting the bog like death’s lanterns.

You should be used to this sort of thing by now, but to be able to confront it as a real, tangible phenomenon, and not simply the work of an overactive imagination, is always incredibly surreal.

“Is this your doing?” You stare at him accusingly, grinning. He makes no move to confirm it, so you turn back to watch the flowers sway, biting into your sandwich. He is never transparent, and you’d be lying if you said that didn’t bother you sometimes. Even after giving him the tools he needed to tell you all, he remains a great mystery to you.

There’s something wistful about him too, like an old soldier come back from war. You wonder if you’ll ever know him, truly.

Your staring is a little too obvious. He gently touches your cheek with his hand, a soft caress of gauntleted talons. The fire on his neck crackles richly, flaring like he’s admiring you. When you smile and lean into his touch, you see his chest swell proudly.

“Ciarán,” you start, “Could… Could I see you without the armour?”

It’s a loaded question, but you hope he won’t take offence to it. You’re not afraid of him, but you don’t want him to clam up.

His hand comes to stroke your side, and he seems deep in thought for a moment. You’re content to snuggle in closer to him, but then he shifts off the ground. You look up at him questioningly, but he offers you his hand. ‘Come with me,’ he’s saying. Gormlaith trots over on his command, and nudges you.

Ciarán lifts you up with ease and places you on her back. You pat her neck as he mounts, embracing you gently from behind. Your pulse is thick in your ears. You’re thinking you can take this as him allowing you to see him; but not here.

He kicks firmly, and you gallop off.

You shut the door of your bedroom and pull the curtains closed. All is quiet, except for the furnace-like hiss behind you and the beating of your heart.

For a long time, you’ve seen the armour as if it was his own skin, and you almost can’t believe you’re seeing it removed now, clasp by clasp. His gauntlets come off, stiff as if they were frozen, and you see his skin is ashen grey, drab like a corpse’s. Your hands are extended, unsure, but they meet him eagerly. Ciarán allows you to trace an experimental hand across his forearm and up through his collarbone. You see where his head was cleaved from his body, and though it may be a gruesome sight to some, you only wish that you could brush your warm cheek against his, and kiss him there. He clasps your fingers in his and gently rubs your thumb, as if to soothe you against this thought.

He tugs gently at the bands of your clothes and you feel your body shake a little as you shed them and reveal yourself to him. But you’re overwhelmed by want as he touches you, and your embarrassment is quickly away.

He gathers you up and sits down on your bed. It creaks dangerously under his weight, but you cannot think of that now, close as you are, almost melded together. He handles you as if you were his toy, guiding you into his lap. You feel so hot, bunching your hands into his embroidered tunic. You feel your way into his naked chest, finding relief in the cool, solid flesh there.

“I need you…” You sigh breathlessly.

He’s kneading your hips like a cat, almost purring with satisfaction. You think he’s trying to savour the moment, but you can’t help but feel that he enjoys you like this; all desperate and needy. He creeps a hand downward, and your stomach twitches as you feel his palm smooth over it, your heart throbbing as he reaches the inside of your thighs. His movements are achingly slow, and you’re unable to stop yourself from pressing into him.

“Ciarán!”

The deft strokes of his fingers feel mind-numbingly good. You’re shivering with anticipation, brushing softly against his crotch. He’s hard, too. Once he’s satisfied he’s prepared you enough, he draws the strings on his breeches. You swallow at the sight of him, and eagerly position yourself above him. He keeps you still with a firm hold on your thighs, hissing heatedly.

Ciarán finally sinks inside you, and you cry out against him. You’re being stretched like never before. You can tell from his hesitation that he’s being careful not to hurt you, but through the momentary pain you feel white, hot pleasure.

He’s still holding your hips in place to keep you from moving. You whine, torn agonisingly between wanting more and being overwhelmed by sensation. It all feels too good all at once. Ciarán grips your waist and fucks you deeper still, petting your head fondly as a reward for taking him so well. It isn’t long before you’re cumming messily around his cock, almost drooling onto his shoulder.

Ciarán lays your sweaty body down on your pillows, his fire blazing. He’s not done with you yet. That night, he has his way with you until you’re spent and exhausted, and you barely remember falling asleep before you’re wrapped in linen.

-

In the morning you wake up with a nagging fear pricking at your neck. For so long you have been paranoid; what if your lover is a mere fantasy, an illusion conjured by mist? But you open your eyes, and feel Ciarán’s cool skin against your face and his arms enveloping you.

You stir drowsily, sighing in contentment. It was not a dream. His neck is unlit at first, but it soon crackles to life as you adjust yourself; you have no intention of leaving his embrace. Your thick curtains shield you both from the early morning sun, its pure, golden rays reaching only to the foot of your bed. A soft breeze flutters from the open window, smelling of wildflowers. Outside, you hear the sweet calls of songbirds and the clucking of your beloved chickens.

You lean over to kiss his collarbone, and he rubs a soothing thumb into your naked thigh. It seems he feels no pressing need to move either, drawing the sheets closer to your body, as if to shelter you.

You can feel yourself starting to fall asleep again, and you don’t try to fight it, but doze off contentedly on his chest.

Life certainly doesn’t get any better than this.

(Taglist: @rottent33th, @slaasherslut, @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better, @myers-meadow, @solmints-messyocdiary)

This is my nsfw Taglist, let me know if you want let off/added

[xocasper]

Ray and his chicken pot pies and Gilmore girls I’m so down horrendously for this man

he’s so cozy. i can’t describe it. he’s a cottagecore bitch. i know everyone is always like “ooh gerard moss and worms” but ray is just.

we would have a nice little home in the middle of a forest, and i could do assorted chores while he cooked us dinner (because we KNOW this man can cook). and i think we could have a little cat who would curl up at the end of our bed at night. we would absolutely have a little stone fireplace in the living room, and he would read to me if i couldn’t sleep at night. then i could fall asleep in his arms, wrapped in a faded quilt, and he would put out the flame and carry me off to bed. and and and.

[malusokay]

30 things to make life more memorable

Making memories is such a beautiful thing; what I had to understand is that those memories don't have to be major things like vacations or events. Small things, happy moments, and loving interactions are enough to make life more memorable. <3

Going for walks in the rain. I recently got caught in the rain while on a long walk with my dog, and we had so much fun!!

Exploring cozy coffee shops and cafes. One of my favorite weekend activities you can also read or study while there.

Turning off your phone. reconnecting and focusing on yourself.

Learning about things that you care about. Even if other people say it's a waste of time.

Celebrating the holidays more. I used to be a holiday hater until I just decided to go all out on holidays and celebrate them to the extreme; now I really look forward to them and love the planning process!!

Baking your own bread. Tried and failed many times, but when I succeed, the bread feels special and makes me a little bit proud.

Visiting museums and art galleries. You can also bring a sketchbook and collect inspiration (and look mysterious hahah).

Saying 'yes' to spontaneous ideas. Spontaneous adventures are always the most exciting ones.

Making a Bucketlist for each season. I'm currently working on my autumn bucket list, so stay tuned for that!! :)

Trying something new. I recently made ravioli from scratch and had such a good time; they also were delicious.

Watching sunrises and sunsets. A great way to catch a calm moment; I prefer sunsets.

Learning to be alone. Enjoying your alone time is so important; I love doing my skincare, writing my blog, watching cozy shows, and reading when I'm alone.

Going to a farmers market on the weekend. I have a tradition of having brunch with my dad on weekends, so I like to buy some fruits at the market for that!

Lighting scented candles and wear cozy knitted sweaters. I'm all about the cozy vibe; it makes me feel safe and comfortable.

Annotating books. Annotating while reading really helps to focus; you can also write down your thoughts while reading and look back at them later!

Cooking your own meals. It's such a simple and sweet act of self-care. You can also try making your own Jam or something.

Doing things that you enjoyed as a child. My favorites are horse riding, swimming, baking, and bubble baths.

Buying flowers for yourself. It doesn't have to be an expensive e and fancy bouquet, just some pretty flowers for your room.

Taking more Photos. You can also buy a cool vintage camera (I recommend looking on eBay!) to make it more aesthetically pleasing.

Trying crochet, knitting, or sewing. I'm trying to crochet a sweater for my dog right now, haha.

Planting a plant. I already told you about my avocado plant, but I really recommend it!

Making plans with your friends like going on a picnic. You could plan some themed picnics like cottagecore, homemade, food from your culture, strawberries, and so on; also a great opportunity to take some pictures!

Do volunteer work. You could help out at a shelter, for example.

Writing a diary. Writing down things that have happened and looking back at them feels really lovely to me.

Writing letters to your friends. Letters just feel more personal than text; you can also keep them as a memory.

Dressing in a way that makes you feel happy. Wearing outfits that make you feel confident will definitely make life better.

Petting stray cats. I love cats.

Starting to collect something. You could collect something small like jewelry or postcards!

Playing music in the background while doing stuff. I can't stop listening to the lofi girl stream on youtube, haha.

Going on gloomy walks in the Forrest. Name something more comforting. I will wait.

Please feel free to add more suggestions in the comments! <3

✩‧₊*:・love ya ･:*₊‧

[fizzingwizard]

Takeru and Hikari's rooms, last pair. for like three days they had nothing but a toilet in their homes lol bc i put them off for the very last i have to do things in a certain order when it comes to adventure characters true fans know what i mean

Takeru's theme was zany x'D so he gets a snowman made of sand. there zany finished.

i mean the inside is also ORANGE and theres lots of patterns and pop art... I think Takeru just likes buys anything that he knows will make the others say "my eyes they bleed" and adds it to his room.

the pig is homage to patamon >_> the hamster is also named patamon >____>

and hikari's theme was "the rooms fizz would like to live in." soft. cozy. fairy lights. cottagecore girl lmao

i really love this room. she can use the computer at that little desk just fine but she won't do it unless i direct her to sit in the chair first. she routes perfectly fine and never resists the direction to go use the computer, she just stands there until i make her sit down first... *shrug* no use worrying about it, its sims 4, most of the routing will be broken by tomorrow for no discernable reason anyway lol

[twinkleton]

ok but what if... a spin off of your douxie x reader where we get the details on how douxie proposed 👀

Ask and ye shall receive! This takes place a year after my At the End of the Century fic, I’m considering call this series just Married!Douxie since any fics I do with this universe they will be married. I didn’t imagine them living in the castle anymore without Merlin, and I just wanted some cottagecore lmao. And yes, reader invents cat trees 😂. Hope you guys enjoy!

Tags: @clarencebells @purplesinnerw

“Archie, could you come over here?” 

The familiar pokes his head up from his proclaimed resting spot, a basket generally used for berry-picking, and lets out a big yawn. 

“I’m afraid I can’t, you’ve sucked all the energy out from me already,” he mumbles, plopping his head back down. Archie and the young witch had spent the morning organizing their belongings into their new home. As a show of gratitude and solidarity for the small family, the trolls of Dwoza had been building them a little cottage in the forest for the past year, between walking distance of their land and Camelot. They graciously accepted the gift.

“Please, just for a minute! Then you can continue your lounging,” Y/N pleaded from her and Douxie’s bedroom. Archie makes a low groan and rolls out of his makeshift bed, slowly making his way over to her.

“I swear if you ask me to fly over to a shelf you can’t reach one more time, I will-” His sentence stops short once he enters the room, eyes wide. Unbeknownst to him, while he was taking his little cat nap, the girl had been spending her time crafting up a tower for him, with all sorts of levels for him to climb, at the top of it being a cozy bed for him, made out of fabric she’d stolen from the castle. Old habits die hard. However, it was worth it for Y/N to see the look on her friend’s face. 

“Is..is this for me?” Archie climbs up to the first level. 

“Well I don’t see any other cat familiars lying around,” she replies with a smirk. 

“Always so cheeky,” he says with a chuckle. His nose slightly wiggled, detecting a fishy odor coming from the top. 

“Oh, you didn’t.”

“Oh, I so did.”

He swiftly leaps to the highest level, eyes gleaming with delight as his suspicions to what was there were confirmed. Y/N, being the angel in his eyes that she is, had prepared roasted salmon for him. How she somehow was able to hide all of this from him, he’ll never know. 

“Do-do you like it?” Y/N asked sheepishly.

Suddenly, there’s weight on her chest, as Archie had flown over to her, trapping her into a bear hug that she quickly reciprocated. 

“I don’t understand, why did you do all of this for me?”

She laid her hand onto his head, gently stroking, “I don’t need a reason, Arch. You’re my friend, we've been through a lot. You deserve this.”

If it was in Archie’s nature, there would have been tears falling from his eyes. However, what felt right for him was to embrace her for a little bit longer, ending the hug with a simple, “Thank you, Y/N.”

Their bonding moment was cut short by the sudden loud bang of the front door opening, a disheveled and filthy Douxie stumbling in. His man bun had completely become undone, leaving his hair a tangled mess on top of his head. His clothes were covered in soot and his shoes were mysteriously soggy, leaving footprints on the floor. He leans into the door, slamming it shut behind him. 

The two rush over to him. “Oh, fuzzbuckets. What on Earth happened to you?”

“Stealing my catchphrases now, love? I knew I’d eventually rub off on you,”

An annoyed groan escapes Y/N’s lips as she walks over to assist Douxie in standing. “I thought you said you were helping Deya with a simple errand. You look like you volunteered to be her personal target dummy.”

“Knowing Douxie, that probably isn’t far off from the truth,” Archie smirks, giving Douxie an all-knowing look.

“So she didn’t give all of the details of her request, she’s a busy woman. She has a legacy of Trollhunters to begin, can’t expect her to be so thorough.” Douxie chuckles nervously, a laugh that tells Archie all he needs to know but seemingly raises no concern for Y/N. 

“All right. Arch, go enjoy your dinner. I’ll take care of him,” Y/N says, leading Douxie towards the bath further down the hall.

Once she has filled the bath up sufficiently, she sticks a hand into the water, muttering under her breath a spell. Her hand glows a vibrant scarlet shade, and soon the water begins to bubble up with steam rising into the air. Douxie, with clothes discarded onto the floor, leans onto Y/N for support as he slowly descends into the bath. He relaxes his muscles, the warm water helping ease all the aches he has in his limbs. 

“Have I ever said that I love magic? Because I do, I really do,” his girlfriend giggles at his comment as she softly brushes out his mangled locks. Afterwards, she pours some of the water onto his hair, washing away the sweat and grime. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“With you, never better.”

“No, I mean, with everything. I know it’s been a year since the battle, but we haven’t really talked much about what happened. How it’s been for you without...Merlin.” Y/N had been hesitant with bringing up his master, not wanting to cause him any stress or discomfort. Still, she figured it was better than the alternative of Douxie bottling up his feelings.

He adjusts himself so that he’s facing Y/N, looking up to make eye contact with her. Despite himself, he can’t help but get entranced by her eyes, so vibrant and full of genuine love and concern for him. He reaches over and brushes away hair, cupping her face. How he became so lucky to have someone as kind, beautiful, and thoughtful as her be in his life, let alone be with him, he’ll never understand. He doesn’t know what living would be like if she wasn’t a constant presence and he doesn’t want to know. 

So, he lets out something he’s truly been bottling up. 

“Marry me.”

Y/N can’t fully process what he’d just said to her. Her brain hasn’t caught up with her heart, which fluttered the moment those two little words left his mouth. 

“What?”

Douxie lets go of her face to grab onto her hands, pulling them close to him. 

“I wanted to pick a better time to bare my heart out to you, one where I’m not bare...myself,” that earns a little chuckle from Y/N, “But, I just can’t wait any longer.”

He instructs her to grab his tunic still lying on the floor and to check the inner pocket. Once she reaches her hand inside, she feels a small band of metal, pulling it out to see. It’s revealed to be a golden ring, with intricate carvings all along the band, and secured on top was a small emerald gem, so polished that light reflects beautifully off of it. The sight of it alone is enough to make Y/N’s eyes start to water. 

“You made this?”

Douxie gives a little nod, “Hence my very repugnant appearance earlier. I did go to see Deya, but it was to ask her for a favor, not the other way around. I knew they would have just the metal and stone I needed for the ring, however had they warned me that retrieving said materials would be so difficult, maybe I would’ve looked elsewhere,” he explains with a smile. “Go ahead, try it on.”

Y/N slides the ring down her finger, a perfect fit. She looks up at him, eyes brimming with tears.

“Why?”

The answer is simple for him, “Because I love you. It has been hard without Merlin. He was always who I looked to for guidance, afraid of any misstep I would possibly make without his advice, but with you, I’m not afraid. You’re so encouraging and loving that I believe I can trust myself and make my own decisions and they won’t lead to chaos somehow. I look forward to each day because I know you’ll be there. I can’t imagine life without you in it, and I never want to. I realize asking to be with me for the rest of your immortal life is a lot, but-”

“Yes,” she answers, finally letting the tears fall. The biggest smile she thinks she’s ever had spreads across her face. 

Douxie lets out a mixture of a laugh and a gasp of surprise. “Really? Hold on, I don’t want this moment to be me in a bucket the whole time,” he jumps out of the bath, quickly drying himself and tugging on a clean pair of pants. His hair is still wet, leaving droplets of water on his shoulders. Then, he walks in front of Y/N, picking up her hands again to bring them to be his chest. “You’re sure about this?”

Y/N waves her thumbs over his fingers, feeling an overwhelming sense of happiness, “All I’ve ever wanted was a family. People and a place I can consider home. I thought I had found that with Morgana, but I was wrong. Who I really found it with was you. You and Archie are my family. I love Archie dearly, and I’m so in love with you. An eternity with you still doesn’t feel long enough.” 

Now it’s Douxie who’s crying tears of joy. This has to be one of the greatest moments of his life. He gets to be with the love of his life forever and always. He picks her up effortlessly, spinning her around while the two joyously laugh and squeal. Still in the air, Y/N grabs onto his face to pull him in, capturing his lips in a kiss. Douxie sighs into it, not able to properly kiss due to him not being able to stop smiling. They come apart, still holding onto each other and giggling like teenagers.

“Ah, so he finally did it. He’s been worrying about it ever since we moved here,” Archie says, doing his well known habit of waltzing in unannounced.

Douxie lets her down, facepalming at his familiar’s interruption. “That was supposed to be kept a secret, Arch.”

“Apologies. But really Doux? In the bath? Even I could’ve thought of something more grand than that.”

“Why you little-”

“How was your dinner, Archie?” Y/N says before Douxie can have a go at him. 

“Absolutely delightful, you truly are amazing Y/N.”

Y/N thanks him. As Douxie and Archie continue their snarky banter with one another, she can’t help but feel so content in the moment. She realizes that that loneliness she used to feel before will never come again thanks to these two. She may have had to defeat Morgana in the end, but she will be eternally grateful for the gift of love she granted her.

[rainydaymentality]

I have so many aesthetics I want to live. Too many, in fact. they’ve become these personalities in my thoughts when I think of all the things I’m drawn to.

I adore the cottagecore personality. I’ve always wanted to live in a stone cottage with a biodiverse yard, and a river running behind my home and I’m surrounded by trees that tower over and seem to protect my home. I want to keep my hair in a pretty braid and wear cozy clothes and possibly even light dresses. I want to have my own little patio and grow my own food and always buying local. I wanna feel sustainable. I want to be so relaxed and disconnected from the outside world. I want my lips to taste like honey and lavender and my skin to smell of marionberries and cream.

I also fall into a subset of that called goblin core. I adore shiny treasures, and i pick up literal rocks if they catch my eye; not gemstones or crystals litteral rocks and sometimes gravel. I want my hair in a bun at all times and my clothes to have little effort because I want to be relaxed and me at all times. I dont want to be surrouned by the noise of the world and the stress of electronics; I want to be surronded by frogs and mushies and ferns and moss. I wanna make up with cactus plants and pearl plants. I want ferns to cover the ceiling of my roon so I always feel like Im in the forest. I want to eat so much, almost every hour, cause food is one of my many favorite subjects. and with that I wanna medicate with weed and just feel out my own wonders of the world. I want my sense of dark and playful humor exude from my brain to mask my silly thoughts. I dress like a grandpa and keep animals like toads and snakes and cats with only 3 legs

But as a writer, I also want to be that city girl with the mind of genuis. That dark academic aesthetic. I want coffee stains on my notes, and pretty pens to write down all my thoughts. I want a bullet journal filled with all my ideas and plans and descriptions of my own world. I want to wear my glasses and look actually decent with them on, instead of having to wear them because I cant see. I want to have a laptop thats always in my lap, and the keys typing away as quickly as I can, planning out my future and my week. I want my lips to be exfoliated with nothing but carefully thought out words. I want to seem put together and competent. Mature bold and beautiful.

However, a contrast to all those, I also want to live in a very dreamy manic pixie world. I want my face painted up in pinks and whites and puples and blues. I want my bedroom mirror decorated with pastal clouds and stickers that capture my sense of humor. I want to wear baggy pink sweaters and long thigh high socks. I have girl pink prints of cats and uwu faces. I want to dress up and look cutesy and girl and actually feel feminine. I want to play video games where I dont have think in room surounded by fairy lights and posters of moe anime. I want my paint set to always be out so at anytime I can run to and let my imagination spark. I want to pull of cute hair styles like space buns and pigtails, and not look out of place.

And all this is just the tip of the iceberg. It makes me ask what really is my personality? 

[imagine-organization-xiii]

i know we did an image headcanon on this a long time ago, but could you do a text post on what kind of house they'd like? like a mansion, a ranch on a lot of land, a log cabin in a peaceful forest, etc.

you’re really appealing to my cottagecore heart right here, especially with the lexaeus and marluxia ones tbh

ALSO I DID BOTH, I HOPE THAT’S OKAY

-

Xemnas - a giant, heavily secured mansion because that’s what he deserves, okay? He works hard, damn it. Most of the furniture is worth more than you’ll make in a lifetime, and the upkeep is done by a gardener, maid, and a butler.

Xigbar - The size of the house doesn’t matter to Xigbar - what matters is what’s in the house. He wants a shed outdoors so he can work and a big garage for a nice motorcycle, extra space for when friends arrive unexpectedly and a place where he can build a few nice, playful memories.

Xaldin - A cabin! Somewhere deep in the forest or maybe on a mountain-side, surrounded by massive pine trees. He wants a big dog to run around the woods with him and a river somewhere nearby so he can fish.

Vexen - just let this man live in the middle of nowhere, preferably somewhere icy and cold, with his lab equipment and a few blankets and he’ll be fine. He likes isolation, so let him relax without a care in small place where it snows a lot.

Lexaeus - A large ranch house on a lot of land. He has horses and cattle grazing in the faraway grass and a wide, wraparound porch with rocking chairs and a nice breeze. It’s a fixer-upper, but he likes working with his hands.

Zexion - As much as he would love to live in a little hobbit-hole like in Tolkien’s classic novel, Zexion is fine with whatever kind of house he can get as long as he has 1) a lot of privacy and 2) room for a giant library.

Saix -  a penthouse apartment in a faraway city, overlooking a beautiful image. The lights of the city are almost better than the stars of the night sky (almost). It’s cozy, but cool and foreign, with not many homey or personal items around.

Axel - thrives in being around other people, so give this man a house in a busy neighborhood with kind neighbors or a townhouse on a busy street. He knows each of his neighbors by name and they know him, too.

Demyx - Somewhere close to a clear and sandy beach, where the weather is warm year round and he has a lot of space where he can run around, play loud music, and just do his own thing without worrying about his neighbors.

Luxord - Oh, man, Luxord would want to live in STYLE, like in some sort of old-time English castle like the English lords of medieval times. He loves the idea of antique furniture and stone walls, isolated from a small town below the castle windows.

Marluxia - A modern and cozy and warm cottage, with a lot of room for a giant garden. He’ll have flowers and veggies of all kinds, rosemary by his garden gate for good luck, and he’ll always have freshly squeezed orange juice and champagne for friends.

Larxene - Location doesn’t matter that much to Larxene, but she DOES want a place with a lot of rooms. A big, comfy bedroom, a home gym, a tv room, a big kitchen, a large dining room. Essentially a dream house for her, with all the modern amenities that she can think of.

Roxas - Hot and warm! A little bungalow on the beach would be a great permanent place to live for him, large enough to have room for friends but small enough that it doesn’t often feel empty and lonely. Clear waters and clear skies, with kind people around him.

Xion - Similar to Marluxia, give her a little rustic cottage with a sweet tabby cat and some hand-knitted blankets and this girl is good to go. There would be a few chickens in the backyard and a goat to supply eggs and milk, a door that’s always open to friends with the smell of fresh bread baking out the window.

[mercyinthestars]

Heyyy! Fireside, fog, quilt, and moonlit :)

hey thanks dude!

Fireside: If you had your dream wardrobe, what would it look like? Mm honestly it would be a wide mix of like dark/light academic aesthetic clothes (nice structured blazers, cozy knit sweaters, slim fit pants in like houndstooth print lmao, things I can wear to a nice bar and also to a work meeting) and super girlie/cottagecore flowy dresses and like fuckin flowery lace corsets and stuff

Fog: How well do you think you’d do in a zombie apocalypse scenario? Oh I’d die no question lol I have very few life skills 

Quilt: How do you take your tea (or coffee)? Not really a tea girl. I like coffee with creamer and sugar. 

Moonlit: Are you a neat or messy person? Is your room/house orderly? I’m not neat but I’m definitely not messy. Just a little messy perhaps. My dorm room is pretty organized rn, as is my room at home. My bed is usually messy cause I’m godawful about making the bed.

Thanks again for asking!