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#played around with his fur patterns this time
weredemonz · 1 year
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Sit down and enjoy a mug of cold mushtea with him why don’t you
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puppyeared · 9 months
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updated Sleight ref!!
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giuliettagaltieri · 2 months
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Not Her Man
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Childhood friend!Reader
Chapter Synopsis: Feathers fall gracefully slow
Warning: Girlrotting
Word Count: 3193
Part 1 • Part 3
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You were always scared to do drugs.  
You saw Rafe at his highs, you were with him, keeping him from doing anything stupid like when he was so sure he could backflip from Tanneyhill’s rooftop and land on the grass perfectly. 
But you also wondered how difficult it was for him to get clean.  To suffer from withdrawals.  And as you lie on your fur carpet, staring at the glimmering crystals of your chandelier, with your closet half emptied and scattered all around your room, along with rolling wine bottles on the polished hardwood floor of your bedroom, you think you might have understood just a little.
Blocking him was the hardest thing you have ever done in your life, especially when it was your routine to giggle over whatever interaction you had through text that day.  The itch to open his account for any update made you want to bind your hands together.
Your parents are out of the country, busy overseeing their business, forgetting to oversee their daughter.  Your maids were there for you, at least they try to be.  They bring you food on schedule, even sliding in a few scoops of ice cream every now and then in your room when your sobs start to echo around the halls.
Rafe tried to contact you multiple times.  First, through your phone, but you blocked him.  Next, he tried to throw pebbles at your window, but your seventy-six year old gardener fired a shotgun at him, thinking that he was a burglar.  Next, he tried a different approach, he was sending you gigantic bouquets of your favorite flowers, making the hallway leading to your room look like a wedding set up, the flowers perfumed the entire house too, drawing a concerning amount of bees.  One epipen to your chef’s thigh later, Rafe stops sending them.
He never really does anything right.  All he does is mess up, create more problems for himself.  You almost wanted to give in, but you remind yourself of the things he said.  Anger and hurt quickly replaces pity.
A familiar chime of your phone had you groaning.  Your friends are probably going to have another attempt of making you step out of your room, like inviting you to have your nails done or shop, just to get your mind off of Rafe.
You just let the ringtone end and you go back to staring at the chandelier, wondering if you’ll be quick enough to get out of the way if it somehow falls.  Before you can plan a strategic roll, your phone rings again.
Blindly reaching underneath the scattered pillows, you finally locate the buzzing device.  You answer without looking at the caller ID. 
“Y/N speaking.”  You mumble lazily.
“Hey, girlie.”  There goes the high-pitched voice of your friend.  “Sooo, the girls and I-hush!”  You hear a bunch of girls giggling behind the line and your brows crease together in annoyance.  “We’re going on a party tonight and we’re thinking that maybe you’d liketocomewithus?”
You play with the lace of your dress, eyes just following the patterns when you hear your name being called again over the phone.
“I’m not in the mood for parties.” 
“You are never in the mood for anything anymore.”  She whines behind the line.  Her tone prompts you to sit up to pick up the stale wine you left out in the open for too long.  Taking a sip and ignoring the thin coat of dust it caught after you ransacked your closet for something that made you look confident, only for you to end up squeezing in the dress that Rafe got you as a present for your 13th birthday.  He didn’t pick it out for you, of course, but it still made you all fizzy and bubbly and excited inside.
You put down the wine to scratch at the waistband that is digging on the skin of your under bust, the fabric being stretched beyond its capacity.
“I know.”  You tried to sound apologetic.  “I just can’t, okay?”
She sighs, making you let out a grateful sigh.  There’s still some ceiling viewing you had to get back to.
“I’m picking you up at seven.”  She speaks with finality and before you can answer, she continues.  “Please don’t let that awful man get the satisfaction of knowing that he has this much effect on you.”  You can hear her begging behind the phone.  She and the other girls are just looking out for you.
With an unwilling heart, you decide to get on your feet, your socked foot nearly slipping the moment it touches the wooden floor.  Cursing, you finally crouch on the piled up clothes you threw earlier. 
“Fine, I’ll come.”  You roll your eyes.  “Dresscode?”
You hear an airy chuckle and you can imagine her pinching your cheeks if you were within her reach.  “Party’s open to all, Kooks or Pogues.  In the community beach house.  You dress however you like.  I’ll match your vibe, if you’d like.”
This makes a smile creep on your lips.  She’s definitely on the top 10 list of the most annoying people you know but you thank God everyday for a friend like her.  “You know I love you, right?”
She snorts before bursting out in a fit of laughter.  “Duh.  I love you too.”
“See you later.”  You grin.  “Tell the girls I’m coming too.”
“Sure, see you!” 
You hang up and get started on searching for the right outfit.  Well, there’s the classic white flowy dresses, but everybody wears them.  You could wear a short and a cute top, show some belly?  Blech, you’re not exactly in one of your maneater moods.  But perhaps if you covered it with that oversized white pinstriped polo, it could work?  Yeah, something casual yet put together.  It’s not like you’re dressing to impress anybody, or somebody in particular, you’d prioritize comfort over fashion tonight.
A knock on your bedroom door pulls you from your thoughts.  With a shrug, you throw your chosen clothes on your bed.
“Coming.”  You call while trudging over to open the door.  There stood your maid, she was looking anxious, wringing her wrinkly hands.  “What is it?”
She glances at your odd choice of clothing before she looks away so as to not make you uncomfortable.  “Well, uhm, Sir Cameron is here again, miss.  He’s waiting for you downstairs, in the drawing room.”
You press your lips in a firm line.  “Tell him I’m not here.”
Your maid smiles apologetically.  “He…he saw you in your bedroom window before he came in, miss.”
Huffing, you tap your feet impatiently.  “Just tell him I’m busy.”
“He said you’ll say that.”  She mutters, amusement in her tone.  “And he asked us to tell you that he can wait.”
You close your eyes to keep them from rolling.  “Whatever, he can stay as long as he likes, but I’m not coming down to meet him.”  You push the door a little wider and your maid’s eyes widen at the state of your room.  “I’m sorry, I know you’re busy but can you help me clean up?”
The rest of the afternoon was spent tidying up your room. 
It was dark out, a couple of minutes past seven when your phone buzzed.  Knowing that it’s your girlfriends, you pick your bag, filled with the usual party necessities and head downstairs.  It’s a habit, assigning yourself as the responsible friend who stays sober to look after the others.
You are slipping in the pearl bracelet your grandmother got for you last Christmas when you hear your name being called and in instinct, you turn around.
“Oh, right.”  You say with a tone that is drier than the Sahara desert.  “You’re here.”
Rafe’s standing just outside your drawing room, his hands falling to his side.
“Yeah.”  He spoke awkwardly, his eyes glancing at your outfit, familiarity crossing them before he looked at your eyes again.  “I was waiting for you.”
You exhale softly and he just stood there, waiting for your reaction.
“I know.”  You say simply.  “Gotta go.”  You start walking again to your door.
“Wait, Y/N.” He easily catches up.  “You’re…you’re coming to the party, right?”  He asks hopefully.
“Yes.”  You respond without looking at him.
Rafe smiles but it quickly dissipates when he sees a different car waiting for you.  “Hold on, I can drive you there.”  He says quickly, his hand gripping yours just to get you to listen to him.  “I can drive you to the party.”  He says in an uncharacteristically sheepish way.
For a second, you look at him, really look at him.  His smile grows wide.  He missed having your eyes on him.  You’re his best friend, and he’s used to doing everything with you by his side.  He also liked how dependent you were on him too, always asking for his approval.  You have a bit of an overbearing attitude but he would be lying if he’ll say that he doesn’t miss you doting on him too.  Perhaps you’re not the only one who’s dependent on this odd friendship you both have.
“No, thank you.”  You say before pulling your hand away with a sharp look thrown his way.  He watches you walk away to greet your friends.  He’s still stuck there, staring, even after the car drives away.
He doesn’t understand it.
You’re the emotional one, why are you doing so well without him?  You never go to parties with other people, it was always him that you stick close to.  Clinging on him, pulling him to the dance floor when he’s about to do a line of coke, or accidentally knocking his cup when he’s had too much drinks.
Running a hand through his face, Rafe decides to hop on his car and follow you to the party.  You’ll be in the same space as him in the next few hours.  He’ll get another chance there.  He’s certain of it.
He didn’t get the chance.
With you by his side all the time, you memorized his set of activities at parties and you evaded him perfectly.  Rafe decided that it was best to stand by the punch table.  You’d get thirsty eventually, and he’ll be there waiting if you do.
On the other side of the house, farthest from Rafe, there you sit by the porch swing, admiring the push and pull of the waves.  The party was at its climax and everybody was cramped inside the house, dancing and drinking, or doing unholy activities.  You don’t know how you managed to slip away from your friends but you’re glad you did.  You needed the fresh air.
You’re just starting to get comfortable when a man stumbles out the door.  You watch him struggle to keep himself up.  He looked lost? Or just flat out drunk.  You watch in amusement as he scratches his blonde head, he must be having a whiplash from all the blinding neon lights inside and suddenly his vision switches to the bright light provided by the LEDs. 
His feet twist and he starts to fall to the side, your head tilting to follow his fall.  You wince when you hear the loud thud of his body hitting the floor, followed by his muffled but loud groaning.
“Motherfu-”  He sits on the floor, his legs sprawled out in front of him as he shakes his head like a dog.
“You alright, JJ?”  You chuckle.
He whips his head to you, cursing again when his vision spins.  “Y/N?”  He drawls out while rubbing his eyes.  “You saw everything?”
Still laughing, you get up to crouch next to him.  “I did.”  You smile when he groans out again.  “Are you okay?”
He props up a knee and rests an arm there, he looks buzzed, his eyes are heavily lidded as he stares off into the ocean.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”  He glances at you.  “Well, this is a strange sight.”
“What is?”  You mumble as you look away from him, deciding to play dumb.
He shrugs animatedly, hands gesturing to you and the entire space of the porch.  “Usually, wherever you are, your boyfriend is not that far behind.”  He points a thumb behind him.  “And if I wasn’t imagining it, I’m pretty sure I just saw him brooding over the drinks.”
You chuckle dryly as you bring your knees to your chest.  “He’s not my boyfriend.”
JJ looks at you with an unimpressed face.  “That’s all you heard.”
Playfully punching his shoulder, you sigh.  “We fought.”
He frowns, back straightening immediately.  “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”  It’s kind of sweet how your words seemed to have sobered him really quick.
“No!  No, he didn’t.”  You reply right away.  “Well, at least not physically.”
You watch him grimace.  “Outside physical fights, I have little to no idea how to respond.”
“That’s okay, JJ.  I don’t wanna talk about it, anyway.”
He gives you a boyish grin, as if to reassure you before scratching at his jaw, your eyes mindlessly follow his movements and you see a scratch.
“You’re hurt.”  You tell him, pointing at your own jaw.
“Huh?”  He touches his jaw and winces.  “Ow!  Must’ve scratched myself when I…uhm.”
“When you decided to attack the floor.”  You finish for him and he clears his throat.  “You’ll have to disinfect it.”
“Pfft, it’s fine.”  He shakes his head.  “It’s just a scratch.”
But you are already grabbing your bag by the swing and you return with a small kit.
“I forgot to bring wipes.”  You mumble before crouching down in front of him.  He swallows at your close proximity.  “Come on, JJ.  It’s just antibacterial cream.”
He hesitantly shows you his face and you gently apply the cream, tutting when he dramatically pulls away.
You grab his face and tilt it slightly and JJ squeezes his eyes.
“It fucking stings.”  He nearly whines, making you roll your eyes.
“Don’t be a baby!”  You huff and he stays still for a second, allowing you to smear the cream evenly and he rolls away from you as soon as you’re done.
JJ was muttering about God knows what while you’re busy putting your stuff away.  When you sit next to him again, he’s much calmer, a lazy smile back on his face again.
“Thanks, Y/N.”
You throw him a playful glare.  “You’re welcome.”
He touches the scratch and you almost tell him off but he quickly pulls his hand away. 
“Why didn’t Cameron make you his girl?”
You blow out a big sigh.  “He doesn’t like me.”
“Bullshit.”  He laughs but he clears his throat when you look at him unamused.  “Sorry.”
“It’s fine.”  You smile at him genuinely before averting your eyes.  “I wouldn’t blame him.  I mean, you saw how I can be.”  You chuckle this time but there’s no humor on JJ’s face, he’s looking at you rather sadly.  “I care too much and everybody suffocates around me.”
“I don’t.”  He says quickly.  “I was just being dramatic earlier.”  He rubs his nape.  “I’m not used to having people tend to me, I mostly just do it myself.”  He seeks your eyes and you finally look at him. 
You hear a creak behind you but before you can look, JJ cups your face to keep you from breaking your eye contact, making your breath hitch.
“I liked being taken care of like that.”  He whispers and your lips part slightly.
“JJ.”  You say breathlessly and he grins, his face leaning dangerously close to you.  “You’re drunk.”
He gently bites his bottom lip and you have to look away from his blatant flirting.  “I’m sober enough to kiss, I promise.”
This…this isn’t right.  
You gently push him away and his lips immediately form a pout.  “You’re such a kid, JJ.”
He clicks his tongue and angrily stoops as he glares at the ocean.  “You had no idea how long it took me to build the courage to do that.”
“Five minutes?”  You jokingly bump his shoulders, making his act break at the edges, a smile threatening to crack on his lips.  “Seriously, J, I can’t kiss drunk guys.  It’s unethical.”
He mimics you in a childish voice and buries his face on his palms harshly.  He turns to you again, with his hair disheveled and sticking to his forehead and red blotches appearing on some areas of his face.  “I’m not as drunk as you think I am.”  The way he glances at your lips had your throat drying up.  “I really wanted to kiss you.”  Aside from Rafe, you have little to no experience with the male attention and frankly, you don’t know what to do.
You place a hand on his shoulder and stiffly pat it twice.  “You’ll get over it.”
JJ looks at you exasperatedly.  “You’re taking this too lightly, this is my feelings we are talking about.”
You stifle a laughter.  “Oh, so you have feelings for me.”  You raise a brow at him and he nods his head enthusiastically.
“Every guy on this island has a thing for you.”  He says animatedly.  “If it wasn’t for your bodyguard, we would have made our move long ago.”
You are deeply flattered, you can’t resist the girlish smile from tugging on your lips, your cheeks slowly heating up.
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
He looks deeply offended and places a hand on his chest.
“You’re the ultimate dream girl, stupid!”  He dodges a punch from you.  “You’re like the total package.  You’re sweet, and smart, you’re also very pretty, you can be funny too when you let loose.”  He wiggles his eyebrows at you and this pulls a laughter from you, a real, genuine laughter that had your shoulders shaking.
“When are you gonna get serious, J?”  Wiping the tears from the corner of your eyes, you get up.  “Wait here, I’ll get us a drink.”
He gives you a two finger salute before lying smack down on the floor, with his arms spread out.  You shake your head, chuckling when you open the door.
And your hair stands on end.
There stood the very person you have been avoiding the entire night.
But for once, he isn’t wearing a scowl or a condescending cocky smile.
He was looking at you like a man defeated and broken.
“Rafe.”  You whisper as you reach for him but you stop yourself before your skin can touch.  He looks at your hand and then your eyes.  You don’t know if it’s the trick of light but you could have sworn his eyes are glassy.
“Hey, Y/N, everything alright?”  JJ calls.
Rafe glances at JJ and then back at you, he nods slowly as he takes a step back.  Your heart aches as you watch him take another step away from you but you will yourself not to follow.  He runs a hand on his mouth and he turns away from you.
You stare at his back as he leaves, torn between choosing your own pride or running after him.  For what seemed like hours, you stood there, frozen.  Still lost in the onslaught of emotions that surged through you.
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Not Your Girl • His Girl
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crystallinestars · 7 months
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If They Were Your Pet Cat (Part 2)
Headcanons for what Aventurine, Argenti, and Jing Yuan would be like as your pet cat.
This is a part 2 because I have a part 1 with Genshin characters here.
Part 3 (Gepard, Ratio, Dan Heng, Sampo)
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Aventurine:
🦚 Is a domestic shorthair.
🦚 You picked him up as a stray off the streets. Aventurine looked so pitiful in his dirty and starved state, that you didn’t have the heart to leave him like that, so you brought him home. Initially, he appeared nervous and quiet during the first few weeks. Once he became accustomed to living with you, you discovered that the little, scrawny feline has a big personality.
🦚 Aventurine loves to be pampered. He always purrs whenever you brush or pet him, give him belly rubs, or chin skritches. He simply adores your attention. When you coo that he’s such a pretty kitty? Aventurine looks as smug as a cat can possibly look and follows you around the house while affectionately rubbing against your legs.
🦚 He’s very loyal to you. Anyone that comes to your house and tries to coax him to come play or get pats, is promptly ignored by the feline. The ability to cuddle and pet him are luxuries he reserves only for you.
🦚 You’d think starving out on the streets would have made Aventurine eager to eat almost anything, but no. The little rascal only eats the most expensive cat food brands and turns his nose up at anything else. Either that, or he will steal your food off your plate when you’re not looking. He’s a spoiled cat.
🦚 Aventurine likes to sleep next to you. It doesn’t matter what you’re doing—he will saunter up and lay down somewhere close to take a nap. It’s also a given that he sleeps cuddled up beside you in bed during bedtime. He simply likes feeling your presence since it makes him feel safe.
🦚 As such, Aventurine hates when you leave him home alone for extended periods. He’s surprisingly clingy and gets lonely easily. If you’re gone for most of the day, he’ll be very upset by the time you get home and might tear up a pillow or the curtains out of spite. If this this pattern continues for a long while, one day you’ll notice that your keys are gone. Aventurine is a smart cat and quickly figures out that when you leave the house, you always bring your keys with you. To make you stay, he’ll hide them in a spot that only he can reach with ease. Good luck getting your keys back…
🦚 That said, getting another cat or pet won’t cure his loneliness. If anything, Aventurine will become possessive and jealous because he hates having to share your attention with another cat. He’s a bit territorial of you. Similarly, he dislikes you coming home smelling like another animal, so expect him to rub against you to overwrite the scent of that other animal.
🦚 Most of all, Aventurine hates it when you get mad at him. He always looks guilty whenever you scold or yell at him, and immediately flops over onto his back to expose his furry belly to you. It’s his attempt to placate you and ask for your forgiveness. He anxiously follows you around the house and rubs his body against your legs until he’s sure you’re not mad at him anymore.
Argenti:
🌹 An Ocicat breed.
🌹 Argenti is the most photogenic cat you’ve ever encountered. He always looks graceful and dignified no matter what he’s doing or what angle you take photos of him from. Every picture comes out looking lovely. Anyone who sees your cat always says that he looks beautiful.
🌹 To keep such a gorgeous appearance, Argenti often grooms himself. He does a very good job of it, too, which is why you barely have to groom him yourself. The most you have to do is give him the occasional bath, brush out shedding fur during shedding season, and clip his claws.
🌹 As gorgeous as he is for a house cat, Argenti is a free spirit who doesn’t like to be cooped up at home for long periods of time. Whenever he wants to go out, he’ll paw at the door or windows to signal for you to open them. You were nervous about letting him out at first but soon learned that his desire for the great outdoors was unstoppable. He would venture outside one way or another, much to your befuddlement. He enjoys exploring the neighborhood but always makes sure to come home before dark. As much as he loves adventuring, he loves being in your loving arms more.
🌹 Argenti has the temperament of an angel. You could do whatever you wanted to him, and he would gracefully take it without complaining or struggling. It makes doing things like taking him to the vet, bathing, and grooming extremely easy. You could even make him wear different outfits, and he won’t mind at all. He might even like wearing some of them.
🌹 Is very friendly. Whenever you have guests over, Argenti greets them at the door and purrs while rubbing against their legs. He also readily engages in play and comes if they call him. He does this with everyone who comes through your door, so he’s pretty well-liked among your social circle. However, he doesn’t sit on your guests’ laps or cuddle with them since he’s too active to be a lap cat. Such privileges are available only to you.
🌹 His overly friendly and affectionate personality extends to more than just people. He can purr for other animals he finds during his little excursions outdoors, or even inanimate objects. You once caught him rubbing up against one of your potted plants…
🌹 If you’re scared of insects, then Argenti is the cat for you. Whenever he hears you shriek because you saw a bug, he runs over to your side and promptly fends off the heinous critter. He easily catches and kills any insects so that you, his owner, don’t have to be scared anymore. You can sic him on anything, and he’ll get rid of it for you.
🌹 Argenti is sensitive to your emotional state. Whenever you’re upset, Argenti brings a toy over to you to try and get you to play with him and take your mind off whatever is bothering you. If that doesn’t cheer you up, then he lays down on your chest and licks at your face with his rough tongue. It’s his way of soothing you. He’ll purr on your chest until you feel better.
Jing Yuan:
🦁 A Maine Coon.
🦁 Is a big and lazy cat. Jing Yuan will chase a toy around the house if you play with him, but he generally prefers to snooze by a window while catching some rays of warm sun. He can more often than not be found napping in some cozy and warm corner of the house. When you’re not home, he’ll also sleep in your bed under the blankets.
🦁 Jing Yuan has a calm temperament. He’s very well-behaved during grooming and handles bathing, drying, and brushing like a champ. He’s chill as a cucumber and doesn’t put up a fight while you do your thing in maintaining his long coat. In fact, he’s so laidback, that you could squeeze and rub him all over and he won’t lash out at you, instead tolerating everything with what you can only describe as a smile.
🦁 As accepting as he is of all your affections, he has boundaries. Jing Yuan is generally not fond of being squeezed and terrorized, especially by people who invade his personal space (like rambunctious children or people who bury their faces in his fur). If one such person is in your home, Jing Yuan will vanish without a trace as soon as he hears their footsteps. He only tolerates such treatment from you because you’re his beloved owner.
🦁 Jing Yuan likes being petted and praised but prefers it if these affections come from you. He especially enjoys being brushed by you, and purrs when you comb through his fur. He can even fall asleep on our lap during brushing since the process relaxes him so much.
🦁 He’s a very intelligent cat. Sometimes you talk to him as if you were talking to a friend or family member, and Jing Yuan would meow back in response at appropriate times during the conversation, as if he were replying to your comments. He also has this intelligent look in his golden eyes, as if he understands everything you’re saying. It can be a bit uncanny at times.
🦁 On top of his ability to respond appropriately to your speech, Jing Yuan also easily senses whenever you’re upset. If you feel down, he will stick to your side or lay on your chest and purr until you feel better. If you cry, he’ll lick your tears away. He remains by your side until you’re all better, and won’t leave you alone for anything.
🦁 Is very curious about everything that you do. When you cook, Jing Yuan sits somewhere in the kitchen and watches you busy yourself with whipping up a meal for yourself. He likes to sniff the ingredients you’re working with, either to identify them or discover a food he hasn’t encountered before. Rest assured that he won’t eat anything without you explicitly offering it to him. However, if you have something yummy like fish or chicken cooking, he expects you to share some of it with him once it comes time to eat. He wants to eat delicious things too, not only cat food.
🦁 Frequently sees you off when you leave the house. Likewise, he patiently waits for you at the door when it’s time for you to come home. He’s a bit like a dog in that way.
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drunkenkissesatdusk · 2 months
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MADE FOR LOVIN' YOU BABY
pairings — max verstappen x reader
warnings — nothing but fluff, pretty much just domestic love yk, kinda like the Jason Todd one i wrote
summary — Max wasn't actually a mean guy outside of the grid, he was actually a very loving guy that you had fallen for.
notes — writing f1 stuff will this thrive like my batfam stuff (also this is on my computer so it might be different) (and i’m also kinda writing on my phone?? idk) and it’s crazy short whoops
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━━━━━━━ YOU WERE GLAD that Max was finally on his break. You could finally see him for a while, and he wasn't as busy with his media presence and all that. He was all yours until the season started back up again.
You could feel the stubble Max had yet to trim against your shoulder, and you tiredly turned to him, groaning before a smile landed across your face. Despite how early it was, Max's face was able to easily make up for that.
"Morning, Max." You scooted closer to him, kissing him softly. When you pulled away, you smiled happily at him. He smiled back, kissing you before you laid on his chest, feeling his heartbeat against your cheek.
You both stayed like that for another hour, before you got up and went to the kitchen while he delt with the few things he had to for the day. Eventually, he found you downstairs.
You had made a healthy enough breakfast, plating it up for the two of you to eat outside on your balcony. You two sat together on a small couch in a mess of tangled limbs. You remained there, even well after you both finished breakfast.
It was a comfortably quiet time, one the two of you had found yourselves accustomed to ever since he had begun his break from racing.
you had both found the time you spent together, tucked away in your home, had been spectacular thus far. you were now well adjusted to always having Max by you now.
“wish you could stay home like this forever.” you muttered tiredly into his chest, smiling when one of your cats hopped up to where they two of you laid together.
running your hand along the cats fur, you could feel Max looking at you. with a little effort, you finally met his eyes, which were filled with nothing but love and happiness.
“everyone on the grid is so wrong about you being a bad guy. you’re such a softie.” you teased, smiling and poking his side. he smiled wider, throwing his head back and laughing.
“you’re the only one who sees me this way, obviously everyone else thinks i’m a bad guy.” Max rolled his eyes.
“liar. not Charles. he’s probably more in love with you than me.” you joked, dropping your head back down onto his chest, listening to the steady beats of his heart.
it was calm all around. there weren’t any loud cars driving through, you could hear the birds around you two as the sky began to light up, the afternoon at a steady approach.
it just felt like morning. you two had on sweaters, blocking out the morning cold. eventually it would warm up a little more, but wouldn’t get unbearably warm like the summer would.
“i wish i could stay here forever, y’know. right here, on this couch, until we grow old and gray.” you began drawing patterns on his rising and falling chest. you felt it move with laughter, which made you laugh.
“go back inside and play Mario Kart?” Max grinned. you sat up, a determined look crossing your face as you nodded excitedly. you had bought the old Nintendo 64 console and multitude of fun games in Miami during the Miami Grand Prix. you and Max were obsessed.
round after round, insult after insult, it ended with the two of you laughing together in a mess of limbs on the floor.
all Max was made for was love, his insults never had any angry backing, his apologies were instantaneous after any argument, and his priorities in your relationship was very well set.
he did his best for you, and you returned the same bouts of love.
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masterlist — reminder that asks / requests are open!!
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theres-a-body-here · 1 year
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Scumtober- Day 10 (Knotting)
Legoshi x Male!reader
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If someone had told you at the beginning of your relationship with Legoshi that he would be the one to initiate sex, you probably would have laughed in their face.
So imagine your surprise when, after a particularly amazing date, Legoshi proposed that the two of you have sex the next night.
You didn't know what to expect. You're a virgin and as far as you know, he was too. To be honest, you were scared. You took enough biology to know that wolf knot plus a human ass would definitely mean pain. That's not even taking into consideration that Legoshi was way taller than wolves of his own species.
But you had time to prepare, so you did.
You followed every tutorial on Furrchan and Beastube, especially that one gay dude who Nair'd his ass on video and posted it onto the site. He seemed like the expert to go to. You went out shopping and frantically bought everything you might need for such a challenge. Lube, condoms, douche, and information pamphlets went into your cart.
You currently sat on Legoshi's bed bunk, waiting for him to arrive. You had showered, cleaned yourself out, and even used the shampoo that Legoshi liked. Everything had to go perfectly. You even had some soft music playing through a small speaker.
As you waited anxiously, the atmosphere in the room seemed to thicken with anticipation. Every sound that echoed down the hallway amplified your heartbeat just a little more, making each moment feel like an eternity.
Finally, after what felt like hours, there was a gentle knock on the door followed by its slow creak open. In walked Legosi, looking quite flustered as nervously walked over and sat on the bed with you.
"So…uhh," You muttered, not sure how to initiate sex. You were in the dark about these kinds of things.
At your hesitation, Legoshi's eyes darted around nervously before returning to meet yours halfway. He swallowed hard, taking a deep breath as he tried to find the words within him. His cheeks flushed under his fur even deeper at his own embarrassment.
Finally, he managed to squeak out softly, "Um... do you want me to undress first?" It was clear from his voice that this was foreign territory for him too; there was an uncertainty lacing every syllable.
You pause for a moment, trying to remember the pamphlet about healthy sexual relationships. "What if.....what if we help remove each other's clothes?" You finally manage to recite meekly as you fiddled with your thumbs.
At your suggestion, Legosi's eyes lit up slightly as he nodded eagerly. "Yeah," he murmured softly, "that sounds good."
With a snail's pace, he began reaching out to gently grab hold of your shirt hem. With a hesitant look in his eyes, he began to tug lightly, urging you to move closer so he could pull it off properly without letting go entirely. As he did so, he took note of your reaction—whether you were uncomfortable or enjoying the contact between them. You nod timidly and lift your arms up.
As soon as Legosi felt your permission through your lifted arms, he quickly grasped onto the idea and began pulling your shirt upwards with newfound confidence. His fingers brushing against your skin sent shivers down your spine. Once fully off, Legoshi started at your bare torso. He shifted closer as if wanting to take in the sight.
As Legoshi moved closer, his hot breath danced along your neck sending shivers down your spine. He couldn't resist taking in your scent, trying to commit it to memory forever. The way his nose grazed against your skin ignited a spark inside him, awakening primal desires that he didn't know existed until now. His heart raced faster as adrenaline coursed through his veins—this was intoxicating!
This set the pattern.
One of you would take off the other's article of clothing, then stare at their body. As the two of you progressively shed layers of clothing, the air between you became charged with electricity. Every brush of fingers against skin sent ripples of pleasure through your bodies. Even though you were both nervous and unsure, something about this exchange felt right.
Finally sitting face to face in nothing but their underwear, Legoshi couldn't tear his gaze away from you. He traced delicate patterns over your chest with his fingertips, marveling at how soft your skin felt beneath them. Meanwhile, you reached out to feel his soft fur.
Both of you blushed deeply as you realized where this was heading. Neither of you wanted to make the first move, fearful of crossing boundaries or being rejected. But despite your hesitations, neither could bring themselves to break eye contact either.
Slowly, almost reluctantly, Legoshi reached out towards your boxers, his fingers trembling slightly as they hovered just above the fabric. With bated breath, he slowly pulled down the waistband of your boxers, revealing your erect cock beneath. Your member twitched slightly at the sensation of cool air bathing it. After a few minutes of Legoshi staring in awe at your dick, You decide to return the favor and pull his briefs off.
As you pulled Legoshi's underwear off, exposing his hardened cock tentatively, he let out a soft moan of relief. Feeling increasingly bold, he reached out to touch your cock once again, stroking it slowly with his palm while looking into your eyes for any sign of discomfort.
Taking courage from his touch, you leaned in close, wrapping one arm around him to pull him close for a kiss. Your lips met in a tender kiss as your bodies pressed flush together. Your tongues tentatively explored each other's mouths as you began grinding your hips together in sync, rubbing your cocks against each other.
You shifted to lay in the bed. Legoshi didn't stop kissing you as he followed your movements. Fortunately, you had prepared for the next part since you didn't want to waste precious time. You had already lubed your hole prior. But it was still worrying to think about Legoshi's knotted cock fitting into your ass.
As you lay back on the bed, Legoshi couldn't help but stare at your ass, his heart pounding with desire. He knew that this was going to happen eventually, but seeing it right here in front of him made it all the more real.
His brow furrowed in concern when he saw the expression on your face, worry written all over it. "I don't want to hurt you," he murmured softly, his voice full of regret.
You shook your head reassuringly, trying to calm him down. "It's okay," you whispered back, placing a hand on his chest to steady him. "We can take things slow."
With a deep breath, Legoshi nodded slowly, still uncertain but willing to trust in your words. Together, you guided him closer, positioning his tip at your entrance. He had a strong grip on your hips and you placed your hands over his.
"Are you ready?" you asked quietly, meeting his eyes for reassurance. He nodded again, biting his lip as he prepared for the inevitable penetration. Slowly, carefully, he eased himself inside you, groaning softly at the tightness surrounding him.
As Legoshi pushed further into you, a sharp stab of pain shot through your body. You winced and let out a small cry, causing him to freeze midway. "Did I hurt you?" he asked worriedly, pulling back slightly. Closing your eyes tightly to block out the pain, you forced yourself to relax and breathe steadily. When you opened your eyes again, you saw the genuine concern reflected in Legosi's gaze. He looked truly frightened at the prospect of hurting you.
Reaching up, you cupped his cheek gently and smiled reassuringly. "No," you said softly, "just a bit of discomfort. Keep going..." Your voice trailed off as he resumed his thrusts, slowly pushing further into you. Despite the pain, you couldn't deny the intense pleasure mixed with it. The sensation of being filled by your boyfriend was overwhelming. As Legoshi picked up speed, his hands entwined with yours.
As Legoshi's pace quickened, sweat dripping down his fur, his movements became erratic yet powerful. Drool slipped past his parted lips, trailing down his chin as he lost himself in the motions. His eyes were glazed over, focused solely on you and the rhythmic movement of their bodies. His muscles tensed with each thrust, the sounds of fur slapping against skin filling the room.
Every time you cried out in pleasure or arched your back, it drove him even harder, his cock throbbing with need inside you. He lost track of time and place, consumed by the primal desire pulsing through him. All he could see was you and all he wanted was more.
Legoshi's voice cracked as he tried to speak, the heat building up inside him making it difficult to form coherent sentences. "Mmm... God, you feel so good," he moaned, his tongue tangled in his attempts to express himself.
As he continued to pound into you, his hips slapping against your ass, he managed to gather enough strength to whisper, "Please... tell me how much you love this... Tell me it's amazing!"
Despite his plea, he doubted anything could have prepared him for the wave of emotion that crashed over him when you finally answered, your voice hoarse with passion, "Yes... yes, it's incredible. Don't stop."
Legoshi's hand slid down between your legs, his rough fingers curling around your cock as he began to stroke it in time with his thrusts. Your moans of pleasure echoed off the walls, driving him wild with lust. Unable to contain himself any longer, he threw his head back and roared, the sound reverberating throughout the room.
Legoshi's moans grew more intense as his pace increased, his body trembling with the effort of holding back his climax. "I love you," he chanted between ragged breaths, his voice breaking with emotion. "God, I love you so much."
"I love you too," you replied between heavy pants as you felt your world spinning. Your body quivered with each thrust, the sensations overloading your senses. You clung to Legoshi and wrapped your legs around his waist for dear life as he stirred your guts with his cock. Before you knew it, your entire body tensed up as you came with a loud moan.
As you came, your body convulsing in pleasure as you spilled seed onto your stomach, Legoshi growled low in his throat. The sound vibrated against your skin. Seeing your release only fueled his desire further, and he continued to pound into you, determined to claim his own release.
Legoshi's entire body tensed up as he felt his orgasm approaching, his movements becoming more frantic as he neared the edge. Just as he felt like he couldn't hold back anymore, he let out a loud, primal yell. In one thrust, he slammed his knot into you, locking into place with a wet popping sound. He released himself inside you, filling you up with his warm cum as his knot kept you in place. You whimper as you feel it coat your insides. His body shuddered violently as he let out a long, drawn-out moan.
Legoshi stayed buried deep inside you, his body still trembling with excitement. He nuzzled against your face affectionately, soft kisses scattered across your neck and shoulders. "I'm so sorry if it hurts," he whispered softly.
You ran your fingers through his fur gently, offering reassurance as you spoke, "It's okay." You paused for a moment before adding, "Besides, maybe it won't be so bad having us stuck together like this for a while." You gave him a playful smirk which only served to make him flustered even more.
You both spent the rest of the night cuddling closely together, occasionally shifting positions to ease the discomfort caused by his knot. As sleep claimed you both, you drifted off happily knowing Legoshi was connected to you, physically and emotionally.
Scumtober 2023 Masterlist
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obsessive-valentine · 9 months
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Sleepy time with the yanderes
I’ve got bad writers block so have this in the mean time, sorry guys :/
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Barbarian - You wake up to thunder and find yourself wrapped up in many layers of fur, more than you had fallen asleep with, you are warm and snug and cannot see even your hand infront your face, all you hear is the pitter patter of rain on the tent roof and the quiet snores of the barbarian next to you. You almost instantly fall back asleep.
Childhood Friend Fae - The room is dimly lit by the small pile of logs in the fireplace -you hear them crackle and pop- watching the dying flames dance as your eyes get heavy, you can also hear him flip a book page as he reads beside you. By the time the fireplace dies you find sleep -he blows out the candle he was using to read before joining you under the covers and snaking a arm around your waist. “Sleep well love”
Fisherman - Aged handmade knitted and patchwork blankets rub against you, laying your head on him it rises and falls with his chest and a muffled heartbeat and hand that rubs your back lulls you to sleep. Your breaths synced a long time ago.
Vampire - You keep the dim table lamp on to chase away the shadows of the unfamiliar room, looking around at the old paintings and decor, the wind whistles through the old windows and doors and the luxurious silk sheets do little to comfort you; however the almost inaudible violin he plays on the other side of the manor reaches your ears and comforts you enough to find sleep.
Platonic mad-scientist - You lay on the small leather sofa in his study, cheek squished against a pillow and fast asleep, with his back to you he intensely writes at his desk. It’s dark outside but the room is fairly lit, you still however found sleep to the sound on the pen and his muttering. He shuts his book and drops the pen, you hear the faint steps in your subconscious of him coming to take you to bed. “Let’s get you to bed”
Classic Yandere - The cold cuff stubbornly hugs your ankle a harsh contrast to the gentle fingers that trace patterns on your arm, the murmurs of the tv and it’s light dimly bouncing off the walls making the walls glow and flicker aids in your quest to find sleep. You fall asleep faster than usual due to emotional exhaustion from the long day. His eyes peel away from the film to glance at you seeing you asleep he doesn’t stop tracing patterns on your arms. “I love you”
Hockey player - He convinced you to stay over his house for the night, you both talked and laughed till you fell asleep the house now quiet aside from the sound of cars and people out late on the streets that slipped in through the window. He dreamed of where he’d take you for the first date.
Changing husband - Your stomach is full from the dinner he helped you cook and you felt content with your day, at peace, and most importantly -in love. With his arm draped over you he dozed in something similar to the sleep you experience but dreamless and light, he was almost silent aside from some shuffling letting you know he’s still very much alive. The comforting arm was all you needed to fall asleep.
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chheolie · 3 months
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kkuma coups' best friend!
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dokyeom was in the kitchen when he heard a familiar yet unusual sound coming from the living room.
the sound of happy little paws padding on the floor made him abandon what he was doing to follow the noise.
"oh," he exclaimed excitedly, "look who's here!" the small, furry one initially startled, but soon ran towards her best friend, who was waiting for her crouched down with a broad smile on his face.
excited, she wagged her tail with joy, jumping and playing in the lap of her aunt choi y/n’s longtime boyfriend.
"tell uncle where you're spending the weekend,"y/n said in a sweet voice to kkuma.
"really?" dokyeom asked, his eyes sparkling.
she nodded, "my brother has to travel."
he nodded eagerly, standing up to grab kkuma's bag still on y/n shoulder.
"kkuma, have you eaten yet, kkuma?" he asked, opening the bag as if talking to a baby.
she watched him attentively, tongue out, curious to see what he would pull out from inside.
as the evening settled, dokyeom and y/n found themselves cozying up in bed. the room was softly lit, casting a warm glow over their peaceful sanctuary. they lay close, sharing gentle caresses and quiet whispers about their day.
"i can't believe how fast the week went by," y/n said, her fingers lightly tracing patterns on dokyeom's arm.
"i know," he replied, his hand resting comfortably on her waist. "it feels like just yesterday we were planning our weekend."
as they enjoyed the tranquility, they heard the familiar sound of little paws approaching. kkuma trotted into the room, her tail wagging happily. she looked up at the bed with eager eyes.
"looks like someone wants to join us," dokyeom said with a chuckle.
y/n smiled and patted the bed, inviting kkuma up. the small dog jumped up eagerly and nestled herself between them, her warm body a comforting presence.
"she loves staying here at our house." y/n said, stroking kkuma's fur.
"can't blame her," dokyeom replied, leaning in to kiss y/n's forehead. "who wouldn't love spending time with you?"
they lay there for a while, talking about their day-to-day lives. y/n mentioned her brother's trip and how he was excited about it.
"do you think seungcheol misses her already?" dokyeom asked, glancing at kkuma, who was now dozing off.
"probably," y/n said with a gentle laugh. "but she's having a great time here. and it's nice to have her around, even if it's just for the weekend."
dokyeom nodded, feeling content. "it's nice having you both here," he said, tightening his embrace around y/n.
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fluffyfluffyscarecrow · 11 months
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Scarecrow, Two Face, Penguin, Mad Hatter, and Mr. Freeze with a Partner who Sleeps With A Plush of Them
Inspired by the Scarecrow and Two Face plushies I sewed.
Scarecrow
You had spent days hand-sewing this plush doll of Jonathan Crane, and though it wasn't perfect, you had put a lot of love into it.
The doll appeared to stare up at you with its button eyes while you held its floppy, huggable body and stroked its soft hair. It was like an exact copy of Jonathan, just smaller. And probably less likely to commit crimes.
Jonathan would be incredibly surprised to see the plush- lots of times when people made artistic interpretations of him they were meant to be terrifying. He had never seen a version of himself this...cuddly. He doesn't mind it, though. In fact, he's quite flattered.
When you tell him about how you cuddle the plush at night he practically melts.
Two Face
You made most of the plush Two Face with soft minky fabric, but decided to add something extra- faux fur on the white side of his hair and dot textured minky for his scars. He was perfect.
The first time you showed it to Harvey, he was speechless. His fingers ran across the soft fabrics you had used to capture him so lovingly, and you might have even seen a tear roll down the unscarred side of his face. Two Face is the one to break the silence, saying "you really want to cuddle me that much?"
When you admit to them you cuddle the plush at night to feel close to them, they immediately wrap you in a massive hug. You hug them back of course, making sure to kiss their scars.
Penguin
Oswald had always been insecure about his appearance, and no matter how much you tried to encourage and support him with words, hugs, everything...it always seemed as if his trauma would make him feel unworthy of you. So you got an idea. You would show him exactly how you saw him, in the form of a cuddly plushie.
You had to modify your pattern quite a bit to make it accurate, but it was worth it. The plush Penguin sat before you with its arms outstretched, just waiting to be held.
You paid extra attention to translating the parts of himself Oswald was insecure about into the plush- intricately sewn hands, a prominent beak-like nose, his cuddly, plump body, and of course his long, soft hair.
You're a bit nervous to show the plush to him as you're not sure how he'll react, so you start kind of awkwardly.
"Uh...I...I really wanted to show you how wonderful you are in my eyes and I...I adore every single part of you, so I made this..."
Oswald doesn't know what to think at first, but he's incredibly touched. He still tries to play it cool, of course.
"I mean, you could always have a life-sized version of me if you want."
Catch him off guard by kissing his nose and wrapping him in a hug.
Mad Hatter
Okay, uh.. You didn't sew this one. You just kinda found a Disney Mad Hatter plushie on Ebay or something and thought it reminded you of Jervis.
(Fun fact, I actually do have this plush and he's very soft!)
Even if you didn't sew it, Jervis freaking loves it. You want to cuddle? With him??? So badly that you got a plushie to hold when he wasn't there to comfort you????
Mr. Freeze
This man is very insecure about how he's unable to cuddle you due to his physical state, so you get an idea.
The plush was honestly kind of hard to make, with all the intricate details of his suit, but it was absolutely worth it. You even added a voice box inside so you could hear his sweet German accent whenever you wanted.
Also you added a small tuft of fluffy fabric for his hair, (ik BTAS doesn't have that but HQTAS does and I freaking love it so it's going here!)
He absolutely cries when you show it to him.
You wrap your arms around him when he does, it stings a bit but it's worth it to see him smile.
For Christmas that year you make him a Nora plushie, with magnets in her hands so she can hold hands with your Mr. Freeze plush.
You better believe he cuddles his Nora plush every day. It's not even close to having his wife back of course, but it does relieve some of the pain to get to hold her again.
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atom-writings · 10 months
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hiii can i request russia, canada, germany and greece seeing their s/o wearing their clothes for the first time? good luck on ur finals :D !!
hetalia russia, canada, germany, and greece seeing their s/o wear their clothes
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1.0k words ~ gender neutral headcanons / scenarios
tw: none!
a/n: holy shit tthis request is so old that its a new finals season :sob: guys im trying. ALSO idk how to write greece. but hopefully its ok
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Russia
Ivan wouldn’t know what to do with himself if you wore his clothing. Like, he just never expected anyone to ever… want to do that?
Plus, if you’re any shorter than 6’ 5”, his clothes are more like blankets than anything wearable.)
Mornings at Ivan's house were always cold. His dacha had been built long before the invention of home heating systems, and he had always refused to modernize anything he owned.
So, when you finally woke up, you grabbed one of Ivan's jackets to keep yourself warm while you made breakfast. It was huge, on him and you, and lined with fur from animals killed centuries ago.
The house was quiet aside from the quiet sizzling of an egg on a pan. Or at least, it was until you heard the dull thuds drawing closer behind you.
In an instant, Ivan wrapped his firm arms around you, picking you up off the floor for a second.
“G-Good morning to you too,” You tease him softly. All he responds with is a quiet grunt, muffled as he buries his face in your hair.
“Should I make you something too?”
He shook his head, “You are too perfect to be cooking right now...”
“Aww, Ivan...”
”Please wear things like this more often...“ He mumbled, seemingly embarrassed.
”What, your things? Should I steal more jackets?“
“Yes... please...“ He said, and you could feel his smile, even if you couldn't see it.
He just can't get enough of you wearing his stuff. He thinks it makes you two look like a real couple. Then everyone will know that you're his (:
Canada
From the start of your relationship, Matthew had been trying to subtly coerce you into wearing his clothes. It's like, one of his main relationship goals.
So if you did it without him asking, his brain would fry.
“D-Dear, what are you- a-are you...?” Matthew's shaking voice makes it way past your earbuds, which you promptly rip out.
You turn away from your desk to face him, and his face immediately lights up.
”Sorry, I- I didn't have an-“ Is all you sputter out before you're interrupted by a hug that sends you tumbling backwards. He's warm as he curls around you, resting his head in the crook of your neck.
”Oh. Uh-”
“W-Wait, sorry... I- I didn't mean to um-”
“You're f-”
“No- I mean-” He pulls away, letting go of you completely.
“Math-”
“Sorry!”
“MATTHEW,” You finally manage to break him out of his stuttering state, “It's fine.”
He averts his gaze as he stands before you, awkwardly playing with his hoodie cuffs, ”I- I just really think you're um- cute in that...“
”Matt, it's just a hoodie.“
”Yeah but it- it has um... that...“ He points to the maple leaf pattern covering the hoodie. That makes you pause, looking up at him like he said something weird.
“It's just leaves.”
His cheeks immediately turn the same shade as the leaves on his hoodie, ”W-Well! It's better than stars and stripes!“
Seriously, anything that shows that you're showing him over America will make him go crazy.
Germany
Ludwig doesn't have a lot of casual clothes, so you're kind of limited in your “stealing t-shirts for pyjamas” options
And sorry to disappoint, but his stoic demeanour isn't getting majorly cracked even by that.
It was a rare occurrence for Ludwig to let you do anything around the house. He cooked the meals, he cleaned the dishes, he did most of the laundry, and the sweeping, mopping, and literally any other task that had to be done. So, in a moment you thought would never come, you were actually excited to be doing the dishes for him.
But, because of his disaster of a “modern, ergonomic” sink, that meant getting water all over your shirt. And seeing how you were wearing something nice for a date night with him, you only had one choice. Throwing on one of his torn and faded old t-shirts.
After a few minutes of washing the dishes alone, Ludwig took his place beside you, leaning against the counter and watching you intently.
“Yes?“ You prompt him, and he immediately looks a little embarrassed.
”Thanks for doing this.“
”You do this every night, so like, it's fine?“
”Y-Yes, but, I still appreciate it.“ He tells you quickly, before placing a hang on your shoulder. You turn off the water for a moment, plunging the kitchen into silence again.
Before you could register it, you were pulled closer to him. 
“You should wear my things more often…” He mumbled before leaning down to kiss your cheek.
“Buy more normal person clothes then.”
Then he pulled away with a groan, “OK, the moment is over.”
Greece
Heracles probably didn't even notice until you said something. Anytime he's looking at you, your clothes are the last thing he registers.
”Oh, wait... uh- sorry,“ You blurt out once you look down and remember what you're wearing, ”I forgot to ask if I could...“
He looks over you as your hands fidget with the hem of his oversized t-shirt. The design said something in Greek, but all you could make out were the words ”FOOD“ and ”CATS” (It was more important that it was comfortable than stylish.) For his part, he looked completely disinterested in whatever you were saying.
“If you could what?” Heracles asks, his tone dry and tired.
“If I could wear your shirt...”
“Oh,” Then he glances over your direction, barely looking over his tea, ”Yes, I see that now.“
”Do you... care?“
”No.“ He says as if what you had just asked was as obvious as the colour of the sky. Despite that, it didn't seem to bother or excite him in the slightest.
He might find it a little amusing when his clothes don't fit you, but generally he doesn't care. He believes strongly in the idea that ”What's his is yours, and what's yours is his.“
Because of that, he'll steal your clothes too. And he might rip them. Oops.
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p0rk-guts · 15 days
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HUSKER!!!! Husk. Whatever. THIS OLD CAT!!!! ^ - ^
comparison + breakdown ⬇️
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Look idk what possible lore reasons there could be for Husk having bird wings and tail feathers whether it's hidden somewhere online or to be determined later in the show even though I can't for the life of me even guess why they're there (if you've got any hc's tho I'd love to hear em) but I just got rid of em entirely, at least for the time being. Declutters him a little. They're definitely a little much.
And I've always hated those buttons on his chest fur... Are they part of his pattern.... Are they hot glued on...... What is it with Viv and melting clothing and flesh together.........
He also does NOT look 60-70 like at all (pretty sure that's canon but I just got it off the wiki) so I tried to remedy that by giving him more wrinkles and creases. He's a Persian cat thing now bc some of them really do be lookin like mustache wearing old guys fr. Also his neck fluff is sorta supposed to allude to facial hair w/ some greying sprinkled in! He's officially like... 62 now. + He's fatter bc 1) beer belly 2) Persian cat build and 3) Vivzie twink fatigue
Husk's outfit is objectively silly for his grown ass to be wearing but I like the hc I've seen around as that being a stipulation in his deal with Alastor where he figuratively and literally "took the shirt off his back". Considering how as an overlord he had a nice suit and he (possibly. Definitely In headcanons) doesn't even like showing off sinner features, or his body at all, especially not in such a way. Is this canonically the case? Probably not. But hey 🤷🏾‍♀️
I made some comparatively minimal changes there. I undid his tie bc man's usually drunk and doesn't have the energy to fuss with it. I also gave the ends a bit of a spade shape. The clasps on his suspenders are meant to be clovers and there are still hearts on his hands. For the diamond face... I kinda tried to put it into his tail? But that's kinda iffy so 3.5/4 card faces achieved 👍🏾
Turned his top hat into a more flat wide brim hat that i could NOT for the life of me find a name for... Just wider fedoras I think? but they seemed to be kinda popular at the time. For my Husk, as an overlord he occasionally wore a fancy top hat when he was showing off, and now this is like. His downgrade replacement he's got to wear. + Some playing cards tucked into the hat band!
Made those yellows his primary colors bc in my rewrite greed is gold and I definitely think that would've been one of his major sins in life. Also a bit of gluttony too, which I made orange, so I added some of those tones in there. Allsoo after fussing with the colors for literal days I stilllll kindahateemalittle BUT IT'S FINE. I'll figure it out
And that's all for him!! Realized I forgot to put the little anti Viv banner on my last post but then again idgaf fr it's whatever. If you don't know I hate her you'll learn before long
And, of course, dvelopment sketches 4 sticking around!!!!
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Ok that's all bye ✌🏾🧍🏾‍♀️
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writingjourney · 6 months
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Of Lemon Tarts and Tiny White Rabbits
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Secondo, Earl of Griftwood, cannot believe his eyes when a tiny white rabbit scampers into his study. He is stunned even more when he meets the lovely owner of the pet – and promptly falls in love.
pairing: secondo x female!reader // regency AU
content: 4.6k words, regency AU (not 100% historically accurate but I tried), pov third person, forbidden romance, age gap, first kisses, social hierarchies, mildly suggestive at times, soft!secondo, pining and yearning etc., wingman terzo
This is a birthday present for the lovely @tasty-ribz , also special thanks to @angellayercake for encouraging me to bring Snowbell into this story ✨🐰
Masterlist – Ao3 link
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The curtains sway gently in the soft breeze that carries a fragrant spring air into his study. Secondo lifts his gaze to take in the lovely view through the open double doors which lead to a balcony and the well-kept gardens of Emeritus Manor. Lush rose bushes climb up the stone walls and wrap around the railings, dark green speckled with the pink of countless flowers. Somewhere in the trees the birds break out in song, their melodic chirping a pleasant background noise that accompanies him as he maintains his correspondence.
After this short reprieve for his eyes, he dips the quill back into the black pot of ink on his bureau. A few more letters and he can settle outside in the shade for his afternoon tea, perhaps even indulge and allow himself a lemon tart to go with it. He can’t remember hiring a new cook and yet he swears the smell of freshly baked pastries has filled the halls of the estate more frequently as of late, their taste tempting even him who is usually not one for desserts.
A movement in his peripheral vision distracts him momentarily but when he looks up there is nothing unusual to be seen. Secondo watches the curtains, assuring himself that it must have been the wind playing tricks on him. With a frown on his face, he focuses back on his letters. After a moment, however, he glances back up, suddenly sensing a presence in the room. When he still cannot detect anything out of the ordinary, he assumes that it must have been a ghost wandering the old halls of the manor – it would not be the first time.
Over the scratching sounds of his quill he almost misses the tiny squeak that passes his ears only a moment later. A mouse? No ghosts that haunt him after all. He lets his eyes roam the walls that are lined with bookshelves, trying to spot any scurrying movements on the elaborately patterned rug that muffles the sound. At last, he glances down to his feet and surprise takes over his stern features.
A white baby rabbit sits next to his shoe, its tiny pink nostrils moving rapidly as it sniffs the leather with utmost interest. The creature cannot be bigger than his palm. Where could it possibly come from? As far as he is aware, they do not keep any rabbits, let alone breed them.
“Snowbell?” The voice that suddenly sounds from the balcony is soft and melodic, a young woman he cannot quite place. “Snowbell, where did you go?”
Her figure appears in the frame a mere moment later and she flinches back when she spots Secondo at his desk through the open doors. She immediately averts her eyes, her hair falling into her face and covering her features.
“Please, forgive me for the disturbance, my lord.”
“There is nothing to forgive,” he replies. “I understand you are looking for this little troublemaker here?” 
Secondo leans down to pick up the rabbit. Indeed it fits neatly into his gloved palm and he regrets that he cannot feel the soft fur against his fingers. The bunny breathes rapidly, its small body excited or scared, he cannot quite tell.
“Oh, you found her! Thank the lord, I thought she was lost forever.”
“Will you relieve me of her, then? She seems quite restless.”
The young woman who he cannot remember seeing before cautiously enters and with a lowered gaze approaches his desk. Secondo admires her for a moment, her striking complexion and the mesmerising way with which hair shimmers in the golden sunlight. Young and innocent, the daughter of a servant perhaps if the state of her dress is any indication. Yet it does not diminish her beauty nor her youthful radiance; he can tell that she is perhaps five-and-twenty.
She reaches for the bunny and he hands it over the desk, feeling her fingers brushing against his. Again he regrets the barrier between his skin and the world around him but even so he can tell that the heat has risen to her cheeks. She does not seem to be used to the presence of her superiors. He’s well aware of his reputation as a rather reserved and intimidating employer.
“I am not certain that I know your name,” he says before she can scurry off, skittish like the tiny animal that appears a little taller now in her smaller hands.
She replies with her name and a curtsy, not quite lady-like in practice but Secondo can tell that she must have enjoyed a good upbringing. Perhaps she has experience working for nobility.
“Where do you belong to, my girl?”
“I am François’s daughter, my lord.”
“Ah, sì, the new gardener?”
“Yes, my lord.”
He nods, watching her pet the rabbit with her slender fingers as if to calm herself. “And how do you like it here?”
“It is extraordinarily beautiful, my lord. The estate is magnificent and I quite enjoy the work in the kitchens.”
“The kitchens? So it is you who prepares these scrumptious lemon tarts?”
She nods, smiling a bit shyly. “It is a French recipe, my lord. My mother taught me how to make it when I was a wee girl and she worked for the Earl of Carlisle.”
“Are there any lemon tarts today, per chance?”
“I made a fresh batch just this morning, my lord.”
“Wonderful. Now, bring your Snowbell to safety before she scuttles away again.”
“Thank you most kindly, my lord. I promise to be more careful when I take her outside.”
He watches the young woman’s retreating form, reminding himself not to covet what he should not have. It is quite hard at the sight of such a sublime creature, though he rarely allows himself to indulge in thoughts of his carnal desires. The way she takes care of the animal tells him that she has a kind soul and how he could he ever taint it with his rotten hands?
Secondo stands to take his afternoon tea, looking forward to a generous serving of the fresh lemon tarts. He closes the balcony doors before he departs, his correspondence quite forgotten.
✦ ✧ ✦
He is too absorbed in his brother’s letter to notice the music at first.
When he finally does Secondo stops in the middle of the hallway. Rarely does he hear such sweet sounds these days, busy with politics and finances as he is. Ever since inheriting his father’s title as the Earl of Griftwood he is subjected to ball music, loud opera pieces and the talentless daughters of the other lords of the ton. 
This subdued private concert is much more to his liking. 
He folds the letter and pockets it before investigating the source of the music. Primo has written to him from Italy where his clerical duties keep him occupied. Secondo is relieved to learn that his brother is in good health and filling his new role as the leader of their secret church for which he has forsaken his role as the head of their family. A title that has now fallen to Secondo.
Following the trail of the music carries him further down the hall until he stops in front of a double door that stands slightly ajar. The sitting room beyond is abandoned safe for the person who has taken up residence behind the pianoforte and is now delighting the house with their pleasant tunes. Secondo is not one to swoon but when he discovers the gardener’s daughter, watching as her fingers glide over the keys in an elegant dance, he is quite taken with the sight of her. 
It is only after quite some time that he spots the rabbit in her lap.
The piece ends all too soon but Secondo cannot bring himself to reveal his position. He watches on as she lifts Snowbell and places her tiny paws on the keys, playing an easy melody as she giggles and compliments her pet’s musical talent. He thinks that the snow white rabbit is an emblem of her most becoming properties – her soft and lovely presence, her gentle disposition and ethereal beauty. Two creatures that heaven must have forged together. Not for a moment does he think he could ever be worthy of her, no matter if his nobility raises him above her in this strict society. She transcends the rules of birthright and social rank, rules that he has always rejected, if not openly. Perhaps this is why he feels so drawn to her – she represents all that he has ever longed for, all that they strive to achieve with their church of Lucifer.
“I did not know we had a musician in the house,” he finally comments. “Or need I say two musicians?”
She jumps, again, startled by his domineering presence that takes over the room the moment he steps inside. After a few deep breaths she recovers and offers a polite greeting. Snowbell sits in her hand now, no bigger than a baby chick and just as restless. Her head rises as if to greet him as well, tiny button eyes shimmering not without mischief.
“Your brother told me it was alright for me to practice in here and that it is his instrument–”
“I am sorry, my dove, I did not mean to accuse you of anything untoward. Of course you may practice your music in here. We have been deprived of such beautiful sounds for way too long with no ladies in the house.”
Her shoulders sink in relief, the tension finally leaving her. “I hear that his lordship is quite a gifted musician himself. As are his brothers.”
“Ah, sì, sì, if only there was more time for it. I find that without pleasant company I cannot persuade myself to dedicate the time.” He steps further inside the room and takes a seat on one of the velvet settees, moderately close to where she’s now lowering herself back on her stool. His black breeches strain over his thighs and he adjusts his emerald green waistcoat that has ridden up, rights the knot in his cravat. “You play well, piccina. How did you come to master the pianoforte?”
“I may not be of noble upbringing, my lord, but my parents used all their means to ensure that I was educated, perhaps more than befits my station.” Her voice is sharp, not unfriendly but defensive nonetheless. “A person’s rank in society does not determine their talent for musical play.”
“I apologise if I offended your sensibilities, my dove. I did not mean to imply that your origin should have anything to do with your capability of learning an instrument.”
“No apologies are needed, my lord. It is true that such opportunities are not provided to many of my status. I cherish my privileges every day.”
Her eloquence and quick wit impress him, the dignified countenance with which she holds herself even in the face of an older man much above her in station. It would be easy to think that she is a noble lady, if it weren’t for her lack of fine clothing and jewellery. He fights off the urge to accoutre her, to dress her in the finest garments he can find in all of London and Paris or Rome. How lovely she would look with her hair done up, her slender neck exposed for his eyes alone. 
And not just for his eyes.
Before he can inquire any further, Snowbell suddenly leaps from her lap. The rabbit lands on the soft carpet and scampers over towards the settee on her tiny legs.
“Oh, not again Snowbell,” the girl laments, but then she notices the rabbit’s direction and smiles softly. “I suppose she has taken a liking to you, my lord.”
“I hope she is not the only one,” he counters, allowing himself this moment of reverie.
Flustered, she averts her gaze, reacting in much the same way that he hoped she would. “Who could not be taken with him when his lordship is so very generous and kind of heart?”
Secondo smiles to himself as he leans down to pick up the cheeky rabbit, removing one of his dark leather gloves to finally feel the softness of her fur.  “How did you come in possession of such an animal?” he finds himself asking. “She is quite unusual, no?”
“Oh, my father was engaged to work for another noble house in the city just before we came here and he found a nest in their garden. Snowbell was the only white rabbit of the litter. While the children of the house were allowed to keep the other rabbits they thought her cursed and wanted to kill her. I begged him to let me save her and bring her here.”
How charitable, he thinks, saving those who are unwanted, those who are abandoned by God, not differentiating between human or beast. How perfectly she would fit into his family whose ideals and values would have them shunned from society if they lived them openly. Perhaps it was not God who sent her but Lucifer himself. For him to love, to cherish, to worship.
He is aware that he is getting ahead of himself.
Snowbell allows him to pet her but he eventually stands to place the rabbit back in her saviour’s hands. This time, her fingers brush against the bare skin of his palm. A shiver runs through him, tingling down his spine before settling warmly in his lower belly.
Her heated cheeks are evidence that she feels the same way.
“Do you enjoy reading, my girl?” he asks, only now noticing the book she must have placed on the instrument. A romance novel, he notes, not without a hint of disappointment. He could not be any more different from the heroes of such tales if he tried.
“I do, my lord.” She cradles Snowbell gently against her bosom, almost protectively, and he has to tear is his eyes away from the soft skin there. “I am an avid reader when I do find the time.”
“Please, feel free to use my personal library at your convenience. I am sure that you are in want of new reading material. This book appears to be… well-loved.”
“Are you quite certain, my lord? I would not want to impose–”
“Oh, nonsense. Many of the books have been collecting dust for way too long.”
Perhaps this suggestion stems from him wanting her to frequent his spaces and not those of his brother, if only to raise his chances of running into her. If Terzo offered her his instrument then he is sure that his eyes are not the only ones that she has caught. Secondo shares many a thing with his brother, but he will not share her.
“Thank you, my lord,” she says. “I am not sure what I have done to deserve your generosity but I shall cherish it forever.”
“Hm, your services are well-appreciated, my dove. I merely wish to make your life here a little more pleasant.”
She giggles. “His lordship must really like the lemon tarts.”
Her laughter shakes him to his very core. He is tempted to smile, or to tell her that it is not the tarts that have captivated him, but all this foolish impulse does is distort his stern features into a grimace. Before her eyes can linger on him, he departs with quick steps and a racing heart, making sure to leave the door open.
A few moments later the soft tunes of her music accompany him back to his study.
✦ ✧ ✦
The rustling of the page is a steady noise in the background as he works away at the desk he strategically positioned in his library. The expense reports of the estate are all in order and yet he goes over them once more – if only to stretch out the time in her presence. 
He looks up to find Snowbell happily munching on a carrot in her little crate on the floor. His true heart’s desire, however, is reading a romance novel that he so graciously stocked the library with. Not that anyone will ever see a report of this particular expense.
“Are the new books to your liking, my dove?” he finds himself asking.
“They are quite enjoyable, my lord.” She looks up, marking her page before she closes the book. “And yet… I find that I do not want a love like these books promise. It sounds rather boring to me.”
“How so?”
“The true appeal of a person lies in his or her imperfections, my lord. Not even the finest, most handsome young man could tempt me when there is no flaw in his character that captures my interest. If I should ever fall in love it should be with a man much older who has been shaped by the hardships of life, with rough edges but a core that still carries a soft heart that he only shows to those he holds dear. I should like to uncover this heart and have it beat only for me.”
Secondo pauses for a moment. Could it be true? Could a beautiful young woman like her truly fall for an old man such as himself? Accept that their love would be flawed and rejected by society and love him all the more for it? If it is true what she implies then does he dare hope–
“You are quite different from what I expected, my lord,” she says before his thoughts can carry him away. “I have heard many things that I now know to be untrue.”
“And how so?”
“Everyone told me that you were quiet and rather cold, polite but not in the habit of keeping anyone’s company and while generous with your staff they said it is rare to see you outside of your study. And yet… I have only ever sensed your warmth, your generosity, and while you are a private man I feel as though I got to know you merely by being in the same room and striking up idle conversation. You have requested my presence almost daily as of late and I must admit that I find great comfort in spending my time with you, so much so that I feel sad when a day goes by and I cannot see you.”
Secondo stands abruptly, overwhelmed by the sudden sparks of emotion that ignite the fire in a heart he has long since thought to be withered. His long legs carry him to where she is sitting on a plush settee, the golden sun from the window illuminating her like an angel incarnate. She is a dream he finds himself caught in, and not of his own volition.
“My dove,” he says as he kneels down in front of her, grasping her hand tightly in his. “Your companionship is the greatest gift that I have ever received.”
He presses a fervent kiss to her knuckles, quite overcome with his desires. How he longs to pull her into his embrace, to kiss her plump cheeks and soft lips, to keep her trapped against his chest and stroke her hair for hours.
When he meets her eyes, she seems surprised by his sudden outburst, but not at all repelled like he had feared. “My dear lord, how I wish we could have met under different circumstances.”
Secondo releases a shuddering breath and buries his face in her lap. When she begins to caress his head, running her soft fingers along the sharp lines of his cheekbones, he feels like he wants to weep.
✦ ✧ ✦
The delivery goes smoothly – until his brother appears in the doorway.
“A new instrument?” Terzo asks. “Whatever for? You could have asked to use mine, fratello.”
Secondo grumbles in reply, wishing his brother would finally leave. He is dressed smartly – a dark purple brocade waistcoat with a matching tailcoat, black breeches, a white cravat, high leather boots and a brand new top hat – ready to leave for a picnic or whatever social event he is planning to attend in pursuit of his latest sweetheart. He has always mirrored Secondo’s expensive taste in clothing but decided that his colour was purple instead of green. If it weren’t for Secondo’s lack of hair and Terzo’s thick black locks their brotherly relation would be uncanny, if not a little ridiculous.
“Do you not have to make an appearance somewhere else?” Secondo asks when his brother lingers while they set up the pianoforte under his watchful eyes. 
“Oh, I still have enough time to observe my brother’s folly. Tell me, did she bewitch you so that you are wasting the family’s funds now? How exactly do you plan on introducing the gardener’s daughter to polite society, fratello?”
A deep breath. Secondo cannot strangulate him in front of the suppliers. “I do not know what you are talking about. I merely wish to possess an instrument of my own.”
“Mhm and the ornate rabbits carved into the wood? Are those to your taste as well?”
“I am very fond of animals. I quite enjoy the design, do you not find it endearing?”
Terzo merely chuckles in reply, the words altogether unfamiliar from his bother’s tongue, and pats his shoulder with a heavy hand. “I will make sure that the pamphlets are filled with someone else’s transgressions, should you decide that a diversion of the ton’s attention is needed in light of your imminent marriage to a commoner.”
Secondo refuses to argue with him, Terzo is too smart for that. Instead he waits until they are alone again and his brother further inspects the pianoforte. The tunes he lures from the keys are splendid, much richer in sound than any he has heard before. A good investment, Secondo decides.
“What a splendid instrument,” his brother says. “I shall hope that your little rabbit plays it for you on many an occasion.”
“I plan to have her play it for me every day for as long as I live.”
Terzo raises a brow. “So you do intend to propose? My, my! I did not expect you to ever let go of your determination to stay alone for the rest of your days. What has changed?”
“I met the loveliest creature to walk this earthly plane, fratello, I have been touched by her angelic hands and saw the true meaning of paradise. I do not care much what polite society has to say about our union. I am quite ready to be selfish after I sacrificed my freedom for this family.”
“And politics, your favourite subject?”
“I do not plan to advertise this marriage, fratello. I shall be ready to face all the consequences, for her love will carry me through the worst of it.”
“Oh, how you have changed!” Terzo snickers but not unkindly. “I am very happy for you, brother mine. She will make a lovely wife for an old grump such as yourself.”
“You are just as old,” Secondo says dismissively. “And yet you act like a bachelor in the prime of his youth.”
“And I shall continue to do so for as long as I can. If you will excuse me now, I have a rendezvous to attend and I am already late.”
The moment Terzo departs, Secondo allows his own hands to explore the pianoforte. He is quite out of practice but the finely tuned instruments sounds wonderful even under his stiff fingers. An old song finds its way into his head and he allows his memory to do the rest of the work.
When he finally finishes, he is pulled from his trance by the loveliest of voices.
“My lord, you asked for me,” she says timidly as she approaches him. “I do not wish to interrupt when you play such lovely songs.”
“You are not interrupting, my dove. Please, come here, sit down in my stead. This is yours now.”
“Oh, but my lord–” She trails off, her pupils widening at the sight of the brand new instrument.
He is not certain what he did to upset her. “If you would rather play a harp or a lyre–”
“No, no, that is not what I mean, my lord. I just… I am not worthy of such an expensive gift.”
“Oh, but my dove, you are more than worthy. And it is not entirely selfless. I hope I will be hearing your sweet music more often while I am working in here.”
She smiles affectionately. “I shall play for his lordship whenever he wishes. I shall… I shall play until my fingers hurt!”
“I would never allow for this to happen,” he decides, reaching for her hands and massaging them gently in his. “No pain may befall my dearest for as long as I am here to prevent it.”
She holds his gaze, hope shimmering in her irises. “I shall play with caution then, I would not want my lord to be in distress on my behalf. Would you hold Snowbell for me, please?” 
Before she sits, she pulls the rabbit from the pocket of her dress where the she must have napped for she perks up sleepily when she is set down in his broad hands. Secondo does not make a move to stand.
“My lord–”
He uses his free hand to pull her into his lap and she gasps before her fingers find the keys. He can feel her shivering against his chest, her breathing as rapid as his heartbeat.
“I am not sure that I can play under his lordship’s scrutiny,” she whispers.
“I am quite certain that you can.”
With another shaky breath she begins to play. Heavenly tunes fill the room, her hands working their magic on the keys of the fine instrument. It is a song he has not heard before, slow and rather quiet but all the more powerful on his emotions. Her confidence soon returns and she plays in the same carefree way that he has grown to enjoy, only this time she is in his space, where she belongs. She is in his arms, breathes the very same air that flows through his lungs, and he can sense that he made the right choice.
The moment her hands come to a stop, he places Snowbell back in her palms and turns her sideways over his lap. Flustered by the proximity she glances down to her hands, only to notice that the rabbit has a white ribbon loosely tied around her body.
“I will ask your father for your hand,” Secondo says bluntly and her eyes widen.
“My lord, that is… it is impossible.”
“It will be possible, if it is your wish as well.”
“But, I am just–”
He stops her, taking her chin between his fingers to force her eyes to meet his. “My dove, I need a clear answer.”
“Yes.”
Overcome with relief he closes the distance and devours her lips in a passionate kiss. She presses against him with the same fervour, though careful not to squash the rabbit in her hand. Her body feels heated underneath the thin fabric of her cheap dress and he vows to have the modiste come the very next day to take her measurements. His hands roam her curves without shame now while he ravishes her, kissing her with a passion that threatens to make his heart burst, unused as it is to such feral emotion. She tugs at his cravat then, and he relents, allowing them both to break away for air.
Her forehead falls against his, their noses brushing as their heavy breaths mingle in the space in between. Suddenly Snowbell squeals in her palm and when they both look down the rabbit leaps from her hand onto the keyboard. As the off-key notes penetrate the room, they both smile. Perhaps they have to hire a different musician for the wedding after all.
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tadpolesonalgae · 7 months
Text
Can’t Bring Myself To Remember You
Azriel x Third-Oldest-Archeron-Sibling!Reader
a/n: I’ve thought about it a little and I don’t think this adds anything to the story—it really just feels like a trashy filler episode.
word count: 4,173
-Part 14-
——————————————————————————————————————————————
It’s not an unusual occurrence for you to open a book near dusk then pull out of your mental wandering after dark, frequently falling so deep into immersion, so consistently dragged under by lonely curiosity that time itself seems to slip through your soft, tender fingers. A shadow twirls a lock of hair about, a gentle approach so you know he’s there.
Even when his steps don’t subconsciously take on that soundless whisper, it was too often you’d startle at the sound of his voice, almost strangely so, spun around looking slightly flustered. Azriel had always assumed it a side effect of being stolen from your home all that time ago, being thrown about in the ocean of your life, only now beginning to settle back into relative calm.
You turn now, meeting his soft hazel eyes, shadowed by lovely lashes and defined by a strong brow. A mouth that appears so soft your heart aches at the faintly curved edges, appearing so warm and inviting. The steady certainty about the way he moves, so calmly assured of each step, unrushed but quietly determined, driven forward relentlessly by his unfaltering loyalty, the dedication to helping those under his brother’s rule.
A smile pulls your mouth apart, surely gleaming in your eyes, warming your cheeks as you meet his gaze. “What a surprise to see you here,” you say, closing the book silently, balancing the thick and heavy edge on your hip, the leather of its wrapping weighing comfortably into your waist. “Looking for something?”
He smiles, pushing off from the bookcase he’d been leaning against, dark hair flopping over his brow, as soft as silk and looking as warm as fur. How lovely it would be to run your fingers through, gently playing with it like how you would do when you were younger, sat before an open fire in a wobbly line, crafting intricate patterns with your sisters.
“I’ve found it now,” he replies, amusement written clearly across his features, more open than usual, your pulse increasing. His eyes drop away from yours, landing on the book at your hip, nodding to it with a faint smile. “What have you gotten your hands on this time?”
You reciprocate the expression with a little more enthusiasm, almost beaming as you shift the volume to present the cover to him. “It was tucked near the back here,” you explain, eyes darting to the shelf you’d been stood before. “It looked a little forgotten so I had to move some of the others around to get to it. It’s a book on botany, and the different plants that can be found throughout the courts. It’s amazing how such a range can be contained to such a small land mass given the shift in climates.”
His eyes twinkle, and your heart flutters in response, smile broadening a little. “Were there many books in your first home, or did your curiosity come from seeing your father’s study?” He asks, watching you calmly, gaze skating over the beautifully crafted cover of the book appreciatively. “There weren’t as many as there are here, but there were a few I could get my hands on,” you answer honestly. “Elain and I used to flip through the pages to look at the illustrations when we were younger, though they were mostly done in ink so only black and white. Sometimes when we found ones with colour in—there were some wonderful ones. I mean, really so full of colour and shimmery paints they really looked from another world—but we would fold the corners over at the top to show to Feyre later. Then sometimes they’d have diagrams with names underneath that we didn’t yet know how to pronounce, so would fold the corners over at the bottom to ask Nesta later since our mother wouldn’t want to be disturbed. Then later because she wasn’t there.” You come to a stop, lips drawing themselves into a thin line.
“Do you miss her?” He asks quietly, those shadows of his rolling like mist from his back, weighing to the floor to cover the boards in an inky black fog. “I…it’s complicated,” you answer, head dipping as you pull the volume back to your torso, as if it will act as a shield against the complex emotions you have no idea how to articulate. “You have plenty of time to figure it out—should you wish to,” he says gently, and you peer up at him, heart fluttering at the warmth in his eyes. The faint softening at the edges of his wonderful mouth.
You remember to respond, dipping your head in a subdued nod. Tongue swiping over your lips. “Is your…I mean, your mother…?” He blinks those lovely hazel eyes, so filled with swirling colour, and you inwardly cringe, seeing how he shifts to stand more upright, posture more rigid. That sweet curve of his mouth replaced by a polite smile, one he probably knows he should give to keep anyone from feeling bad. “Alive, yes,” he answers, his tone not inviting anymore questions, without being clipped.
Lips pursing into an awkward line, your gaze drops down to the book, to your feet, nodding in confirmation. “I…I’m happy for you,” you say quietly, hoping it’s the right thing and she isn’t a terrible woman. Female. That would be quite awful, if she turned out to be.
Azriel hums lowly, and your throat rolls, toes curling a bit in your shoes. You inhale, managing to look in his vague direction, “how was your day?” It comes out much more muted than you had intended, heat spreading throughout your features as you again dip your head, felled with embarrassment. A moment of silence passes, and you feel like you might crumble into a heap of sand, simply disintegrate right then and there.
But, “good,” he answers, chuckling lowly.
Peeking up nervously, you can make out the slight twinkle in his eyes, the relaxed softness to his mouth, and relief washes through you, crushing and sweeping in its intensity. “Training’s going well,” he continues unprompted, and you perk up more, shifting on your feet, attempting to straighten out your shoulders. “It’s becoming a nice, well-rounded group. Nesta seems to be doing well, too. They all are.”
You manage a smile, drinking in every word, basking in the richness of his voice, imbued with a tinge of royal blue emotion. “Sounds like you’re having fun,” you say, trying to match the mirth of his intonation, how genuine it sounds. You don’t really succeed. “Between the strain of practice and learning, I think they do,” he answers, still smiling faintly, and you pause to take a moment to try and capture what’s different about his features when he’s smiling. The curve beneath his eyes, how his cheeks round a little, the way his lips stretch out and curve. Something about his ears raising a little higher, too.
“Have you ever considered joining?” He asks tentatively, and you freeze up.
“Training?” You manage, forcing down the splutter, cowering at the thought. His features level out, but his eyes remain amused as he nods. “No. I don’t think… It’s not for me,” you stumble through the answer, looking away. Then heat warms your cheeks, embarrassment heating across your chest, meeting his gaze. “Should I be?” You ask, quieter than before, stomach tensing as you pull the book closer to your front.
He shrugs, “only if you’d like to. You might find it enjoyable.”
You manage a tight smile, not knowing what to say without sounding rude, so choosing silence.
“Nesta…she has friends there,” Azriel says hesitantly, and you can feel his gaze on you. “They enjoy reading, too. Maybe it would be good for you to go. Exciting.”
“Really?” You ask, managing to meet his gaze, shifting on your feet as you grip the book tighter. “What sort of things—do you know?”
“I could find out,” he offers, the edges of his irises softer.
But you shake your head, “it’s fine. I’m— I’m happy. Where I am, I mean. As I am.” You dip your head slightly at the awkwardness. Should you be saying something like that with pride? There isn’t much to be proud of. Hardly anything you can say for yourself.
It’s a bit worthless, if you’re honest, to only have that to cling to.
“You are?” He asks, gently.
Your stomach drops through your toes, heart plummeting deeper than the depths of the ocean’s floor. Shifting on your feet. Even he can tell… But you nod, head dipping further as you peer at the ground, heart straining for some reason. “Besides, I love getting to read the things in here,” you manage, clutching the volume a little tighter. “And, I’m not sure Nesta…her friends would be interested in reading encyclopaedias.”
“You don’t know until you try,” he says quietly, matching your level of volume. “Wouldn’t it be nice having more people to talk to about the things you like?”
You shift again on your feet, readjusting your grip on the bound book. “Maybe? I guess…”
“So why not try?” He asks, able to hear the slight smile in his voice, and you want so desperately to look at him. “Just one lesson, or even a few minutes to see what it’s like. The first step is usually the hardest.”
“I don’t know…” you hedge, discomfort lodging itself in your throat; between your ribs. “What are you unsure about?” He asks, leaning up against the bookshelves. You shrug, not meeting his gaze. “I guess…I don’t see the point in it,” you answer reluctantly, quietly. Knowing he won’t like that response.
Sure enough, you can hear the frown in his voice, disapproval sharpening into something bladed, disappointment in your lack of enthusiasm. “You should still try,” he says gently, wings shifting at his back, refolding themselves. But you shake your head, more firmly this time, “I don’t want to intrude. That’s her space that she’s made. I don’t want to contaminate it.”
“You wouldn’t be contaminating it,” he sighs, arms folding casually over his broad chest, and you feel like he’s telling you off for something.
Slightly desperately, you aim to switch topic to something he’ll be willing to move on to. You don’t doubt he could keep you here if he wanted, simply returning to the original topic of conversation, so you have to be careful with your new selection.
“Have you asked Elain if she would join?” You ask, not meeting his gaze.
You feel his pause, heart beating a little harder in the hopes he’ll go along with it. The irony of you being the one to bring her up isn’t lost on you—after you’ve wanted a conversation free of her for some time now. So it’s just the two of you, even for one discussion.
“Elain?” He asks, bemusedly, and you nod. “Do you think she’d be interested?”
“You thought I might be. Why not her?” You reply, wincing at your tone. Shifting again on your feet. But instead of tense silence, he chuckles faintly. “I understand the two of you are sisters, but you’re very different from one another.”
Your eyes close briefly, allowing no more than a moment for the condemnation to sink through you.
You’re nothing like Elain, and he can see that clear as day.
So you smile faintly, trying to bring some life into it. “Just a thought.”
———
It had felt like being tossed to the grimy, half-rotten wooden boards of the old hut in there.
They hadn’t bothered with chains—you were human, what could you do against them?
Strange, magic, powerful creatures, hewn from nature herself. Like gazing upon perfect marble sculptures and wishing for their cold grace, sacrificing flesh and blood for stone-cold immortality.
It’s strange how distorting panic can be. How acutely aware of the smallest hairs rising on mostly bare legs, yet forgetting the faces of the fae who’d thrown you into the deep dark of the cell. Warm bodies pressing tight to one another in the dim light of the stone cell, trembling hands gripping one another, grown out nails inadvertently scraping. Shaky breaths misting in the damp, winter deep air.
Few words had been traded in the perpetual night, a cold, spindly hand passing meals into the room through some method of magic. It had been good. Cold and plain yet disgustingly pleasant.
The first time Feyre had returned from Prythian and eaten human food she had gagged, it was unforgettable seeing how she’d changed. Such a small moment with such vast implications. Having then sampled the food, likely the worst of the worst of their own pallet, you could understand the insufficiency.
It doesn’t matter now though. Not now you’re trapped, locked away from the light.
Unknown time passes, and you never hear them coming. Like the night you’d been removed, they come on silent feet, utterly predatory and entirely invincible.
He’d appeared then, sat on a throne constructed of what you think vaguely reminds you human remains—long, stretching bones bound together to be sat upon, forced to serve long after death, condemned to relentless work, never to be lain to rest. The King you’ve been warned about.
At your side Nesta stiffens, observing something you can’t, struggling to remain alert after the numbing darkness of the cell. The strange isolation that had been enforced upon you despite company.
Even to human senses, the smell of blood is apparent, stark and piercing in the barren throne room. Though everything is secondary to the dooming thrum of pressure coming from the dais. Even the lives around you fade into something lesser when confronted with the concentration of Everything before you—a culmination of everything that has ever happened and everything that ever will across the four-dimensional planes, universes stretching and thinned, brought together before the Cauldron that sits, hunched on the stone floor. Watching. Observing. Waiting.
Words jumble from the king’s mouth, but you doubt even Nesta is entirely listening, not with the white-knuckled grip she has on you and Elain, pulled taut together, bound tighter than you’ve ever been before, a refusal to release one another. Even as numbing pain sets in, you don’t try to escape, each of you understanding the aches of the grip are small safeties, reminders you still exist with one another.
Grey-blue eyes catch yours across the hall, wide and fearful as they gaze upon the three of you. The youngest, yet the strongest. The strongest of your sisters, yet maybe the weakest in the room beyond yourselves. The power imbalance so stark the world tilts a little, as if nodding its head sadly in agreement.
Awareness is dunked over you like taking an icy bath, coming to in time to hear the damning words that have your heart jittering in your chest. Lurching and fumbling with fear.
“Who is the youngest, over there?”
And like a moth drawn to flame, your terrified eyes lock with his, singled out as a knowing smile tilts the King’s lips. “You.”
It’s a new terror, you understand. Being noticed by a being so incomprehensibly greater. How to rationalise and understand the fear in the fleeting seconds that tick faster and faster with each blink of your eyes. How time falls flat, and eventually pulls apart as a guard’s hand rips you clean from your sisters, a snarl of rage only adding to the ringing buzz that glistens though your ears, feet fumbling numbly over the cobbles, cracked and jagged in places.
The world fades in and out of focus as ice prickles from beneath your skin, at once hot and at once freezing the skin from your flesh, so cold it will start peeling back at any second, shedding until you disintegrate onto the floor. You’re helpless as you’re pushed onto the dais, far too close to the prowling beast of the Cauldron to ever come away. Even if they released you, the understanding is clear to you it would not allow the escape.
Noises break through the lilting haze of your world, vision clearing enough to pick out the wide, hellish eyes of your oldest sister, the conflict of terror and undeniable rage that blazes away in full view, and you wonder how she can sustain it. How she can muster up an emotion so overpowering your attention is pulled away from the Cauldron. From the King, and Queens.
Her teeth gleam in a snarl directed to the male atop the throne, and you wish for even an ember to take root in your soul. The inadequacies of your own self rising to the surface like bodies buried in muddy land.
“Put her in.”
Every muscle strings taut in your body, jaw nearly breaking itself from pressure, nearly vomiting the food you’d been given from squeezing your stomach in, every part of your being inherently recoiling from the eerily calm pool of black water before you, so still it looks like glass, contained in metal that reeks of something that should not be touched. Even borne witness to.
You’re lofted into the air, unable to so much as kick, terror taking control of your body, feeling as though you’re freshly dead, held stiff by catatonic shock while breath still whispers from your lips. Screams are choked back by the tightness in your throat, lungs burning with cries that would surely curdle blood, piercing shrieks that might at least serve to deafen their keen hearing.
But their large, spindly hands release you, and you slide into the yawning mouth. Gaping, and grinning.
Ice-cold water shocks your system, and you sink like a stone into the liquid. Sinking. Sinking. Sinking.
Dropping through the barriers of the realm. Falling off the edge of the world.
You drop further than possible, and nightmares resurface. Of rivers that swell and break their banks, flooding wetlands and tearing livestock from their home in the torrents of the winter melt. Rain lashing down day after day, heart pounding in your chest, hoping the rising water will never reach the already shaky beams of your rotting hut. In those night terrors there’s no escaping the rising tides, the currents gripping your ankles as you’re snatched from your feet, dragged away and under, swallowed whole and torn from your family in the blink of an eye.
Liquid like mercury surrounds you whole, submerged in the quicksilver of the Cauldron’s contents, dredging up long forgotten memories as though your life is passing before your eyes. Laying on the floor of your father’s study, flipping through books on food, plants, fauna and flora. There had been one nightmarish creature that had always stuck with you, lurking in the depths of your mind no matter what comforts Elain had provided, nor the goofy drawings Feyre had done in attempts to reduce the terror, nor the reasoning that such a small creature whose home was the deepest, murkiest parts of the sea would ever be able to find you.
And yet the Cauldron seems to seek it out specifically, conjuring the memory of the slimy pale blue paint that had been used, the ink that sharpened razor like teeth, the small spot of white on the page that illuminated the fish’s grotesque features.
Like an angler fish, you can’t help but feel now, sunken so far below, sucked in a whirlpool to the bottom of the Cauldron, that its icy surface had been the light, the power rolling from its dark metal the warm glow, and you’d been thrown toward it.
Now past the shredding ring of teeth, cast into its stomach.
The inky water pushes at your lips, squirming at your squeezed-shut eyes, wriggling like icy maggots trying to crawl beneath your skin, to worm their way inside and infest. It seems impossible to hold them out—everything had come from the Cauldron, how were you supposed to barricade yourself against that which you’d been born of?
You pull as tight as you can, wrapping in on yourself as blood recoils from your extremities, all you can salvage of yourself pulling taut and compact, stitched closer than rock, squeezed denser than ice that’s had centuries to compress. Air has long since lost its value among your turned around preservation instincts. Air is a pathway in, and you fear its intrusion with a conviction that spears deeper than any fear of death.
But the Cauldron is a prime creator, second you suppose only to the Mother, and has no concern for time.
No matter how long you keep it out for, minutes, hours, days, years, time is endless and stretching, a new metric confined to the swirling depths of horror contained within its malice-imbued metal. No matter how long you keep yourself walled off, hibernating deep within the parts of yourself you hadn’t even known existed, it waits just outside, prowling, circling, slowly squeezing and constricting. Until like even ice, or rock, you’ll split open. Pressure so steep it could cleave universes.
Even after the walls you’ve hidden behind, the only things keeping out the idle swirl of pure, liquid power, it’s not enough. Everything will fall to time, eroded and grated down to dust beneath the relentless drip of ticking seconds.
Your mind feels too numb to register as it creeps in, cold and deadening as it spreads calmly throughout your blood, filling you up from the inside out, infusing into your skin—numbed from slumber. Creeping and contaminating with cold, needle slim fingers, rearranging and knitting pieces together than should not be joined within a mortal.
It holds you with a familiarity that’s at once startling and reassuring, a puppet returned to the puppeteer, a dress returned to the seamstress, a splintered leg returned to the carpenter. All of them at once, without the care of a mother for her child. Cold and analytical, examining its past creation, exploring its functions with harsh fingers. Peeling back your skin, then your flesh, then your skull, retrieving the centre of your thoughts to discover your foundations.
Wishes and desires, tucked away secrets even you’ve forgotten, passing thoughts unworthy of being voiced, wants that deserved to be spoken but tied down by your tongue. Its ladle scoops you out, hollowing your mind and stomach, dipping a spoon into soup to retrieve a mouthful, except this space will be replaced with something else. Something to push the bounds of humanity and transform you into the sharp-featured creatures who had taken what scraps of your world had remained.
Something with the tremendous strike of lightening but worse fills the empty pockets it’s made. Capable of burning like the blazing rage contained within quicksilver eyes. Something slower. More insidious. You aren’t made for brute force, so a more subtle route will have to be afforded.
Like it had selected the nightmarish memories, so does it haul up the secret wishes. The wants so desperate they have heat kicking back against the icy touch of the Cauldron’s waters. To blaze like Nesta, to protect like Feyre, to soothe like Elain. But more.
A use.
If not a warrior, then a blade to be harnessed.
The Cauldron plucks the desire from your bones, and your body slumps. Skin without its stuffing, a heart without its thump. You could swear you feel it smile as it finds what it’s looking for, now conjuring up its match. The piece to fill the void it’s created by removing the wish, replaced with something sturdier, to lift your body to immortality.
With each possibility the prices rise steeper, and yet you no longer recoil.
The craving to have something—something entirely new, something entirely your own taking control of your mind and soul, driving you forward. How deeply you yearn to be someone with possessions that are your own. Not passed down, nor borrowed or shared, but your own. Something only you can have.
The desire is so acute you feel salty wetness push out from beneath closed eyelids.
To be sought after. Craved. Pursued.
Valued, treasured, fought for.
To have something that made you become both desired and capable of protection.
The cost would always be irrelevant for an offer like that.
Down to your roots, clipped at the foundations, an entirely human desire to be wanted. At whatever price, the yearning so innate and so acute your heart aches within the cage of your ribs. It runs deeper than a want, or a wish, or a need. So inherent to your ideal that now you’ve discovered its existence, returning without it would be a new death with every second, every breath drawn taking you further apart from the moment your could’ve had it.
The Cauldron smiles, dangling it before you, quietly hiding away what it’s already taken, not giving you a chance to consider what you will lose.
And with a still human heart, your soft, trembling fingers pluck the glowing green star from the inky darkness. Fooled by inexperience.
——————————————————————————————————————————————
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the-monkeies-girl · 3 months
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Awww but wait I wouldn’t mind cute little headcanons with Anaya and Soona, just playing around, mealtimes, hunting/foraging and all around messing about. The both of them are so sweet
DO NOT TOUCH ME I AM IN MY FEELS. You know, you can totally see these as Soona x Reader and Anaya x Reader and I just realized that in my bisexual haze goodbye.
Soona teaching you how to weave.
Bless her heart for having the patience to show you how to do it. The first few times, your baskets came out absolutely horrid to the point where they really didn't look like baskets. The way that her fingers moved so intricately, how she brought the twine up to her face and narrowed her green gaze, the freckles along brow, along her cheeks and into the fur around his jaw, her face shifting with the expression of centralized focus. You found it hard to put your mind at ease, and to just watch the weaving as she spoke to you in such a gentle tone, explaining the pattern for how to weave properly, tightly knitting it together so it didn't fall apart. Now... Admittedly, your baskets... They were just an entanglement of roughly put together, thinly sliced pieces of slated wood. Soona was encouraging though - She just tells you that it comes with time and that the more you make, the better they're going to get. The smile she gives you? The light grazing of her hand against your forearm in support? Definitely leaves you buzzing a small bit and you try again. And again. And again. Until it finally comes out right and resembling a basket of sorts. A bit lopsided, it teeters back and forth searching for balance when it was placed on the ground but you're still proud. And from the hoots that Soona gave you when you pulled the basket from behind your back to present to her? The pure satisfaction that you were able to impress her leaves you reeling as she inspects the basket with happiness, giving you a brief smile. "Told you... you could do it."
Anaya trying to impress you.
Your fingers grazed along the surface of a rusted beam - beaten to disfigurement by the sun of three-hundred years and the weather to follow. Noa and Anaya were talking as Soona listened in. Despite your transfixed eyes on the ruined building next to you, you could hear them chattering about who was going to be the one to carry you up to the ladened Eagle Nests above. Noa figured himself - it was often him. He was slightly bigger than Anaya, had a bit more strength, and it was always him chosen. But, Anaya came in hot with an argument it seemed, backed up by Soona who was encouraging him. Anaya huffed slightly at Noa and muttered under his breath, only enough for you to pick up a few words. 'Want to' and 'can do it'. You blinked when your name was echoed through the hallway of the ruined buildings. You smiled at them and took your fingers away from the thought that the ruins you were standing in were somehow twisted into your own personal self- being an Echo and all. "Anaya," The Chimp said in self-declaration, his chest puffing out rather cutely, "carry Echo today." You looked between Soona and Noa, a small expression of surprise hitting your cheeks at that as you finally drew to look at Anaya who was standing bi-pedal in front of you, his eyes full of nerves as he darted his gaze between your eyes and your chest - trying to see if you were nervous about him taking you and not Noa. "You better not drop me," You whispered only to him in.a joking tone and found yourself almost entranced at the look Anaya gave you back as you flanked around him and hiked your body onto his back as you so often did with Noa. Anaya assisted, hesitance evident in how he helped you upwards, not sure where his hands were allowed to go, not sure if something was not okay. He staggered at that once you were fully against him, not used to weight but eventually the muscles in his legs became quickly adapted to the nature of your weight and he smiled to himself. "Anaya does not drop," You tucked your knees into his side and held on for what felt like dear life as the Apes began their ascent. "Only Noa does. Sometimes." Anaya looked right over at his friend with what could only be described as a smug smile before trailing ahead of both Noa and Soona with a yap, hoot and howl. All the while, with your hands grasped tightly to him and as long as you avoided looking down, you found yourself able to smile and laugh ( not out of nerves, thank goodness ) along with Anaya as he slanted along the building with ease and skill, leaving you rather breathless once you got to the top.
How about another Berry Foraging with our Sunset Trio.
It was a lot more of a strenuous process than you were willing to admit. The torment of your spine curving as you had been in a crouched position for far too long began to take a toll and you felt a deep-set burning sensation in your tailbone was not to be taken lightly as you stood up and stretched it out, placing your hands on the small of your back and pressing inwards with a small groan. Soona watched you with great interest - the position of crouching was so natural to her, to most Apes in fact, that the fact that you were unable to stay squatted for more than ten minutes at a time was somewhat funny to her. She gave you a look of affable mention and looked down at her basket of berries, "Very good Anaya is not over here," She picked a few ripe blueberries with skill as you turned to crouch next to her. The heat eradicating your face felt good as you leaned in towards her subconsciously. "Eats them all before we get home. Always.... Noa so mad, Anaya so scared from Noa being mad." The visual itself made you laugh as you could see it playing out rather vividly in front of you. Vividly, and then literally as Noa and Anaya came into view. The latter was holding a bustle of berries and was eating them, obviously mocking the Eagle Clan leader who muttered something about, 'How are you eating that many?' That only spurred Anaya to shove the entire contents of his hand into his mouth in a rather juicy display as he began chewing the berries and maintaining eye contact with Noa. Noa snapped playfully, rearing his friends chest and taking them both down, rolling further down the hill behind them with a loud clattering of howls and hoots, huffs soon followed as the two of them began laughing. Soona just looked at you, and you looked at her. Boys will be boys, is what the shared gaze said as you two grazed further to get Soona's basket full before Anaya came to pick at them.
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welcomingdisaster · 7 months
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ainur tumblr dashboard simulator
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🌳 yavannakementári Following
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Minor changes to the pink patterns on this one. Still very much a WIP but I'm letting it rest for now. Tried for some swirly patterns earlier but it ended up looking far too busy.
#art #wip #trees
(12880 notes)
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🏹 the huntsman Follow
lol saw the most fucked up little guy in the woods. didn't get a picture but sweat to our great father his head was the size of his body
💪 astoldo Following
you do what to our great father now
🏹 the huntsman Follow
shut up shut up shut up
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🧝 isthequendivideocute Mutuals
OK I'm gonna do a more detailed "common mistakes" post later when I have time but there's two things I've been seeing ALL over my dash that have got to stop.
(a) Cannot believe I need to be saying this but you MUST stop setting elves on fire. Listen I get this. Fire is fun for you! Fire is pretty and I like to play with it, too! But elves do not like fire. Fire can and WILL hurt them.
If you're going to fire for enrichment: You can give your elf plants or rocks to play with! They will like these. You can also let elves observe fire from a safe distance -- let them decide how they want to approach! They have good self-preservation instincts and will not usually not keep touching something that hurts them.
If you're going to fire for warmth: you can always put your elf in warm water (make sure not to cover their mouth/nose), give them a warm food/beverage, or wrap them in furs! They will look very cute wearing a little jacket AND it won't harm them. :)
(b) I know mermaids secrete salty fluids from their facial orifices when they're feeling happy, but elves are not mermaids. If an elf is wailing and secreting fluids they are NOT happy! This response indicates they're stressed out or in pain. Please re-think whatever you are doing around that elf. And stop posting videos that encourage that!
(17800 notes, replies turned off)
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🌩️ kingofair Mutuals
It is with a heavy heart that I must do this, and yet it is my duty.
Callout post for my brother, Melkor, @trueelderking, previously known, @/theblackhand, @/truemelody, @thedarkness, and probably other urls.
TW: violence against trees, firstborn, creatures of air and water both, disharmony, murder, ruination, discord.
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🌊 thecallofthewaves Following
I am curious.
#man yet unborn sweep btw #my little guys
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🌺 ofthewoods Mutuals
dark forests and pale eyes got me acting rather............. unwise
#shut up melian #if you know you know #hahaha unless
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miyuhpapayuh · 3 months
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23
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“Oh, my head—”
“Shut that up, woman.” Leon cuts Zora’s dramatics off, lightly thumping her nose. She laughs, flicking his hand away.
“Yeah, yeah. My head may be fine, but the rest of me,” she snorts, tucking one of her hands behind her head, getting comfy in the king size bed.
“That's why I'm gonna draw you a bath, silly.” 
“Ugh, he does love me.” She sings, giggling at the many kisses he plants on her lips and face.
“More than life, cupcake.” A single kiss is pressed to her nose and he's disappearing into the adjoining bathroom to get the water going.
Sliding down in the bed, Zora sighs and stretches her limbs, sore as they are, and runs her hands over her poofy hair. It would be nice if she could find a ponytail holder.
Looking to her right, she squints from the loss of her contacts, at the sight of the pretty pale yellow sun high in the sky, the swirls of gray clouds make it that much prettier.
A yelp of surprise leaves her as Leon scoops her up from her warm place in the sheets, carrying her directly into the steamy, rose littered bath.
“Aw, how cute is this!” She coos, looking up at him once they're seated, leaning in for a few sweet kisses.
“Anything for you, sugar lumps.” He says, kissing her lips a few more times, before pulling her hair up away from the water.
“Thanks, I couldn't find my scrunchie or anything,”
Drying his hands on the towel closest to them, he flashes her his left wrist, making her gasp at the black elastic band around it.
“Where was it?”
He chuckles, pointing to the counter in front of them. “I think you left it in here at some point, last night.”
“Jesus,” she mumbles, sighing as he gently rakes his fingers through her hair, pulling it into a high, messy bun.
A couple strands fall wayward, leaving him twirling them around his finger.
“When’s checkout time?” She asks, linking their wet fingers together.
“Uh.. twelve, I believe.” He answers, kissing her shoulder as she leans into him.
“Good. More time to soak all of this up. Nique said Valentine's been meowing more than usual.” She says, closing her eyes, stretching and cracking her toes.
“Aw, she lasted longer than I thought.”
“Same,” she laughs, “gotta get her a treat.”
“Oh lord,” he chuckles, peeking down at her as she quiets down.
“You falling asleep on me, girl?”
“Mmm, maybe?”
“Always my sleepyhead,” he laughs, once more, pressing a kiss to the side of her face.
“Sorry, it's just so cozy… I can't help it.” She yawns, drawing a pattern on a hand that's splayed across her belly.
“It's okay,” he assures, “cause you gotta stay up for the rest of the day, anyway.”
“Why?” She asks, popping one eye open.
“V-day misses mama, that's why.”
✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿
“Her custom collar is on its way!” She sings, shoving her phone towards Leon so he could see it.
Bright orange with black hearts, gold nameplate with Valentine carved into it with a tiny heart in the corner.
“How cute,” he snickers, “she's spoiled, already.”
“As she should be! Isn't it so cute?! I know you said it was, but say it again!” She blurts out, laughing at herself before he has the chance.
“Baby, calm down,” he chuckles, rubbing her knee as she bounces her leg in excitement.
“It's very cute. ‘S gonna match her fur real nice.”
She pinches his cheek and settles back beside him, just as Valentine jumps into her lap to curl up.
“I love when she does this,” she coos, rubbing her soft fur.
Her purring had become Zora’s new favorite thing in an instant. It was its strongest when she'd rub between her ears.
Leon fondly shakes his head, before getting up and heading into the kitchen.
“What's for lunch, chef?” Zora snickers.
“Ha. I was thinking about a club sandwich? I won't put tomatoes on yours, I know how you feel about ‘em.”
“Aw, you know me! That sounds so delicious, actually.” She nods.
“See? Great minds,” he points between them for emphasis, making her laugh.
“Want me to help you with anything?”
“Yes. Stay put and play with v-day.” He winks.
She playfully rolls her eyes, mumbling an okay before looking down at her new orange companion.
“You're like Garfield, but so much cuter,” picking her up, she holds her closer to her face, cooing as she reaches out to nuzzle against her cheek.
“Yep. So much cuter!”
After a quick cat nap for them both, the smell of bacon sent Zora toward her dining table where her plate was waiting.
“Oh man, that looks delicious!” She says as her stomach rumbles.
“I hope you love it, bae.”
Quickly washing her hands, she rejoins Leon at the table to finally chow down.
“Did you make homemade fries??” She asks, staring at the thick cut fries on her plate.
“Yeah,” he grins proudly, “I definitely took a trip to the store while y'all were knocked. It just sounded so good. They're the perfect golden I've been tryna get ‘em to, too.”
“Aw,” Zora snickers, pinching his cheek, “you are the cutest chef alive! Did you take a picture??”
“You know I did! I even did a lil video, showing me cutting them up, frying the bacon, plating everything..” he nods, still grinning.
“Throw it on tiktok or something! I bet the people would eat it up!”
“Yeah, I honestly thought about it. But I'm still trying to get all my ideas together for my next career move, so I'll table that for now. Keep it on the top of my stack.” He winks.
Thanking god the redness in her face was hidden, she grabs a half of her sandwich and bites into it, eyes closing at the taste.
“Mmm,” she hums, grabbing a fry next to dip in the aioli sauce, then another one, then taking another bite of her sandwich, all while Leon watches in pure happiness.
“I take it, you're enjoying it,” he says, biting into his own sandwich.
“The thoughts I'm thinking right now are so unholy,” she pauses to lick her fingers, “all because of you and this food!”
He raises a brow at her, to which she responds by raising both back at him.
“What you tryna do, then?” He asks with a chuckle.
She giggles, dipping another fry into the sauce and tossing it into her mouth.
“Better be glad vday ain't so sleepy yet,” Leon says, smiling at her.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I'll get you later, though.” He winks.
She continues to giggle and eat her food, while he heads back into the kitchen to clean up.
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Zora took the brief moment she had to sit down and go through her checklist, thanking god for friends like Nique.
After having the dreaded conversation with Linda and having it go way better than anticipated, she felt better knowing she was scheduled til the end of the month and it could go towards her savings for her project.
She'd sent off prints of her artwork to the Mint museum, attaching her contact info to each one just in case they were interested.
Nique had even encouraged her to use social media to her advantage, especially with her not having much on her instagram, having archived everything but her face.
She posted on her page and story about her art, making sure to specifically hide her story from Leon so her journey could remain a secret for now.
On the move again, she moves toward the door and looks back at Valentine.
“Daddy’ll be here soon.” She says, blowing a kiss before slipping out, locking up, almost skating down the steps to her car.
About ten minutes later, there's three plates of nachos between Zora, Neoma, Lovita and Nique as they catch up at their favorite spot, Mi Pueblo.
“So, Nique and I are currently trying to get my art in the mint museum,” she says, laughing as they gasp.
“I know, I know!”
“Dude!” Lovita reaches over to smack her younger sister’s arm. “That's huge!”
“Yeah! I knew something was up!”
“Did you really? Cause Zora said y'all wouldn't catch on!” Nique points out.
“Heffa,” Neoma sucks her teeth, “when you put your canvases away, that was my first clue cause I wanted to know why, but I never asked, see? I waited for you to tell me!”
Zora giggles. “You did good, Nene!”
“So, what have y'all done so far?”
“I've sent in prints of my artwork, told them I've got the money set aside for any fees! I've joined an art group, too! I meet with them next week! It's mostly women— sistas!”
“Ooh, I'm so excited for you!”
“Me too! Look at you go!”
“What did Leon say??”
“He doesn't know much about it, I'm keeping most of it a secret for now.”
“Awww, he's gonna flip!!”
“I know, I cannot wait!” Zora beams. “But enough about me, what's going on with y'all?”
“Wait, you still gon be waitressin’?” Neoma asks.
“Nah, my last day is the twenty-seventh. I'll miss it.” She sighs.
“Aw, poor Linda's gon’ lose her mind without you!”
“She knows I'll never stray too far! I might ask her for some favors, soon… but, do tell thing one and thing two.”
“Girl,”
“Stay doin’ us. Anyway, I'm getting promoted to head chef since I'm such the cook!” Lovita says, cheesing hard.
“That's amazing! Congratulations!” They applaud.
“Yeah, go you! I knew you could cook more than egg and bologna sandwiches.” Nique jokes, making Lovita laugh and flip her off.
“Thanks, y'all. It was really the boost I needed! It also comes with a FAT bonus!”
“How fat we talkin’?” Zora asks as they all lean in.
“Girl fatter than the Fat Boys!”
They all crack up, falling back in the booth simultaneously, wiping tears from their cheeks.
“That girl ain't got no sense!” Neoma says, still giggling as they calm down.
“Okay giggles, what's new with you?” Zora asks.
“Craig and I just celebrated our three month anniversary last week. He took me to the Cheesecake Factory cause that's my favorite place, I ate my chicken and biscuits! Y'all know how I feel about ‘em!”
“Yes, we know,” Lovita nods, while Zora snickers. “But cute, cute! What else?”
“We shared a slice of Oreo cheesecake and it said happy anniversary on the plate, I'll show y'all in a minute, it was so cute! Then we went inside pandora and he got me another charm for my bracelet, it's this little yellow heart!”
“Awww,” they coo, so happy for their little sister.
“I might not have to hurt him after all,” Nique says, and they fall into another fit of laughter.
“Nique got jokes! I hope she got sumn to spill, too.”
“Oop! Well, of course I do! I'm also quitting my job very soon and going back to school full time!”
“What?” They gasp.
“I can't believe you didn't tell us!” Zora exclaims.
“It was so hard keeping it to myself for this long!” Nique laughs. “It started off as just a thought but then I brought it up to Darnell and he offered to help me with my bills so I can go back and get my degree!”
“What?” They gasp even louder this time.
“That's what I said!!”
“That's a good man, there.” Lovita nods. “He gon pay your rent?”
“Mmmhm! I don't gotta worry about nothing!”
“Must be nice!”
“Damn, I'm scared of you!” Zora laughs.
“You sound like ya damn mama,” Nique cracks.
“We're so happy for you!”
“Shoot, we need another round of nachos or something! We can get drinks this weekend if y'all want though, we still gotta drive home.”
“True, true! Put extra queso on those nachos!”
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“Valentine Jupiter Grey, get DOWN from there!” Leon yells, waving her feather toy around to get her attention.
The orange cat had found her way up on his bookshelf, cozying up in the highest nook, which was also the one of the dustiest. He already knew giving her a bath would be another challenge.
He sighs heavily, looking up at her green eyes peeking down at him. She was not moved by his yelling or his choice of toy.
“So, you're just gonna sit up there?” He asks, as if she was going to answer him.
She just blinked and looked towards the window. He scoffed and sat down in his office chair.
“Talkin’ bout she won't be climbin’ on high surfaces and shit.. vday is on my bookshelf! That mug is eight feet tall, and she's just up there chillin’!”
As if she sensed something was wrong, Zora calls.
He answers on the first ring, immediately filling her in on her new feline friend and her misadventure.
“She what?!”
He turns around to look up at her. Ears pointed as she stared at him, still.
“Mmhm, she's still staring at me… nah, she didn't knock anything over, but what if she falls? She's so tiny and watching her jump up there almost gave me a heart attack!” He laughs.
“Good lord! Okay, I'll be there in like ten minutes, okay? Just keep your eye on her.”
“I got you, get here safe. I love you.”
“I love you, sugar booger.”
Soon, mama’s coming through the unlocked door to scold her precious baby kitty.
“Valentine Jupiter Grey,” she says, coming into the room and looking up at the top of the bookshelf. Her ears were still pointed, but she looked scared now.
“What in the world??” Zora yells.
“My exact words, I swear.”
“Did you try standing in a chair?”
“Uh, they're not sturdy enough to hold me up anymore. I thought about that but I would've gotten hurt.”
“You make enough money to buy new chairs, Leon.”
“I know,” he nods, “I've just been kinda busy, lately.” He says, as his eyes flicker back up to Valentine.
“But,” he continues, “what if I hoist you up on my shoulders? I think you could reach her.”
“Yeah? You sure?” She asks, biting her nail.
“You won't get hurt, I promise.”
“Okay, hold on.” She says, placing her phone and purse on his desk and pulling her hair up into a ponytail.
He chuckles, before squatting down so she can hop on his shoulders. She felt like a little kid as he made sure she was secured and ready for him to stand up.
She swore she fell once he completely stood up, clutching his face carefully not to scratch him, and he tightened his arms around her thighs.
“I got you, baby. I got you.”
“Okay,” she huffs, “Valentine, you better be glad you're worth this panic attack!”
Her soft mewls sound, making Zora frown. Her shaky hands just about reach the shelf where she's sitting.
“Okay, move in a bit closer, I can almost reach her.”
As soon as she can make contact, she pulls her off the shelf into her arms, holding her breath once more, as he lowers her back down to the floor.
“Oh my god,” she heavily sighs, sitting on the floor to stop the spinning in her head. Leon grabs a towel to wrap Valentine in, sitting down too.
“Sorry, I didn't think of it before.”
“It's okay, I didn't either. I'm just glad we got her down. Thank you.”
“Of course, love this lil stinker,” he rubs his thumb between her ears, chuckling at her purring.
“Hard headed, I know.” Zora says, laughing as well.
“Alright, bath time!” He says, before standing up and grabbing Valentine from Zora, pulling her up after.
“I'll get the shampoos! Ooh, I found this papaya scented one– it smells like heaven!”
After bath time and putting a sleepy vday in her cat bed, the couple make dinner and head out on the balcony to enjoy the mildly chilly night air.
“Well I can't reveal anything yet, but I'll just say that I'm finally cracking through the glass ceiling.” Zora says, looking from her sweet boyfriend to the pale moon before her.
“I'm already proud of you.” He smiles, kissing the top of her head. She melts, giggling away.
“Thank you baby!”
“Any time. I also have some things in the works.”
“Do you, now??”
“Mmhm. Sounds like we'll both have something to reveal.”
“I'm loving it, honestly.” She laughs, him joining in.
“Me too, baby. When do you meet with your group again?”
“Tuesday! I'm so excited!” She gushes. “I joined the group chat last night and everyone welcomed me in so nicely, it was so cute, I cried a little.”
“You kill me,” he chuckles, “I'm glad they were nice to my baby. Sounds like everything you been looking for!”
“It really is, Av’! I've already got my portfolio together— I put my portfolio together! Like, who am I?” She laughs at herself, watching the smile on Leon's face widen.
“I'm so happy to see you so happy.”
She softly smiles. “You're gonna make me cry!”
“Guess we both finna be in tears,” he shrugs, still smiling at her.
“Stop it,” she playfully warns, already wiping under her eyes. “And thank you, it feels good to be back in the swing of things! I was down for so long, for too long!”
“Hey, give yourself some grace. You went through a lot, and now you're using that as fuel, yeah?”
“Yeah, truly. Ima make the art world my bitch,” she says, cheesing wide.
“That's my girl!”
@ghostfacekill-monger @thegifstories @blackerthings @planetblaque @blowmymbackout @henneseyhoe @honestpreference @blackpinup22 @abeautifulmindexposed @nayaxwrites @twistedcharismaaa @kindofaintrovert @sageispunk @madamzola @soufcakmistress @megamindsecretlair @starcrossedxwriter @slippinninque
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