#tended my darling plant children

[foreignobjecticus]

Having lots of hobbies is great! No matter how much you achieve in a day, you will always also have the Guilt of 'I should be doing Other Hobby' gnawing at your insides. :)

[arlemoon]

venus, planet of love, has one moon.

contains: established relationships, implied character death, implied murder, bittersweet endings, angst.

arlecchino’s mind could be equated as a pond. within it contained a diverse body of aquatic creatures festering about. these could be called both her memories and emotions. some lived by feasting upon the seagrass and algae, creating harmonious and symbiotic relationships with those it coexisted with. others, the more ravenous ones, persisted through much more barbaric means akin to invasive creatures. without natural predators, they’re destined to overwhelm the rest of the pond like conquistadors.

it is a cherished skill to be able to create those said predators. or, perhaps, is it but a mere pitiable circumstance in which the mind has forced itself to find ways to cope with trauma? whatever the case was, arlecchino is no novice at containing her invasive creatures, though a hefty sum of her ability to do so was attributable to none other than the one she called her lover. her darling, darling lover.

ironically, the one that nearly sent the effectiveness of all of arlecchino’s developed coping mechanisms down the drain.

it was all too characteristic of life and fate itself that things would twist and turn into such a grotesque ending. what was even more grotesque was how bright the moon reflected against the ocean’s still currents. what was more grotesque was how nothing else seemed amiss in the world. the cliff wasn’t crumbling, the forest wasn’t wilted, and the crickets still played their otherwise comforting melodies as if arlecchino’s mental anguish meant nothing.

what was most grotesque of all was the disgustingly content and gentle smile decorating your face. the face that arlecchino couldn’t bear sparing more than a glance at lest she let anger or sorrow consume her.

she of all people stressed to her children that anger causes impulsivity, and that sorrow causes wavering, and she was an avid practitioner of what she preached. arlecchino tries not to give in and break the silence, but she can’t stop the small utter of your name, weak and defeated.

your response is adeptly timed—elegant and poise as always, she takes note of.

“never in my life could i fathom the idea of hearing my name slip from your tongue with such vulnerability lacing it, my dearest, arlecchino. does this gentle breeze not quell your heart?” you reply, said gentle breeze nearly drowning out the quiet whisper of your voice without exertion. thankfully, arlecchino’s unknowingly trained herself to cling onto every word you say like it was gospel or words of the divine.

her throat is too parched to reply, and it’s as if her pyro vision has snaked its way up to her throat and burnt it up until it shriveled like a plant. still, these moments with you are too precious to let her own mind stop her from talking with you.

“you are such a foolish lover of mine. you of all must know that something as minute as a gust of wind could never hope to pacify something as immense as my unrest,” she slowly starts, finally bringing her gaze onto you for longer than a short glimpse. it was shattering to see how full of life you appeared—flushed skin, hair that was tamed and very clearly tended to.. it all served as a stark juxtaposition to what schemed within your very being and soul.

“we both are foolish lovers, then,” you reply, no beats missed. “the two of us both made mistakes. yours, falling in love with me, and mine, being born.”

arlecchino uncharacteristically bristles at that.

“do not say such ill words about yourself. in fact, do not call what has happened in the past a mistake. mistakes are something to be regretted, and i do not regret and have not once regretted falling in love with you,” she sternly replies, and you have to refrain from letting your slight amusement show.

“pardon my insensitivity, my love. i forget you’d scold anyone who talked ill of me, myself included.”

“you particularly, actually. you mustn’t forget.”

“hm? that wounds me, my love.”

a few seconds may not have summed up to much, but those few seconds of lighthearted banter were heaven itself to arlecchino. after all, small moments like these rarely came. after all, small moments like these would never occur again at all. after all, to arlecchino, these last moments were all she had.

because arlecchino was fair.

she always looked at the grander design—the big picture, and in this case, it was the world at stake. all seven regions were at risk because of this one predicament: you. more specifically, the tumor that grew within your soul, leeching onto your energy until it grew big enough to leave your vessel and infect the world with its curse.

contrary to what some people may assume, arlecchino did not want the world to burn. arlecchino was no villain or antagonist, but she was no saint either. she was somewhere in limbo—an anti-hero of the sort. she wished not for the world to crumble, but rather for it to simply exist.

though, in no foreseeable future could her desires align with you keeping your life.

“arlecchino, my dear? i worry when you fall silent. i cannot help but wonder what goes on inside that mind of yours,” you start, a bittersweet smile coming to your face once more when you hear the sound of materializing metal.

“oh, my love.. how i will always forgive you.”

venus, planet of love, had one moon.

© arlemoon 2024. plagiarize at your own will, but i will be very sad to find any of my uncredited work elsewhere. thank you.

[xianyoon]

sweet light of spring

alhaitham x reader. more of that cottage!au hehhe fluff & comfort. 0.6k words.

your cottage, before you moved in, was a house.

your little red-brick house was something that you’d see from an english period movie, the imagery of little children frolicking and playing in the countryside — it almost seemed more so a prop piece for a show set rather than a cottage in the woods. juniper green ivy climbed the walls, sweet poppies and sunny marigolds sprouted from the earth to say hello – your land was cheerful.

you love collecting the flowers from your garden; they always seem to reappear as soon as you pluck them. the flowers are good, gently held and pressed in between pages of al-haitham's favourite novels as bookmarks. the flowers, cheerfully and playfully weaved into al-haitham's hair, always brought a smile onto his face.

the fresh stream that lives nearby is home to small fishes that travel with the currents – squint hard enough and perhaps you'd see arrietty waving from behind a river plant. the water – cool and sweet, bore witness to much of your laughter and splashing him each other on salty, sweltering summer days.

and your garden – oh, your garden. how blessed you are; a garden so colourful and fruitful. spring bears witness to the sweetest apricots and cherries ; summer says hello to sweet mangoes and fresh strawberries ; fall greets crisp applies and tart cranberries – and winter is the period of frantic churning and mixing of jam and compotes, all ready for the chilly winter to come.

your garden; home to herbs and vegetables that you grow to supply hearty meals to your table. the sweet radishes that are lovingly tended to in the autumn finds its way to harvest baskets . . . baskets that are sweetly put together as presents for your neighbours.

al-haitham always picks the best of each harvest to give away. there's something preciously sweet about it – perhaps you've rubbed your childlike kindness off onto your husband. the best we own should be given to others.

now, your cottage – home to sweet laughs that spill from your husband's mouth that you were always greedy for. his soft touches, a pleasant and constant reminder that i am here ; ever so fleeting of his warmth meeting yours.

a home so full of love and the sweet light of spring...

a home of laughter, and warmth, and constant intimacy of tender kisses on your cheek and the resting of your forehead against his.

"good morning."

"hayi! good morning!" you find yourself squealing as al-haitham peppers your face with his sweet kisses, giggling as he kissed your reddened cheeks – then your forehead – then your nose – and your supple lips.

"mmmph." he grunts and leans in, soaking in your warmth.

how rare is it that he gets a morning with his sweet darling, all to yourself?

"what do you want for breakfast?"

you watch him, hands on his hip and peering into your fridge stocked full of food. it's almost comical how homely your husband is now as compared to his younger self – you stifle a small giggle.

"..."

"what?"

"nothing!"

"tell me." al-haitham turns to look at you.

"i said it's nothing!" a petulant whine slips past your lips. delightfully soft giggles fill the room as al-haitham makes his way over to you – a comfortable, light morning.

"tell me." your husband gently pokes your sides, playfully frustrated with your refusal to tell him what was so funny.

"you just look so cute like this." you grin sweetly up at him.

"...like what?"

"like my husband!"

a soft silence fills the room – thoughtful contemplation as he takes in your endearing excitement – before al-haitham breaks out into rare, unbridled chuckles. you're too cute for him, he thinks. how did someone so seemingly opposite of him fall so deeply in love?

indeed, it's true – your cottage, so filled with love and the sweet light of spring, is a home.

[mistydeyes]

take a walk in my shoes

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summary: With the 141 boys home and relaxing in your embrace, you decide to show them a day in your life. A sequel to opposite occupations.

pairing: 141 x civvie! fem!Reader (established relationship)

warnings: swearing, mentions of tattooing (tattoo guns and needles), but like before all fluff!

a/n: i love our lil squad of civilian significant others and thought a sequel needed to be made for our faves :)

🏷️ @fan-of-encouragement - thanks for giving me some ideas for price and the florist!

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watching love bloom - price x florist!

Ever since you first met, Price had been a tremendous help with the management of your shop. You had been going steady for a year now, "10 years in military time" Price would say. Although, it was as if you both were practically married. Besides hosting dinners and communicating with the other civilian girlfriends (in a group chat called "almost military wives🪖💍"), you lived like an old, married couple. Together, you and Price owned a small cottage placed in the English countryside. It was idyllic as Price could spend his evenings on the porch with a smoke and you could tend to a growing flower garden. Price requested some design choices but overall you furnished the home with items curated for the two of you. Your house was constantly filled with life, a new bouquet always resting on the table, and many thriving houseplants. Price would always joke that the plants were like your children especially when you went to water some and even sang to them.

Upon Price’s return to your shared home, he could tell something was on your mind. The living room was a mess with written notes and sketches as well as many sample flower bouquets.

“Darling I’m home!” he called setting his things down. He wondered where you could be. Suddenly you came from the backyard with an armful of flowers and your phone balanced between your ear and shoulder. When you saw him, you almost dropped your trimmings but Price moved to you and caught them.

“I’m glad you liked the arrangements, I’ll have them ready tomorrow,” you sighed before the other person on the line hung up.

After bombarding him with many kisses, he reminded you that the flowers were wilting with the lack of hydration.

“Who was that before?” he asked as he filled some buckets with water for you.

“It’s a bride from London, she and her partner are getting married in town. Funny enough, they started dating because of my little flower sign.” you chuckled as you began to prune the leaves and trim the stems from your haul. “Ah sounds like someone I know,” he said, gently kissing your forehead.

“As much as I enjoy the celebration of love and business, it’s been a whirlwind. You wouldn’t imagine how many phone calls and test runs I’ve had.” It was no exaggeration, these last few weeks had been a living hell as you helped the couple make their final preparations.

“Let me help you out tomorrow, got nothing better to do” he offered as he wrapped his strong arms around your waist. “You really don’t have to” you replied but he could see the stress this was putting on you. “Darling, there is nothing more that I would love than spending time with you and seeing you at work.”

You and Price woke up bright and early at 5 am. The sun crept on your sleeping face as he gently woke you. After some necessary coffee, you and Price opened your shop. You went to work, grabbing buckets of flowers from the fridge. You loved the brides but this order was shipped to you from a farm, one currently not being met with the cold, autumn temperatures. As you trimmed the summery array of dahlias, hydrangeas, and cosmos, Price helped to move the never-ending buckets and took care of the growing piles of trash. You were in the middle of showing him how to assemble a bridesmaid bouquet when you heard the door open.

"Fuck, can you take care of that?" you asked as you glanced at the clock, the wedding slowly approaching. "Love, what did I tell you when we first met?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I am not a man for flowers" you both said in unison. You continued, "Please John? I have a list underneath the counter detailing the different flowers for occasions. You got this!" you placed a small kiss on his lips, knowing he would do whatever you asked.

He nodded and exited to the front. When he emerged, he could see an elderly woman. "Can you help me pick out flowers? My grandson just got a new job and is moving here tomorrow" she sweetly asked. "Oh and young man, I just need them wrapped. No arranging necessary" she continued and you could hear Price rifling around for your book. Miraculously through your notebook's guidance and some of your aesthetic impressed on him, he was able to help her pick out a colorful array of peonies, tulips, and chrysanthemums - a perfect combination for a congratulations gift. You made sure to shout out from the back that he should include some wisterias and eucalyptus as a nice welcome message. You caught a glance at the bouquet and you were happy to see that the lilac hydrangeas with the orange ballerina tulips were balanced with the magenta chrysanthemums and the bundles of wisteria and eucalyptus. You can safely say, the one thing he was a natural at was tying up the loose stems. You guess his training did come in handy.

As you finished making the final additions to your bouquet, you heard Price making conversation with the older woman. “Young man, I hope you have a sweetheart at home waiting for you,” she said as you peeked and saw him handing her a bouquet. “I do actually, she reminds me that there’s more to life than destruction,” he said and you could’ve married him on the spot. The old woman wished him well as you heard the sound of her exit.

As you exited from the back, you planted a kiss on his cheek. “What’s that for?” he asked. “For being the boyfriend and employee” you smiled back at him, admiring his face that shined in the afternoon light. “Might have to change positions soon,” he joked and while you initially thought he meant employment, you realized it was something else as a more than year later he proposed. Don’t worry, he let you handle the wedding floral arrangements.

two inked hearts - soap x tattoo artist!

Although Soap had his own home, he always managed to end up at yours when he was on leave. This time was no different but unfortunately, the short notice did not allow you to take off of work. You had two customs the next day and four flash works as well.

As you were enjoying your beer, you heard the front door unlock. Knowing who it was, you walked to the entrance and saw your boyfriend standing there. Although he appeared tired and a bit grimy, his face lit up when he saw you. He kicked off his snow covered boots and dropped his duffle. He held his arms out and you immediately embraced him.

After many kisses, you lightly punched his chest. "I didn't know you were coming home so early!" you said, slightly pouting. "Well is that any way to greet a soldier," he replied and you couldn't help but smile as you missed his loving accent. "I would have called off work tomorrow," you began to say before he interrupted. "Work doesn't have to stop because I'm home, lass. I'll just go to work," he said as you pondered this decision. It was clear, he didn’t want your busy schedule to get in his way and would follow you around like a lost puppy. "I mean if the shop and the patrons don't mind, then I guess," you said back, ecstatic he would see you in your element. "Until then, you're all mine, Bonnie" he laughed before picking you up and sat you both back on the couch.

After a rushed morning, trying to get the man to let you out of bed, you showed up to work. It was winter so to Soap's dismay, you were unable to showcase all your amazing tattoos. He did insist on matching outfits. So emerging from the winter cold, you entered both wearing matching beanies and winter coats. Upon your arrival, one of your fellow artists warmly greeted Soap and commented on how cute you both were. After some catching up, you went to set up your station. Soap followed you and watched as you got your tattoo gun and the inks you would be using for the first customer. He held your waist as you sterilized the area. "My beautiful artist," he cheekily said and you rolled your eyes.

Now you were no idiot, there was no way anyone would let him tattoo them. Although his signature mohawk made him fit in with the shop's patrons. Knowing he would eventually become bored after watching you, you left him with a sketch pad and pens in a corner of your room. Your first client of the day was one of your frequent patrons. They had decided on one of your flash pieces, a hand holding a bouquet of rosemary leaves, on their thigh. As you got them comfortable in the chair, you gave Soap a quick peck and began the process. You would occasionally glance over and see him drawing with a concentrated look. “From strong, protective boyfriend to a child in seconds,” you mumbled and earned a hearty laugh from your patron.

And so the day continued, you tattooing away and Soap drawing in the corner. He would occasionally ask you what the different needle gun sizes were for and how you were able to create custom works for clients. He even conversed with another soldier getting a bicep tattoo of a skull with snakes surrounding it. You thought the idea was badass, complimenting his choice. Almost immediately, Soap interjected to say his tattoo was the best compared to the one they were getting. Eventually, once you were done for the day, you walked to Soap to see what he was drawing. You snatched the paper and in return, he pulled you into his lap.

"Well, what do we have here, my tattoo apprentice?" you asked, holding up the paper. As you looked at each drawing, you could see some familiar faces. You couldn't help but laugh when you say "You have to pay the" with Price's face following the words. He even managed to draw what looked like a depiction of Simon underneath his mask as well as Price in a florist's apron in front of his girlfriend's shop.

Your favorite was the bar of soap he had drawn in the corner with a surprising amount of detail. "You know with this work and the fact they call you 'Soap', I would think you wouldn't be as smelly," you joked. "I thought it was cool at first, they all said it was because I'm good at cleaning house but I see what you mean," he said, slightly embarrassed. You kissed him gently before telling him it was time to return to your warm bed.

Weeks later, you texted Soap a picture of your new tattoo. It was the sketch he had drawn of the bar of soap. You had done it yourself, his drawing placed on your forearm. He loved it, proudly showing it off to the other 141 boys and anyone who listened. He even was sure to text Alejandro and Rudy a picture with the caption "mira el nuevo tatuaje de mi novia!". He did ignore the reply from Alejandro that asked, “¿por qué la chica inteligente se tatuaría una barra de jabón?”

translations: mira el nuevo tatuaje de mi novia! - look at my girlfriend's new tattoo!

¿por qué una chica inteligente se tatuaría una barra de jabón? - why would a smart girl get a bar of soap tattooed on her?

being the teacher's pet - gaz x teacher!

"You know the kids always ask about you," you told Gaz as you lay leisurely on his couch. It was a Sunday and you both were enjoying each other's presence before the school week. He came home on Friday and you welcomed him home with a cooked meal and his favorite bottle of wine. The entire weekend was filled with cuddling on the couch and catching up about the last couple of months. You laughed when he told you of Soap's girlfriends tattoo. You joked wishing he had a cooler call sign so you could get it tattooed. Since your first date, you both had established a comfortable long distance relationship but you always loved when he was home.

"I could make an appearance," he joked. As you lay on his chest, you could feel him laughing lightly. He would come to regret that statement as you begged him to visit the class the next day. After some convincing, he obliged unable to deny your sweet face.

The next day, you stopped by Kyle’s flat for some morning coffee. As you opened the door, you could see him standing by the hallway mirror making sure he looked presentable. You smiled, noting he was wearing the beige button-up and navy blue sports coat you had bought him. You suddenly felt underdressed in your green slacks and brown blouse.

“You look great, Kyle, let’s go get something to drink” you spoke and he looked at you with his charming smile that brightened the room. He took your hand gently and you walked to the local coffee shop. It was spring and you couldn't help but admire the new blooms on the trees. Once you both arrived, you enjoyed your morning brew as he sipped his tea. You wished he could stay home forever as he looked so relaxed in the early morning sun. However, you suddenly were reminded of the time and kissed him on the cheek, reiterating that he should be at school for snack time.

Once you arrived at the school, you went about your typical routine and eventually, it was time to begin your lessons. You went through your plan, teaching your students basic arrhythmic in the morning. As snack time approached, you smiled knowing you'd make your students' day.

“Alright, class! I have a surprise for you” you eagerly said. Gaz was on the other side of the classroom door, smiling as he heard your enthusiastic voice. “We have a special guest today who’s going to join us for snack time!”

With that, you whisked open the door and Gaz walked into the cheers of the children. He had two lunchboxes in his hand and your heart melted. The entire class wanted Gaz to sit with them so you decided to form them into a circle so everyone could enjoy his presence. You opened the lunchbox to reveal a variety of strawberries and watermelon, delicately cut into hearts. As everyone ate their snacks, one of your students asked if Gaz would be teaching them today.

"Well I'm sure Mr. Military Man could teach you some things while we eat," you winked looking at Gaz. The children were giddy with excitement and kept begging Gaz to teach them some military things. Not wanting to expose them to the horrors of his job, he simply taught them the military alphabet and assigned them all code names. He carefully assigned one to each kid based on their personalities as well as some stories you had told him. As you watched your boyfriend methodically assign the names, you softly chuckled to yourself. In another life, Gaz would be an amazing teacher as he was great with the kids.

Once snack time was over, you let the children know they would be doing some quiet reading before practicing some of their writing skills. Gaz sat on the edge of your desk as you answered some emails from parents.

You both then heard a child whisper, "Goose, can we swap books? I finished mine." Her friend replied, "Shhh, Maverick I'm almost done." You let out a small laugh, enjoying the subtle nod to the Top Gun movie.

"Goose, you can get another book from the cubby" you said as the other children continued reading. Looking over to Gaz you gave him a smile. “Thanks for doing this, babes,” you said and placed your hand on top of his. The moment was momentarily spoiled when he whispered, “So when are we going to have our army of kids?”

Upon Gaz’s next return from the 141, he found his apartment filled with framed drawings from the children. You had surprised him with it and all of your students were more than happy to participate. Each one of them wrote their names at the bottom along with their call sign. They all had one theme: “Miss Y/N and her husband.”

a purr-fect romance - ghost x veterinarian!

"How's my favorite patient doing?" you ask as you see Ghost with Earl Grey in his arms. Simon had come home just in time to enjoy the beginning of summer and the clear skies. He was dressed in a neutral-colored t-shirt and shorts, enjoying the nice weather you recently had been having. He even had put Earl in a small straw hat you had bought. You loved seeing him look like a little beach-goer.

“I’m doing well, love,” he said and gave you a peck on the cheek. As soon as he got close to you, Earl Grey tried to leap on you. “Well hello to you, Earl” you smiled as Ghost gently handed him to you.

In the last two years, Earl and Simon had become your home. You and Simon owned a flat down the street, a lovely commute for you to the office and a place of solace for him. When you began to furnish your home, you were astonished at how little he had in personal items and how much he had for Earl. Maybe it was due to all this spoiling that Earl had a clear love for Ghost. When he would leave for deployment, Earl would find his way to sneak in between you both in bed. One time Ghost snuck out of bed and was able to capture an image of you sleeping on your stomach with Earl resting on your back. Although you said you looked like a hot mess with your sprawled figure and crazy hair, Ghost treasured the photo and printed out a small copy to keep with him at all times. Despite this domestic life, Ghost would always insist on bringing Earl Grey to your office whenever he was home. It would be easier to just have you bring him in with you for his check-up but you secretly loved seeing your boyfriend in your office.

“Just a check-up and vaccine for us today, Doc” Ghost said as you checked them in. It was later in the afternoon and you had sent your assistants home as the only patient was Earl for the rest of the day. Plus, you knew they would love to enjoy the warm evening around town. “Actually, would you like to see what I do?” you asked. He nodded and you could tell he was curious.

You lead him to one of the rooms as you donned your coat and gloves of your own. You gently placed Earl down and went through the motions, showing Ghost how you typically performed an exam. You let him listen to Earl's heartbeat with your stethoscope and described to him what things to look for when examining his coat, ears, eyes, and mouth.

"Well I'm happy to say, Mr. Riley, that your cat is in perfect health," you smiled at him and you raised your hand in front of Earl to receive a high five. "Now just for that rabies shot," you said and you pulled out the materials from around the office.

As you drew up the vaccine, Ghost entertained Earl with one of the many ribbon teaser toys lying around. You laughed as you saw Earl going crazy for the thing. Finally ready, you let Ghost pet him as you found the best area on Earl's right hind leg to administer. Setting him on his side, your heart warmed hearing him purr gently into Simon's arms.

"Alright, Earl, this will be real quick," you said and you quickly administered the shot. Earl whined and Ghost tried his best, gently saying to him, "It's okay bud, the lovely doc is almost done." With that, you finished and allowed Earl to return to his toys as you cleaned up.

Ghost picked Earl back up and you closed up the office. As you walked home in the balmy night air, Ghost was clearly in a cheery mode. "You're so great with animals, when are we-" he began to joke before you stopped him. "We can think about adopting maybe another kitten. I swear if you make Kyle's joke about having an army of them, then you can live in a house with them while his girlfriend and I live in our clean flat." With that, he laughed and wrapped a free arm around you. You wondered how life could be so perfect. You lived with your soulmate, taking care of an animal who loved you both and got to end the night with long conversations over some tea. You smiled up at him, content with your loving boyfriend and his cat child.

[embrosegraves]

𝕄𝕒𝕞𝕒 𝕒𝕟𝕕 ℙ𝕒𝕡𝕒'𝕤 𝕊𝕠𝕟𝕘

(request) dad!Sebastion x mum!Reader(she/her pronouns) Kids: Ada (10), Baer (10), Carlin (7), Della (3) (Baer is pronounced like Bear)

Incredibly brief mention of murder (its from a murder mystery podcast)

A list of translations will be at the bottom :D

It was a pretty standard evening in the Vettel household. Sebastian was in the backyard tending to the plants and bees, Y/n was cutting vegetables to use for dinner in the kitchen and all four of their children were being entertained by some movies in the lounge room. It was peaceful. 

In the kitchen, Y/n had her phone connected to a speaker as it played the latest episode of a murder mystery podcast she had started listening to. Seb walked in to hear the hosts describing how the victim was killed in disturbingly vivid detail. He walked up to his wife and hugged her from behind.

“Should I be worried, Blume?” He asked, his voice muffled from his place by her neck. Y/n laughed and shook her head. 

“Of course not, Liebe. It was the first thing to play when I connected my phone to the speaker.” 

Putting the last of the cut up vegetables in the pot, Y/n turned around in her husband’s arms. Before she could say anything, the sound of three stampeding children rushed to them. 

“Mama! Papa! Come quick, it’s on the tv!” Baer, their eldest son, called to them. Their eldest daughter (and Baer’s older twin), Ada, rushed to grab her mother’s hand. 

“Schnell Mama, bevor es losgeht!" She exclaimed. 

Seb looked at Y/n in bewilderment. Their children had never acted like this before. They were supposed to be watching some DVDs that they had in the tv cabinet. 

“Lieblinge, what’s going on? What is the hurry?” Seb asked them. This time it was their youngest son, Carlin, (who happened to be holding his baby sister, Della) that answered him. 

“We were watching the gnome movie and they started to play the song that you always put on for Mama when you dance in the lounge!”

Y/n still sported a look of confusion, but she put the stove on simmer nonetheless. She took Della from her brother and rested the young girl on her hip before the children started to lead her and Seb to the lounge room. 

When they got there, Ada was quick to usher her parents to sit on the couch and tell her brother to rewind the movie until just before the song started. Baer wasted no time and before either Seb or Y/n knew, they were listening to a cover of Elton John’s “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart” from the Gnomeo and Juliet movie. Seb’s face broke out into a smile as he recalled all of his precious memories associated with the song. Y/n laughed as she listened to the song and watched her children dance in front of the tv like she and Seb and done on many occasions. 

When the song finished, Y/n and Seb clapped and cheered for their children while they all clambered onto the couch to sit with their parents. Ada climbed onto Seb’s lap while Baer and Carlin sat right in between Seb and Y/n. Della had moved to sit on her mother’s lap facing her father. 

“That was lovely, my darlings! Bravo!” Y/n said once they had calmed slightly. 

“Can you tell us about when you first heard the song, Mama?” Baer asked with excitement. Seb laughed and ruffled his son’s hair. 

“Mama and I can tell you all about it after we eat dinner, okay? And then we can all dance for a bit before bed.”

The children cheered before rushing off to the bathroom to wash their hands before they ate. Y/n clasped her hand with Seb’s and gave him a soft look. 

“Thank you, Seb.” she said. 

“What are you thanking me for, Liebe?” 

“For giving me the most wonderful family to cherish. And for being the best husband I could have ever dreamed for.” 

Seb moved to kiss the back of her hand, still entwined with his. “You have nothing to thank me for. You deserve all of this and more.” 

In their moment of love, the couple failed to notice their four children peeking around the doorway, watching. 

“I want to have a love like Mama and Papa.” Ada whispered to her brothers. 

“Right now?” Carlin asked, also whispering.

“Not right now. When I am older maybe.” 

“We will all have a love like theirs when we’re older. I’m sure of it.” Baer whispered with conviction. “For now, help me get Della in her high chair.”

Translations (provided by Google Translate): Blume = Flower Liebe = Love Lieblinge = Darlings Schnell Mama, bevor es losgeht! = Quick Mama, before it goes!

[highlordofkrypton]

warmth // an elain x lucien smut one-shot

This was written as a response to @lainalit's request for a specific Elucien scenario 😉

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I've never written Elain before, and this fic turned out way more delicate than I expected! Hope you all enjoy it.

SUMMARY: Elain loves her husband, but as the emissary of the Spring Court, Lucien is always busy. She decides to set a time limit; he can work as long as he can resist her.

Read on AO3 or under the cut (tw: explicit content).

The earth feels cool on her long slender fingers; it feels like home. Old memories of their hovel drift into her mind as she pokes little burrows for the water to seep more deeply into the ground, and perhaps if she's lucky, wild little flowers will find a home to grow in.

Her work is purposeful, though humble. On one end of the garden, roses bloom, watching the centuries go by despite their creator's absence. She sings to them, and tells them stories of their son, the current High Lord of this magical, blossoming place.

"Your sprout is doing well," she whispers to the spirit of Tamlin's mother who has lived here for an eternity and a half. "But you already knew that."

The plot right beside the yellow flowers are a little hoard of alpine lotuses. They breathe with scent of crisp night, but their hearts are as bright as spring itself. Elain tends to them too; the flowers—they speak to each other. She may not be privy to their conversations, but they all seem to mirror one another.

Elain picks up her basket and adjusts her sunhat, moving from eternal flower to eternal flower. She knows each of them like old friends, some of whom their magic is familiar and others, a welcomed stranger into her life.

It was her idea to sow this garden; it was her mission to create a place of peace and safety for all those who wanted to protect what matters most to them. Faeries and humans alike would come here and plant their love, either a single grain of everything they have, or grand gestures of adoration. When Tamlin had told her to make herself at home, this was her only request. A place for all to love freely.

The High Lord had not only granted her wish, but he extended his protection over all which bloomed in his soils, no matter their origins.

Her first and last stop is always the bright orange emberflowers at the edge of her garden. When the breeze blows, their petals crackle like a warm fire on a cool summer's eve. Their song welcomes her as she approaches, and they sway at the sight of her smile—happy little children at the sight of their beloved mother.

"Hello, my darlings," she hums.

Their petals are soft, and she remembers only to touch the edges where the colour errs on the shades of fall. She had made the mistake of touching the bright ringlets of blue at their cores, and it had burned her terribly.

It was her mistake for thinking something so soft and comforting would be without its own edges. Lucien had told her their flowers hold the ferocity with which he would protect their love, but Elain knew that she would protect what they have twice as hard.

When every member of the garden has been cared for, Elain retreats to the Lord's manor. She skips past Alis and the gaggle of new handmaidens. She introduces herself briefly, quickly brushing her soiled hands across the white apron over her dress, before excusing herself. The basket of gardening tools is left on the first floor while she searches for her dutiful half, but not before washing her hands clean with lilac water.

Though she knows exactly where he is, Elain still makes a game out of it, wondering if she'll ever catch her husband in one of the many other rooms in the manor. Their room, though full of flowers and beloved paintings, is empty. The library is still a mess—a chaos that can only be attributed to guests enjoying the company of their home—but without its Lord Emissary.

She breezes through the long hallways, past the prim white walls and golden trims of intricate moldings. Her life on the other side of the wall had been years ago, and yet, she still cannot believe the opulence of a High Lord's home.

"Miss Elain, Miss Elain!" A tiny pixie buzzes beside her, crystaline wings fluttering wildly to keep up with Elain's long strides. "I did it! I did it!"

"I told you," Elain reprimands, voice light like a chime. "Elain is just fine." She holds her hands out to cup the little creature as it stands stark naked, hands on her little hips. "How did it go?"

"I told them! I told them that just because I was little, they couldn't push me around. It's not very springy of them," the pixie nods, her pointed tuft of hair bouncing with the movement. "And that the Lady of our Court would be very disappointed."

"And what did they say?"

"Um," the pixie gets shy. "Well, they said that Spring Court doesn't have a Lady, so I kicked them in the butt real hard."

Elain laughs. There are those who have yet to acclimate to her role in the Spring Court. Her husband, for all intents and purposes, is the Lord Emissary of Spring and in the absence of the Court's High Lord, the decisions fall to Lucien. She takes none of it to heart.

"I can't say I endorse the violence," Elain says firmly, but she looks around to see if anyone is around to eavesdrop. "Good job standing up for yourself." She smiles and presses a gentle kiss on the pixie's forehead. "I heard there's honey tarts in the kitchens. You should go reward yourself. Tell Aed that I, the not-Lady of the Court, sent you."

"Thank you, Miss Elain! I couldn't'a done it without you!"

The pixie flies off, excitedly doing loop-de-loops in the air, as Elain waves her goodbye.

Onwards towards my husband, Elain muses, a soft smile on her delicate features.

Five rhythmic knocks signal her arrival. Lucien lifts his head, and her heart flutters at the sight of him. Her spirits had been light already, but being with him makes her soul soar.

"My love," he greets smoothly.

"My dutiful emissary," she reprimands with a grin. "How long have you been here?"

Lucien sets his quill down, and waves away the other three that were scribbling away by the grace of his magic. "Not that long."

"Since the first crow of the cock, at least, and it is nearly noon." The grin that slithers on his face is made of mischief. Elain ignores the implications, skirting into the room. "When I married you, I thought I would have more of you."

"So did I, but our High Lord seems to have developed an aversion to paperwork. It's fatal, he says."

"Mhm, and that is why he is galavanting in Night Court?"

"He, and I quote, brought the honey — where else will he find the moon but in the Night Court?"

"Clever."

With a single finger (and his help), she coaxes his chair backwards. Elain climbs into her lap, and when he leans to press a kiss to her lips, she turns to focus on work. That is his preference, is it not? Instead, his kiss lands on the tops of her pointed ears.

"What's this?"

Elain's eyes dance across the page. It is a draft with words crossed out haphazardly and more scribbles above. She finds many things in the discarded—words of love and adoration, a plea for celebration, and a hundred other soft sentiments.

"You're still doing this?"

Lucien rests his chin on her shoulder, wrapping his arms around her waist securely as he reads along with her. "Mhm."

"Lucien," she breathes. "You don't need to."

He promised—he promised he would love her in every which way, including professing his love to her in the languages of the Seven Courts of Prythian. On their fingers, they wear the shadows of the Night Court, a promise to always hold one another. In their eyes, flickers of brown dot Lucien's russet, and vice versa for Elain—the magic of Dawn sealed their promise to always see one another through glamour, magic and the storm of emotions. Both Autumn and Spring bargains are sealed here in the garden, their very own fire contained in their eternal flowers.

In his newest letter, he entreats the Winter Court to allow them into their territory for the Midwinter Festival where the two of them can bring life to a snowmite through the magic of their bargain. High Lord Kallias is not his father, but since Amarantha's invasion, Lucien has always tread carefully with Winter.

"I do. I love you to the ends of this Earth and back."

"I know that, you foolish male. I don't need grand gestures."

"And yet, you will recieve them anyway," Lucien grins.

"Even at the cost of spending time with my husband?"

"I'm almost done, my darling."

Oh, this will not do. Even if Lucien says he's almost done, Elain knows that this is the lie that plagues him the most. She presses a gentle kiss to his lips. "Not good enough. Aed has prepared new recipes for us to try. The food will get cold."

She knows if she truly asked him to stop working, he would. There is nothing Lucien would deny her. Instead, an idea flutters into her mind. The kind of idea that brings a deep flush to her cheeks. Mother above, it's so unlike her, Elain doubts if she can execute it properly. She would ask her sisters were they here, but they too have taken to galavanting across Prythian now that the threat of death no longer looms above them. Not for years now.

How much is too much? She would ask them.

A few years ago, we had nothing. Nothing is too much, Feyre would surely say while grazing on a tamelon with her feet up on the ornate couch and her boots still on.

Who cares? Nesta would snap. Do what makes you happy, El. He's a male, he will be happy with whatever you give him.

It's true, Feyre would agree.

It's a wonder how things have changed—how three sisters who could not be more different are now in sync. Their family, once fractured, feels whole again.

"You will have a time limit."

Lucien's auburn brows perk. "Oh? And how much time will I have?"

"That depends," Elain says, getting up and adjusting her skirts. She feigns looking for something under her desk.

"On what? What are you looking for down there?" Rather than answer, she pulls his chair closer, effectively trapping her beneath the desk, between his legs. "Elain?"

Never in her years has she thought of doing something like this. She has always watched the others; how freely they express their adoration for their partners. Her shyness has always overwhelmed her. If not, the propriety he mother taught her always took precedence. Her duty as the wife of an emissary is to represent him well. What use is there for her to do such things?

Only one way to find out.

Arousal pools in her belly before she even begins, warmth settling between her legs. She bites her lip, fascinated by the magic of her own mind. She hasn't done anything, and yet her body knows.

Elain's slender fingers smooth over Lucien's thighs. Beneanth the tailored fabric, she can feel the strength of his lean muscles. His style has always been a choice, projecting elegance and flair, all while hiding the power beneath. (Power that she knows well.)

She kisses his knee, a loving gesture he has done to her time and time again—one that she is happy to reciprocate. Her touch wanders to his hips, and his ass without lingering too long.

"Elain." Lucien's voice is a shuddered breath. "What are you doing?"

"Entertaining myself while you finish your work."

"Elain," he outright moans, a single-word complaint.

A smile dances on her lips as her hand explores the blooming erection between his legs. Elain laughs softly, but its drowned out by Lucien's groan. He spreads himself as much as he can, trapped between the walls of the desk. He could shatter the desk, but that would defy the point of her game.

Button by button, Elain takes her sweet time in freeing her husband's cock from the confines of his tailored trousers. It springs free, tall, proud and glistening, even in the dim light under the desk. She takes it in his hand, stroking the soft skin and toying with the folds of his tip.

"Ah, ah, Elain."

He speaks her name like a prayer, like salvation wrapped up in a single sound. His hips rise, looking for more friction, and the attempt makes her pull back. She is in charge, not him. Lucien groans, sitting up properly. He sighs, and above her, the quills begin to scribble once more.

He's getting it, she hums to herself, amused.

Elain leans forward, kissing the root of his erection. Her warm breath curls over his skin. She presses her lips along its length until she reaches the top and tongues beneath the skin to taste the salty-sweet of his precome. She lingers there for a bit, listening to the heavy breaths of her husband as he reigns in his desire. Then, when she's satisfied, she trails back down towards his balls. Each one is taken whole in her mouth, sucked lovingly. She nips at the skin; she gets to enjoy him in a new way today, entirely at her own pace and without his distractions.

Her husband is an impatient man, and a giving man, which means that she cannot have him on display like this—which means that she has never had him at her mercy. He squirms when the cool air hits his saliva-slicked balls.

"Keep playing with them," he pleads, but he is not in control here. The only thing Elain cares to hear is whether or not he is enjoying himself.

"Elain, you will be the death of me." He pauses, and she can hear the smile in his voice. "You give me life."

Another kiss graces Lucien's tip. Then, Elain spreads her lips to take him into her mouth. She cannot take him whole, not on the first try, and her throat seizes around him. She has to pull back.

"Fuck," he growls.

Elain tries again.

His cock slides into the warmth of her throat, and she holds him there. Just a little more. She just has to figure out how to take a little more of him. Thinking about it doesn't help, but she knows she has to measure her breath. She knows that she has to simply enjoy this.

Her fingers slip between her legs, feeling the moist patch at the centre of her undergarments. Outside the pink fabric, Elain applies pressure. A soft pulsing rhythm to distract her. The more she toys with herself, the more willing she is to open her mouth, to coax that fluttering muscle at the back of her mouth to yield for her husband's thick length.

"Are you playing with yourself?" He asks from above. "I can smell you, my sweet flower."

"Mhm."

"Fuck. I can just see it, my love. I could come on the very thought of you fingering yourself for me, so you can take me deeper."

Elain stops, wincing her eyes shut. She could come on the words spilling from that damned mouth of his and he isn't trying. (She has come on his words alone.) Breath heavy, she swallows him to the root.

And then, she simply stays there.

"I want to fuck your mouth," Lucien complains. "I want to fuck your mouth. Fuck. You feel so good." His fingers curl into the desk, scraping at the wood. There is a long moment where he seems at war with himself, debating whether to give into his desire for this beautiful, wonderful woman at his feet, but he proves himself to be the better male.

Lucien gets to work. Elain remains between his legs, warming his cock with her mouth. She stops toying with herself. Instead, she leans her cheek against his thigh and waits. Occasionally, his fingers would reach down to caress her hair—to toy with her ear affectionally—before he finishes what he was writing. Whenever he touches her, Elain's eyes would flutter shut in sheer comfort.

Her eyes flutter shut. Occasionally, Elain will shift her tongue and even the slightest bit of friction will have him hardening once more. Her jaw begins to ache; like magic, he reaches down to massage the tense muscle. His hand trails down her neck, then to her shoulder for a gentle, grateful squeeze.

She hears him without him neeeding to say anything—

What have I done to deserve you?

It's why he will anchor their love in every Court, in every single one of their love languages. For her.

"I'm done," his voice rouses her from her comfortable lull, despite her mouth full of his cock. "Do you—"

Elain sits straighter, gripping his hip with one hand and withdrawing herself from him ever so slightly. She wraps her slender fingers around the base and begins bobbing her head, filling the room with wet, slurping sounds. She hollows her cheeks, sucking her husband's cock to the best of her ability.

"Hnng, my love."

Strands of her hair fall into her face, and before she can pause to tuck them behind her ear, Lucien's already there, gathering her hair in one hand and pulling slightly.

"You'll let me know if I get too rough?"

Elain nods.

Lucien starts to move against her, gently at first. Each thrust into her warm, wet, welcome mouth strikes at her chore. Wetness pools between her legs; she swears that she is ruining the soft carpet beneath her knees, but she has no regrets. None.

She tugs on the hem of his shirt. More, she asks, politely.

The bond nudges at her mind gently. Elain closes her eyes while Lucien fucks her mouth, letting the full breadth of their mating enter her.

She can feel it. Goddesses, she can feel him. She can feel the way her mouth encapsulates the length of his cock—the way her throat flutters around his tip. Each clench sends waves of ecstacy through Lucien, and he fights the urge to grip her hair and properly fuck her.

Oh, that is most definitely a problem.

Elain shifts gears. Using Lucien's thighs as leverage, she ups the pace, bobbing her head on him with fierce determination.

"Elain, ahhhh, Elain. I'm going to come."

Each time she spears herself upon him, the thrust is felt at her core like—like he's fucking both her mouth and her cunt at once. It pulls at her mind in every which way, wearing at her focus. She cannot decide between the high of worshipping Lucien with her mouth or being ridden.

"Let me," Lucien breathes, coaxing her to let him take control with a gentle touch along her jaw.

Elain nods.

His angle shifts, and he cups both her cheeks while driving himself into her. Her pussy clenches, as if trying to grab hold of something that isn't there, but she feels him. Elain slackens her jaw, the only way to take him at this pace. Although he truly, properly fucks her mouth, he's still careful. He never passes the threshold of her throat, never dares choke her; he is delicate in his use of her.

"I'm close, are you—are you sure you don't want me too —ah!"

Her fingers curl around his balls, fondling him. Her touch slips further back towards his perineum, and then, and then—does she dare? Elain presses the pad of one finger against his asshole.

"Elain."

Lucien's reaction is immediate, bucking into her mouth. Warmth floods her, and she has the bitter-sweet taste of his come on her tongue. He pumps into her a couple of more times, hips rolling from the high of ecstacy. When he pulls back, a dribble of saliva and cum escape her lips. She dabs at it, and swallows.

Elain blinks up at him, nothing the expression of surprise on her husband's face. Every time they've made love, he has been the one to take the lead. The fingering trick, that was his that she turned against him and it worked in her absolute favour. She ducks her head, sheepish.

"Don't look at me like that," Lucien grins. He picks her up, carefully placing his hand on her head to protect her from bumping it on the underside of the desk. "It's time for me to return the favour."

"We'll be late for lunch," she says with a deep flush on her cheeks.

"That's not very fair, is it? You've had your fill." Lucien pulls her close, leaning in to breathe into her ear. "Shall I save you for dessert then?" He squeezes her hands as he nips the lobe of her ear, just below the pretty fox earrings her sisters had gotten her for her last birthday. "Next time, don't swallow. I want to taste us." Lucien kisses her anyway.

Oh, oh, her face burns.

"Lucien!"

She smacks his shoulder, but takes a note for next time. There is much opportunity to explore herself and her husband. Some would say, there is an eternity ahead of them.

[spooky-all-year-round]

A Cure for Boredom

Potions shop owner!Garreth x fiancée female!reader

Description: The shop has been boring today, so Garreth and you decide to do something more fun. Aka Garreth rails you but with love.

TW: NSFW, fluff, mentions of him wanting children (but it's brief), semi-public sex, swearing, consensual wandering hands/groping, praise and degradation combined, p in v sex, oral (fem receiving), fingering, body worship, possessive Garreth, pet names ( darling, dearest, my heart, love), dom Garreth, hair pulling, name calling (slut), cum eating, begging

Garreth Weasley had always been popular. So when sometime in the seventh year your then boyfriend became very popular for his potions, it was insane. He had so many orders that he was able to get a flat straight out of school. This is where he worked out of for about two years, placing ads in papers all over Scotland, Ireland, and Britain. After around two years he was able to have not only his own shop but his own home not to far from it. You had moved in just recently after his proposal to you.

You two had been dating since 6th year and the whole time you had been by his side. You helped him research ingredients and sometimes tried his potions, but only after he tried it on himself and found it safe. He wanted to see how other people reacted to it and you were more than willing to help. Also, people were more willing to trust you when you said it was safe. You helped him brew potions when he had too many orders, though he constantly reminded you that you didn't have too. Sometimes your dates would include ingredient hunting. How his face lit up as he thanked you profusely had you swooning. The overwhelming amount of praise would sent you into a heated mess.

But even very popular shops had slow days, you had only had two people come in this morning and it was now around 2 PM. It was a few days after the big rush of last minute parents and student getting all their school supplies. You both had closed early yesterday and the day before to collect any missing ingredients and to double check your stocks. This weekend you both would work on the few potions that you had orders for and send them out. So for now you were just seated in a tall stool, leaning against the counter as you blankly stared at an open book, not taking in a single word and sometimes droning. It felt like being in Binn's class all over again.

Garreth came in from the back of the store, returning from your shared home where he had slipped away to tend to his garden for the few plants he could keep. You both had woken up late and forgotten to do it. So you shooed him away pointing out how dead it was and that you could handle the shop for an hour. He approached you loud enough to hear, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and gave you a kiss on your temple. "Thank you for covering the shop dearest. Nothing too crazy I hope." He buried his face in the crook of your neck to nuzzle and give it a few kisses.

Smiling you slipped off the stool and side stepped while still in his arms so he could be even closer. He happily took the chance to press closer to you, his feet on either side of yours and his front fully pressed against your back. You laid your arms on top of his as he swayed you both gently, his closed mouth still on your neck as he took slow and deep breaths. You made a small hum of content before answering jokingly "Oh my darling, it was so terrible! The place was in shambles without you. Never leave my side again!"

Normally he would be dramatically silly back, but today he lifted his mouth to your ear. "I don't plan on it my heart. You are stuck with me until you cast me aside. But even then my heart will remain yours." It was a whisper that sent a shiver down your body and heat to your face. He pressed a kiss on the tip of your jaw bone just under your ear. "Do you love the the fact that I'm utterly head over heels for you? Well I'm more than that, I'm practically obsessed with you. Every part of you is my favorite, I can't believe I somehow got you. I hope to make you laugh everyday and I'll make sure you feel all my love for the rest of our lives. One day I hope to have little versions of us running around. By that point, you won't even have to help run the shop. I'll hire someone so you can stay home all comfortable." You knew he could do that now, but you loved helping around the shop, so you weren't gonna point it out. "I want to have every part of you as often as you'll let me. To show you how much I love your body as often as I show you how much I love your mind." His hands had started to wonder both going to your hips at first before the left one went to your thigh and the right just under your right breast.

His words were going straight to your core. You bit your lip and glanced at the windows. "Garreth, we can't do that here. Someone will see us." But Merlin did his touch make you want it here. Bent over the counter, dress pushed up as he took you for anyone passing by to know that you belonged to each other. Those thoughts only served to make you more wet. You were brought back to the situation with a long lick to the side of your neck before he placed an open mouth kiss there. You were quickly succumbing to his touch but you tried to hold firm. "Darling you wouldn't want everyone to see my body right? That's all just for you to see." Your words came out as a purr. You knew you had him there, playing right into his possessive side.

He gave a disgruntled hum to your neck. Returning his hands to your hips, he spun you around, pinning your hips with his against the counter. This brought his hard length to your attention as it pressed against your front. His eyes roamed your body before looking directly into your eyes. "True. We could always go to the back, it's been dead all day. We wouldn't even have to close the shop. Most likely no one will show up." There was a devilish glint in his eyes. You couldn't deny how hot that idea sounded. Being taken by his just out of sight but where anyone could walk in and hear? You could feel your thighs quickly becoming more wet. Thanks to the newest fashion, women's undergarments were just two leg sections tied together leaving the middle open so it was easy to go when wearing a dress. This had proven helpful in many moments when Garreth and you had very little time but just needed to feel each other, and now seemed like one of those times.

You ran your hands up and down his arms as you looked at him appraisingly, making him wait for your answer. His arms had gotten slightly thick and muscular from all the foraging, gardening, and potion stirring. Who knew that was such a work out when you did it as often as him? It wasn't long before he let out a little whine and started peppering kisses all over your face. He knew you wanted to and that you wanted to hear how much he wanted it. "Please beautiful, you know I will make you feel amazing. I want to worship your beautiful body and make that amazing brain of your go blank from pleasure."

Smiling you grabbed his face softly and nodded before giving him a heated kiss. That was all he needed, still kissing you he lifted you up and quickly went around the corner and to the back room that was used for safe potion brewing and where the most important ingredients were kept. He let you down so he could open the door behind him and pull you in with the other. Your kiss quickly deepened, tongues sliding along each other's, both of you taking turns nipping and sucking on each other's bottom lip. You didn't even realize he had your back to an empty part of the potions table until he lifted you up to sit you on the edge of it.

He kissed you feverishly and quickly pushed your skirt up to your waist. He trailed kisses down your neck while he massaged your thighs, slowly parting them to have you spread wide. "Unfortunately love, I can't fully undress you here, but I promise I will be more thorough later tonight in our home." Finally he pulled away looking deep into your eyes before glancing down at you. He groaned longingly at the site of your wet pussy spread out on display for him.

Diving right in he started lapping at your hole while moaning. You gasped arching your back at the sudden contact, doing this also caused you to grind down on his face. You could feel his grin as he used one arm to lay across your waist and pin you down. "Such a needy little thing, grinding down on my face and I only just touched you." He started using his thumb on his free hand to rub slow gentle circles on your clit, simultaneously slowly licking up and down the length of your pussy with a flat tongue. When you couldn't help but wiggle to try to get him to do more his grin only widened. "Sooooo impatient, you need me to put something in your cute little pussy? Do you feel so empty without something deep in you? Stop moving and I'll give it to you." It was a light mocking tone that brought heat to your cheeks and you stopped moving your hips. All high and mighty for someone who almost took you on the front counter of his store. But before you could point that out he had switched his hand and mouth.

Now his hand was slipping two fingers into you while his mouth sucked and licked at your clit. The sudden stretch from his fingers felt delicious. You couldn't help but whine and moan tilting your head back in pleasure. His tongue made those quick little circles that drove you crazy. You were turing into a moaning mess quickly as he kept going back and forth between scissoring to prep you and curling his fingers to hit your g-spot, keeping you right on that edge of an orgasm. Whenever he curled his fingers you were bucking to get him to start finger fucking you. He growled looking up at you, "I said. Stop. Moving." You let out a whine before pulling on his hair and rolling your hips again. "Hmm. You're being very naughty. Maybe I should leave you like this till we get home, if you're going to keep misbehaving." You whimpered and shook your head in response. "No? Then beg for me. Start being a good girl and beg for me to fill your tight hole. You're already dripping down my arm and your all prepped. But until I hear you beg properly, I'm not gonna give you my cock."

You didn't want to wait any longer, "Please Garreth! Please please please I need your cock. I need you to bend me over this table and fuck me. Please, I want you to fill my tight pussy with your cum." Your desperate begging was music to his ears, slowly he slipped his fingers out before tugging you off the table. He quickly spun you around and slightly bent you over.

"What a good girl begging for me, now lift up your skirt and hold it for me." You could hear him undoing his belt and pants before pushing them down. Quickly you hiked up your skirt, pushing your ass out more and wiggling it teasingly. He teased your opening with the tip of his cock a bit before slowly sinking into you. Both of you moaned loudly. Once he he was in you to the hilt, he stayed still, waiting for you to be ready. "Fuck, you're so tight, just let me know when you're ready. I'm going to make you feel so good darling." His voice was soft he then kissed the top of your head. It didn't take long for you to start slowly rocking back and forth to signal you were ready. He moaned loudly, dropping his head to your shoulder.

He wasted no time and started a quick and brutal pace. "What a good little slut, bouncing on my cock. You love my cock huh? Well it's all for you. Every. Last. Inch!" He punctuated the last three words with an even harder thrust each. You braced your hands on the table and threw your head back moaning loudly, not caring anymore if someone heard you. With one hand he grabbed you by your hair and pulled you until were mostly standing up, with your back deeply arched. He used his other hand to rub your clit in quick tight circles. The new angle had him rubbing right up against your g-spot with the underside of his cock. "This pussy it mine." He groaned. "And I'm going to claim it by filling it up." He started thrusting faster, he was biting your shoulder through your shirt, knowing it wouldn't be proper for you to walk around with a huge bruise on your neck. But part of him longed to mark your pretty neck up. For you to walk around with bites marks for everyone to see that you were taken. His hands were on your hips guiding you to bounce on his cock as he thrust to meet them.

Your thoughts were quickly turning blank, slowly all you could think about became about cumming and having him cum in you. You could feel your orgasm fast approaching and your pussy started tightening. "Such a good little slut. You gonna come for me? Cum for me good girl, I wanna feel you cum all over my cock." With a loud moan you were sent over the edge. He moaned and whispered a few "good girl"s to you before he bend you over the table again. But this time he covered your body with his as he rut into you as fast as he could. "Merlin, your pussy is addicting. Fluttering around me trying to milk me. I'm yours and your mine. You understand me?" All you could do was nod in agreement only half taking in what he said. He kept repeating "Mine" in your ear until he came in you with a long groan of pleasure. He kept thrusting but his hips slowed as he came down from his orgasm.

When he finally stopped you were both panting. He slowly pulled out of you, chuckling softly at you whining from the loss. But just as you were going drop your skirt back down he dropped to his knees. Turning around he slipped under your skirt between your legs. He licked from the bottom of your pussy all the way up to your clit. You whimpered and tried wiggling away, still a bit sensitive. He did it one more time before crawling out from under you. Once he was standing he pulled on his pants and got them situated as you dropped your skirt. He slowly turned you to face him and buried his face in your neck as he held you close. "I'm sorry my dearest. I just had to taste the results of our love making."

You hummed rubbing his back and slowly playing with his bright orange hair, it was always so soft. He rubbed small circles on your back and traced little shapes with the tips of his fingers. "Well that was one way to cure boredom." You said with a light laugh.

He laughed as well. "Sure was! My favorite way to cure our boredom." He pulled his head back before resting his forehead against yours looking into your eyes. "I love you darling. More than I can put into words." You swear that his smile could light up the whole country.

"I love you too dearest," was your reply before kissing him soft and slow. He returned it, both of you lost in each other, completely forgetting about the front of the store. But that could wait a few minutes longer.

[wriheart]

I’ll probably never write a full fanfic for Ever After High (or at least, it will in the far, far future), but since I’ve been seeing so many eah posts lately I thought I’d ✨grace✨ the internet with my rewrite ideas.

As a bit of context, if I ever were to rewrite eah, it would not be a hate rewrite. I love this series so much, so my rewrite is coming from a place where I want to see more, expand on concepts, and add my own twist to things. (A hate rewrite would be if I were to rewrite Miraculous because that show makes me want to go on a deep dive of everything wrong with it.)

Anyway welcome to part one of

🍎🐦‍⬛Wri’s Ever After High Rewrite🧺🌹

For my world of Ever After, I am taking a lot more inspiration from the original grim tales. This doesn’t mean the stories will be exactly like the originals (especially since there tend to be many variations with translations and whatnot), but I will be staying as loyal to them as I can. This means that many of the villains will not survive their story (we’ll come back to this later though ;)) and some characters will be cut, such as Farah Goodfairy (I’m sorry I know she’s so pretty but I like the original tale where Cinderella is helped by the animals). Additionally, I will be adding characters, since the original show doesn’t always give us all the characters from a story (like how they gave us multiple princesses but only two prince charmings) (I didn’t forget about Darling but from what I remember she was in the damsel in distress class so she doesn’t quite count since the school didn’t consider her getting the destiny of a prince). I’m also cutting most non-grim stories, such as Pinnochio and The Little Mermaid. (There’s a small chance I might use cut characters and just say they’re from other fairy tales. For example, I don’t want to cut Sparrow, so I’ll just say that instead of being the Son of Robin Hood he’s the son of a grimm fairytale character.) DON’T PANIC, I’M NOT CUTTING WONDERLAND. Wonderland is staying because I love the characters and world so much and I also have a great idea to make it make sense. Anyway, those are just some of my notes, let’s get into the world.

Welcome to the world of Ever After, a grand empire made up of a plethora of kingdoms whose rulers report to the highly-respected and loved Emperor Grim. Emperor Grim is said to be older than the stories themselves, and it was through his guidance that the kingdoms were founded, and their stories remembered.

There are many kingdoms in Ever After, including the Kingdom of ___, ruled by the descendants of Snow White; the Kingdom of ___, ruled by the descendants of Aurora Beauty, and the Kingdom of ___, ruled by the descendants of Cinderella. These kingdoms and their rulers report to Emperor Grim, so while they are allowed to make decisions regarding their kingdoms, these decisions must be made under Grim’s guidelines. This allows the Emperor to easily rule Ever After, as the kingdom rulers are loyal to him.

After all, they know what will happen if they stray from the path.

But more about that later.

Within each kingdom of Ever After, there is an enchanted forest. The trees in these forests are very special, as they are the birthplace of the stories. When a story is completed, a seed can be found on the last page of the storybook. A few years after all of the stories are completed, each seed is planted in its kingdom’s enchanted forest, and from the seed, a magical tree grows. The tree produces flowers that, once bloomed, reveal children within. The children are the future fairy tale generation, who will relive the stories of their kingdom.

The tree does not give birth to every character who plays a role in the story, instead, the tree only gives birth to children who are to be the main characters of their tale. For example, the trees within Snow White’s kingdom will only give birth to the next Snow White, Evil Queen and Prince Charming (and maybe the seven dwarves, I haven’t fully decided yet). The rest of the characters will be found. (More on this later.) Every story that is completed is planted within the kingdom, the children are born, and when they are old enough, they are sent off to Ever After High, where they will complete their education before signing The Storybook of Legends and fulfilling their story.

Many of the villain children do not have parents who can raise them, since upon the tale’s completion, the villain dies. These children are raised by noble families. The families were long ago granted titles by the Emperor, and have been raising the children for generations. Each kingdom has at least one or two noble families, such as the noble family who have raised The Evil Queen or the family who have raised The Big Bad Wolf.

Ever after high is a four-year school in which all of the fairy tale children are prepared to relive their stories of their predecessors. For the first three years, they go through many general classes, such as potion making for the villains and good kingdom management for the royals. Then, at the end of their third year, they sign the storybook of legends, and for their fourth year they take story-specific classes to make sure they are officially ready.

For the characters not born in the enchanted forest, Emperor Grim invites regular citizens to apply to attend Ever After High. These roles include The Huntsman and The Twelve Wise Fairies, for example. These characters must go through many tryouts to prove they are worthy of being a part of this great tradition.

When a story isn’t completed, the kingdom vanishes. A few kingdoms have vanished in the past, such as the Kingdom of the Seven Ravens (the kingdom of the seven ravens is subject to change). While on the outside these kingdoms look like they are gone, with a dark forest in their place, in reality, they are still there. Grim traps the kingdoms under a bubble that stops people from entering or leaving the kingdom, and stops those on the outside from seeing the kingdom.

This threat looks over the villain kids at Ever After High. Even though most have no interest in completing their story, there is a very real threat that they, along with their kingdoms will cease to exist if they do not comply. It isn’t until Raven Queen starts digging that she realizes that the kingdoms might not truly be gone.

————

All EAH AU Posts

[glittervame]

I don't know what to say

I can't say no to you

This post is going to be part of the Jinxed July by @thatdammchickennugget and @finalgirllx check it out if you want to know more!

(It posted early so I had to take it down)

No smut sorry my children

Y/n and Theodore Nott had been the epitome of high school sweethearts. Their love story was the kind that made the other students swoon. They were the couple everyone knew would make it through the trials and tribulations of life, holding hands and whispering sweet nothings under the shade of the old oak tree during lunch breaks, sharing secret smiles across crowded hallways, and spending every stolen moment together in the hidden corners of the library, lost in their own little world of love and magic.

When the time came to say goodbye to the hallowed halls of Hogwarts, they decided to take the leap of faith that so many young lovers dream of. They moved in together, eager to build a life full of joy and companionship, weaving their futures together like the threads of an intricate tapestry. They had plans to conquer the world, him with his sharp mind and her with her gentle yet powerful spirit.

Their days were filled with the warmth of a shared home, the comfort of each other's company, and the excitement of new beginnings. Theodore would often be found in his study, surrounded by books and parchments, working on the latest innovation in magical technology, while Y/n would be in the garden, tending to her magical plants, which grew more vibrant and full of life under her loving care.

Once out of school, they decided to try out acting, and they both quickly became popular rising actors. The magic of their love was palpable, even under the bright lights of the stage. They had a certain chemistry that drew people to them, making them the darlings of the Wizarding world's entertainment scene.

But as the seasons changed, so too did the whispers that began to circulate. It started with a rumor here, a sideways glance there. But as time has a cruel way of doing, it threw a wrench into their idyllic existence. A rumor began to spread like wildfire through the Wizarding community, a rumor that whispered of Theodore's infidelity. Someone claimed to have seen Theodore with another woman, a mysterious figure with a siren's smile and an air of enchantment. The gossip spread like wildfire, leaving a trail of doubt and pain in its wake. Y/n, ever the faithful and loving partner, tried to brush it off, telling herself that Theodore would never betray her trust.

But the whispers grew louder, and the evidence began to mount. Letters with no return address, hidden behind books, spoke of secret meetings and passionate embraces. Y/n's heart grew heavy with each new piece of "evidence" that seemed to confirm her worst fears. The doubt grew into a tumultuous storm within her, threatening to consume her.

One fateful evening, Y/n confronted Theodore, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. The air in the room was thick with tension as she spoke the words that had been burning in her heart. "Are you cheating on me?" she asked, her voice trembling with the weight of the question.

Theodore looked at her, his expression a mixture of shock and regret. He knew he had been careless, but he never meant for her to find out. He stumbled over his words, trying to explain, to justify his actions. But the truth was undeniable. He had allowed the temptation of a fleeting infatuation to cloud his judgment, to betray the one person who had always believed in him.

The silence that followed was deafening, filled with the shattered remnants of their once unshakeable bond. The love they had built together now lay in ruins, a casualty of his indiscretion. With a heavy heart, Y/n made the painful decision to end their relationship. She knew she deserved better than a man whose eyes wandered so easily.

The aftermath of the breakup was like a tempest, with emotions swirling and colliding like violent storm clouds. Theodore was lost in a sea of regret, his eyes reflecting the depth of his sorrow. Y/n, though heartbroken, found a newfound strength within herself. She knew she had to move on, to heal and rediscover who she was without him.

Their paths diverged, each seeking solace in their own way. Theodore threw himself into his work, hoping to drown out the guilt that haunted his every waking moment. Y/n focused on her career, channeling her pain into her performances, which grew more poignant and powerful as a result.

Years passed, and the two former lovers went on to live separate lives.

On that fateful evening, the red carpet stretched out like a crimson river under the glittering lights of Hollywood, a stark contrast to the tumultuous emotions that surged within Theodore Nott and Y/n as they stepped onto it. The air was thick with anticipation and the scent of freshly applied makeup and designer perfumes. The crowd roared with excitement, eager to catch a glimpse of their favorite stars dressed to the nines, flashbulbs popping like a thousand paparazzi fireflies capturing every moment for posterity.

Y/n, now a successful model turned actor, walked with poise and grace, her eyes scanning the horizon of faces, searching for a familiar pair that she hadn't seen in years. She had moved on, built a life away from the whispers and shadows of their past. Her heart pounded in her chest like a drum announcing her arrival, a silent symphony that only she could hear.

Theodore, a renowned director known for his gripping storytelling and visual mastery, had come to claim his place among the elite. His sharp gaze darted through the throng, looking for the one person who had once held the key to his heart. He felt a strange mix of dread and hope, as if the very fabric of time was stretching taut, ready to snap them back together or fling them further apart.

As fate would have it, their paths were destined to cross, their eyes locking from afar. The world around them seemed to slow to a crawl, the chatter of the paparazzi and the screams of the fans fading into a distant hum. For a brief, eternal moment, it was just the two of them, standing on the precipice of their shared history.

Their glances were loaded with the weight of unspoken words, the pain of a love lost, and the curiosity of what might have been. The cameras flashed, illuminating their faces with a strobe of white light, but the connection between them remained unbroken. The electricity of their former bond was palpable, a silent conversation that danced in the air.

Y/n felt the warmth of a blush creeping up her neck, the same shade that had painted her cheeks when Theodore had first whispered sweet nothings in her ear. Theodore's jaw tightened, his eyes filled with a storm of emotions he hadn't allowed himself to feel in so long. They both knew that this was not the time or place for a reunion, not with the world watching, not with the scent of scandal still lingering in the air.

With a nod of respect, almost imperceptible to the untrained eye, they each continued their separate paths. The whispers grew louder, the cameras more insistent, but they remained steadfast, two ships passing in the night of glamour and glitz. They had moved on, carved out their own destinies, but the magnetic pull of their past love was undeniable.

As the night progressed, and the stars above twinkled like the sequins on their garments, they couldn't help but steal glances at each other. The tension was palpable, a silent dance of what ifs and could bes. They shared a brief moment at the after-party, a dance floor crowded with celebrities and wannabes, their bodies moving in sync to the rhythm of a love song that played just for them.

Their conversation was forced, polite, a masquerade of indifference. But the spark in their eyes told a different story, one of passion and regret, of a love that had never truly died. As the night grew late, and the party wound down, they found themselves alone in a quiet corner, the music a distant murmur.

Their hearts pounded in sync as they faced each other, the weight of their shared history heavy on their shoulders. The cheating allegations that had torn them apart all those years ago hung in the air, a specter of doubt and pain that neither could ignore.

"Y/n," Theodore began, his voice low and gruff with emotion. "I never got to tell you how sorry I am."

Her eyes searched his, looking for the truth, for the answer to the question that had haunted her for so long. "Theodore," she replied, her voice trembling. "Do you even know what you're sorry for?"

He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving hers. "For not being the man you deserved. For letting fear and doubt rule me."

The silence that followed was deafening, a poignant reminder of the chasm that had grown between them. But in that moment, as their eyes held each other's gaze, they both knew that the past was not so easily forgotten, nor was the love that had once burned so brightly.

As the partygoers began to filter out, and the lights grew dimmer, they parted ways once more, the echo of their footsteps a solemn reminder of the paths they had chosen. But the memory of their encounter lingered, a bittersweet reminder of a love that had once been, and perhaps, just perhaps, the promise of a second chance.

The two had found themselves in a different room and they had finally decided to talk about that faithful night. 

"Y/n," he whispered, the sound of his voice barely carrying the weight of his sorrow. "I don't know where to start, but I need to tell you something. Something that's been eating away at me since it happened."

Y/n looked up, her eyes filled with a mix of confusion and pain. She had noticed the change in him, the way he had become distant, the lies that had started to pile up. The room grew quieter as she braced herself for what was to come.

"I cheated on you," Theodor said, the words escaping his mouth like a confession from the depths of his soul. "And I am so, so sorry. It was the biggest mistake of my life, and I regret it with every fiber of my being."

Theodor took a deep, trembling breath. "I know I have no right to ask for your forgiveness, but I can't bear the thought of losing you. I've been a coward, hiding behind excuses and deceit. I didn't deserve you, and I definitely didn't deserve your trust. But if you can find it in your heart to give me another chance, I swear, I will spend the rest of my days making it up to you."

"I understand if you can't forgive me," he continued, his voice cracking. "But I need you to know that I love you more than anything. And I will do whatever it takes to prove that I can be the man you deserve."

Tears filled his eyes, spilling over his cheeks as he held her gaze. The weight of his guilt was palpable, hanging in the air like a thick fog.

Y/n stared at him for what felt like an eternity before finally speaking. "Theodor, I… I don't know what to say." Her voice was a mere whisper, raw with emotion. "This hurts more than anything I've ever felt."

Theodor nodded, his head bowed in defeat. "I know it does. And I don't expect you to forgive me overnight. But I will work every day to earn back your trust, to show you that I am worthy of your love."

He paused, taking in the sight of her, the woman he had hurt so deeply. "I'm sorry," he murmured again. "I'm sorry for the pain I've caused you. For the doubt I've planted in your heart. For the trust I've shattered."

"It'll take time, but we can get there again," Y/n looked into his eyes and with a small smile, "I've never been able to say no to you Theo."

[yandere-kokeshi]

🧩Hello!! I saw your request were open, I was wondering if I could request yoriichi with blind!reader? Sorry if that’s not much to go off of.

🧩 anyways have a nice day/night :) love your writing

Warning: Yandere behavior, talks about service dogs, and stalking(?). There's also grammer mistakes, sorry!

Authors note: no need to be sorry! I always love a challenge; I did try to do my research so please excuse me if I made any mistakes. I also wanna say, please specify the gender next time. Have an amazing evening, stay hydrated darling 💕

Yoriichi will do a lot of research based on your disability, wanting to know everything and to see if he can do anything to help.

He does know that you don't need his help most of the time as you've lived with this for most of your life, but that doesn't mean he worries. Yoriichi will try his best to be there to support you, whether that's allowing you to grab his hand, wrap your arm around him, or have him carry you; he's willing to do it so you can see he's there to support you.

He allows you to feel his face, wanting you to imagine what he looks like; he loves seeing you smile or snicker whenever he grabs your hand, kissing your wrist when you caress his cheek.

This also goes along the lines of him describing the scenery around you two: telling you about the birds that fly above, how the trees sway in the slightest breeze, what the children are giggling about, and the shared home of yours.

Speaking of your home, Yoriichi makes sure nothing is in your way of walking: putting away his katana, any objects that may be lying on the floor, and making sure to place certain carpet textures that tells you what's infront of you.

As the gentleman he is, he tries his best to not hover. Yoriichi will allow you to do your own thing, at your own pace, and time; watching you figure it out before asking him for help. Rarely, does he act or take over the activity your doing, wanting you to ask for him rather him abruptly taking over and potentially ruining it.

However, Yoriichi does alert you about your whereabouts when your around others: someone infront of you randomly stopping, a cat meowing and trotting towards you, a child running beside you, or him asking permission to guide you somewhere else for safer distances.

Guiding is something that he normally does, wanting you to wrap your fingers around the palm of his hand or have an elbow around his as a way to keep closure. This also means he guides you to the bathroom, kitchen, living room, and bedroom; Yoriichi also stands close to the bathroom, making sure nothing happens to you.

A few of his favorite activities with you is him reading books to you late at night, huddled with each other and resting by a heater or walking in the garden; watching you touch and smell the plants that are near by.

When he finds out that animals tend to help with blindness, he will get a dog; specifically a trained dog to help you fetch and get things for you when he's not there.

Yoriichi will heavly compliment you when you feel bad or insecure. He hates seeing you upset and comforts you whenever your frustrated or upset.

Even though he feels awful for it, he likes how to you depend on him for certain things; it makes him feel useful and hopeful that you'll ask for more help in the future.

—

Check out my masterlist for more content!

Thank you so much for requesting, stay well!!

[katieb96]

What if Penelope had gone with the boys to Romney Hall?

A/N: Hi! I’ve never written anything before, but I couldn’t get this idea out of my head. If you happen upon this, thanks for reading! Also, if other versions of this story exist, I want to read them! So please tag me if you write them, or shout out other writers in the comments so I can hype them up!

As he nears unconsciousness, the Viscount Bridgerton pinning him to the wall of his dining room by his throat, Sir Phillip Crane wonders if Eloise will stay to care for the children after he’s gone, when suddenly…

“BRIDGERTONS!” A new voice rings out through the hall, and the siblings freeze, eyes wide. “Penelope?” He believes he hears Eloise whisper in disbelief. Phillip blinks through the haze of his blurred vision to catch a glimpse of the savior who had caused the viscount to loosen the grip on his neck.

He must be more oxygen-deprived than he had realized, because he is having a hard time believing that the small, soft, redheaded woman standing in the doorway could be the one striking such fear into all five Bridgertons.

“Have you all lost your minds completely?” The tiny terror bellows, planting her fists on her hips. “Anthony, unhand the man at once. Eloise, get off of your brother’s back this instant. And you two,” her commanding glare turns on the men who had kept their distance, “Were you just going to stand there gawking like schoolboys while your brothers brutalized this man in his own home?”

The older of the chastised schoolboys approaches the crimson angel, warily, but protectively. “Pen, darling,” he coos, eyes pleading, as he reaches her side, “we agreed that you would stay in the carriage until we knew it was safe.” The woman, who Phillip deduced must be his wife, eyes him reproachfully before replying, “And that would have been a fine plan if you lot hadn’t left the singular family braincell in there with me!”

The young lady, ‘Penelope’ he reminds himself, takes a deep, cleansing breath, and sets her eyes on Phillip, softening significantly. “Hello, Sir Phillip,“ she smiles sweetly, “I sincerely apologize for my husband and his brothers. They tend to take leave of their senses when they suspect one they love to be in danger. Especially when that one flees London without a word in the middle of a ball, forcing her best friend to ransack her bedchamber in search of any clue as to her whereabouts or safety while the rest of the family comforts their panicking mother.” Her unamused gaze had turned toward Eloise, wringing her hands and avoiding Penelope’s stare.

For a second, Phillip thinks he might have an ally in this fight. But then he sees the instant Penelope notices Eloise’s black eye. Oh, he’s a dead man.

He watches her posture stiffen, eyes momentarily darkening with quiet fury. She regains her composure remarkably quickly and turns back to him with the calm, powerful expression of a woman who knows she holds his life in her hands. This expression seems far too at home on her kind face, and Phillip wonders how many men she has destroyed in her few years.

Her eyes do not leave Phillip as she says, “I suggest you gentlemen return to dinner while Eloise and I assist each other in freshening up. It has been a long day for all of us.” Phillip, he is an educated man, after all, sees this for what it actually means, “I have decided to spare you. For now.” Oh, she is very good.

“Please,” Phillip rasps, his voice just now returning to him, “ask the housekeeper for anything you may require.” The terrifying woman gives him a small smile and a nod before turning to Eloise. “Shall we?” Eloise nods sheepishly and begins walking toward the hall, Penelope following behind.

Before she exits, Mrs. Bridgerton turns toward her husband and brothers-in-law. “We shall return shortly,” she says with a smile, though everyone can see the warning in her eyes. There will be consequences if they do not play nice while she is gone.

The youngest man turns toward Mrs. Bridgerton’s husband, exasperated, “You just had to bring her, didn’t you Colin?”

Mr. Penelope Bridgerton puffs his chest, “Greggy, if you are ever fortunate enough to have a wife as… clever as mine,” the unabashed desire in his voice making the rest of them quite uncomfortable, “just try convincing her that she must not only be separated from her husband of only a few weeks but also entrust the safety of her dearest friend and sister to said husband and his idiot brothers.” The viscount scoffs at this.

“As if you even tried to fight her,” the brother Eloise had tackled now teases with a crooked smile. The goddess’ humble servant husband simply shrugs. “Well, she can be very… convincing,” he says, grinning wickedly as he sits down to dig into the bowl of soup he had somehow acquired amongst the chaos.

‘Bloody hell,’ Phillip thinks to himself, ‘what have I gotten myself into?’

[sohannabarberaesque]

Postcards from Snagglepuss

So how did the storytelling around the bonfire go?

As mentioned previously, reader, yours truly and companions of Crazy Claws decided to have a bonfire on a recent cool evening at CC's Lake Delton retreat, drinking on hot mulled apple cider, staying warm--and swapping a few stories. Nothing of the horror sort, know, because with Scooby-Doo getting hackneyed (or so it must seem), we didn't want to muddy the waters seriously.

As well as spoil things with some of the better moments of autumn, Thanksgiving in particular, coming along as well.

(Oh, and did I mention my winter diving vacay with Peter Potamus and His Magic Divers somewhere in the Caribbean?)

At any rate, think of our bonfire conversation as a "bull session" of sorts in the face of a misty autumn's evening, just letting ourselves be ourselves story-wise. And while Crazy Claws really sent us laughing with his pun-driven tales of past romance as went nowhere, yours truly matching such with all the attempts with Lila and the odd run-in with Betty Makaska ... followed by Pixie and Dixie taking things close to off-tangent with their plantings of genetically-modified catnip to give Jinksie disincentive to chase "those meeces" ... perhaps some of the weirdest tales had to come from Touché Turtle, who (as Dum-Dum explained it once) can tend to take things a little too far, and "probably to attract attention," naturally enough.

And perhaps the finest specimen Touché offered was when he was walking casually down the street with Dum-Dum in some seedy neighbourhood, and, noticing a couple of children in distressing circumstances playing outside, was led inside by a girl who could not have been younger than nine years of age ... and for some reason, Touché's bent-tip foil managed to pick through the lock of what turned out being something of a Chamber of Horrors in the form of a rather vile, smelly, unkempt even, bedroom which had no less than six children sharing same. Dum-Dum and Touché led the victims out, pretty much all of them wearing filthy rags, and Dum-Dum arranged for the police to take the children over to the local shelter.

And as it emerged, Touché revealed a "tip of the iceberg" scenario: That particular house they entered was found to be nothing less than a sheer House of Horrors, especially with such adult figures otherwise supposed to be in charge out for some reason and basically leaving the kids in charge. Yet Touché and Dum-Dum were somehow modest about "doing what they had to do," for it emerged later that such was nothing less than an ur-studio for child pornography, and on The Dark Net even ... and were those behind the setup ballistic(!!) when they found "their darlings" removed from the house and the premises raided and plundered, not to mention invoking Ayn Rand!!

(Fortunately, Touché and Dum-Dum were at the offices of Child Protective Services to assist in the enquiries and give details, and soon afterward asked to leave town "to avoid possible reprisals." Followed by a few days somewhere in the Otter Tail Lakes region.)

Touching, I had to acknowledge ... yet I had to wonder how it was possible for Touché Turtle to use the bent tip of his foil as a lock pick.

"You just pick up on these things somewhere," Touché was quick to add.

*************

@warnerbrosentertainment @hanna-barbera-land @railguner34 @jellystone-enjoyer @archive-archives @themineralyoucrave @thebigdingle @princessgalaxy505 @thylordshipofbutts @screamingtoosoftly @warnerbros-blog1 @theweekenddigest @indigo-corvus @ultrakeencollectionbreadfan @warnerbrosent-blog

[forthesanityofstorytellers]

15 Questions!

Thanks for the tag @bloodlessheirbyjacques ! Took me a minute to figure out which OC I should do. Did one for Becks and Rod already...so maybe it's time for Jules 😁😁

(might've had to strap her down for this, she hates these kinds of things but I did it anyway and she likes to kidnap the narrative so it's only fair)

1. Are you named after anyone?

Well dear. My home-name is a combination of my father and mother's names. But I didn't fancy it, so the name I chose for myself is simply what I liked.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Aha. I don't cry.

3. Do you have kids?

No. I don't do children. They tend to need things like care and love and support. Those sorts of things. I do know a few, however. Both actual children and those that behave as such.

4. Do you use sarcasm?

*smiles*

5. What's the first thing you notice about people?

Whether or not they can be of use to me, I suppose. Most other things are irrelevant.

6. What's your eye colour?

Black.

7. Scary movies or happy endings

Neither. I don't scare and I abhor entertainment that lies.

8. Any special talents?

Twisting twits around my fingers. Destroying that which stands in my way. Getting what I want. Do those count, my darling?

9. Where were you born?

On a plant far away. In a place I long to get back to, and will one day. Even if I have to crack yours open to do so.

10. What are your hobbies?

Does destroying Keeper buildings count? Or perhaps it's hunting down the next steps. I do a fair amount of drinking, despite the fact that I don't need to consume liquids to sustain myself. I do enjoy that when I'm not on a quest.

11. Do you have any pets?

Aha. I have a little imp that I kept on a tight leash once. He got away.

12. What sports do you play/ have played?

I've hunted before. Turned manipulation into a sport. Does that count?

13. How tall are you?

Probably somewhere around...*vaguely waves hand* six foot? We can change our size and shape when we want and need, so height isn't really a static idea, unlike you...single-shaped creatures. But I do like being around the six-foot mark.

14. Favourite subject in school?

We didn't have school. We absorb information from the planet core or, in the case of those of us stuck here on Terra, from computer and technological sources. But, if you must know, I did enjoy absorbing information about various Terran dances.

15. Dream Job?

...Job? What is it with you Terrans and your preoccupation with occupation? I simply live, darling, and I enjoy doing it. Occasionally I'll hunt a bounty or investigate something, but it is usually in trade or bargain. I can be convinced to do certain tasks in exchange for currency, but I tend to save that as a last resort.

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No pressure tagging! @concealeddarkness13 @kittensartswriting @mjjune

[satorisoup]

⌗ 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐁 ⁝ ( ᰔ )

— kento nanami

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ﾉ fluff + sfw. neighbor! nanami. brief mentions of sickness. mentions of baby bumps. petnames ( my love, darling ). mentions of children.

𝐖𝐂 ﾉ 1.9k

you can recall the feeling you had just a few months ago, unfamiliarity that bubbled in your gut and gushed out of the seams. moving to a new home was stressful, and the loneliness that could occur was fearsome.

the small but comfortable house that you now owned definitely needed some fixing when you had first arrived, the paint chipped and floors creaky at the time. making it your own was a job for many, but you managed to do it all by yourself. your proudest accomplishment being the beautiful garden that took up your spacious backyard, colorful and bright with the flowerets that scattered across the tall grass. every day without fail, you cared for your garden like a mother to a child, taking your time to nourish it with water and dense soil.

today was no different, as you stood outside in the beaming light. your sundress brushed to the floor beneath you, hair braided out of your face as you tended to the newest addition to your ever expanding eden. the seedlings you had were placed ever so carefully, each having their own special spot.

“ zinnia’s ? ”

you’re rather startled by the sudden voice, falling back from your squatting position with a thud, and your head whips up to the culprit of the question.

a man stands as he looks to you, golden locks neatly in place as he peers over the short wooden picket fence that seperates you two. his eyes widen ever so slightly, but you’re sure not to miss it as you stare intently.

“ im sorry. i didn’t mean to startle you, miss. ”

if it weren’t for the kind, sultry tone in his voice and the… handsome face he displayed, you probably would’ve yelled out a curse by now. but you have better judgment than that, lifting yourself off of your tailbone to sit upright.

“ it’s alright. yes, um… they’re zinnia’s ”

you notice his face soften when he realizes you weren’t too startled, relieved that he hadn’t given you a heart attack or gotten chewed out.

“ ah, those bloom nicely this time of year. ” he notes, hand now outstretched over the fence posts in greeting.

“ kento nanami. your neighbor. nice to meet you. ”

since that day, you’ve seen nanami on the other side of that fence almost every time you watered your plants. he was very kind, and seemed to have quite the interest in your garden.

———

it’s another spring day, and the birds seem to be enjoying the sunlight as they chirp from the trees with their tunes, and you’re of course in your garden. the metal watering can sprinkles onto the newest blooms and growing blossoms, dew drops collecting on the petals.

yet again, nanami was in his yard, half of his body standing tall over the wooden pickets as he asks you a question that you’ve never had the pleasure of answering before.

“ which one is your favorite flower ? ”

the watering can stops it’s stream as you look to him, laughing lightly at the question.

“ i don’t actually have my favorite flower in my garden. ”

nanami’s brow furrows, “ oh ? why not ? ”

“ i suppose i just don’t have a green thumb when it comes to them. i’ve tried, but i just haven’t been able to plant them right. ” you admit, setting the watering can down onto a patch of clovers as you stand to his eye level.

“ i see. well, what are they ? ” he asks again.

“ oh, tulips. they’ve always been my favorite. ”

———

when you had gotten the call that your grandmother was in the hospital, you wanted to leave your home right away. she had fallen a bit ill, and you always had the worst of worries. you didn’t know how long you would be gone, or what could happen if you didn’t leave soon. but what you did know was that your garden needed watering and care, and you wouldn’t be there to do it.

when you had seen nanami in his yard as usual, you rather frantically ran through the stone walkway to your side of the fence, bag swinging at your side and a fresh bouquet held tightly in your hand.

“ mister nanami ! ” was what you had yelled, coming to a stop at the wooden barrier, braid swinging to the side of your shoulder.

“ oh, hello. are you alright ? ”

you think to yourself for just a moment about the outcomes of your question, and you knew it was quite late notice, but he was your last and only resort.

“ i have an emergency… im very sorry to ask you, but would you mind watering my garden while im gone ? if you’re unable to— ”

“ — of course. that’s alright with me. ”

you’re almost stunned by the sudden agreement, not sure why you were expecting him to say no. you awkwardly nod your head, hand digging into your bag to fish out your house key.

“ thank you, thank you so much ! i can’t thank you enough. i should return soon… the watering can is by the door, and if you could water the poppies more frequently, oh ! and the roses need to be— ”

“— i know. i’ve got it covered. be safe, please. ” nanami again stops you before you’re able to continue rambling, soft smile adorning his face.

your hands briefly touch, only for a moment, as you hand him the polished key to your home. you smile and wave one more time to the man before you, eternally grateful for his immense favor to you.

———

nanami had watched you work in your garden more times than he could count. he was observant, and knew your routine from start to finish. he always took the time to note the amounts of water you trickled onto the petals, the soft pats you gave to the soil as if you were tucking a child into bed, the care you took when planting something as small as a seedling. he would admire you, all while you two shared simple yet meaningful conversations.

he knew exactly what to do. he knew to water your orange poppies a bit more thoroughly, and to only sprinkle the droplets on the marigolds. he made sure to pat the soil of your newest seeds, daffodils. he wouldn’t forget to splash the daisies, or pot the lilies.

but nanami knew there was something missing in your garden, and he couldn’t forsake the opportunity.

———

when you had arrived back home almost a week later, nanami was no where to be found. your house key laid under your doormat neatly and hidden from view. you knew you had to thank him somehow for the kind deed, but for now, you had to check on one thing first. that being your beloved, sacred garden.

the first thing you noticed as you stepped out into the clovered yard was the stepping stones, neatly hosed down and free of dirt and debris. cleaner than you had ever seen them.

the second thing you saw was the lively blooms of your precious daffodils, slowly making their way out of the soil as they protruded from the ground in little sprouts.

the third, your garden was in absolutely perfect condition, if not better than when you had left. the blossoms from all of your flowers were lively and brighter, happy and hydrated. bee’s were buzzing happily in the pollen, and monarchs had taken a liking to your butterfly bush.

the final thing you noticed was impossible to miss, and you could feel your heart leap from your chest as you looked onward to the once empty spot in awe.

tulips had made an appearance into your garden, standing tall in precious pinks along the side of your fence.

———

you stand in your garden years later now, prospering petals shining brighter than ever before. tulips still line the perimeter of the fence posts, pretty in bulbs of a soft pink.

nanami watches you from the door to your enchanted eden now, admiring your soft, gentle hands that fluff up the bushes and swipe droplets from petals.

you’re in your sundress that now rises a bit above your feet, flowing long and graceful. the bump under your dress doesn’t go unseen, and your skin glows under the soft light that basks down onto you.

“ kento ! ” you call for him, foot shifting from the green grass to beckon him over.

nanami walks over to you, following the same stone path that has been etched into the ground over the time that has passed.

“ my love ? ” he answers, hand traveling from the small of your back with tender touches to wrap around your bump, hand resting just above your belly button.

you both now stand together on one side of the wooden picket fence that once separated you two, vines now beginning to grow up and through the small cracks. you look to him with the small fond smile that you had given him many times before.

“ do you think we could plant white tulips next ? ”

nanami smiles at you as he ponders your question, already knowing the answer.

“ anything for you, darling. ”

———

“ sweetheart ! don’t run or you’ll trip… ”

nanami warns. he sits on the small gingham blanket that covers the trefoil clovers, cookies and fruit plated on the woven picnic basket.

he watched your young daughter run through your garden, giggles erupting from her mouth with each barefoot step she took. her two braids swung wildly in the wind, ruffly dress swaying by her toes.

her laughs seem to be contagious as he watches you giggle too, smile bright and eyes squinted shut as your daughter runs into your legs, arms wrapping around them in a hug.

he sees his two darling girls spin and sway in dances under the warm sun, before his daughter comes running towards him. her arms are open wide, jumping onto him as he almost falls back with a small surprised “ umph !— ”

she looks to him with her babytoothed grin, and settles as you walk over to sit on the shared blanket too.

“ daddy ? ” is what your daughter says, shy smile as her arms come up from her sides with flowers grasped in her tiny hands. “ please ? ” is what she follows up with, and he already knows what your daughter is asking.

and soon enough, your daughters messy, sunkissed braids are littered with daisies, white and yellow sprinkled into the twisted strands.

“ kento ? ” he hears you call for him from beside your daughter, watching as your hand holds the same flowers that your daughter did. “ please ? ” you repeat the same words your child had asked moments before.

now, the two of you have your braids decorated from his own hands, wild and free as he watched you two continue to dance in your beloved garden.

nanami knew since the moment he had stepped foot into his bland yard years ago and locked eyes with your flowing yellow sundress, he wouldn’t be able to deny the beauty that stood in the backyard, gentle in the spring sun.

© satorisoup ── do not copy, repost, plagiarize, or feed any of my work into ai 🍓

[rikasfundingassociates]

[Found Chatlog] The Actor.

This interview originally took place on February 10th, 2023.

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As always, the screen quickly illuminates, revealing quite the sight to you. The room shown is one decorated in various plants that tangle themselves all around, yet despite that, don't make the scenery appear cluttered or messy. A vanity mirror rests in the center and the light from the large window behind it illuminates the room in a bright, natural glow. A soft mix of piano and lofi plays in the background, encapsulating the peaceful atmosphere that encompasses the entirety of the room. A slim figure dances alone by themself to the music, soft laughter falling from their lips. Their clothes are well put together in an upcycled amalgamation that feels both comfortable and stylish.

They do a small spin, turning around to finally face you. When they notice you finally, a small gasp sounds from their throat. A hand raises to their lips, brushing over them as they turn up in a joyous smile.

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[ACTOR]: oh my gosh !!! I didnt even see you come in- Hi there!!

hello actor! how are you

i'm doing great !!! <3 its been such a beautiful day today, the plants love it

Plants? :0

yes!! have all sorts... I got into taking care of them when I started living on my own.

pronouns

she/they!! would like it if you use both <3

we should kiss

Oh my... how forward! very cute ^^ i'm flattered

what things do you like to do

first date ?! oh how endearing. as for things I like to do... stargazing and designing clothing...

what genre of movies do you usually act in?

acting-? Oh! i'm sorry. I don't actually act

holds your hand

do you have any kins and if so who’s the highest

kins...? i think i've heard [HACKER] talk about those..? i'm not completely sure what that is though^^

what flowers do you want at our wedding

flowers... i've always had a fondness for lillies, I suppose

based as always my dear

based! Oh I know that one... thank you very much, darling <3

whats your job then?

welll, I used to model!!! butt I tend to just stick to designing clothes... nothing big but i've still retained a lot of my follow base

is there anything you have been enjoying recently

,,,is it silly of me to say cartoons? I have been really enjoying a few series lately

oh, nicee! what type of cartoons? puppy and cat? insider job? etc?

I enjoy cartoons that are more fitting for "children" ,, like the owl house..

is there any nickname we can? or can we make something up like daisy?

A nickname..? i guess... Actor works, but given what I said thats a bit dishonest, right? So you may call me what you like ^^

how do you like your work ?? does it ever get stressful?

it would be very dishonest to say no ^^ It does, sometimes, but i think all things do at a point. sometimes I just have bad days I suppose. Although I've been much happier after moving away from modelling. the work itself is quite nice... I get to help people feel pretty

Actor, who do you like best out of your group? Like hacker or the gamer? Any you’d call your bff of sorts?

It's hard to pick a favorite of friends, love them all... but best friend? ...Maybe [HEIR] ... we have some history together ^^ at least in my eyes

Do you kiss girls

I'm not kissing any at the moment... but yes, i kiss them^^ pretty exclusively, too

Do you have a favourite place to go to? Somewhere where you feel super comfortable or just like the things available there?

hm... is it plain to say I like the park? It's very calming to sit around the greenery...

What about outside whatever country you live? Like your go-to fav vacation spot? Do you like visiting the parks there too :)?

i haven't travelled in some time, but I enjoyed rome while I was there... parks aside, the architecture was beautiful..

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Messages beyond this point were lost. Transcript provided by [UNKNOWN].

[ask-smutty-lucifer]

Gabriel looks up at you for a moment and tilts his head. He then looks to Michael to make the decision. Apparently, Michael was the more dominant between the two. You had read about alpha angels when you first got Michael. Angels tended to have their own hierarchy system to establish pecking order, although most people who studied angels couldn’t pinpoint the exact criteria.

Michael looked up at you and nodded as he finished, indicating he wished to go for a walk. He didn’t seem to like how Cal smelled. The few times he had met Cal he had bowed up, trying to look more intimidating.

“Okay, let me go get the harnesses.” I say, standing up again and going to fetch Michael’s and his spare one to be used for Gabriel, giving them both lots of belly rubs as I buckle them up before leading them out the door, my eye twitching when I see the same Omega from yesterday out in the parking lot again. I was going to have a serious talk with their owner. The poor thing was out here and about to go into heat! It was irresponsible! The poor thing needed her nest!

||

Meanwhile, back in our world, Nebriel whistles to himself as he strolls through Hell, glad to have the chance to be up and about as he makes his way to Azazel’s office to check on how the progress with the special children was going. After all, if he was gonna take over everything, he needed an army. And what better army than the one Azazel had started building so long ago? So he, under the guise of being me, had ordered Azazel to gather up his children, to train them. Azazel was confused of course but simply shrugged and followed his orders, gathering all that remained of his children and bringing them to Hell to be trained.

As he reaches Azazel’s office, he paused outside the door, hearing faint sobs and a muffled smacking noise. Curious, he tilts his head.

“I’m sorry.” A voice sobs, a girl by the sound of it. Nebriel was certain he recognized it from the few times he visited the training grounds. This was one of the failing ones, wasn’t it? A girl freshly turned 21 who kept tripping over herself and being knocked down by even those younger than her. One who usually kept to herself, huddled up alone in some corner. To be honest, he was surprised that she hadn’t been culled yet. Azazel had killed those stronger then her, though they were still weaklings, for a lot less. But, Azazel seemed almost fond of her, in his own twisted little way. And if Azazel wanted her than Nebriel was content to let him have her. Azazel was always one of our most loyal and steadfast soldiers and friends. Azazel could say he wanted to put a vacation house on the moon and Nebriel would have it be made. As Long as Azazel stayed the same, never strayed or disobeyed, he could have whatever he liked.

“Nuh uh, say it properly, Darling.” He heard Azazel purr, voice dripping with amusement and what was almost definitely lust, followed by a particularly loud smack and a yelp.

“I’m sorry, Daddy!” She corrected with another sob and Nebriel slowly pushed the door open, eyebrow quirked as he leans against the frame, arms crossed over his chest. The girl was bent over Azazel’s lap as he sat in his desk chair, her pants and panties around her ankles as he tanned her ass as red as her tear stained face, one of his legs locked over the back of her knees as his free hand remained planted in the middle of her back to keep her still. If Nebriel looked closely enough he was pretty sure he could see a red gemmed butt plug snug between her cheeks.

“Having fun, Azazel?” Nebriel asks with a little chuckle, watching the girl jerk and whimper at the sudden voice, likely embarrassed at being caught in such a position.