#the comfiest place on the earth

[lonesomedotmp3]

every time I take off my glasses while I'm on the sofa it's so over for me. not beating the just like my dad but a lesbian allegations

[cetoddle-archive]

category 10 cute girl moment : i have a tummy ache and desperately just wanna curl up and and lean against somebody but instead i have to be at WORK

[leafyeyes417]

Danny was tired. Tucker and Sam had drifted away over the duration of high school. The ghost attacks and danger had been the main factor that started the dissipation of their friendship. Jazz had left for college a while ago leaving him to deal with his parents alone. He had eventually created his own secret base and left the house permanently even if it was technically illegal at 16. No one noticed since he still went to school.

Including being a teen hero who wasn’t appreciated in Amity just was the icing on the cake. After receiving approval from clockwork and mastering his portal abilities, he closed the portal down. It wasn’t easy to do but he made sure everyone was out of the blast range when it shut down. The Fenton house was gone but it hadn’t been home for quite some time.

It was because he was so tired that he was where he was. Drifting out of Earth’s atmosphere, Danny let himself luxuriate in the feeling of space. It made his core hum pleasantly. He moved to a good spot still in Earth’s gravity and curled up and just let himself drift along in a haze. He toned down his glow and his body started to slowly fade into the space around him till he was practically invisible.

He floated in this haze for probably a week, slowly recuperating and feeling himself slowly change. There was no one to miss him for any length of time and he wasn’t worried about his human life at all. Honestly he probably would have drifted longer but something woke him up. Some guy yelling about conquering Earth or something.

Annoyed at being woken up by a fruitloop Danny allowed his form to grow with the power of space he collected and snarled out a “Oy fruitloop! I was woken up because of you! Shut up already!” and smacked him into the sun with a giant hand. Turning his ire on the army with the fruitloop he quickly sent them flying with a blast of power. It would take them many years to gather up again with how hard he sent them flying.

Huffing, he turned and glanced at the group of people left. Shrinking down he spoke and gestures wildly. “I was taking the best nap of my afterlife and was woken up by those pests. You gotta better place I can nap?”

Luckily someone was quick to let him know they had a place. He was guided to a space station soon after and was soon sleeping on the comfiest bed ever.

[dreamsinmoonlight]

May I lay my head on Adams lap?

(I should be asleep and DEFINITELY should do the three other asks but I like me some stupid fluff with my stupid man so sure, have this before I fall unconscious because it's like almost midnight here)

Adam let out a snort as you plopped down next to him and opened his mouth to say something he would swear was witty or cool, because he was Adam the Dick Master and he was entirely both of those things. But his train of thought was derailed most effectively as you moved sideways and he suddenly found your head resting in his lap.

He was, for once in existence, speechless and just stared at you for a good few moments with wide eyes, as if trying to figure out what was going on. Finally, and with far more deliberation than that brain of his was really normally capable of, he spoke carefully, "Babe? You alright?"

"Shut up and be my pillow," you mumbled, your eyes closed. God he could be noisy and you just wanted to rest.

God knew when He made Adam He'd made the comfiest living pillow. The robe was a nice plus, it was soft and silky, but honestly you were usually just as happy to just lay your head straight into those squishy thighs. He wasn't bony in any way whatsoever, a plus in your book, and he was usually pretty warm on top of that. All together 10/10, would recommend as a cushion if you happened to have a long day or just wanted a good nap.

You didn't need to look up to know he was pouting; he hated it when you told him to shut up but after multiple discussions about the fact you meant it with love and not contempt, he had eventually gotten that. But he still pouted, because he was still Adam. You listened to him grumble and you thought up caught some choice words but whatever they were were pointless and quickly lost.

He started playing with your hair after all and that wasn't playing fair. Your head in your favorite lap, your idiot favorite angel playing with your hair? It was a combination you were absolutely powerless against and he knew it damnit. That was probably the point, his little revenge against you.

"Fine fine, I'll be your pillow, bitch, but you better be ready for payback later." That wasn't much of a threat; Adam's idea of "payback" when it came to you usually came down to doing the things God put him on Earth to do in the first place.

You mumbled but couldn't do much more than that. It was just too much. You nodded off and Heaven's most annoying angel watched you with a smile that could only be described as "how the hell did Adam learn to look soft".

Answer: that's what being wanted and loved does to someone. Yes even him.

[pixlokita]

Have you considered the winged beans being sleepy together? Just like, Micheal surrounding the two with his big bro wings, Gregory sprawled out and floppy, and Evan's lil baby wings fluttering while he dreams

Just a thought

-coe-robotics-rnd-division

Comfiest place on earth

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Jasper taking gn! reader out on a nature walk

Since this request isn't too detailed I'm just gonna do this as a hc <:

Jasper Taking You On a Nature Walk HC

Pairing: Jasper Hale/Whitlock x Human!GN!Reader

Warnings: mc much prefers to be inside, me personally i like a nice hike, though i get hives if it's too hot 😬, vampires have to miss walking in daylight tho, and since jasper is a former southern cowboy i bet he misses the warmth of it

Jasper taking his human partner on a nature walk

At first you grumble, wanting nothing more than to spend the day inside. You hated outside activities anyway. You and nature just didn't agree with one another

But he promises you it'll be fun. You haven't gone on one of his nature walks. It sounds promising so you easily relent, surprised by his odd request. He never asked of these kinds of things from you. He liked that you didn't like going out in public and preferred his/his family's company. It worked out for everyone. If he was going out of his way to ask this, then it was probably important to him.

Jasper keeps in mind your humanness and though Forks doesn't get a lot of sun, he's still worried about you receiving a sunburn. He lovingly slathers your face and arms in sunscreen.

As he recommended, you found your comfiest pair of shoes and threw on breathable shorts paired with a tank top.

"I promise you, you're going to have fun." He kisses the tip of your nose which still had a smear of sunscreen that hadn't quite been absorbed by your skin.

Thankfully his home was surrounded by a lush forrest ringing around the house so going to an actual trail wasn't a necessity. No witnesses to his prismatic skin. No extra worries to be added on this excursion.

You're not accustomed to the buzzing sound of bugs or the bumpy earth that was riddled with the crawling roots of trees that rise from above the dirt.

You weren't clumsy, not like Edward's human girl but you didn't possess very good balance. Jasper kept a guiding hand on your arm to make sure you didn't fall. You didn't anticipate how this nature walk was turning into an interesting girl scout lesson. He bends down to show you animal tracks that you hadn't even noticed prior. Shows you how moss only grows on the north facing side of a tree and how that can benefit you if you ever get lost.

"Do you plan on deserting me here?" You ask halfheartedly but Jasper solemnly looks at you with sad eyes that catch you by surprise.

"One day you may not have me close to you. You may have to rely on the safety of the forest to protect you." He murmurs.

What made up for the boring parts of the nature walk was spying the various wild life that cautiously poke their head out from their hiding places. Squirrels and wild rabbits darted in the opposite direction if you and Jasper got too close to their home.

Eventually you start to relax in the quietness of your walk. Jasper watches you with butterflies thumping along in his stomach as you gather wild flowers; commenting how Esme would love them. The position you're at allows specks of sunlight highlight your lovely features. He's reminded constantly how much he adores you. The others in his family didn't really appreciate walks like this. Couldn't fathom why Jasper enjoyed going out even though there was a risk of someone seeing him.

But he saw the world outside their house a miracle by nature's design. Even more so now that you were out there with him, taking in the glory of living things.

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Keep us warm forever

PAIRING || Boyfriend!Tony Stark x Girlfriend!Fem!Reader

WORDCOUNT || 1.4K

SUMMARY || Once a month, you're in absolute hell when your period comes knocking again. From nearly insufferable pain to being unable to move at all, you're going through the same rollercoaster every month, and with seemingly no end in sight. Luckily, you have a sweet boyfriend who's always happy to keep you company and take care of your every need - but most of all, he's happy to act like your personal heater each time.

RATING || Mature (M)

TAGS || Semi-canon compliant. Established relationship. Former sugar relationship.

WARNINGS || Multiple mentions of periods.

A/N || I desperately need some fluff, so I figured there's no better way than to do that with my favorite Sugar Daddy and the sweetest kitten. I want to give full credit and endless gratitude to @ccbsrmsf1 for giving me this idea and being there for me no matter what, and this story is a gift from me to you. I love you, bestie 🤍

A/N 2.0 || I opened my ask box for the Summer of Drabbles! Please don't hesitate to send in a few prompts, as they always brighten my day, and I enjoy working on those little stories while working on a few (new) series behind the scenes 👀🤍

Photo: @ccbsrmsf1 || All other graphics are made by @nicoline1998enilocin

Main Masterlist || Tony Stark Masterlist || AU Masterlist

From the moment you woke up this morning, you knew what kind of day it would be. Tears were streaming down your face, soft whimpers falling from your lips as you were curled into a ball, all to try and cope with the cramps you got. All of it leaves you completely unable to move.

Tony stirred awake next to you, hearing soft whimpers and cries before turning around, immediately being on full alert as he moved over to you. As he takes a look at your form - lying in the fetal position from the pain - and your flushed face from the tears, he knows exactly what to do.

"I'm here, Sugar. It's going to be okay," he whispers as he places a soft kiss on your temple, making you cry even harder. While you realistically know you will be fine, it doesn't feel like it right now, no matter how hard you try.

"I'll be right back, Sweetheart. I'm gonna run you a comfortable bath with some candles, and I'll make sure to have a warm towel and some of my comfiest clothes ready for you when you're done," he tells you then, and you sigh as the worst wave of pain passes.

"Okay," you croak out, and with one more kiss on your temple, Tony heads to the bathroom to run you the perfect bath. Over time, he has perfected it to a tee, and now you wouldn't want anything other than your favorite bath during the heaviest parts of your period.

As soon as Tony comes back with some painkillers and a tumbler of water, you happily take them to reduce the worst of your pain, your tears now having dried on your cheeks. While you still have an exhausted look on your face, your boyfriend still thinks you're the most beautiful woman to grace the face of the earth.

"Do you want me to help you get up, or do you think you can do it?" he asks as he's crouching on your side of the bed, his thumb softly caressing your cheek as he looks at you with an adoring look.

"Help, please," you groan. Tony nods before getting up himself. Once you've shed every layer of clothing, he gets you off the bed and into the bathtub, and he immediately throws your clothes in the washing machine together with the sheets.

Your period came rather unexpectedly this month, and even though you bled through everything and onto the bed, Tony doesn't bat an eye at it. Within no time, the entire sheets are replaced by clean ones, and he has laid out a pair of loose sweatpants and his hoodie, which will forever be your favorite thing to wear during your time of the month.

"How's my special girl doing?" Tony asks as he walks into the bathroom, and you open your eyes to look at your boyfriend. While you're still in pain, it's considerably less, and you smile up at him, warming his heart.

"Better, thank you. And I'm sorry for your sheets and everything; I thought I still had a few more days to go, but my calculations are a bit off apparently," you say in a small voice, and Tony gives you a reassuring smile as he crouches next to the tub.

"You don't have to worry about any of that, Sugar. The washing machine's going and will take care of it for us, so that's not something you should worry this little head of yours over," he tells you as his fingers carefully trail over your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"Do you want me to make some breakfast, or are you not hungry?"

"Yes, please. Can you make me my favorite?" you ask, and Tony nods before leaning in to kiss your cheek, making you smile at the feeling of his facial hair against your skin.

"Anything for you, Sugar. I love you." The twinkle in his eyes you love so much has the pain in your abdomen make way for butterflies, and his smile has your heart beating faster. He can make you feel better without even trying. Though it also doesn't hurt that you can have a look at the way his ass sways beautifully when he walks out of the bathroom and on his way to the kitchen.

Once Tony's almost finished making your breakfast—Moon sitting on the counter by his side, watching his every move—you walk into the large kitchen in Tony's sweatpants and hoodie, combined with a pair of fuzzy socks and your glasses, not wanting to bother with contact lenses today.

"Look who it is, Moon, it's Mommy!" Tony says as he spots you, and Moon immediately gets up before stretching, getting ready to give you all the cuddles and love you need today. He jumps into your arms, making you laugh heartily as he presses himself as close to you as possible.

"Good morning to you as well, Moon!" you say as you place a few kisses on his head, which are rewarded by loud purring.

"How're you feeling, Sugar?" Tony asks as he plates your breakfast, and you sigh.

"I'm doing okay. Still a bit cold, but I'm hoping that breakfast and some cuddles with both of you will clear that up as well," you tell your boyfriend as you sit down at the kitchen island, Moon still in your arms as you get comfortable.

"Hmm, that sounds like a challenge I'll happily accept," he says as he puts the plate in front of you, your favorite breakfast waiting to be eaten. You smile up at Tony and happily receive the kisses he has to offer you, and then it's time for some much-needed food to go into your belly and to crash on the couch afterward.

Now, that's exactly where you've found yourself. Tony lies on his back, you are on your side as your hand is splayed over his belly as you trace an abstract figure, and Moon is curled up on his arc reactor - his favorite place to nap. With the extra warmth, you're very comfortable, and Tony is, too. He's happy to spend the day like this instead of worrying about anything concerning Stark Industries or SHIELD.

"Tony?" you ask, your voice soft as you try not to wake up Moon.

"Hmm?" he hums in response, his face tilting down to meet your gaze. A small smile tugs at his lips as his gaze meets yours. His eyes sparkle with a hint of honey as the sun brightens his features, making him look even more angelic.

"I have been thinking about something and can't get it out of my head, so... here I go. Would you like to keep me and Moon warm forever? Like, you know, 'til death do us part?" you ask, and for a few moments, it's completely silent as the words sink in with Tony.

"Did you just... propose?" he asks, and you can feel the heat on your cheeks as he lifts his brow. A wide smile now dominates his expression.

"Y-yeah," you say with a chuckle, fully realizing what you did. You asked Tony to marry you in a way you'd never expected - you have thought about it, of course, but in all those fantasies, you never once pictured doing it while you were lying on the couch when you're in the heavy stages of your period.

"In that case, I will happily marry you, Sugar. Nothing would make me happier than to call you my wife. But-" he says, your brows raising as he waits momentarily.

"You deserve a proper proposal, Sugar. I will plan the most beautiful proposal anyone's ever seen, and the wedding will be everything you've dreamt of and more. But first, I want to lie here and snuggle with the two of you for a little longer before returning to reality," he says, and you're beaming up at him.

"And, of course, I will include our Angel, too. Ever since you saved this little guy, I knew he would become a big part of our lives, and having him included would make it the cherry on top," Tony says as he pets Moon, who opens his eyes briefly before sighing and returning to sleep.

"I would love nothing more, Tony. And I can't wait to call myself Mrs. Stark," you say, sealing your words with a loving kiss before settling against his side again, ready for some more much-needed sleep in the arms of your future husband.

[cutielando]

the british dust | g.r.

synopsis: in which you fall for the Brit's charms

my masterlist

Everyone says that British men have a special aura around them. Some might even say there is a thing called 'the British dust'.

You thought it was bullshit.

You never understood the hype around the British men. They were humans just like everyone else, but every single person you came across was of the opinion that they had something special.

Again, you thought that was absolute crap.

Until you met George freaking Russell.

♡♡♡♡♡

Getting a job in F1 has been your dream ever since you could remember. 

Your father had always been a fan of racing, watching them every single weekend and even attending a couple of Grands Prix over the years.

When you got a bit older, you started taking an interest in the sport, your father proving to be one hell of a coach who taught you everything there was to know about the sport, the teams, the drivers, the rules.

Going into college, your one true dream was still a job in the F1 industry. A journalist, perhaps, or even a PR manager. Hell, even a janitor would be okay with you as long as you got to go to Grands Prix and meet all of the drivers and see the action in real life every single time.

And, when the opportunity presented itself to become a PR manager at Mercedes, you didn't think twice about taking the job.

Only problem was, you were tasked with being George Russell's manager. The infamous 'British dust' guy.  

You didn't think he was that special. Yes, he was hot and one hell of a driver, but you didn't find anything special. He was just another British dude who you had to work with.

"Hello?" George's voice snapped you out of your daydreaming, making you look up at him where he stood in the doorstep of your office.

"Yes, hello. Come in" you stood up and shook his hand, which you found to be incredibly soft and warm, before clearing your throat and motioning for him to take a seat in front of you.

"You've already got an office, that's nice. I only have a small room which could even be classifies as a broom cupboard" he commented, smiling as he looked around your still unpacked and disorganized office.

You laughed and nodded your head, "Yeah, I heard about your rooms. Not the comfiest places on Earth to stay in, I imagine"

"They're the worst. I barely have the space to stretch my legs out and I need the space because I'm tall as a tree" he said, making you laugh out loud.

He was funny, you had to give him that. Unknown to you, he smiled when he heard you laugh, his heart swelling at the sound of your voice.

"I can imagine. Shall we get down to business then?" you asked once you'd finally calmed down.

"If we must, of course" he exhaled, giving you a subtle wink before leaning back and motioning for you to start speaking.

You went through your agenda for the day, explaining the schedule for the media days in the upcoming days and sorting out any issues he'd previously had.

By the end of your meeting, you had warmed up to the famous Brit, his energy and attitude making you feel comfortable and overall giddy on the inside.

"Do you think I'll win this weekend?" he asked as he stood up, making his way towards your door.

"I don't know, perhaps you will, perhaps you won't" you teased, shrugging your shoulders trying to be nonchalant.

"Wanna make a bet?" the twinkle in his eyes should've been a sign for you not to agree with him, but you found yourself nodding your head.

"Do tell"

"If I don't win, I'll grant you access to my media accounts for the rest of the season" he said.

"And if you win?"

"You go on a date with me" he bluntly said, making you freeze.

This would be highly unprofessional, going out with George even if it was for a bet, but something in you told you to say yes. 

"You've got yourself a deal, Mr. Russell"

What harm could a date do, right?

♡♡♡♡♡

Damn you, George.

He had actually done it.

He won the race.

You were proud of him, you really were. But the butterflies in your stomach freaking out over the fact that you now had to go on a date with George were sending nerves to every single cell in your body.

You took a moment before stepping out of the Mercedes garage to find George and get the media part covered.

"Congratulations!" you squealed once you met up with him, surprised when he enveloped you in his arms and lifted you off the ground, spinning you around.

"I did it because of you" he whispered as he sat you down, not letting go of you.

"Because of me?" you questioned, your eyebrows scrunching together.

"I couldn't pass up the opportunity to take you out, could I?" he teased, his breath hot on your neck under your ear.

Your body let out an involuntary shudder, which made George laugh and finally release you from the tight and long hug.

"You are one of a kind, George Russell" you commented, but a big smile couldn't be wiped off your face.

"What can I say, the British dust must really be a thing" he winked.

You rolled your eyes and pushed him towards the reporters waiting for interviews with the race winner.

Damn you, British dust.

Damn you, George Russell.

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[cientient]

my wr <3

its a cute little modern spaceship thingie

looks like this but w some differences and also the view is a lookalike of planet earth n theres galaxies seen in the distance

cute little cat wall on the side too with a circular window

air conditioner

FLUFFIEST COMFIEST BLANKET IVE EVER FELT IN MY LIFE

no one else is there (unless i manifest them to be there)

liquid dispenser that dispenses any drink i want

wall aquarium!!

theres a kitchen but my cabinets are full of food anyway so i dont need to cook

hammock near the cat wall

acrobatics rope thing where i can just swing around and chill in the air

hanging planet lamps

bookshelves (standing and in the walls)

simple modern bathroom

star lamp and projector

every instrument i want is in my wr

my wardrobe is mostly full of comfy and stylish clothes

my cat is named popcorn and is a calico >

theres also a tiny black kitty named comet but i can almost never find him cus he keeps running around and hiding in the shadows lmao

door leads to a small airlock thing (?) with windows to see the outside

and theres a gate with a circular pad or smth that you have to put your hand on

tapping the pad switches the floor (like the buttons of an elevator) and placing ur hand for 5 seconds opens it

floor 1 is the portal room

the portal room is rlly big and has portals on the side with names on the top

in the middle of the room is a big planet hologram and details of whatever dr i choose/details of cr (time, what my clone is doing, etc.)

the floor is entirely glass so i can see the bottom

theres windows at the sides too

floor 2 is the observatory. everything except the floor is glass

theres also a balcony i can go out to (scripted that i can breathe in space 🥰) and touch tiny comets/tiny stars that make me feel peaceful

^^ i was thinking of the floating lanterns in Tangled while scripting this

touching them also instantly manifests whatever i want in my wr

[lamemaster]

Songs of Heart- Fall

Pairing: Turgon x Reader x Fingon (hehe)

Genre: Dramamamama and Angsssst

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: Had you known better, you would have never looked his way. You would have shielded your eyes from his. Yet, despite the lament, you are certain that you would have done it. You would have betrayed yourself even with the foreknowledge of your destruction.

Fall | Winter | Spring | Summer | Epilogue

AN: Literally no one asked for this but I want to write a forbidden cliche fic. I want to write messed up yearning miserable meow meows. This one is to make Turukano the main character.

In the passing ages of the world, there is little that remains unchanging. Mountains that once stood unflinching have crumbled to dust, lands have drifted in the sea to form masses different from your times, trees have ceased to speak as they once did. Yet, in all this, your heart remains unchanging. It has, like an unrelenting rock, embedded itself into your soul. Anchoring you to the past that never intends to return.

Long ago, when the world was young and so were you, you fell in love. A stupid stubborn love that latched itself to you for eternity. Your love for Turukano.

Had you known better, you would have never looked his way. You would have shielded your eyes from his. Yet, despite the lament, you are certain that you would have done it. You would have betrayed yourself even with the foreknowledge of your destruction.

You have always known Turukano. He was glued to your cousin, Findarato, from birth. It hadn’t been hard to form a friendship in the early days of your existence. Even your younger brother Ecthellion had grown fond of the little prince, who always insisted on being the king in all your house games. 

You have loved him from the earliest memories of your existence. It was inevitable to not love someone who seemed to possess the softest heart yet, very few words. A being who felt like the comfiest haven in the entire world surrounding you.

Your days that had started with a Turukano that barely reached your and Findarato’s shoulders ended with him towering over almost every elf in Valinor. Much to your annoyance your younger brother, Ecthellion followed the suit. 

It was a pleasant sunny morning when you were dazedly sprawled in your aunt Earwen’s beloved garden, next to a Findarato who was lost in the act of whistling with little sparrows. Your eyes were almost glazed over with the sluggish warmth that carried the scent of citrus flowers that bloomed on trees your aunt had once made you and your cousin plant. 

Your father had followed his elder sister Earwen's suit and wed a Noldo. A noblewoman of stature befitting of a prince. So it wasn't a surprise that you and Findarato were two peas in a pod. Accompanied by Turukano, who expanded the pod to three peas, followed by Ecthellion who followed your trio in every way possible.

“Do you think the sparrows came with this tongue or our people made it for them?” Findarato asked flipping to his side facing you from where he lay. “If they did, why could they not have taught trees the same tongue? Would be easier if everyone could communicate I am tired of translating this tree’s grudge against spikey nests." He sighed with a burden he himself had sought in the first place.

Blinking away the sleep in your eyes you tried to think about it. “Could have been someone like your uncle Curufinwe, who wanted to torment everyone with a thousand different dialects,” you yawned stretching your body into the cool grass, almost scaring away the butterfly that rested on your shoulder.

Findarato grumbled about your lacking sense of humor and returned to mitigate the argument between the tree and the sparrow. 

You remember the exact moment when you turned your head to look in the direction that the vibration of his steps rang under the Earth that your head rested on. You raised your head to rest on your arms as you saw him rush in.

But the lazy smile that had etched itself on your face froze at the look in his eyes. How did you know? Turukano’s eyes held a horrified expression, his serene poised face was crumpled by a frown, however, what gave away were his eyes. Full of unshed tears and desperation you did not understand.

It would take you years to realize what that expression was. It was grief. Mourning as if someone had died. You did not possess that knowledge during your days of peace.

Perhaps someone did. Perhaps a dream had.

That peaceful afternoon turned out to be the first doom laid on your life.

Turukano’s marriage to Elenwe had been a diplomatic whirlwind. A process you were quite familiar with. Your own parents had been a part of you. Your mother a Noldorian courtier and your father, Olwe’s youngest son. 

A move on the part of an accommodating but cunning Nolofinwe, to lure his father from the hills of Formenos back to Tirion. It didn't hurt to strengthen the ties with Vanya for the second in line for the throne. 

But for you, it was a sentence worse than a lifetime in the Void. You never had a chance to confess. Never heard anything from him. The only thing you possessed was the fleeting look in his eyes as he slid the ring of betrothal onto Elenwe’s finger.

You couldn’t attend the wedding that seemed to have brought the high king back to Tirion. The entire Valinor seemed to have celebrated the union that reassembled the match of Finwe and Indis. Instead, you spent the rest of the year hiding the illness that plagued your body. A slow rot from your lungs to the rest of you. 

So it came as a surprise when you returned home from a year at Lorein to the sight of Princess Anaire in your home. With a simple letter in her hands, she smiled at you as she continued her excited chatter with your parents. 

A letter that contained the proposal that brought hopeful smiles to your parent’s faces. 

Etched in flawless handwriting was the proposal of your wedding to the firstborn of Prince Nolofinwe, Prince Findekano, who had returned from his century-long apprenticeship with the Maiar of Yavanna. 

A proposal that would have been sent to Elenwe of Valmar, had it come a year early. 

But you too were a match worthy to Anaire’s son, just not the one you had loved. Your father has been overjoyed. Most Teleri were. For their princess to marry the firstborn of Nolofinwe, was a fate similar to the one that your aunt Earwen had borne decades ago. Hers had been of her choosing.

Your first meeting with Findekano was arranged a day before your betrothal to him. A fever dream that is a blur of past recollections, distant conversations from childhood and Turukano. 

Every mention of his name seared your heart with marks that dug into the existing scars of the past. Like a Knave you yearned for him, even then. 

Your courting with Findekano barely lasted half a year before you were both rushed into a marriage that aimed to retry repairing the ties, Turukano and Elenwe’s union had failed to repair. To appease the infamous Feanaro out of his exile in Formenos. 

Invitations were sent to all and everyone. Especially, to Nelyafinwe, who Findekano claimed to be his dearest cousin. You visited the deary walls of Formenos with Fingon to meet the cousin who practically raised him. To urge the elf to attend a wedding you did not expect yourself to make it to.

The world revolved around the preparations for your wedding. Yet, your heart was stuck mourning a loss from the past. As if his name was written all over it repeatedly.

The smile on your face felt bitter. But it seems to work for all around you. 

Even Findekano, who serenaded you hanging from your balcony in the hours of Silver, seemed to believe the brittle laughter that fell effortlessly from your lips. And mistook the pained wetness of your eyes with tears of mirth.

But you felt your fea unraveling. Under your father’s gaze, Anaire and Nolofinwe’s feasts, Findekano’s jests. 

And perhaps they all had known the mess you were behind your act. Turukano knew. 

You saw the trepidation in his eyes when Elenwe excitedly whispered the news of her child to you. You had smiled brightly as you always did. You hugged her and wished upon her the blessing of Varda. 

You responded to Findekano’s subsequent jest with a well-versed roll of eyes and blushing smile but your heart barely held itself together. Ignoring the caving walls you smiled and laughed in the role that you were given. The world seemed to be drunk off your misery. 

And your smile did not falter when you congratulated Turukano as a friend should have. As a dear childhood friend. Your facade was immaculate to your belief. You have learned it well over the past year.

That night, the illness returned, only this time it managed to etch itself into your fea. A creeping realization of your fall. Self-loathing filled your every pore. You were envious of a child. You wanted one. You wanted him and his child. Your wretched self wanted everything that Turukano was. 

The elf you grew up playing house with. He was your prince. He had woven the tale of your play so well that you in your foolishness had believed it to be true. Were you too broken to give up on a silly dream he had moved on from? 

Back then no drought, no salve, no chant helped the rot that climbed into the crevices of your fea. 

The next day you married Findekano on the shores of Alqualonde with a blinding smile. Covered the rot of your fea with a wedding bond.

[elvisabutler]

Elvis being sad for whatever reason and reader curls up on the couch with him and tel hey watch Disney movies together to help him feel better

the happiest place on earth is here with you

summary: after a particularly rough day on set, elvis takes it upon himself to rent an entire movie theater out to watch disney movies with you. fandom: elvis presley | elvis ( 2022 ) | austin butler rating: t for a might bit of swearing i suppose pairing: elvis presley x female reader word count: 988 warnings: mention of stress. mention of sadness. elvis being extra. mention of walt disney. author’s note: happy 88th birthday to our favorite man, y'all! first off thank you for the request anon and thank you for making it before his birthday so i could have a little fluff piece to post vs any smut or grand epics i've got up my sleeves. y'all might have to suspend your disbelief a little since film and movie houses did things a certain way but i needed something that wasn't me attempting- and likely fumbling- a modern elvis take. ( seriously @headfullofpresley did some flawless work on that front so go check that out ) but while all the tech was available for him to perhaps have the movies on tape, he would have had to have something to tape it from and if i do remember right when it comes to disney and their vaults and every other thing that is a harder ask than you think. also put this as 60s elvis though trust me y'all it was hard to resist doing big daddy or even widdle 50s baby elvis. choose austin or real elvis for this i am not picky, i truly just wanted to use the robe gif while i am also in a robe writing this.

You are used to Elvis and how sometimes he can get in a mood, after all, you've been with him through a surprising amount of issues that instead of making the two of you pull apart had kept you together. Pulled you closer together, even, and yet sometimes he had a way of surprising you, a way of doing something so off the wall and minorly bonkers that you wonder just what in the hell had gotten into him. This was one of those times. It's not that he hasn't done it before, hasn't rented out a whole theater so the two of you and the Memphis Mafia could just enjoy some pictures all without having to be interrupted by fans that Elvis adores but can also be a bit- a lot- much.

It's more the timing that gets to you, since there was about as much of a lead up or a warning as a sudden thunderstorm in the South. Hell, even the time he chose to do it was a new one since normally it would be a situation that only happens in the daytime. Still, you're not complaining, it's sometimes incredibly tricky to actually find the time to enjoy the company of your boyfriend especially when he's busy filming. If he wants to pick you up in one of his cars and take you to a movie theater well you'll allow it, you'll take it.

Entering the actual theater, you're struck by the fact that there is the barest of staff and only Sonny for a bodyguard there. This was yet again a shift from the normal way he would go about this sort of thing but it was fine, in fact it was a little better than fine you thought as you allowed Elvis to pull you closer to him as he grabbed popcorn for the two of you and some Pepsis among other things.

The auditorium where you and Elvis would be watching whatever planned movie or movies he wanted to is already a little dark but you see what looks like a small little picnic set out on the ground complete with enough pillows to rival even the comfiest couch or bed in Graceland or in California. You can't help but turn to him before even starting to sit down. "Alright, E, what's this about?"

Elvis for his part instantly deflates at the question, it was easy to tell you everything was fine and act his normal way when he doesn't want to worry you. When he didn't want to worry you until you had both settled down and were relaxing. He should have remembered you know him as well as anyone ever has or probably will. His answer comes after a long sigh.

"Had- It was a rough day on set, baby. Stunts were awful, kept messin' up my damn lines, and I jus'- wanna jus' curl up wit' my baby, my darlin' and forget all of it happened. Wanna relax here wit' ya and watch some silly fun movies. Got 'em to find some real old ones, asked Mr. Disney himself for 'em."

Your eyes widen at the last statement, momentarily forgetting that yes, your boyfriend is just that famous that he can casually ask Walt Disney for film reels of his films. A beat passes before you allow yourself to smile gently at Elvis, taking the drinks and popcorn before motioning for him to sit down. "You first then. My head in your lap for the first picture, and then your head in mine until we fall asleep, hm?"

At your response you see Elvis's face light up like a young boy on Christmas or on his birthday. It's as if just the mere idea of what you propose has him giddy and releasing all the tension that was inside of him from the day's events. This is what you loved about Elvis- how he'll help everyone he can and try and make them feel alright and happy to the point of sometimes hurting himself mentally and physically. But when you do it for him? Oh, it's like you've done him the greatest honor on the planet. He doesn't waste a minute settling down on the ground, his back leaning up against the pillows as he lets out a long groan at finally being able to just sit and relax. A smile soft and gentle graces your features as you hand him back the drinks and popcorn and settle down next to him, laying down so that your head rests comfortably in his lap.

"Tell me you've got Mary Poppins first, I've wanted to see that again so badly." You ask as his hand moved to try and fiddle with your hair, almost as if to calm him more than just your presence did.

His blue eyes twinkle when you ask the question full of mirth and sneakiness that have you mildly concerned for just a brief moment before he answers. "Ya jus' gonna have to watch and find out, aren't ya?"

Your eyes narrow before you pull him down to your face for a soft kiss. "I guess I am, Mr. Presley. Hopefully you picked good ones or I'm gonna be the one leaving sad and stressed out."

His laugh- the laugh he's needed to have all day rings out as the movie starts to play. "Trust me baby, you'll be fine. Picked our favorites, not just mine."

Mary Poppins was the third picture and while you both did try and stay awake, truly you did, you both found yourself drifting off to the song Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious as you stroked Elvis's hair in between bites of the little picnic he had made. The theater let you both stay, sending home their workers after they had cleaned up the front. After all, who was going to wake up the Elvis Presley and his girlfriend when they looked that peaceful together?

taglist: @eliseinmemphis, @ab4eva, @blurredcolour, @aconflagrationofmyown and @butlersxbirdy, @lindszeppelin, @powerofelvis @floralcyanide @steph-speaks @mooodyblue swear to god i will actually set up a tag list form for everyone to fill out so i know who to do what to. i just hate feeling like i'm bugging y'all with the tags if you don't wanna read it.

[medusanova]

Anything That Can Go Wrong

For my fellow rivusa shipper, @fitztragedy​ xx

When Musa learns that Riven is the ‘mentor’ assigned to improve her hand-to-hand combat skills -- and help her pass the only class she has left to complete her third year specialist courses -- she begins to wonder if Murphy’s Law should be amended from ‘anything’ always going wrong to ‘anyone’. 

Because apparently it isn’t enough they’d both left, well, things awkwardly suspended between them after the spiraling catastrophe that was her second year. He’s also still the only person to know what happened with the scrapers. 

Added to that, Riven also happened to be one of only five people in the whole of Alfea that sat at the same desk as her in botany class last term, leaving her to battle his soil remnants, eraser shavings, seat warmth, and general presence for an entire hour everyday. And, worst of all, he’s still the only person who’s ever come close to understanding the very heart of her. 

And now? Well, now she has an entire month to make a fool of herself in front of her biggest rival on the training pitch. All in the name of making it to her fourth and final year. 

Their meeting time is set for an hour before dusk every other evening on the patch of grounds near the barrier. On her first day, Riven arrives as she’s securing her fighting gloves around her wrists. He quietly sets up the training mat and stands in wait, patient as can be.

“Hey,“ she greets. She isn’t going to let him of all people show her up in decency.

“Muse,“ he drawls with a nod. “Why the fuck are you wearing gloves?“

Decency her arse. She barely prevents her eyes from rolling and lifts a brow. “For safety and protection? Maybe you should try it sometime.” 

“Oh don’t worry ‘bout me, Pixie. I always use protection,” he assures with a growing smirk. 

Musa manages to ‘accidentally’ clip a fist against his jaw during their session. She considers it a great start to the month.

She sees him a week later during her free period, which also happens to be his free period (see? Murphy’s Law: Person Edition), when she has the unfortunate idea of spending it outside. She’s walking through the courtyard with her headphones around her neck, ready to settle behind the tree situated furthest away from the main building.

He’s already there, of course, under her favorite willow. Faint traces of cigarette smoke pepper the air as he hunches over his phone, legs sprawled over the comfiest part of the roots. The only reason she doesn’t spontaneously combust is because of the faint purple mark she spots under his right cheek.

He gives her a look when she slowly lowers herself onto the gravelly dirt nearby before going back to his phone. She’s about to put her headphones on when he sighs in exasperation.

“At the risk of being decked in the jaw again-“

“Bet you’re glad I had those gloves on, huh?“

“-I feel the need to ask: why on earth are you sitting over there?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, there’s only one comfy place to sit under this tree.” She digs her phone out of her back pocket, ready to drown him out. 

“Musa,” Riven says, sounding vexed, “you look tragic. If you’re really set on this tree for some reason come and sit here.” He scoots over, extending his legs in front of him to give her enough room.

When she continues to stare at him he grins and says, “Promise I won’t bite.”

Riven doesn’t bite. Which is rather unfortunate since instead they talk about music and his upcoming apprenticeship with Silva and he even shares a bite of the cookie he stole from the canteen, which forces her to play her new favorite band out loud for him. In effort to not lose in the decency department, of course.

“What’s your last class?” he asks as she secures her headphones back around her neck.

She stands a moment before he does, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “History. Why?” 

“Drop by the bastion when it’s over?” They started back toward the main building. “I’ve been doing weapons training with some of the first-years and they’re having trouble grasping the art of the bo staff. Thought you could share a few pointers.”

“Oh!” She grabs his bicep, barely containing her smile. “Yes, I’d love that. Though, fair warning, I haven’t been using it as much this term to ‘round out my strengths’ so once I join you might have a hard time getting rid of me.”

His lips quirk in the corner, creasing a dimple into the corner of his cheek. “That’s what I was counting on, actually.”

After her class she makes her way to the group of first years wielding staffs haphazardly as their instructor guides them in a commanding, yet reassuring voice. He weaves her into his class seamlessly, allowing her to take over their instruction and demonstrate effective techniques they could use in the future.

Throughout the lesson, she studiously avoids catching a glimpse of Riven and that cheek dimple he’d flashed at her earlier. The one that she couldn’t stop thinking about all day. She can, however, feel him staring at her intently as he wraps class up. 

It’s just the two of them left when she finally catches sight of him and Murphy’s Law bites her in the arse again. 

He’s clearly been working with students a majority of the day because his shirt sleeves have been rolled to the elbows, revealing an obscene amount of forearm that flexes as he holds two staffs and twirls them in each hand. Perspiration clings steadfastly to his cheeks and forehead and upper lip.

“Since when do you use a staff?” she asks, irritated with how breathless it she sounds, with how his cheek twitches. 

She almost doesn’t catch it when he launches at her, too focused on that charming, damned dimple again. 

“Watch.”

He comes at her without warning, making her raise her weapon to defend herself. And like they’d rehearsed it, they fall perfectly into a spar. Five minutes. Ten. She doesn’t know how long. They’re twin flames dancing around each other. 

It takes her a few moments to realize he’s using her moves. 

“Have to say, I’m pretty impressed,” she admits, stopping their spar.  

His face, which had been guarded and focused until then, broke into a smile. “Yeah?”

“Who taught you these super impressive and original moves?”

“Some mind fairy,” he quips, laughing at her shout of indignation. “You should see her do these. Mine are a poor imitation.”

She gives him her most serious expression. “Hm. I beg to differ.”

“You do?” 

“Yes. I have it on good authority.”

She’s about to turn away, unable to withstand the attraction and electricity buzzing between them when his fingers brush hers and suddenly he grabs the staff, throwing it into a pile with the rest.

“Hey! Give it back.”

“I’ll give it back later. But right now, I’d really like to kiss you.”

She flattens her lips to stop the smile from spreading across her cheeks. “You would, would you?”

“Very much so,” he murmurs. 

“I didn’t think you were the type to ask for permission,” she prods.

“Hm, usually I’m not,” he cups her face in his hands, sliding his fingers along her jaw. She barely stops her eyes from closing in pleasure. “Then again, I usually don’t end up with a bruise on my face when I’m with anyone else so let’s call this a special case.”

She smiles and covers said bruise with her palm, placing her thumb over his dimple. “Oh, well I don’t think you have anything to worry about this time around.”

His breath ghosts her lips, mouth so close she could feel his smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, I have it on good authority.”

Maybe, she thought, Murphy’s Law knew what it was doing after all. 

Happy happy birthday to you, dear Val!!

[appleofthemoon]

⸻   *  ❪  ❀  ...  ROSE

premise. oh dear, it looks like death has parted you and your lover. don’t worry, beomgyu is here to make you whole again.

pairing. non-idol! choi beomgyu x widow(er)! reader.

pantone. yandere.

word count. six hundred seventy three.

warning. delusional yandere, a funeral takes place, allusion to death by suffocation.

note for the reader. the depiction of the muse does not reflect upon their behavior in the real world. the muse’s actions are also not condoned by me, this is all purely a work of fiction.

“YOU LOVE HIM.”

thump.

“you love him not.”

scratch.

“you love him.”

thump.

“you love him not.”

scratch.

and he does this a few more times—cradling the rose petal before letting it fall upon the disturbed earth. to beomgyu's delight, he peels off the last one and hums, “you love him not.”

but you don't seem to share his happiness. in fact, so many tears are falling down, the handkerchief he gave you is useless. so he tucks the stem in his breast pocket, kneels in front of you, and cups your face in his hands.

“it's okay, sweetheart. funerals really are a sad occasion.” he assures you while the pads of his thumbs gently wipe your cheeks clean.

you say nothing, not when the sadness that's painted on your face says everything. it pains beomgyu to see it, but he doesn't stop you. give some time with him, and that pain will ebb quicker than you think.

eventually, your sobs are nothing more than sniffles. feeling like you've cried enough for the buried, you finally take beomgyu's hand and rise from your chair. unfortunately, due to the uneven ground, you lose your footing and accidentally stumble into his arms.

within this close proximity, you feel his warm breath fan over your skin as he whispers, “already falling for me, sweetheart? you should be more careful, or else people will start to talk.”

you close your eyes and beg, “please, let's just go..”

“whatever you wish, my flower~”

he steps back and guides you to the car. since your wrist is still healing from an.. accident, beomgyu decides to rest his hand upon the small of your back. but if someone looked closer, they'd notice him pinching your top between his index and middle finger.

you get into the passenger seat and fold your hands upon your lap once you do so. beomgyu prefers you to sit that way, claiming it accentuates your ‘delicateness’. you don't know what that means.

what you do know is that it's better to not question him.

“wait here, sweetheart. i'll just go get the chair, and then i'll take you home, okay?”

“alright, just don't take too long.” your response makes him so happy, he just has to give you a kiss on the cheek before shutting the door.

of course he makes sure to lock the car. what if someone is watching, waiting for an opening so they can take you from him? he might as well dig a grave for himself too.

there's a pep in his step as he walks back to the site. he hums while folding the chair, but pauses because the noise your ex-lover is making is threatening to overpower it. that just won't do, not when he's trying to make a melody for you. so he stands over the grave and looks upon it with a frown.

“stop being such a baby, i got you the comfiest bed possible.” he hears a faint scream, eliciting him to roll his eyes and scoff, “how ungrateful, maybe i shouldn't have wasted my time on making a resting place.”

a series of banging and scratching follows suit, as well as cries of your name. and he does it a few more times—trying to break the coffin open before calling for your help. to your ex's fright, nothing is working; you're not coming.

“denial won't do you any good. just accept the fact that i'm here now to do everything you didn't, including caring for them and ensuring their happiness. once you do that, you'll be able to rest peacefully.”

beomgyu can't help but smile as the sounds gradually decreases until.. silence. hm, seems like the male finally listened to him. he takes out the rose's stem and a lighter. after carefully twirling the former between his fingers, he snaps it in two.

“they love me.”

he puts it back in his pocket, right above his heart.

“they love me not.”

then he burns the other half, its remains carelessly scattered upon the dirt.

[lesbianboyfriend]

my bed is the comfiest place on earth until i have to go to sleep

[pixlokita]

Can you draw the Crying Child, Michael and Gregory just chilling on Henry’s couch?

Comfiest place on earth

[daisychainsandbowties]

Palmer AU when there’s a serious storm, though. Ava being all, “momma earth, call it off, I wanna go out and play,” and Suzanne is just, “no.” The storm is knocking out everybody’s special fancy equipment so Beatrice is, “I’m going to take a nap. Would you like to join me Ava?” and Ava’s brain melts so she just nods emphatically and drags Beatrice to Beatrice’s quarters. Lilith first checks all her aquariums, then has to search for Camila. Suzanne helps her out so she doesn’t disturb avatrice and says Camila is probably in the ‘boiler room,” a small space full of machines loud enough to drown out a storm. Camila sits wrapped in her favorite blanket with a mug of tea. “Everyone says I’m crazy, but it is warmer in here,” Camila says in greeting. “Everyone says I’m crazy, but it’s usually about diving in places they wouldn’t want to dive.” “Is there anywhere you wouldn’t want to dive?” “… maybe the Hudson?” “Eww, yeah. Good call. Anyway, I like to wait out storms here. Wanna cuddle?”

beatrice is 100% the guy who has at least a dozen tracks on her phone that are like ‘10 hours of [insert extreme weather here]’ so she greets the prospect of a huge storm by carrying a load of blankets up to her observatory and stocking the mini-fridge ava got her with snacks.

ava: bea… you want to sit in a room that’s 64% glass while the sky tries to eat us??

beatrice: 😐 of course i do. how many times in my life will i have the chance to observe an arctic storm?

ava follows her up there, footsteps tentative on the metal steps, still making a racket in her hobnail boots. drawn by the prospect of lazy sex under a ripped-up sky and staying for the way beatrice holds her hand the whole time, as they wend up through the building with the wind already sighing at them through the thickness of the walls.

bea at first wrapped in her ragged blue blanket with threadbare, tasseled edges. her comfiest hoodie and a space heater running off solar batteries.

noticing that ava’s a little spooked and telling her in her soothing lecture monotone about the exact composition of the glass windows; all the reasons why they won’t break.

‘mechanically, breakage is about the propagation of cracks, on an atomic level, then into our visual range. thinner cracks are usually worse, if you’re the thing that’s breaking.’

(and ava doesn’t tell her that she knows about breaking, actually. that’s she done it).

‘but this glass doesn’t let it happen in the profuse way of the glass you’re used to. it’s stable, probably sturdier than the walls.’

the sea turning dark as the clouds scatter over the horizon, bea explaining how storms work, research papers she’s read about the atmosphere on venus and what Sagan said about the runaway greenhouse effect, everything trapped beneath the sulfuric clouds that make it so difficult to even look at the planet's surface.

‘what must that have felt like? to be denied the image of a distant place even though you could peer right towards it.’

‘you see then how light can illuminate, but also obscure. how the universe has so much light in it, but that can make it hard to see what sits behind the light, beyond it.'

'do you know how we discovered the dark parts of the universe? how we learned about them? through their absence in the visual field.’

she talks about the development of radar and infrared, and when the storm hits ava’s just draped against her, lost in the curve of her voice and her waist because she’s stuck her cold hands under bea’s hoodie. lazily pressing her mouth into bea’s neck to feel the hum of her low voice as vibration.

ava: i think i get it now

bea: what?

ava: how you can know a place, or a person, even without any light.