#wildflower blend

[bonkas-blurb-hitlist]

Wildflower Blend

Fandom(s): Meine Liebe Prompt: Countryside - AUgust 2022 Challenge Series: N/A Length: Oneshot Idea: Camus goes on a trip to the countryside to gather wildflowers for his gardens. Ludwig and Naoji decide to accompany him and Camus thanks them with wildflower tea.

Notes: I want this one to have a really chilled out, relaxed vibe, like Flying Witch or Natsume Yuujinchou. That sort of feel.

[berixblitz]

kinda old art of them 2

[fuckithomestead]

Ok this is fucking cool. A local company sells their seeds in cloth packages

[madlensims]

Woodland Muse

Just now

Slip into the wonders of whispering forests, where wildflowers dream and the air is filled with the soft serenade of the leaves 🍂🌳🍂

This outfit is inspired by a blend of cottage charm and a touch of timeless folk attire 🌳🌲

🌹🌹🌹

Hand drawn patterns and soft fabric textures make this outfit a comfy and unique piece! 

This set includes 2 items: the whole outfit and a separated sweater (which can be combined with other clothing items)

DOWNLOAD (Public 23/Oct/23)

[blujayonthewing]

got a little too lost in the sauce last night playing with perfume and spritzed a couple into my dice bag and now it smells exactly like a grandma's sock drawer

[angelbwrry]

𝒮𝒜𝒯𝐼𝒱𝒜. 𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐣. 𝟗𝐤.

𝐜𝐰꣑ৎ spiritual! reader x skater! eren, smut with a plot, cannabis consumption, outside sex, facial, ass eating, fingering, oral, boob job, praise, creaming, use of the n word, explicit language, multiple orgasms, lots of flufffff . . . or in which you remind him of a fairy. mdni.

𝐥 𝐞 𝐱 𝐢’ 𝐬 𝐧 𝐨 𝐭 𝐞 𝐬꣑ৎ i hate this???? alsooooo ignore any errors, i did edit but there’s prob still errorssss. i wasn’t gonna post but i want it out of my drafts. as alwaysssss please reblog, like, or comment if you enjoy :)

the woods are a tranquil haven, bathed in the golden hues of summer. the air is crisp, with a gentle breeze that occasionally stirs the leaves, sending whispers through the trees. the soft voice of jhene aiko plays from a speaker perched against a sturdy oak, her melodies blending seamlessly with the sounds of nature.

you sit on the yoga mat, eyes closed in deep meditation, posture serene and composed. this moment, surrounded by the beauty and calm of the forest is exactly what you needed after a long stressful week.

the world outside fades away, leaving only the harmonious symphony of the woods and the soothing cadence of your breath. the forest is alive, yet peaceful, with birds singing their songs and the distant rustle of small creatures moving through the underbrush. sunlight filters through the canopy, creating a kaleidoscope of light and shadow on the forest floor, where wildflowers bloom in vibrant colors, adding splashes of pink, yellow, and purple to the green expanse.

the brook nearby gurgles softly, its clear waters reflecting the sky above. the air is filled with the rich scent of pine and earth, grounding you even more deeply in your practice. as you breathe in, you feel the coolness of the breeze on your skin, and as you exhale, you release the tension of the past week.

each moment here is a gift, a reminder of the simple, profound beauty of nature and the peace it brings to the soul. this is your sanctuary, a place where you can reconnect with yourself and find the balance you seek.

eren was just looking for a place to smoke; he hadn’t expected to see anyone out here this far in. so, you can imagine his shock when he laid eyes on you. he pauses, confused, wondering what you’re doing there. his presence disrupts the serenity, and you can feel his eyes on you, piercing through the quiet like an uninvited guest.

the soft rustling of leaves under his feet seems louder in the stillness, and the faint scent of weed mingles with the fresh air. he hesitates, torn between retreating to give you back your peace and staying to satisfy his curiosity.

“do you always spy on women like this?” a hint of annoyance and curiosity laces your voice.

he kisses his teeth and responds with a smirk, "only when they’re doing something as weird as this." his remark hangs in the air, a blend of sarcasm and intrigue.

you narrow your eyes at him, feeling the tension rise. "it’s called meditation," you quickly retort, trying to maintain your calm demeanor. "ever heard of it?"

eren shrugs, shaking his head. "yeah . . i’ve heard of it. just never seen anyone take it so seriously out here in the middle of nowhere."

you take a deep breath, trying to center yourself again. "well, it's my way of finding peace. what about you? what's your excuse for being out here?"

he shrugs again, pulling a joint from his pocket and lighting it up. "needed a place to chill. didn't expect to find anyone else out here." his piercing green eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the forest seems to hold its breath. despite the initial friction, there's an undeniable curiosity between you two.

you watch him take a drag, the smoke curling around his face, and wonders what stories he carries with him. he looks at you, seeing more than just a girl meditating in the woods, sensing a depth he hadn't expected to find.

"mind if i join you?" he asks, surprising even himself with the question. you hesitate, then nod slowly. “sure, just . . keep it quiet, okay?"

he grins, settling down a few feet away from you. "deal."

you have to admit, he’s a sight for sore eyes. he sits there, effortlessly cool in a plain black shirt layered over a long-sleeved white one, paired with baggy black cargo pants that seem to hang just right. his white air forces are scuffed, telling stories of countless adventures. his chocolate hair is pulled back by a dark blue bandana, though a few rebellious strands fall into his face, which he occasionally brushes away with a casual flick.

his face is a perfect blend of chiseled and soft, like a sculptor’s masterpiece given life. but the thing that pulls you in the most is his eyes. they look tired, with faint shadows beneath them hinting at sleepless nights or deep thoughts. yet, despite the weariness, they hold a captivating beauty, like a forest after the rain, fresh and full of secrets. it’s easy to get lost in them, and as your gaze travels, you notice his eyebrow piercing, the tiny piece of metal gleaming in the sun, adding a touch of edge to his already striking appearance.

“what’s your name?” he asks, blunt wrapped in between his fingers as he looks at you.

“ೀ?” your voice is soft as you speak, it makes him smile.

"i’m eren . . . or ren, guess it doesn’t really matter." he inhales another puff of the toxin, eyes watching as the smoke floats. "so, you come out here like a weirdo all the time?” he doesn’t look at you as he asks this, opting to swipe dirt with his thumb off the side of his shoe.

not like it would do anything; those shoes had come to the end of their life.

“nig-,” deep breaths. “ i come here to to find peace and clarity. the forest has a way of . . grounding me, i guess.” eren nods, he’s intrigued. “i get that. sometimes i come out here to escape too. different reason, but i guess we’re both looking for something. meditation though . . . wouldn’t mind trying it.”

your brown eyes study him for a moment, noticing the way his eyes soften as he talks. "you don’t seem like the type to meditate." an innocent, playful smile forms on your lips as you tease him.

you catch the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, almost like he’s fighting back a grin. his rough exterior seems to crack just a bit, revealing a glimpse of vulnerability. the way he shifts his weight tells you he’s not used to being scrutinized like this.

he laughs, “yeah, well, i might surprise you. maybe you could teach me sometime?”

fluffy eyebrows raise on your forehead, “you really want to learn how to meditate?”

“why not? could be fun,” he says, leaning back on his elbows. “plus, it means i get to hang out with you more.”

is he flirting? he is definitely flirting.

eren finds you extremely cute, especially now that he was so close to you, breathing in your perfume—sandalwood? he presumes. you remind him of a fairy. with your curly hair pulled back by a emerald green scarf, edges smoothed to perfection across your forehead, curls dancing wildly in the wind. a crotched strapless bikini top clings to your chest and he finds it hard not to stare at your boobs.

or the way your waist-beads cling to your curvy hips that adorn a long green skirt that matches your scarf. his eyes linger on you, taking in every detail, as if trying to memorize the moment. the soft glow of the setting sun casts a warm hue on your skin, making you look almost ethereal in the fading light.

he notices the way your smile reaches your eyes, creating a sparkle that makes his heart skip a beat. your presence exudes a calm yet vibrant energy that he can't quite put his finger on. the gentle sway of your skirt in the breeze, the way your voice mingles with the rustling leaves, and the subtle scent of your perfume—all these little details make it impossible for him to look away.

“alright . . . i guess i could show you, but you can’t get bored and back out, okay?”

“me back out? pft, never.” he once again kisses his teeth, raising the joint to his mouth. he wonders if you smoke, and before he knows it, he's extending the joint to you. you grab it, bringing it up to your lips and inhaling deeply. it's been so long since you last smoked; you were trying to stop. but who were you to decline such a generous offer from your new friend?

as the smoke fills your lungs, you feel a mix of nostalgia and slight guilt. you glance at him, noticing the way his eyes study you, curious and slightly amused.

you exhale slowly, watching the smoke swirl and dissipate into the air. the joint passes back to him, and he takes a drag, his eyes never leaving yours.

“alright. we’ll meet back here tomorrow at five.” you watch as he nods.

“so, what do you do when you’re not meditating?”

you shrug, pulling your knees into your chest and resting your head on them. “i’m a student, i also teach yoga classes at a wellness center in town. what about you?”

“well, i’m also a student. and when i’m not balls deep in essays, i skate. and if i’m not skating, i’m at work”

you lean in, “where do you work?”

“record store. it’s not much, but i love it.”

"music is powerful," you finally speak up after a few seconds. "it can be a form of meditation too, y’know?”

he looks at you, surprised. "really? never thought of it that way."

you nod. "it’s all about finding what brings you peace and helps you connect with yourself."

eren takes another drag from his joint, considering your words. "you know, you're pretty cool. different, but cool."

you can’t help but laugh softly. "i’m gonna take that as a compliment. you’re not so bad yourself, eren.”

time flew by as you sat there with eren in the woods, chatting about everything and nothing. the ambiance of the forest, the rustling leaves, and the distant call of birds created a serene backdrop that made the conversation flow effortlessly. you weren't sure if it was the weed, but you found him incredibly easy to talk to. his presence was comforting, and you felt a sense of ease that you hadn't experienced in a long time.

you even let him sit beside you on your mat, feeling your arms brush together occasionally. each touch sending a subtle, yet significant, wave of warmth through you, making you realize how much you enjoyed his company.

eventually, eren glanced at his watch and sighed. "i have to get to work," he said reluctantly, standing up and brushing off his pants.

"already?" you asked, unable to hide the disappointment in your voice.

"sadly, duty calls," he replies with a small smile. "but i really enjoyed this. i’ll see you tomorrow."

you nodded, feeling a mix of contentment and longing. "definitely. it was nice talking to you, eren." he gave you one last lingering look before turning to leave.

"take care, weirdo.”

you roll your eyes, fighting the smile on your lips as you watch him walk away.

౨ৎ

you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a bit bummed that he hadn’t shown up the next evening. you racked your brain for excuses on why he’d flaked out on you. had he been faking interest in you? maybe something urgent had come up, or perhaps he just wasn’t as intrigued by your shared passion as he had seemed. you didn’t even know why it bothered you so much; he was just a guy. a guy that you’d talked to for less than an hour.

so why was he plaguing your mind?

the summer sun glistened off your skin as you made your way to the record store, each step feeling heavier with the weight of your thoughts.

was it a bit stalkerish? yes. did you care? no.

curiosity was gnawing you alive, and no matter how much you meditated and tried to ease your mind, you couldn’t shake eren. the memory of his smile and the way his eyes lit up when he spoke lingered, making it impossible to forget.

you replayed every moment of your conversation, analyzing every word and gesture. was there something you missed? some sign that he wasn’t as interested as you thought? the more you thought about it, the more questions arose, each one more frustrating than the last.

the record store came into view, the only one in town. you took a deep breath and pushed open the door, the cool air inside a welcome relief from the summer heat.

you knew it was him. you could see that familiar chestnut hair pulled back by a bandana, this time a light pink one. his back was turned to you so he didn’t notice you gawking. a bored “welcome,” spilling from his lips. he was talking to a customer who you assumed was asking a question about something.

the record store had a cozy, nostalgic vibe. the walls were lined with wooden shelves, each packed with vinyl records of every genre imaginable. posters of classic rock bands and vintage album covers adorned the walls, giving the place a retro feel. the floor was a mix of worn hardwood and patterned rugs that added to the charm. small potted plants sat on the windowsills, basking in the sunlight that filtered through the large front windows. the light streaming in creating a warm inviting glow.

in one corner, a listening station was set up with old-school headphones and a turntable, inviting customers to sample the music before making a purchase. the air was filled with the faint scent of aged paper and vinyl, mixed with a hint of incense burning somewhere in the back. soft indie music playing in the background, creating a relaxed atmosphere that made you feel at ease.

“do you always spy on men like this?”

touché.

“only when they lie to me.” you turn around, eren’s hand is propped under his chin as he looks at you.

“well, i didn’t lie.”

you fold your arms over your chest, “so why the no show?”

he rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish smile playing on his lips.

“s’ kinda embarrassing but i couldn’t find the spot," he admitted, his eyes darting away for a moment before meeting yours again. "got turned around. i tried shouting your name, guess i was too far." he shrugs.

you immediately felt like an asshole for assuming he was a liar, and of course, stalking him. embarrassment washed over you, leaving you momentarily speechless. as if he could read your mind, he spoke up again, his voice soft and reassuring.

“for what it’s worth, i’m glad you decided to stalk me.” he said with a playful smirk. it was hard to fight the smile at his words.

"you’re so weird," you laugh.

god, he could get used to the sound of that. he doesn’t know how but you look even prettier since the last time he’d seen you. today you wore a green flare long-sleeved top that showed your midriff, and a white skirt that showcased your brown smooth strawberry legs. your hair frames your face in waves a single fish braid with jewelry shimmering brightly, scent of mango filling his nose as the fan breezes you.

“maybe. but you’re a little weird too," he teases. "my shift is almost over. let me walk you home? we can get ice cream or something on the way. my treat for flaking." the sincerity in his offer made your heart flutter, and you couldn’t help but nod, feeling a hint of excitement.

so you waited, and waited, and waited until eren’s replacement came. he looked a bit bummed when he’d pushed open the doors and didn’t see you, eyes lighting up as he saw you sitting outside on the bench.

"thought you ditched," he laughed, a hint of relief in his voice.

“i’m not like you."

“shut up," he said playfully, giving your shoulder a gentle push.

you stood up, and as you walked side by side, the tension from earlier seemed to dissolve. the evening air cool and refreshing, a stark contrast to the warmth of the day.

"so, where to?" he asks, glancing over at you with a curious expression.

"how about that ice-cream you promised?" you suggest, your grin widening.

"deal," he replies, his smile mirroring yours.

as you made your way to the ice cream shop, the conversation flowed easily once again. you talked about everything and nothing, sharing stories and laughing at each other's jokes. it was as if the time you spent waiting had never happened, replaced by the comfort of his presence.

"i thought you were weird, but you’re an actual freak.”eren’s face scrunches as he watches you eat the mint ice-cream. “what are you, a toothpaste enthusiast?"

you roll your eyes playfully. "oh please, mr.chocolate. you can't get more basic than that."

a smirk pulls on his lips. "what can i say? i like chocolate,” he takes a look at you before continuing his comment, “it’s rich and satisfying.”

you can feel your neck warm at his comment. "rich and satisfying? more like predictable," you shoot back, trying to hide your smile.

"predictable? i think you mean dependable," he says, leaning in a bit closer. "besides, chocolate has layers, just like me."

"layers, huh? are you saying you're deep and mysterious?" you ask, raising an eyebrow, your voice dripping with playful challenge.

"maybe i am," he grins, eyes locking onto yours. "but can you handle all these layers?" he took a slow, deliberate bite of his ice cream, his gaze never leaving your face.

you laugh, trying to shake off the butterflies in your stomach. "please, i can handle anything you throw at me."

"that a challenge?" his smirk widens, and you can see the mischief in his eyes.

"maybe it is," you whisper, leaning in just a little, your faces inches apart. "what are you gonna do about it?"

he pauses, his eyes flicking to your lips for just a second before meeting your gaze again. "i guess you'll have to wait and see," he murmurs, voice low and teasing.

you swallow hard, the air between you thick with unspoken tension. "well, don't keep me waiting too long," you hum, voice barely above a whisper.

he sucks his teeth, leaning back but never breaking eye contact. "wouldn’t dream of it. after all, good things come to those who wait."

"is that so?" you take a bite of your ice-cream with a raised brow.

"absolutely.”

the urge to press his lips against yours is strong, but he refrains. you’re so damn intoxicating. your laugh, your smile. he can't help but admire the way the beads around your waist gently clink with your every movement, adding a mesmerizing rhythm to your presence.

"you ready? i wanna show you something," eren’s voice is filled with excitement as he leans in closer. his eyes sparkling with anticipation, a clear sign that he had something special planned.

you raise an eyebrow at him, curiosity piqued. "show me what?" you try to read his expression and figure out what he could possibly have up his sleeve.

eren clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and nudges you with a elbow. "wouldn't be a surprise if i told you," a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

"come on, just a hint?" you pout, poking your lip out, voice tinged with playful desperation, hoping he might give in and reveal a little bit more.

he shakes his head, his grin widening even further. "nope, not a chance. you'll just have to trust me," he says, his tone teasing yet sincere. he holds out his hand, waiting for you to take it.

you hesitate for a moment, placing your hand in his. his fingers wrap around yours, warm and reassuring. "alright, lead the way," you huff, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness as you follow him.

he led you through the park, the summer sun casting a golden glow on everything around you. the scent of blooming flowers filled the air, and the sound of birds chirping added a serene backdrop to your walk. you couldn't help but steal glances at him, wondering what he had planned and why he seemed so eager.

after a short walk, he stopped in front of a skate park. you looked around, confused as to how this could be the surprise. "a skate park?" you asked, a puzzled expression on your face.

he turned to you, his grin never fading. "yep, but that's not the surprise," he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. he walked over to a nearby bench and picked up a skateboard, holding it out to you.

your confusion deepenes. "what's this for?" you asked, taking the skateboard from him and examining it.

he laughs, clearly enjoying your bewilderment.

"remember when you said, 'i can handle anything you throw at me'?" he asked, mimicking your earlier words with a playful tone.

you blink, the memory of your bold statement coming back to you. "wait, you want me to get on this?"

he nodded, his grin widening even more. "yep, it's time to see if you can really handle it," he said, voice filled with challenge and encouragement.

you looked at the skateboard, then back at him. a smile slowly spread across your face as you realized he was serious. "alright, let's do this," you said, feeling a surge of determination.

he helped you onto the skateboard, guiding you with patience and care. as you started to find your balance, you couldn't help but feel a sense of exhilaration.

with eren’s support and encouragement, you began to glide across the smooth surface, laughter and excitement filling the air.

he can’t help but smile as he watches you glide effortlessly on the skateboard, movements fluid and confident. you’re a natural, and it’s a sight that fills him with a mix of admiration and anxiety. he hasn’t felt this way in a long time, and the intensity of his emotions is both exhilarating and terrifying.

“look at you go, weirdo!” eren shouts, his voice carrying a note of pride and encouragement. you giggle, a sound that’s music to his ears, as you try to maintain your balance. skating wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be, probably because you’d spent so many of your younger years ice skating.

your continuous laughter rings out, blending with the sounds of the city around them, as you weave in and out of the path, occasionally glancing back to see him watching you with that same mesmerized expression.

time seems to blur as you skate, lost in the rhythm and joy of the moment. eventually, your legs begin to tire, and you decide to slow down, making your way back to where eren’s standing. you’re slightly out of breath, cheeks flushed with exertion and happiness, but the smile on your face is radiant. as you come to a stop in front of him, you can see the admiration in his eyes, a look that makes your heart skip a beat.

he thought you were interesting before, but now? god, he was entranced by you. every movement, every laugh, every glance – it all captivated him. you’re more than just a pretty face; you’re a whirlwind of energy and grace, and he finds himself drawn to you like never before.

he watches you intently, his eyes tracing the delicate lines of your face as you stand in front of him, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun. your hair cascades in gentle waves, catching the light and creating a halo effect that makes you look almost ethereal.

"you know, you really were amazing out there. i couldn’t take my eyes off you."

"thank you, told you i could handle anything," you huff, voice tinged with a mix of shyness and pride.

“so i see,” eren hums.

the air between you is charged with an unspoken tension, a magnetic pull that seems to draw you together. he reaches out, his fingers brushing against your skin as he gently tucks a strand behind your ear. the touch is light, almost hesitant, but it sends a shiver down your spine.

"you’re making me nervous," you laugh softly.

“sorry . . you just look beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice filled with genuine admiration. the words hang in the air, carrying a weight of sincerity that makes your heart flutter. you looks up at him, doe eyes wide and vulnerable, and for a moment, everything else fades away. it’s just the two of you, standing on the precipice of something new and exciting.

"stop it," playfully you swat his arm, but you can’t hide your smile.

“you’re too much," you say, shaking your head.

"just the right amount, i think," he counters.

he leans in slightly, his breath warm against your ear. “i should get you back to your dorm,” he whispers, the intimacy of the moment making his words feel like a shared secret. you nod, teeth catching your bottom lip as you try to steady your racing heart.

“yeah,” you reply softly, voice barely above a whisper. the simplicity of the word belies the complexity of your emotions, a swirl of excitement, nervousness, and anticipation. you two start walking, the silence between you comfortable and filled with unspoken words.

౨ৎ

you and eren had been consistently hanging out for about a month now, and each hangout was a new adventure, filled with different activities that brought you closer together. sometimes, you’d find yourselves smoking in the woods, the thick canopy above creating a serene and private atmosphere where the world seemed to fade away. other times, you’d meditate together among the trees, the sounds of nature providing a calming backdrop as you both sought inner peace and clarity.

you both enjoyed skating, feeling the rush of wind as you glided down streets and paths, laughing and challenging each other to tricks and races. often, you’d sit and listen to eren passionately talk about his favorite music pieces, his eyes lighting up with every word as he explained the intricacies and emotions behind each note.

even though you weren’t officially dating, eren had brought up the topic, but you wanted to wait a bit longer. perhaps it was your commitment issues, but you needed to be sure he was the one before you took that step. it terrified you how fast you were falling for him. he was perfect—sweet, kind, considerate, and cute—everything you’d ever wanted in a partner.

yet, despite all his wonderful qualities, you found yourself second-guessing. the fear of getting hurt or making the wrong choice loomed over you, casting a shadow on your budding feelings.

you still hadn’t had sex, just shared the occasional kisses that left your heart racing. you appreciated how patient he was with you, never pushing your boundaries and always respecting your pace.

“am i doing this right?" eren sits perched on the blanket you’d brought along. usually, you’d just bring your mat, but he wanted to sit closer to the water today. the brook's gentle babbling and the sunlight dancing on the surface created a serene and calming atmosphere. you can’t but giggle at him, his legs awkwardly crossed over each other, his face scrunched up in concentration. you smile and place your hands on his back, gently guiding him.

“straighten up," you say, your touch soft but firm. he adjusts his posture, looking up at you with a grateful smile, and you can’t help but feel a surge of affection for him.

“have i told you how beautiful you are?” eren hums.

“yep. only everyday.”

“well it’s true, c’mere.”

giggling, you crawl over to him and press a kiss against his lips. the kiss starts off soft, a gentle brush that sends a shiver down your spine. slowly, it deepens, becoming more intense and passionate. you can feel the warmth of his breath mingling with yours, his hands gently cradling your face as he pulls you closer. he slides his hands down to your waist, pulling you firmly against him. in response, you straddle him, feeling the connection between you intensify.

“are you ready... because we don’t have to—” eren starts, his voice tinged with uncertainty. you cut him off, smiling down at him with a mix of admiration and tenderness. “i’m ready,” you whisper, your voice steady and reassuring. leaning in, you place a gentle kiss on the corner of his lips, a gentle promise of your commitment.

he nods, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. finding none, his fingers move to the hem of your dress, the fabric cool against his warm touch. with deliberate care, he pulls it over your head, the dress slipping away to reveal the trust and anticipation that lie between you.

“so f’kin pretty,” he mutters, his voice thick with desire as his hands knead your bare breast between his fingers. the sensation sends a shiver down your spine, and you groan, eyelids fluttering shut.

you feel the warm, wet touch of his tongue as it circles your sensitive nipples, each lick sending waves of pleasure through your body. his movements are slow and deliberate, heightening the intensity of every touch, and you can't help but arch into him, craving more.

“ren, touch me please.” your voice is strangled and needy as you speak.

“and i thought i was the impatient one,” eren kisses his teeth, gently placing you on your back. you hadn’t been wearing underwear nor a bra, and eren was twitching as he soaked you in, legs slightly parted.

“shut up,” you breathe out shakily, watching eren lower himself to you. there’s a dark glint in his eyes and you swallow thickly, your arousal leaking onto the blanket. he groans at the beautiful sight, his hands roaming possessively over your body, taking in every inch of you with a hunger that makes your heart race.

his fingers trace the curves of your hips, moving up to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through you. his lips follow, trailing hot kisses down your neck, pausing to nip and suck at your sensitive skin, making you hiss.

his gentle pecks lead down to your pussy, his large hands kneading the soft flesh. the way you fill his hands drives him wild; he can't get enough of your thick ass.

“o-oh fuck,” a whiny sigh fumbles from your lips as you feel eren’s tongue on your slick cunt, hands still digging into your flesh as he slowly glides his tongue over you.

you’re the perfect blend of sweet and salty, a taste that leaves his mouth watering, hands desperately tugging you further onto his face. eren had barely started, yet here you were trembling underneath him. falling apart as he licked, kissed, and sucked on your bud.

"tsk, tsk, tsk. already trembling?" he murmurs, his voice dripping with tease. he takes advantage of your flexibility, pushing your legs until your knees almost touch your face. his eyes darken with desire as he watches your body bend to his will, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

here you were, in all your glory. your wet pussy quivering with need, asshole begging for him to stick a finger inside. every inch of your skin tingles with anticipation as you feel his intense gaze drinking in the sight of you.

“e-eren!” you mewl out as his tongue spazzes against your throbbing clit. his subtle deep hums sending vibrations through your body.

“love when you say my name like that,” he grunts, lips coated with your juices as he presses a tender kiss on your shaking inner thigh. the sensation of his warm breath against your skin only heightens your arousal, making you arch your back against the blanket.

his hands roam over your body, fingers tracing every curve and dip, igniting sparks of pleasure with each touch. he moves his mouth back to your trembling clit, tongue flicking and swirling, driving you wild with desire. your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as your moans fill the air, the tension building to an almost unbearable peak.

"f-feels s-so good!" you cry out, your voice trembling with pleasure as his tongue flutters against your aching pussy. his hands grip your thighs firmly, holding you in place as he licks and teases each movement sending waves of ecstasy through your body. your hips bucking involuntarily, seeking more of his touch, as you felt the heat pooling in your core, ready to overflow.

he eases your slick folds open and slurps at them, each stroke of his tongue sending shivers through your body, making you writhe in pleasure.

"mgnhn!" you cry out as his tongue flutters against your aching pussy quicker, the sensation overwhelming you. your hands gripping the blanket tightly, knuckles turning white as you tried to hold on.

“this shit so beautiful,” he groans out, his dick hardening in his gray sweatpants. his eyes are locked on your face, watching every expression of ecstasy that crossed it. he has to reach down to adjust himself, the sight of you driving him wild with desire.

you gulp back a sob as he slides two thick fingers inside you. your pussy holding his fingers firmly as you adjusted, the sensation both overwhelming and intoxicating.

his fingers began to move, slowly at first, teasing you as they explored every inch of your inner walls. soon, gentle moans escaped your open mouth, the squelching noises of eren playing in your pussy echoing throughout the forest, mixing with the sound of your heavy breathing.

“doing so well, pretty,” eren coos, voice dripping with lust. he pumps his fingers at a quicker speed, his thumb circling your clit in tandem. dark eyes watching your every reaction as his fingers curled inside you, hitting that perfect spot.

“ughh’m fuck,” your back arches off the blanket as you feel the pleasure building, ready to explode. his free hand grips your thigh, holding you steady as he works you closer to the edge, the intensity of his touch making your whole body tremble.

“you’re so tight,” he murmurs, breath hot against your thigh. “do you like the way i’m making you feel?”

“yes, eren,” you whimper, voice filled with need. “don’t stop, please.”

“i won’t,” he grins, fingers kissing your cervix as they moved even faster. “i want to hear you scream my name when you come.”

eren’s fingers were so damn deep inside you it made you cry out.

it didn’t help that he’d attached his lips back to your swollen clit, teasing you with every flick of his tongue.

"o-oh gosh!" you moan in pleasure as your hips buck to meet his fingers. if you’d seen the way eren’s face was covered in your juices, you would’ve been embarrassed, but in the heat of the moment, all you could focus on was the intense pleasure.

eren slowed his pace, finger fucking you gently. your cries complemented by the squelching sounds from your wet heat. his eyes never leaving your face.

“you like when i fuck you with my fingers?” eren husks. you nod your head, unable to find your voice. a loud smack echoing through the air as his hand thunders across your thigh, sending a jolt of pleasure and pain through your body.

“use your words like a big girl.”

"y-yes, i like it when you use your fingers," you whimper, rocking your hips desperately against his hand. eren grins at the sweet quiver in your voice as he curves his fingers inside of you, hitting that perfect spot that made you see stars.

your moans were so fucking pretty.

shit, everything about you is pretty to eren. he loves the way your body responds to his touch, the way your eyes flutter shut in ecstasy.

“you so fuckin’ wet, you needed this, huh?”

"y-yes, mhgm," you cry out, his long fingers reaching every corner of your walls, driving you crazy. with his tongue playing over your clit and his fingers pumping into you, you felt that familiar sensation build in your stomach, a tight coil ready to snap. your body trembled, teetering on the edge of release, completely at his mercy.

eren’s pace increased, his fingers moving faster and his tongue swirling around your clit with renewed vigor. the pleasure was overwhelming, your vision blurred as you felt the coil in your stomach tighten even more. your breathing becoming ragged as you felt your climax approaching rapidly.

“clenching my fingers so good,” eren murmured against your clit, his voice sending vibrations through your core. that was all it took to push you over the edge. your body convulsing as the orgasm ripped through you, waves of pleasure crashing over you. you cried out eren’s name, hands gripping the sheets as you rode out the intense high.

eren moaned into your pussy, making sure he ate you through your climax, his tongue flicking and swirling with precision. the intense pleasure brought tears to your eyes, your vision blurring once again as you were overwhelmed by the sensation.

“fuck!” you gasp out as eren continues devouring you, his lips and tongue relentless on your sensitive clit, making it tingle and throb. you put your hands in front of your poor clit, trying to shield it from the overwhelming stimulation, prompting eren to deliver another hard smack on the side of your thigh.

“move it.” he demands, voice low and commanding.

shaking, you remove your hands.

eren didn’t stop, his fingers and tongue continuing their relentless assault, prolonging your orgasm until you were a trembling, panting mess. finally, he slows down, gently easing his fingers out of you and placing soft kisses on your inner thighs.

he looks up at you, his face glistening with your juices, a satisfied grin on his lips. “you’re so beautiful when you come,” his voice filled with adoration. he crawls up your body, wrapping his familiar inked arms around you and pulling you into a comforting embrace.

you huff tiredly, sitting up and pressing your lips against his, tasting yourself on his lips. eren groans as you slide your tongue against his, hands tugging his shirt over his head. eren was an avid fitness junkie, and his sculpted body told that story. his muscles well-defined, each one a testament to his dedication.

“stare any longer and i’ll charge,” eren teases, his voice laced with humor. you rolled your eyes playfully, unable to hide your admiration.

“lay back, i wanna try something,” you instruct, your voice filled with anticipation. eren eagerly nods, watching as you tug his pants off and toss them aside followed by his boxers. his eyes are filled with curiosity and desire, his body ready for whatever you had in mind.

you swallowed hard as you watch pre-cum glisten on his pink tip.

"someone's happy to see me," you laugh. eren flashes a smile. his muscles tensing slightly, the veins in his arms more pronounced as he leaned back on his elbows,giving you full access. your heart raced, the anticipation building as you moved closer, your breath hitching at the sight of him so ready and eager.

a soft mumble of your name falls from his lips as you glide his dick between your titties, pressing them together as you slide up him vertically. his breath hitches, his eyes fluttering shut momentarily as the warmth and softness of your breasts envelop him.

you can feel the heat radiating from his body, his muscles tensing further under your touch. each movement is slow and deliberate, creating a delicious friction that has him groaning in pleasure.

his hands grip the dirt, knuckles turning white as he tries to hold back, but the look of pure ecstasy on his face tells you he’s close to losing control.

his hips begin to move on their own, thrusting gently as you continue to slide up and down. you can see the desperation in his eyes, the way his jaw clenches as he fights to keep cool. his breathing grows ragged, each exhale a mix of a groan and your name.

"you feel amazing," he manages to gasp, his voice thick with need. his leaking tip coats your tits, making each glide smoother and more intense.

you pick up the pace, feeling the tension build in his body.

“does it make you wanna cum seeing me stroke your dick like this?” your voice dripping with seduction.

eren nods, face scrunching in pleasure when you focus on his tip.

“use your words, for me?”

“ugh fuck,” he drawls out deeply. “y-yes.”

each time you slide down him, his stomach clenches tightly, and the soft sound of skin against skin dulls his senses, driving him deeper into a haze of pleasure.

his breathing becomes more erratic, each breath a shallow gasp that escapes his lips. the sensation is overwhelming, each movement sending shivers down his spine.

you can feel his body trembling beneath you, his toes curling with every stroke. eren sits up now, his hands gripping your hair in a clenched first, as if trying to anchor himself in the moment.

“d-doing so good,” eren whines, watching your big tits envelop his dick, they’re covered in pre-cum and the sight makes him even harder.

how the fuck do you look so innocent?

your eyes, wide and seemingly naive, betray a hidden intensity as they lock onto his. each deliberate movement of your tits, slow and teasing, sends waves of pleasure through him, making it hard for him to think straight.

your lip, caught between your teeth, adds an edge of raw desire to your expression, making it clear that you know exactly what you're doing. the contrast between your innocent appearance and your skilled, confident actions creates a tantalizing tension that drives him wild.

the slick feel of your skin against his is almost too much to bear, and he can barely keep himself from losing control. the sensation is electric, each touch sending jolts of pleasure through his body.

his breathing becomes heavy, and he struggles to maintain his composure. every movement, every brush of your skin against his, pushes him closer to the edge. the intensity of the moment is overwhelming, making it nearly impossible for him to hold back.

“you wanna cum on my face?”

“yes—fuck, yes.”

eren's whole body is on fire, every nerve alive with sensation. his mind is a haze of pleasure, unable to focus on anything other than the exquisite torment you're putting him through.

he hates how quickly he's losing control, but at the same time, he craves more of it—more of you. the way you touch him, the way you know exactly how to push him to his limits, it's intoxicating. and as the pleasure builds to an unbearable peak, he knows there's no turning back.

his hands, once clutching the sheets in a desperate attempt to anchor himself, now hold your hair, pulling, a silent plea for more.

the intensity of his desire is palpable, a raw and unfiltered need that consumes him entirely. he can barely form coherent thoughts, let alone words, but his body speaks for him, responding to your every touch with an urgency that leaves no room for doubt.

as the crescendo of pleasure reaches its peak, eren's moans grow louder, more desperate. his body trembles, teetering on the edge of release.

every fiber of his being is focused on you, on the sensations you're eliciting from him. and then, with a final, shuddering gasp, he comes undone completely, his body convulsing in the throes of ecstasy.

ropes of him string your face as you continue stroking, determined to milk him dry.

"m-my tip is so sensitive... fuck," eren mewls, his thighs shaking uncontrollably.

the sight of him, so vulnerable and overwhelmed makes you throb. you finally pull your hands away and eren lets out a breathy shit.

“you’re amazing.” he grins, grabbing his shirt and cleaning your face off. you shrug, “i know.”

“don’t get cocky!”

“too late.” you giggle.

“mm, we’ll see about that when i’m fucking you.”

before you can react, eren has you in doggy-style, his hands spreading your cheeks as he eats your ass. his warm breath and skilled tongue send shivers down your spine, “s-shit!” you bury your face in your arms, arching into his face.

“oh god,” you hiss as eren swiftly rolls his hips into you, burying himself at your hilt. he can’t help but clench his jaw at how fucking tight you are, he wants nothing more than to fuck your sweet hole until you’re gushing with his cum but he refrains.

he’s so damn thick your pussy burns and throbs at the unfamiliar stretch, “you’re so big,” you whine.

“mhm, taking me so well,” eren praises, kneading your ass between his fingers. you began to loosen up around him and he takes that as his que, hands gripping your hips as he rolls his hips into you fluidly.

airy curses tumble from your lips as eren pounds into your pussy, the sound of your ass riveting against his stomach disrupting the serene atmosphere.

“fuckkk,” eren groans, watching as your greedy pussy suckles at his thick cock. you’re so fucking wet, the slight gush as eren continually rocks his hips a testament of that.

your soft moans are like music to his ears, each whine and grunt spurring him to fuck you deeper. “h-harder!” you demand, hands neededly gripping the fabric underneath you. a loud cry fumbles from your lips as eren cracks his hand against your ass.

“ask nicely princess.” he grunts, voice thick with desire.

“mm, please ren. fuck my pussy harder.”

“your wish is my command,” eren latches a hand around the back of your neck to brace himself, hips snapping into you with inhumane speeds.

"you like getting your pussy ravaged like this?" eren hums, his hand squeezing your throat harder, causing you to let out a soft moan. each powerful thrust and the grip on your neck overwhelms you with ecstasy, eyes clenching shut tightly as you jerk forward with each motion.

“y-yes,”

eren’s breath is hot against your ear as he leans down, latching his hand around the front of your neck. “you’re so beautiful like this." his words send shivers down your spine, heightening the sensation of every movement. you can barely think, lost in the overwhelming mix of pleasure and intensity. the air feels electric, every touch and sound magnified as you both move together, completely in sync.

“you hear her talking to me?” you shiver as you feel his cold silver chain against your back, lips pressing an array of kisses along your spine.

“look at you, getting so wet for me,” he whines, and you want to cum right then and there. you love his moans; a mixture of breathy and whininess that you can’t get enough of.

cream coats eren’s dick, building on his base and sticking to his pubes. his thumb rimming your asshole before he pushed it in.

“it’s okay, baby. relax,” his voice soft as you tense.

“oh eren,” you squeak, his hips jolting against your ass as he fucks you even faster, thumb stretching out your asshole.

both your holes being filled has your stomach flipping. eren fucking you wildly. he would pull himself out, leaving just his tip. then ram himself all the way back into you, a queef leaving your pussy each time.

his fingers dig into your skin as he thrusts deeper. the sound of skin slapping mingling with your moans and his grunts. every movement sends waves of pleasure through your body, making you feel like you’re on the edge of ecstasy.

“gonna fill you up soon,” eren mutters, voice strained. you can feel the tension building inside you, ready to snap at any moment. eren’s pace quickens, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he chased his own release.

“i’m close,” you gasp, your body trembling with anticipation. eren responds with a deep, guttural moan, his movements growing even more intense. the pressure inside you reached its peak, and with a final, powerful thrust, you both tumbled over the edge together, lost in the overwhelming sensation of pleasure.

“cummin’ cummin’!” tears fall from your eyes as the hot sensation of eren’s cum fills your pussy, spilling out dripping onto the blanket.

“ughhhhh,” eren shudders, “m not done with you yet sweetheart.”

before you know it eren has you in missionary, you watch with half-lidded eyes as he lines himself up with your creampied pussy. hissing as he pushes into your wet entrance. your moans synchronized, and you arch your back in pleasure. his hands lock onto yours, holding them above your head. his thrust are slow yet deep. moaning softly you wrap your legs around him, driving him further.

eren wants to climax immediately, seeing your fucked out face. your eyebrows furrowed, swollen lips caught between your teeth, chest bouncing with each thrust of his hips.

“so pretty,” he mumbles, pressing sweet kisses onto your face. your stomach churns as he continues rolling his hips into you, tip prodding at your cervix.

“open your eyes and look at me while i fuck you like this,” he rasps, the sounds of your wetness filling his ears. your eyes flutter open to look at him. his lips are swollen from the shared kisses, jaw clenched in pleasure, a thin layer of sweat covering his skin. you yearn to release each time his chain swings across your face, but resist.

his eyes seem to glow as you locked gazes with him.

"you’re so gorgeous," he whispers, sending chills through your body. you can feel a knot tightening in your stomach again. “gna’ cum again baby,” you whine, eren gripping your thighs and them for better leverage.

“ah-fuck!” you sob out as the new angle, his length hitting directly into your g-spot.

he continues hitting that spot until the knot in your stomach finally releases. you sob in pleasure, squirting. he waste no time pulling out and smacking his length against your sensitive clit, urging you to let it out.

“mhm, love this shit.”

the two of you lay in a puddle of your fluids, but eren doesn’t care. he pushes back into you groaning as your walls convuls around him.

you sense he was near climax as his eyes shut tightly, you cup his face as his thrusts become more erratic.

“that’s it, cum for me handsome.”

and that was all it took.

with a loud moan, eren withdrew and rapidly pumped his shaft, releasing hot jets of cum onto your belly. his blissful cries echoing as his muscular frame tightened in release.

“fuckkkkk,” he whines, shaking.

the breeze is cool as you’re cuddled up beside eren, your naked legs intertwined. the world around you feels calm and serene, and you can't help but wish that life could always be this simple. eren's fingers gently dig into your frizzy curls, massaging your scalp with tenderness.

“you’re my girlfriend now,” he murmurs, his voice firm yet filled with affection. “i won’t take no for an answer.”

you look up at him, everything feels perfect, and you can't imagine being anywhere else but here, in his arms.

[strawberries-and-summer-days]

clarisse la rue x reader where the reader and clarisse are bsfs and reader is being bullied by a couple of aphrodite girls, and clarisse find out and flips out then clarisse confesses :))) i love your writing!!

THATS MY BEST FRIEND....RIGHT? . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

pairing: clarisse la rue x iris!fem!reader

warnings: swearing, violence (mentions of physical assault - clarisse calling the girls out), teenagers being bitches and calling ppl names

a/n: this was soo cute to write omg. this also would've been out sooner but then tumblr shut down before i had the chance to save it 😭

if you walked up to any camper and asked them which two campers were best friends every single on of them would go clarisse and y/n.

it was like a second nature to them by now.

clarisse a daughter of ares and y/n a daughter of iris. not the most likely duo, but you fit. you clicked in a way you hadn't with anyone else.

you were the only person who could talk clarisse down when she was worked up. and she was the only person who could break through to you when you were lost in your world of paints and colors.

you had first met clarisse your third week at camp. you were sitting in the stands watching campers spar - well watching was a stretch, you were actually painting - and clarisse had finished up with the camper she was fighting. she had walked up the stands and plopped straight down next to you with a huge grin on her face. it had been almost irresistible to not look back up at her with a matching smile.

that was the first time someone had ever managed to pull you away from your paintings. it wasn't the last.

from then on you and clarisse had practically been inseparable. you were the camp's unofficial official bsf's.

clarisse.

your mind often drifts to clarisse when you paint. her soft skin, curly luscious hair, and adorable smile. they constantly popped into your mind - it was hard not to paint something clarisse related honestly.

"hey you." a presence drops beside you on the grass.

"hi," you offer softly, looking up from your painting which surprise surprise was a painting of clarisse.

"ooh i like this one," she says pointing at the now dry canvas - how long were you staring at it?? "it really brings out my eyes."

you dip your head blushing. "uh thanks."

"hey," clarisse says tilting your head up. "don't be embarrassed. i love it. its one hundred percent going with my collection." her gentle touch sends tingles through your skin and causes you to blush even more.

she grins and picks up the painting, "im gonna put it with the others in my cabin, i'll be right back." clarisse picks the painting up not even listening to your protests of how its technically not finished and races off to her cabin.

you sit the and pull out another canvas, determined to not paint clarisse twice in one morning, its happened before.

"look at the ugly ass painter and her little canvas," a sneer comes from in front of you. you don't hear them already lost in your world of paints.

"what shit painting are you doing now?"

you still don't hear them. the only way you could notice their presence was the shadow above you - but again you're still wrapped in a world of colors merging and dancing over the canvas.

you're painting a bouquet of wildflowers. the colors blending perfectly together. you're immensely happy with they ways its turning out but then voices start to break through your haze.

"hey bitch? are you ignoring me?"

"art slut? did you hear me? that's the ugliest thing ever and i'm not talking about the painting."

a hand whips across your face and someone rips you away from the painting. "you in there art bitch?" you finally notice the four aphrodite girls standing in front of your.

the same four girls have been terrorising you for months. and they're careful, never coming up to you whenever clarisse is around. right now? perfect example.

two hands grip you arms to keep you back and the main girl, ellie, steps forward picking up your painting and a handful of dirt.

"NO!" you shriek lurching forward.

"what you don't like my improvements? i made it match. the dirt is the same color of this shit." she looks at you with malice. "and for the final touch," she stabs a nearby stick straight through ripping the painting to shreds.

tears are springing to you eyes.

your painting. YOUR PAINTING.

"aww are you crying?" ellie smirks and then steps forward picking your paints up and pouring them straight onto you. she steps forward and smears it across you writing slut and bitch across your front. you try and squirm as the second girl steps forward with handfuls of dirt and sprinkles it over you.

tears are freely streaming down your face now and you slump, the fight leaving you quickly.

"WHAT THE FUCK?" a loud voice booms behind you all.

the four girls freeze, letting you go.

you fall forwards a sob escaping your mouth at the sight of your painting.

your painting.

"what the ever loving hell are you doing?" clarisse's voice is deadly calm and she stalks towards y/n collapsed on the ground.

the aphrodite girls all step back from you and clarisse takes a single step forward. "we weren't doing anything!" the two who were holding you say panicked.

"no you were doing something," clarisse stalks closer the girls back pedalling in fear. "you were holding my best friend back while those two bitches assaulted her."

"we weren't assaulting her!" the girl beside ellie shrieks. "it was just a joke!"

"you one hundred were assaulting her." clarisse points to you. "does this look like someone who thinks its a joke?"

"well if she wasn't such a bitch and listened to me the first time i talked we wouldn't have had to," ellie seethes.

clarisse snaps.

she practically flies on top of the girls - and yes girls, plural. clarisse crash tackles ellie and the other girl to the ground sending punches to their faces. "motherfucking bitches," she spits and she yanks on a handful of hair.

shrieks and cries come from the girls causing campers to come over and watch the scene unfold. now look, you're not exactly an extremely popular camper, but everyone knows you and likes you, your sweet to nearly everybody you meet so when they see you on the ground covered in paint and dirt, their surprised looks turn into egging clarisse on to get a better hit. some other ares kids join in happy to put some bitchy aphrodites back in their place.

your siblings gasp in unison when they see you helping you off the ground and picking up the strewn paint bottles and shredded painting sending death glares that hades would be proud of.

"why is this such a big deal?" ellie laughs from beneath clarisse. "you act like you're in love with her."

"of course i am!" clarisse all but roars sending more punches into her. only stopping when several of her siblings hauled her off ellie because chiron and mr d had shown up.

they both - well chiron - looked at you with sympathetic eyes telling your siblings to help you get cleaned up and to lay down for a while.

you didn't hear them. you didn't hear anything but clarisse's voice.

you act like you're in love with her.

of course i am.

of course i am.

of course i am.

you couldn't think of anything else as you showered, washing away the paint, dirt and tears. you didn't think of anything else when your siblings guided you back into your cabin and into bed. you didn't think of anything else as you fell asleep.

you didn't think of anything else until you felt the mattress dip next to you, a warm hand stroking your forehead, stirring you from your sleep.

"hey you," clarisse smiles down at you.

"hi," you whisper.

"today's been shit huh?" she looks down at you with concern.

"yeah..."

"how are you feeling?"

"better," you smile gently, it fades when you work up the nerve to say. "hey about earlier-"

"i'm sorry for flipping out," clarisse says. "its just that she was saying all that shit about you, and i hated it, you looked so broken and small on the ground and i, just snapped, im so sorry, really, i am. i shouldn't have done that without checking on you first but i knew if i did that, that bitch was going to get away with it. im so so sorry, y/n. please forg-" you cut her off in a moment of boldness sitting up and placing a kiss on the corner of her mouth.

clarisse sits there stunned, her mouth slightly gapes open and you smile at her.

"did you mean it?" you ask hoping she understand you were talking about her earlier 'of course i am' outbreak.

she closes her mouth and nods speaking softly, in a nervous way. "yeah, i meant it."

"good. because i feel the same way."

clarisse lights up at that, a huge grin spreading across her face. "really?"

"really."

you intertwine your hands together grateful then that the cabin was empty - clarisse probably cleared it out when she came to visit. you'd never admit this to her, but quiet a few of your siblings are scared of her.

you grin back at her and pull her face down to connect with yours feeling the colors explode into the world, light dancing around the two of you in a beautiful circle.

maybe today hasn't been too bad after all.

a/n: unedited! this made me giggle and smile wayyyy to much lmao

©strawberries-and-summer-days please do not steal, use or repost my works.

[darielivalyen]

Eldritch Tales: Inheritance [WIP]

Eldritch Tales: Inheritance is a cosmic horror game with elements of romance, set in a Gothic manor. You and your high school friends are reunited after five years by a mysterious letter, and through this letter, you inherit an old Gothic manor and a substantial fortune.

There is only one condition: you must live in the manor together.

As you arrive at Blackthorn Manor, strange, unsettling events begin to unfold. Shadows move on their own, nights are unnaturally dark, and the atmosphere grows increasingly tense. The manor is full of secrets, and the more you learn, the less you seem to understand.

Play as male, female, or nonbinary.

Customize your appearance, personality, and sexuality.

Romance or befriend a wealthy and carefree playboy, a no-nonsense scientist, a disciplined and protective ex-soldier, or a sweet and free-spirited artist.

Manage your relationships, or face unforeseen consequences.

Pay attention to your sanity and health, or…don’t.

Search for clues, solve puzzles, and learn the truth behind your inheritance.

Discover hidden rooms, secret passages, and eldritch artifacts.

Confront moral dilemmas, and be careful as they may have far-reaching consequences.

Face randomized events that will keep each playthrough unique.

Experience multiple endings based on your choices and actions.

What darkness does Blackthorn Manor conceal, and how will it affect your fate? Can you uncover the truth and survive, or will the manor’s sinister influence consume you all?

TYLER REYNOLDS

Personality: Tyler exudes a confident, carefree spirit that's both alluring and slightly unnerving. He enjoys the present and isn't too concerned with the future.

Background: Born into wealth, Tyler has always enjoyed privilege and opulence. While his party-going ways have quieted recently, he still often boasts about his family's status.

Physical description: Tyler is tall and lean with an athletic build. He has dirty blonde hair, hazel eyes, and a preppy yet sophisticated style. He is fond of loafers and owns over two hundred pairs.

Smell: Tyler's scent is a blend of citrus and musk.

CALEB MITCHELL

Personality: Caleb is disciplined and protective, with a dry sense of humor shaped by his military background. Despite his rugged exterior, he dreams of a peaceful life.

Background: A former soldier, Caleb has spent the last couple of years doing different security jobs. His protective nature extends to his younger sister Julia, with whom he shares a close bond.

Physical description: Caleb is tall and muscular with a rugged appearance. He has a dark brown undercut, deep brown eyes, and perpetual stubble. His style is casual and rugged.

Smell: Caleb smells of cedarwood, with hints of amber.

JULIA MITCHELL

Personality: Julia is a no-nonsense individual who values efficiency and clarity. Her methodical approach to problems contrasts with her puzzlement at overly emotional responses.

Background: Julia has a deep passion for science, excelling in engineering and physics. Her cross-disciplinary focus defines her academic and professional journey.

Physical description: Julia is of medium height with a lean physique. She has neck-long black hair, deep brown eyes, and wears stylish glasses. Her style is Parisian chic.

Smell: Julia smells of lavender, with hints of paper and ink.

LUNA HARPER

Personality: Luna is a free spirit, and her vibrant personality is reflected in her artwork. Her infectious optimism and innocent humor reveal a soul untouched by cynicism.

Background: An eclectic artist, Luna finds solace in her paintbrush and palette. She embraces all sorts of spirituality and has a deep love for crystals.

Physical description: Luna is petite and has an ethereal presence. She has long platinum-blonde hair with pink highlights, and green eyes, and loves the bohemian style.

Smell: Luna smells of patchouli and sandalwood, with floral notes reminiscent of wildflowers.

DEMO | FORUM | PINTEREST | TUMBLR | KO-FI

[nayziiz]

Forever | CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader (she her)

Author's note: Very short, but very soft.

Masterlist

The sun began to set, casting a warm golden tint over the sprawling vineyard that stretched out like a lush, green ocean. The air was filled with the sweet fragrance of blooming roses and lavender, mingling with the rich aroma of oak barrels from the nearby winery. Fairy lights twinkled overhead, strung between the towering olive trees, creating a canopy of stars that shimmered against the dusky sky. 

Guests mingled and laughed, their voices a pleasant hum that blended with the gentle strumming of a guitar from the live band positioned near the rustic, wooden dance floor. The band, dressed in casual, bohemian attire, played a melodic tune that invited everyone to sway and move to its rhythm, including the bridal pair, Pierre and Kika. Elegant tables draped in crisp white linens were scattered around, each adorned with delicate floral centrepieces and flickering candles. A long, beautifully decorated table stood at the heart of the venue, laden with an array of gourmet dishes and fine wines, reflecting the celebratory spirit of the occasion.

Charles stood at the edge of the dance floor, a glass of champagne in hand, his eyes fixed on the centre of the activity. There, illuminated by the soft, warm glow of the lights, was his partner, dancing with carefree abandon. The music seemed to flow through her, her movements fluid and graceful, her laughter a bright, contagious melody that added to the joy of the evening. She wore a flowing, navy dress with a slight glitter to it that caught the light with every twirl, the fabric rippling like water. Her hair, adorned with a wreath of wildflowers, cascaded down her back in loose waves. There was a radiance about her, a pure, unfiltered joy that made her stand out to him among the other guests. Her smile, wide and genuine, was the kind that made anyone who saw it smile too, spreading happiness like ripples in a pond.

Charles watched her, his heart swelling with love and pride. She moved effortlessly from dance partner to dance partner, drawing everyone into her orbit, making them feel like they were the only person in the world at that moment. Her energy was infectious, her spirit indomitable. It was moments like these that reminded him why he had fallen in love with her – her ability to find joy in the simplest of things and to share that joy with everyone around her, even at their friends’ wedding.

He took a sip of his champagne, savouring the crisp, bubbly liquid as he continued to observe her. She caught his eye and her face lit up even more, if that was possible. She beckoned him with a playful wave, her eyes sparkling with mischief and love. Charles couldn’t help but grin back, feeling the warmth of her gaze wash over him. He set down his glass and made his way towards her, weaving through the clusters of guests. As he reached her, she took his hand and pulled him into the dance, her laughter ringing out like music to his ears. He spun her around, the world narrowing to just the two of them amidst the joyful chaos of the wedding celebration.

They moved together, in perfect harmony, their steps synchronised like a practised dance. Charles held her close, feeling the beat of her heart against his chest, matching his own. The world faded away, and for a moment, it was just the two of them under the canopy of stars and fairy lights.

“How long is forever?” he wondered aloud, his voice a soft murmur against the backdrop of laughter and music.

“Huh?” she asked, tilting her head slightly, her brows knitting together in confusion. She had been so lost in the moment, twirling in his arms, that his sudden question caught her off guard.

“How long do you think forever is?” he repeated, his gaze drifting towards a newlywed couple dancing nearby. “They promised to love each other forever, so how long is forever?” 

His eyes, filled with curiosity and a hint of vulnerability, returned to hers. She chuckled softly, shaking her head as she studied his face.

“Are you having some existential crisis, baby?” she teased. There was a playful glint in her eyes, but she could see that his question was genuine, not just a passing thought.

“I'm just curious,” he said, a slight shrug accompanying his words. He looked down, his thumb gently tracing circles on the back of her hand.

“I think forever is everything and more,” she began, her voice thoughtful and tender. “It's not just a timeframe, but all the small moments in between. The laughter, the tears, the joy, the sadness, the anger, the patience, the kindness, the forgiveness. It's how even when you're both long gone, your story will still be told and sung, swept away in the wind, etched in the Milky Way, so no one could ever forget it.”

He listened intently, her words resonating deep within him.

“Mmh,” he murmured, letting the weight of her words settle in his heart.

“What? Is that too philosophical for you?” she asked, a hint of concern in her voice.  He shook his head, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“I think that's exactly what forever is for us,” he replied, his voice filled with a quiet certainty. “You know I'd love you forever and a day.”

“And I'd love you forever and a day, too, baby,” she whispered, her eyes shining with love. She leaned in, their foreheads touching, and in that intimate space, the promise of forever felt as real and as tangible as the stars twinkling above them.

As the song came to an end, she rested her head on his shoulder, her breath warm against his neck. Charles kissed the top of her head, closing his eyes, letting the moment etch itself into his memory. It was a beautiful evening, a perfect celebration of love, and as he held her in his arms, he knew that this was just the beginning of their lifelong dance together.

[exitroute]

Photographer Kevin McDermott's CASE STUDY series is new ongoing series of coffee-table books focusing on an individual model. The second volume of this new series focuses on the ruggedly handsome Matthew Dubbe. CASE STUDY | MATTHEW DUBBE is a 56 page hard-cover book of nudes bound in linen featuring a tipped-in photograph on the cover.

This edition of the CASE STUDY series captures the raw rugged beauty and sense of serenity of the California desert including Joshua Tree and Wonder Valley in 29 Palms.  We also travel to the rustic mountain wilderness of Idyllwild, California with its blooming wildflowers and towering trees along the summit of the San Jacinto Mountains. These photographs bring to mind the retro sensibilities of 1970s Colt Studios and the various Californian male photography guild images of the '50s and '60s. The images are nudes and are completely uncensored. 

A note from Matthew: " When Kevin and I first started working together,  I immediately felt a level of comfort and mutual understanding between the two of us.  As we began talking about creating this project, I was certain it would be a perfect match. I think that ease surely comes across in the images we've made. My friends love to tease me about being born in the wrong era. I love all things 60s and 70s. I believe this book is an ideal blend of the beautiful scenery of California with a touch of my own retro aesthetic.  It felt so good collaborating with Kevin to create images that are truly a reflection of who I am. I really hope you enjoy this book!" 

CASE STUDY | MATTHEW DUBBE | Pre-Order

[minhosbitterriver]

──── *ੈ♡⸝⸝ THROUGH MY EYES ( newjeans )

❛ In a quiet moment beneath the shade of an oak tree, you and Hyein discover the depth of your love for each other through a heartfelt drawing that captures the beauty you see in Hyein’s soul, leading to your first tender confessions.

𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐡𝐲𝐞𝐢𝐧 + female reader ೯ ( 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 )

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.9k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 11 mins

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ Here's another wonderful request made by @dgybbvrcsacgswtcbkyv! I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! Requests are currently open! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Non-Idol AU, High School AU, insecurities and self-esteem issues, mild anger, brief crying, two school girls in love, let me know if I missed anything!

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ) ( 𝐭𝐢𝐩 𝐣𝐚𝐫 )

The late afternoon sun lingers low in the sky, casting a warm, honeyed glow over the park. Its golden light filters through the thick canopy of leaves above, creating a dappled pattern that dances gently on the ground beneath the sprawling oak tree where you and Hyein have settled. A soft breeze stirs the branches, carrying with it the fresh scent of grass mingled with the faint sweetness of wildflowers blooming nearby. The air feels alive with the gentle promise of twilight, a perfect blend of warmth and coolness that makes everything seem to slow down, inviting a quiet moment of reflection.

You and Hyein, still in your school uniforms, occupy a well-worn wooden bench that has become your chosen spot for the afternoon. Your bags are carelessly tossed on the ground beside you, forgotten for now. Hyein sits with one leg tucked beneath her, her back resting against the bench’s armrest, giving her posture a laid-back elegance. Her school blouse is slightly untucked, a small rebellion against the neatness expected within classroom walls. The sleeves of her crisp, white shirt are rolled up to her elbows, revealing slender arms that are now comfortably exposed to the cooling air. Her tie hangs loosely around her neck, a simple gesture that hints at the relief of finally being free from the day’s structured demands. Her plaid skirt is carefully smoothed over her legs, creating soft pleats that fall in tidy lines. On her lap, her sketchpad rests, her pencil hovering uncertainly above the paper as she contemplates the self-portrait assigned by your art teacher, her brow furrowed in concentration.

Beside her, you sit close, your own school blazer draped over the back of the bench, as if marking your shared territory. Your sketchbook leans against your knee, pages already filled with faint outlines and shadows as you work on your own portrait. Your tie remains knotted around your neck, though it has shifted slightly askew from the day's wear, giving you a slightly disheveled look. Every so often, your eyes drift from your drawing to Hyein's face, watching the way the sun caresses her features. The light catches the delicate curve of her cheekbones, casting soft shadows that emphasize the natural beauty in her expression. Strands of her hair, gently tousled by the breeze, frame her face in a way that makes her seem almost ethereal, like a subject from an old painting.

Between the two of you rests a small pocket mirror, perched precariously on the bench. It's a shared tool, held between the brief pauses as you both glance into its reflective surface, examining your own faces with analytical intent before returning to the delicate lines of your portraits. The mirror catches the sun at certain angles, sending tiny flecks of light dancing around you, adding to the atmosphere of quiet intimacy.

Around you, the park is alive with the gentle sounds of a late afternoon drifting toward evening. The leaves rustle softly above, their movement creating a soothing, whispering melody. In the distance, the high-pitched laughter of children playing reaches your ears, mingling with the occasional chirp of birds hidden among the branches. Nearby, a small stream gurgles over smooth stones, its waters sparkling under the sun’s fading rays, creating a soft, calming background melody that weaves through the other sounds like a thread of tranquility. Occasionally, a few families or students from your school pass by on the gravel path, but their presence is like a distant hum—momentary and insignificant compared to the bubble of serenity you and Hyein have created around yourselves.

In this golden hour, time seems to stretch and bend, and you find yourselves lost in this quiet corner of the world, where every small detail becomes a story, every breath a shared moment of peace.

Hyein's usual bright expression seems dimmed today, like a cloud passing over the sun. As you sit side by side, sketching in the warm afternoon light, you notice her growing quieter, her brows knitting together in a frown of concentration—or perhaps something deeper. Her pencil hovers uncertainly over the page, and she has been staring at her sketch for what feels like too long. You can't help but watch her from the corner of your eye, a sense of concern tightening in your chest as you pick up on the faint tension in her posture, the way her movements have lost their usual fluidity. It's as if a storm is brewing beneath her surface, and you're close enough to feel its subtle tremors.

Moments pass, and you see the frustration begin to well up within her. Her lips press into a thin line, her grip on the pencil tightening as if she's trying to hold back a wave of emotion. Then, almost without warning, the dam breaks. Her hand moves with a sudden, furious energy, and the once-delicate lines of her sketch are obliterated by harsh, jagged strokes. The pencil becomes a weapon, each slash cutting across the page in a frenzy. The soft contours of what was supposed to be her self-portrait are lost beneath a chaotic lattice of dark, aggressive lines—an explosion of raw emotion laid bare in graphite.

The sound of the pencil's sharp edge scraping against the paper is grating, almost violent. You flinch, startled by the intensity of her actions, the suddenness of her discontent erupting into a crescendo that seems to scar the very essence of her drawing. The erratic marks dig deep into the paper, a physical manifestation of her inner turmoil, each stroke bolder and darker than the last. It's as if she's not just covering the image of her face but trying to erase something deeper—something that words alone cannot touch. Finally, with a sigh that trembles at the edges, she drops the pencil, her shoulders slumping as her eyes lower to the mangled sketch in her lap.

You’ve been watching her with furrowed brows and eyes full of concern, unable to ignore the heaviness settling between you. "Hey, what's wrong? It was looking pretty good!" you offer gently, trying to coax a smile from her, but your words seem to fall flat.

Hyein turns away slightly, her profile guarded, as if shielding herself from your gaze. "I don't know..." she murmurs, so quietly that you have to lean in closer to catch her words. "Sometimes I just feel...I feel like I don't measure up."

Hearing this, you feel a pang in your chest. Setting the pocket mirror that had been resting between you on top of your sketchbook, you shift it all aside to scoot closer to her. Gently, you drape an arm around her shoulders and use your free hand to softly guide her face back toward yours. When you see her eyes brimming with unshed tears, your heart aches, confusion swirling within you as you try to piece together what could be making her feel this way. "Babe," you begin softly, your voice a tender whisper, "What do you mean you feel like you 'don't measure up'? I mean, look at me—I’m no Frida Kahlo. I’m kind of a mess, really. So, there’s no way your self-portrait could be worse than mine."

Your attempt to lighten the mood is met with a small, huffed-out chuckle from her, but her gaze drops again, her fingers fidgeting with her skirt in her lap. "It's not about my obviously superior art skills," she mumbles, a weak smile tugging at her lips. You let out a soft giggle at her attempt at humor, but your face quickly returns to its earlier expression of concern.

Hyein sighs again, the sound almost embarrassed, and her voice becomes quieter, as if she's confessing something she finds foolish. "I just...it’s so stupid, but I feel like I don’t look good...like, at all." She glances away, her words lingering in the space between you, heavy with vulnerability.

You pause, leaning in slightly, trying to catch her eyes and understand the meaning behind her words. "What do you mean?" you ask softly, a hint of confusion threading through your voice. You don’t bother hiding the bewilderment anymore; instead, you gently cup her cheek with your hand, thumb tracing delicate circles over her soft skin, hoping to offer some comfort. Yet, there’s a lingering frustration in the air—your failure to grasp her feelings only seems to add to it.

With a sudden surge of emotion, Hyein pushes your hands away, her touch firm but not harsh, and scoots further down the bench, putting distance between you. She crosses her arms tightly over her chest, her posture defensive. Even in her irritation, you can't help but notice the blush rising to her cheeks, a deep, rosy hue of embarrassment spreading like fire. For a moment, she hesitates, her eyes downcast, her fingers fiddling with the edge of her skirt in a nervous dance. Then, almost as if the words had been yanked out of her, she snaps, "I feel ugly, okay?"

Her voice is sharper than you expected, cutting through the afternoon air like a blade, and it takes you by surprise. You blink, momentarily stunned by the harshness of her tone and the weight of her confession. It’s such a rare thing for her to admit; she’s always been the effortlessly confident girl who caught your eye with her carefree spirit and bright energy—the very things that had drawn you to her and made you fall for her.

But as the initial shock fades, a wave of tenderness washes over you. Your heart swells with affection, and a soft smile tugs at your lips. Without thinking, you scoot closer again, your knee brushing against hers. You reach out with both hands, a light giggle escaping your lips as you gently grasp her face, guiding her closer. You press a firm kiss to her forehead, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath your lips. Then, without pause, you move to her nose, planting another gentle kiss there, before finally capturing her lips in a brief, tender kiss that speaks volumes in its simplicity.

When you pull back, your eyes fluttering open, you’re met with her adorable pout. She glares at you weakly, her irritation still lingering, though softened by the corners of her lips threatening to curve upward. There's a mixture of annoyance and reluctant amusement in her eyes, and you can't help but chuckle softly at the sight, finding an undeniable charm in her reaction.

"Love," you begin, your voice a soft murmur, steady yet filled with a raw earnestness. You pause, searching for the right words, though your gaze never wavers from hers—deep, unwavering, and filled with affection. "I wish you could see what I see...I wish you could feel the way my heart squeezes every single time I look at you."

Without giving her time to respond, you let your hands slide from her cheeks to her shoulders, fingers pressing gently but firmly into her skin as if anchoring her to this moment. Your voice, like a gentle breeze weaving through the leaves overhead, carries the weight of every unsaid thought, every unspoken feeling. "Hyein," you continue, each word a carefully placed step forward, "I don’t think you’d be able to handle what you do to my heart whenever your eyes light up while you talk about the things you love. You wouldn't last a day if your knees buckled the way mine do when I hear your laughter. It’s like a melody that always finds a way to brighten my dullest days, so contagious it lingers in the air long after you stop. If only you could see the way your kindness radiates, the way it makes you shine. Sometimes, it almost convinces me that you must be some kind of angel, not just a girl."

As you speak, you watch her closely, noting the way her eyes begin to shimmer with unshed tears. But this time, they aren't tears of frustration or insecurity—there's a smile blooming there, soft and wide, spreading across her face like the first light of dawn. Your words seem to float between you, almost tangible, as if they could reach out and wrap around her, pulling her into your heart.

Even so, a shadow of doubt lingers on her face, her gaze dropping down, her lips trembling between a smile and something more unsure. You can see she's still caught in that place between believing your words and believing her own inner critic. Without another thought, you decide to show her exactly what you mean.

Reaching for your sketchbook, the pages whisper as they turn, the rustle a soft accompaniment to the tender atmosphere. You flip to a blank page and take a deep breath, feeling a rare determination settle within you. You’ve never been one to put much effort into drawing before, but now, you silently plead with whatever gods might be listening, praying to any divine force in this endless universe for a miracle. Just this once, you beg, let me draw something that captures even a fraction of her beauty.

Without another word, you begin. The pencil moves across the page with a certainty you’ve never felt before, your hand guided by something deeper than skill or practice. As you draw, you start to speak again, narrating each careful stroke, each delicate line. "See here," you say softly, "the way your smile curves—it’s not just about the shape, but the warmth it carries. It’s like a quiet promise, like the sun breaking through the clouds after a storm." You glance at her, catching the way her eyes follow each movement of your hand, her curiosity breaking through the last of her hesitation.

"And the way your eyes crinkle at the corners," you continue, your voice a soft, steady rhythm, "like they’re holding some secret joy. It’s more than just a detail; it’s a glimpse into your soul, into all the light you carry inside you." You shade in a section of the drawing, gesturing gently to the lines. "And the light in your hair here, it catches like it’s framing you, like you’re glowing from within."

As you bring her likeness to life, the world around you seems to hold its breath. The rustling of the leaves in the trees above, the distant laughter of children playing nearby—all of it fades into a soft, distant hum, creating a cocoon of quiet intimacy around the two of you. Hyein’s eyes remain fixed on the sketch, her expression softening, her lips parting slightly as she takes it all in, as if she’s finally beginning to see herself through your eyes.

When you finish, you pause, staring down at the drawing in your hands—a surprisingly good sketch that, despite your usual lack of artistic prowess, manages to capture not just her features but the light within her. It reveals the subtle expressions that make her so uniquely beautiful, the quiet moments that often go unnoticed by anyone but you. It’s more than a likeness; it’s a glimpse of her soul, the way you see her through the lens of your own affection.

Turning the sketchbook around, you hold it out to her like a precious offering, your heart pounding in your chest. Her eyes widen, the uncertainty in them shifting to something softer, something almost vulnerable. She studies the drawing intently, her gaze flicking back and forth between the lines and shades that capture the curve of her smile, the light in her eyes. Then, slowly, her eyes lift to meet yours, searching, as if seeking the truth behind your words.

"This is what Lee Hyein looks like through my eyes," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, suddenly shy in the face of your own revelation. You hadn’t realized just how deeply your feelings for her ran until this moment, how much of your heart you’d poured into this drawing. It feels like you’ve handed her a piece of yourself, raw and unfiltered.

For a moment, there is only the soft rustling of leaves above and the distant murmur of the world around you. Then, a small, genuine smile begins to bloom on her lips, delicate and fragile, like the first flower breaking through the snow after a long, cold winter. She leans in closer, her shoulder brushing against yours, warm and familiar. She hesitates, just for a heartbeat, before pressing a tender, electrifying kiss against your cheek.

"I love you," she whispers, her voice trembling with emotion, gratitude, and sincerity, each word weighted with a depth that sends a shiver through you. Your eyes widen slightly, your breath catching in your throat as you realize the significance of her words. This is the first time either of you has said those three sacred words. But Hyein’s expression is steady, unwavering, filled with a quiet certainty.

In that golden hour, under the shade of the old oak tree, time seems to stretch and slow. The world around you softens into a hazy blur of colors and distant sounds, fading away to grant you both this stolen moment of pure, unadulterated connection. It’s as if the universe itself pauses, holding its breath, to witness the spark that ignites between you.

With a surge of bravery, your heart swelling with a newfound courage, you lean in closer, your voice steady and clear despite the wild fluttering in your chest. "I love you, too," you reply, the words falling from your lips like a promise, firm and sure.

And there you sit, side by side, the world reduced to just the two of you. Her head gently comes to rest against your shoulder, and your heartbeats fall into a quiet, rhythmic sync, as if they were always meant to beat in time with each other. In that moment, you both feel like the only two people in the world, wrapped in a warmth that nothing could ever touch.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ My permanent taglist is open! (Click on the link to join! All you have to do is answer a few questions to help me stay organized!)

🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS!

[doodle-pops]

「 ✦˖ ࣪ .♡˚.Princess Treatment˚.♡˖ ࣪ .✦ 」

Headcanon: Curufin, Amras, Turgon, Finafin, Aegnor, Galdor, Rog, Beleg

A/N: I know I had another set of headcanons to post, but those weren’t working out, so I decided to give a second part to the Princess Treatment headcanons I did last year for the same event with other characters.

.𑁍༊˚ Curufin

Curufin’s princess treatment manifests in his attentiveness to your needs, even before you realise them yourself. Whether it's draping his cloak over your shoulders before a chill can touch you or preparing your favorite tea after a long day, he anticipates your desires effortlessly.

As a master craftsman, Curufin creates intricate jewelry for you, each piece personalised and imbued with a story or meaning. His gifts are never random—they reflect moments shared between you two, aspects of your personality that he admires, or even a subtle statement that says “mine”.

When walking together, Curufin is always at your side, guiding you with a firm but gentle hand at the small of your back. He loves the feeling of being your protector and companion, and will silently ensure you’re always safe and comfortable.

If you show the slightest interest in something, whether it be a new skill or hobby, Curufin will subtly arrange for the best teachers or resources to be at your disposal. He takes immense pride in seeing you excel, your happiness fueling his own.

Curufin’s affection is shown through action rather than words, but in private moments, he’ll take your hand and press a kiss to each fingertip, murmuring how much he cherishes you.

.𑁍༊˚ Amras

He loves surprising you with impromptu picnics in secluded forest clearings, where he’s already laid out your favorite treats and brought along a cosy blanket for you both to share.

He’s always thinking of little ways to make your life easier or more enjoyable, whether it's braiding your hair for you in intricate designs or bringing you wildflowers that he tucks behind your ear with a grin.

During your outdoor adventures, Amras takes it upon himself to carry anything you might need, from your extra cloak to your favourite book. He insists that you just enjoy the journey while he handles the rest, finding joy in making sure you’re carefree.

Amras is also fond of crafting little trinkets for you, often made from materials he’s found during your travels together. You’ll receive necklaces of woven grass, rings made of polished stone, and other small tokens that remind you of your shared adventures.

He has a playful side and loves to whisk you away for secret rendezvous under the stars, where he’ll dance with you to the music of the night, his laughter and joy infectious as he spins you around.

.𑁍༊˚ Turgon

Turgon is the epitome of a chivalrous King when it comes to giving you the princess treatment. From the moment you enter a room, his attention is solely on you, making sure every detail of your surroundings is perfect for your comfort and pleasure.

He loves to plan elaborate dates, whether it’s a moonlit stroll through the gardens of Gondolin or a private concert by the city’s finest musicians. Turgon spares no expense in making you feel like royalty, both in private and in public.

You’ll never need to lift a finger in his presence. Turgon insists on serving you himself, whether it’s pouring your wine or cutting your food, all done with a gentle smile and a look that says you’re the most important person in his world.

When you’re feeling down, Turgon will wrap you in the softest blankets and read your favorite books aloud, his deep voice soothing and comforting. He has a talent for making even the most mundane moments feel special and intimate.

His favorite way to express his love is through grand gestures—like commissioning a beautiful mural in the city, depicting a scene of the two of you. He loves to show the world how much you mean to him, and nothing is too extravagant.

.𑁍༊˚ Finarfin

Finarfin treats you with a blend of elegance and heartfelt gestures. He delights in hosting intimate dinners for you, where he meticulously plans every detail—from the finest dishes to the perfect candlelight. He ensures each meal is a celebration of your time together.

He’s deeply attuned to your preferences and often surprises you with carefully chosen gifts, such as a rare book, a delicate piece of jewelry, or a beautiful fabric that you’ve admired. Each gift is accompanied by a personal note expressing his affection.

Finarfin enjoys creating serene moments for you both. Whether it’s arranging a private viewing of a stunning sunset or organizing a quiet afternoon in a secluded garden, he always finds ways to make these experiences feel special and memorable.

When you’re feeling stressed or overwhelmed, Finarfin will create a relaxing atmosphere, complete with soft music and aromatic oils. He’ll gently rub your shoulders or brush your hair, his touch soothing and attentive, ensuring you feel cherished and at ease.

He’s also fond of planning surprise getaways to picturesque locations. Whether it’s a cosy cabin by a lake or a charming village, he’ll organise everything with precision, ensuring you both enjoy a refreshing and delightful escape from everyday life.

.𑁍༊˚ Aegnor

He’s fiercely protective and will often accompany you on walks or errands, his presence a silent but powerful reassurance. If anyone dares to speak ill of you, they’ll quickly find themselves on the receiving end of his cold wrath.

One thing Aegnor never misses is an opportunity to reenact all the romantic scenes from plays with you. Whether it’s dancing under the stars or in the ballroom, whispering your name sweetly while holding eye contact, or even chasing you through a field of flowers.

Aegnor enjoys sharing you with the world and letting everyone know that you’re his and he’s yours, so expect commissions of pieces of jewellery that showcase his love for you. A promise ring, a locket with his favourite words engraved, a bracelet with the two as the pendant, and dozens of love letters.

He’s a lover for public displays of affection. He’ll hold you close, pressing gentle kisses to your forehead and cheeks, lips, hands, every oart of your body he could kiss and whisper cheesy words. His touch reverent and tender as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

Flowers upon every meeting and an arm out for you to cross puddles. Holding doors open, pulling out your chair, fixing your hair and clothes, wiping your lips after you’ve eaten and so many more. You can bet the romantic puppy would be down for doing all that and more.

.𑁍༊˚ Rog

Rog’s princess treatment is all about making sure you feel secure and adored. As a formidable warrior, he’s always looking out for your safety, and you can count on him to be at your side, whether you’re walking through the bustling streets of Gondolin or relaxing at home.

He loves to carry you, especially when you least expect it. Whether it’s sweeping you off your feet to avoid a puddle or lifting you onto his shoulders for a better view, if it makes you happy, it makes him happy. Not to forget, he makes time to also be your teddy bear.

Rog is also a craftsman, and he often creates beautiful, practical items for you. Whether it’s a sturdy pair of boots tailored to your feet or a custom weapon if you’re inclined towards combat, everything he makes is infused with his care and attention to detail.

Despite his warrior’s exterior, Rog has a gentle heart. He’ll often gather flowers for you during his travels and present them with a shy smile, brushing a tender kiss against your knuckles as he does so.

Rog is very tactile in his affection, always finding reasons to touch you—whether it’s holding your hand, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, or wrapping an arm around your waist. He thrives on these small connections, each one a silent declaration of his love.

.𑁍༊˚ Galdor

Galdor’s treatment revolves around pampering you in the most thoughtful ways. He’ll often draw you luxurious baths filled with fragrant herbs and flower petals, making sure everything is perfect before leaving you to relax in solitude.

He has a knack for finding the perfect gifts—whether it’s a book you’ve been wanting, a rare plant, or a piece of art that reminds him of you. Each gift is accompanied by a sweet note, handwritten and filled with his deepest affections.

Galdor enjoys taking you on serene walks through beautiful gardens, where he’ll pick the most exquisite flowers to weave into your hair. He takes great care in making sure you feel adored and beautiful, often complimenting you in the softest of tones.

He’s very attentive to your comfort, often adjusting pillows or bringing you extra blankets without you even needing to ask. If you’re working or reading, Galdor will quietly bring you snacks or a cup of tea, ensuring you have everything you need to stay relaxed and content.

In quieter moments, Galdor loves to play music for you, whether on a harp or flute. He’ll serenade you with soft melodies that soothe your soul, his music a tender expression of his love and devotion.

.𑁍༊˚ Beleg

Being rooted in nature and simplicity, he loves to take you on long walks through the woods, where he’ll point out different plants and animals, making sure you feel connected to the world around you while also feeling special in his presence.

He’s always crafting small gifts for you out of natural materials, like a crown of leaves or a bracelet made from braided vines. Each item is created with care and presented to you with a warm smile, his way of showing how much he cherishes your bond.

Beleg is a skilled archer, and he’ll often set up friendly competitions where the prize is always a sweet kiss or a ton of sweet kisses. He loves seeing your eyes light up with excitement, and his laughter is the most rewarding sound when you best him in a challenge.

He enjoys setting up intimate campfires where you can both sit close, sharing stories and toasting beer or wine under the stars. Beleg will wrap you in his cloak, not because you need protection, but because he wants you to feel his warmth and presence.

When it’s just the two of you, Beleg will take the time to braid your hair, his fingers working with gentle precision. He finds peace in these quiet moments, and it’s his way of showing you how much he treasures every second spent together.

Masterlist

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[sweetwolfcupcake]

Wildflower: 06

The Secret Garden

John Wick x Reader

Category: Short Series

Warning: Stalking, mentions of violence

Note: John is relatively younger in this fic( late thirties to early forties)

*Thank you the original creator for making such an amazing GIF. I downloaded it from Google.

Unedited

Wildflower 05

According to John’s rational, calculating mind, his job was done. He got her to the hospital, paid the bills, played his part in Winston’s unexplained act of taking the young woman under his wing, and ensured his name was nowhere in the records. 

The hospital's owner knew’ John and was an old acquaintance of Winston. By now, John was sure Winston learned of John’s visit and that he brought her to be admitted there.

According to John's rational mind, he should be at the Continental, or at least answer Winston's messages (only two since the morning– he was too refined to send more than that).

But for once, his rational mind was conflicting with his instincts. It was not the first time, but it was a rare occurrence. But there he was, blended among the hustle and bustle, hiding in plain sight— keeping his eyes on the hospital. The entrance, precisely. She could be walking out any moment and with the concussion, he might have to—

His jaws clenched at the sight of Norton helping her out. The younger male’s hand rested on her waist, supporting her. Something was burning in John’s chest because he realised that he had been thinking of being at Norton’s place.

John frowned, realising how irrational he would sound if he vocalised his thoughts. Where were his thoughts going anyway?

What the hell was he doing?

He had an explanation for… his ‘treatment’ of the petty criminal. He needed to take back her mother’s ring for her. 

But this?

This was not how he was supposed to feel. He felt like he was losing control over his instincts and John hated losing control. Having control over himself helped. There was a feeling that at least he had some control over his life, some sort of freedom.

Losing that control threatened the little freedom and control he had over his life that was perhaps sealed for hell the moment he was born.

He was a man who moved with a purpose— what was his purpose there? He should be relieved, she would not need any help and he could just go home, or to the Continental. 

Instead, he stood there, discreet with his eyes and body language but could not help the scowl that faintly appeared on his otherwise unreadable face. 

His eyes followed them as they got into a taxi. With his gaze zeroed on the vehicle, he quickly noted the number in his mind before getting inside his car. He knew he could not rest until she was safe in her home. 

Without the shadow of Alex Norton lingering around.

John found himself feeling slightly at ease after Alex left. Another open contract. John received the message already.

Three million dollars was a lot. No wonder Alex chose to take it. But John could not bring himself to leave just yet. He sat in his car, just watching her window. At nightfall, it was easier to make out what was happening with the lights on and her fumbling around. Her shadow stumbled a bit now and then, and John found himself frowning in frustration.

Why was she moving so much?

Stupid girl!

John was surprised at the level of obliviousness that surrounded her. Who would go to a park near dawn? And for what? To watch the sunrise?

Not that John did not appreciate such peaceful moments, but he was John Wick. But she? He could tell she had never even thrown a punch at anyone. He felt it when he first shook her hand. He was taken aback by the softness. He was not used to it, but he would admit it felt… good.

John gulped. 

He would rather not remember how her form felt pressed against his. He could be gentle, he was gentle with the women when he wasn’t fighting them for survival, and even then, he was never brutal with the kills. He made it quick.

But touching her felt different. It made him think twice about pressing too hard, holding too tight, even the day he just let her bump into him, he somehow regretted wearing the vest because he could see that it hurt her.

John was not a boy. He was old enough to understand where this was going. He simply could not bring himself to look into its eyes and admit it. 

If he did…

He tore his gaze away from the window and busied himself with drinking some water. He stubbornly kept his gaze down, refusing to look up again. His phone dinged with an alert.

An exclusive contract. 

There were people he could not deny, after all. 

With one last glance at her apartment window, John twisted the keys and drove away into the night. It was time to hunt.

—------

Laying on his bed with a bandaged ankle was not something ‘normal’ people would enjoy. John, on the other hand, was thankful. He was half-expecting a fracture. A sprain was no big deal— nothing compared to what he was trained to endure, or what he endured growing up. 

John had turned numb to the pain. He would go on, despite the pain. He would go on without acknowledging it, at least until he was done with his task at hand. People might say he had a formidable sense of commitment and focus. But in reality, it was all he knew. To John, it was the way of life. It was how he was trained, and how he grew up.

The world outside gave him much more agency. Not exactly freedom—but the chain binding him loosened up, and the cage expanded. But he was owned; the whole jungle was the High Table’s prison, after all.

He had been a part of this ‘jungle’ for as long as he could remember. Ruska Roma was simply a prison within this prison— this great ‘system’ he was pulled into the moment he was left orphaned. He thought he could live with it because this was all he knew.

But then came (Y/N) (L/N)...

With her expressive eyes brimming with determination, a smile so kind and sweet it made him sigh. A laugh that sounded like bells of spring and a carefree, oblivious kind of happiness he knew he could not have and a touch so soft, so non-deliberate, it irked him. 

Everything about her was simultaneously off-putting and intriguing. 

John was compelled to admit, that it irked him because her existence, her presence itself felt like a mockery to his life. She was not chained, unlike him, even though she was born to a woman who once belonged to the same hell he was now a part of. It irked him because she was everything he used to dream of as a child. She had everything he wanted so desperately during his naive years before he was finally disillusioned. 

It irked him how many times a day he thought about her. About how vulnerable she was and yet had a certain fire within that he knew would burn him down if he dared venture close enough. This flame, or whatever was within her was soothing for now, but he was afraid of it. Afraid of nurturing something he could not contain, he could not control.

Like his thoughts moving to her now and then—each day, he thought longer, more about her, each time he did, he felt himself softening in ways he never thought he was capable of. He thought he had turned completely numb. She proved him wrong even without trying to. 

And it irked him in every way possible.

Even the simplest of proximity they shared, he felt it all over his skin, in each of his veins, he felt it in his heart, he felt it in his mind. It was bizarre, bewildering, and infuriating.

But if he found her infuriating, why did he end up doing all the things he had done so far? Why did he end up watching over her behind the quiet shadows of the night, watching her sleep from the darkest corner of her room? Why would he follow her to her little trips at the parks and bicycle rides if her presence irked him? Why would he fracture the ribs of the man who hurt her, and tried to mug her? He broke his fingers, that man’s wrist would never be the same…

John felt the rage that he used to feel while growing up in Ruska Roma and watching helplessly how unfair everything was, and how powerless other children like him were. 

Maybe that was why he felt that rage—he had become someone his younger self would run to for protection. When he watched, the man hurt her. Something in him seared, it stung in all the worst ways possible, and he could not stand the feeling until his knuckles were marred with that rat’s blood.

He had been rather merciful, though. 

Anyone with a sane mind would call him a monster. Was he not a monster anyway? But at this point, he had no care for morals anymore— he was only surviving, as every other assassin like him was. To hell with the morals, John knew he was strong enough to be feared.

And if fear was the way to keep the little freedom he had earned, he would let fear reign.

—---

It was another day. Just another day of the same cycle. Waking up, having breakfast, taking the prescribed medication a week after being discharged, and going to work. Yes, that was the ‘regular’ part of the day. It was after work, when she was passing by the park, that (Y/N) noticed a familiar figure on the bench.

His hair was brushed back but seemed a bit fluffier—casual. Yes, that was the difference. He was in a plain white T-shirt and a pair of jeans. She had seen, John Wick only in dark suits. Black. Yes, that was his preferred colour, it seemed. But as she watched him sitting on the bench, a sandwich in his hand and a coffee cup by his side, he appeared so...unreal.

It did not make sense. He was a stranger, more or less, and she had seen him hardly four times(?). But he looked almost angelic to (Y/N). Especially with the setting sun casting a glow on the side of his face. 

What the hell are you even doing?

Too late, she was already within his earshot. He turned to her, alerted by the disturbance in the otherwise tranquil park. And just as she thought, the sunlight fell just the right way on his eyes, and they seemed ethereal—perhaps brown was the most loved by nature.

She was expecting some surprise in his eyes but they were so calm, so hypnotic, it surprised her instead.

“Hi.”

“Good evening.”

Wow, even his greetings were classy.

“Um, yes, good day—I mean, good evening.” (Y/N) felt the warmth of embarrassment on her cheeks before noticing the mirth in his eyes. It was faint, but it was there. 

“I saw here, and just thought, I would say hi.”

This time, the corner of his lips rose higher “Oh, you live here?”

“Yes, just a few blocks ahead…You come here often?”

He took a moment to answer, and throughout that tiny moment (it felt stretched to an hour), his eyes seemed to assess her before he replied.

“Sometimes.”

John did not verbally invite her, only removing the cup from the bench, leaving space for her to sit before turning his gaze ahead. And while, yes, this was a silent invitation, her mind had gained expertise in overthinking.

Did he really want her to sit?

Or was it him being polite?

He looked fine by himself. At peace too.

And then—

He turned to her again “Are you in a rush?”

“Uh…no?”

“Then, please...” He gestured with his hand, glancing at her. It seemed more like a side-eye but, whatever.

“You like to sit here alone?” She asked, taking a seat beside him, not too close, but not noticeably far.

“Solitude is good for my sanity.”

Stoic and quiet, he seemed every bit of a man who would appreciate solitude over company, like her.

“You seemed so to me.”

From the corner of her eyes, she could see him turn to her. Even seated, he towered over her, sitting straight—as if a soldier were on alert. 

“How much of me do you know?”

“Enough to draw precise conclusions, I believe.” (Y/N) turned to him. The last of the sun’s rays kissed his face tenderly. He was a sight to behold, she realised.

There was a twinkle in his eyes, and the shade of brown softened. “You know only what you see from afar. There is no reason or good for you to get any closer.”

“Why? My mother was a part of this world.”

“And she kept you away. That is for a reason. There is nothing to see here, (Y/N).”

“I have unanswered questions. If Winston could—”

“I believe he does what he sees as best. Especially for you.”

“Why does he care so much about me? Why did my mother trust him over anyone else?”

John sighed “I’m afraid I have no answer.” 

He answered with a contemplative frown and looked away, setting his sight once more on the darkening sky as the remnants of the set sun remained.

“Sorry, I am not great at conversations, and the past months of moving in all the information have taken a toll, I guess.”

“I understand.” He assured her kindly.

A long silence followed after that. It was indeed awkward initially. She had no new words or energy to set another tone. But it grew to be comfortable, at least for her. They sat there in silence until the street lights blinked on and the moon turned more prominent against the black sky.

“It’s late; I should go now.” (Y/N) stated, but made no effort to stand up.

“Sure”

“It was good talking to you.”

Faint amusement danced in his eyes as he turned to her. “I do not recall much talking.”

Yes, they had been sitting in silence for at least fifteen minutes. The of sight of mirth in his eyes made her smile

 “I cannot say I hated it.”

He smiled at her. It reminded her of an intimidating and misunderstood large canine trying to socialise. An awkward smile that came with a nod. But nothing mattered because it was in his eyes.  The soulful and melancholic pools of molten chocolate had the perfect tinge of golden brown when the sunrays fell on them a few moments ago before the sky darkened.

“Okay, so, see you around? I guess?” (Y/N) forced her gaze away, not wanting to come off as creepy.

“Maybe.” John replied, “Let me walk you home.”

“Oh no, there’s no need. My house is just a few blocks away…”

 By the time she was closer to finishing the sentence, he was on on his legs.

“Even better, it’s not far then.”

“Yes and—”

And he was already walking ahead. It turned out, that walking home in a comfortable silence was not that bad.

****

[cynic-spirit]

Arches and Turns

Benny Cross x reader

warnings: longing, fluff

A picturesque stone bridge arches gracefully over a tranquil river in the countryside. The bridge is made of weathered gray stones, each one carefully placed to form a sturdy yet elegant structure. Moss and small ferns grow in the crevices between the stones, adding a touch of green to the otherwise muted tones.

The bridge is surrounded by lush meadows filled with wildflowers in shades of purple, yellow, and white, gently swaying in the breeze. Tall trees with dense, leafy canopies frame the scene, their branches creating dappled patterns of light and shadow on the ground. The river beneath the bridge flows gently, its clear waters reflecting the blue sky above and the vibrant colors of the surrounding landscape.

A dirt path, worn smooth by years of use, leads to the bridge, inviting travelers to cross and continue their journey through the idyllic countryside. The peaceful ambiance is occasionally broken by the soft rustle of leaves or the distant chirping of birds, creating a sense of serene isolation. The bridge, though simple, stands as a timeless piece of architecture that seamlessly blends into its natural surroundings, offering a perfect harmony between man-made structure and nature.

Benny, a solitary figure clad in a leather jacket and helmet, frequently rides his motorcycle along the winding country roads. His path often takes him over the old stone bridge, which he usually crosses without a second thought, the roar of his engine echoing through the serene landscape. The bridge, though beautiful, has always been just another part of his journey—a fleeting moment in his ride, never a destination.

One day, as he approaches the bridge, something unusual catches his eye. There, standing alone on the bridge, is a young woman with long, flowing black hair that cascades down her back. The breeze gently lifts the strands, playing with them as if in a dance. She's wearing a simple, flowing white dress that contrasts starkly with the earthy tones of the bridge and the vibrant colors of the countryside.

She stands near the edge of the bridge, looking out over the water, seemingly lost in thought. The sunlight bathes her in a warm glow, making her appear almost ethereal, like a figure out of a dream. The biker slows his pace, captivated by the sight. He's used to the solitude of these roads, where it's rare to encounter anyone, let alone someone so striking.

For a moment, he contemplates stopping, maybe saying hello, but something holds him back. Instead, he keeps his distance, pulling his bike to the side of the road, just out of sight, where he can observe her without intruding. The woman doesn't seem to notice him; she remains still, gazing out over the water, her expression serene and introspective.

The biker watches her in silence, a mix of admiration and curiosity stirring within him. There's something about her presence that feels almost magical, as if she's a part of the landscape, belonging to the bridge and the countryside in a way he never could. The moment feels timeless, and he finds himself wishing he could freeze it, hold on to the peace and beauty of it forever.

But he knows he can't stay. The road calls to him, as it always does. Reluctantly, he revs his engine and continues his journey, casting one last glance back at the bridge. The woman remains where she is, a solitary figure on the ancient stones, as the sound of his motorcycle fades into the distance.

From that day onward, Benny finds himself drawn to the bridge more than ever. His rides, once aimless and driven by the need to escape, now have a clear purpose: to catch a glimpse of the mysterious woman. He times his rides so that he passes by the bridge at the same hour each day, hoping to see her standing there as she always seems to be.

He never stops to speak to her, though the urge to do so grows stronger with each passing day. Instead, he keeps his distance, letting the engine of his motorcycle hum quietly as he slows down to take in the sight of her. The woman, with her long black hair flowing in the breeze, seems as much a part of the landscape as the bridge itself, as if she belongs there, waiting for someone or something.

Each day, he notices something new about her—how she sometimes wears a light scarf that flutters in the wind, or how her gaze seems to linger on the horizon, lost in thought. He sees the way she gently brushes a strand of hair behind her ear or how she occasionally leans over the edge of the bridge, watching the water below with a contemplative expression. She seems quiet, introspective, and perhaps as lonely as he is.

The more he sees her, the more he feels a connection, an inexplicable bond forming between them. He imagines what her voice might sound like, what thoughts occupy her mind as she stands there alone. He wonders what brings her to the bridge every day and what it is that she’s searching for. In his mind, he begins to create a story for her, one that intertwines with his own, filling the empty spaces in his heart with the possibility of a connection he’s never known before.

Though they never speak, her presence becomes a constant in his life, a source of quiet comfort amidst the noise of the world. He finds himself thinking about her even when he’s not riding, her image lingering in his mind like a beautiful, haunting melody. He knows nothing about her—her name, her life, her story—but it doesn’t matter. He’s falling for her, slowly, deeply, and without even realizing it, she becomes the most important part of his journey.

For nearly a month and a half, the biker’s routine remains unchanged. Each day, he rides out to the countryside, making his way to the old stone bridge. Sometimes, instead of simply passing by, he stops his bike at a discreet distance, far enough not to disturb the peaceful solitude of the bridge but close enough to watch her without being noticed. He often lights a cigarette and leans against his bike, the smoke curling up into the air as he observes her quietly.

He’s come to know her habits, though not her name. Some days, she stands by the edge of the bridge, gazing at the water below, lost in her thoughts. Other times, she sits on the low stone wall, a book in her hands. He can never make out the titles, but he watches her turn the pages slowly, her eyes fixed on the words as if the world around her has ceased to exist. There's a calmness in her demeanor, a quiet resilience that captivates him. She reads with such focus, her expression occasionally softening into a smile, as if whatever story she’s immersed in brings her some small joy.

Benny finds himself more drawn to her with each passing day, her presence on the bridge becoming a strange yet comforting part of his life. She’s a mystery, one he’s in no hurry to solve, content to simply watch her from afar. His thoughts are often filled with her image, her dark hair, her delicate fingers turning the pages of her book, the way she seems both present and distant at the same time.

But one evening, after a long ride with his biker club, he finds himself in an unexpected predicament. They’ve gathered at their usual spot, a small, dimly lit bar where the air is thick with the smell of leather, smoke, and cheap beer. It’s a place where he usually feels at ease, surrounded by the familiar faces of his friends. But tonight, something feels off. He reaches into his jacket pocket for his lighter, intending to light a cigarette as he listens to the banter around him. But his fingers come up empty.

He checks his other pockets, then his saddlebag, but the lighter is nowhere to be found. He realizes he must have dropped it somewhere, maybe during his ride, or perhaps it fell out when he stopped by the bridge earlier that day. The thought of it being lost nags at him, not because it’s irreplaceable, but because it was a part of his routine, a small yet significant piece of the time he spends watching her.

Without the lighter, the ritual feels incomplete, and he finds himself distracted, unable to fully engage in the conversations around him. His thoughts keep drifting back to the bridge, to the woman who now seems even more unreachable without the simple act of lighting a cigarette to fill the silence between them. It’s a small thing, but it feels like a crack in the carefully constructed world he’s built around his quiet obsession.

As the night wears on, he grows restless, the need to return to the bridge and see her again becoming almost unbearable. The loss of the lighter seems to symbolize something more significant, a reminder of how fragile this connection he feels with her truly is, how easily it could slip through his fingers without him ever having the courage to reach out.

Benny, unable to shake the feeling of unease, decides to ride out to the bridge, even without his lighter. As he speeds down the familiar roads, the cool evening air brushes against his face, doing little to calm the restlessness growing within him. He knows it’s irrational, this need to see her, but the pull is too strong to ignore. The lighter, though just a small object, had been a part of his quiet ritual, a companion to his moments of silent longing. But more than the lighter, it’s her absence that weighs on his mind.

When he reaches the bridge, the sun is dipping low in the sky, casting long shadows over the landscape. The stone bridge is bathed in the golden light of the setting sun, the river below shimmering like liquid gold. But as he pulls up to his usual spot, something feels off. The bridge, normally graced by her presence, is empty.

He scans the area, searching for any sign of her, but there’s nothing—no fluttering scarf, no dark hair catching the light, no book resting on the stone wall. Just the quiet hum of the river and the rustling of leaves in the breeze.

A sense of emptiness settles in his chest. He dismounts his bike, standing there for a moment, hoping that maybe she’s just late, that any second now, she’ll appear like she always does. But as the minutes pass, the bridge remains deserted, and the reality begins to sink in: she isn’t coming.

He walks closer to the bridge, his boots crunching softly on the gravel path. For the first time in weeks, he steps onto the bridge itself, moving to the spot where she usually stands. The stone is cool under his touch as he leans against the railing, looking out over the water as she so often did. The peaceful scene before him, which once brought him solace, now feels eerily still, as if the world has lost some of its color in her absence.

His mind races with possibilities. Perhaps she’s simply late, or maybe she’s found another place to pass the time. But the deeper fear, the one that gnaws at his heart, is that she might be gone for good. That he’ll never see her again, never have the chance to know her beyond the silent moments they’ve shared from afar.

As the sun continues to sink, the sky fades from gold to deep purple, and a chill settles into the air. The biker lights a cigarette with a spare match he found in his pocket, the action feeling hollow without his familiar lighter. He takes a long drag, the smoke curling up into the dusky sky, and stares out at the empty road ahead.

The evening feels strange, unsettling. The bridge, which had become a place of quiet connection and unspoken feelings, now feels like a void, a place where something important has been lost. The biker realizes how much he’s come to depend on her presence, how much he’s been changed by those silent, shared moments. And now, with her absence, he feels more alone than ever.

He stays there for a long time, long after the sun has set and the stars have begun to emerge, hoping against hope that she might still appear. But the night grows colder, and the bridge remains empty.

Just as he’s about to mount his bike and ride off, he hears a soft voice from behind him, gentle yet clear in the stillness of the evening.

“Hey, is this yours?”

He freezes, his heart skipping a beat. It’s a voice he’s never heard before but instantly knows. Slowly, he turns around, his breath catching in his throat.

There she is—standing just a few feet away, the woman who’s occupied his thoughts for weeks. She looks as stunning as ever, her long black hair cascading over her shoulders, her eyes bright with a mix of curiosity and something else—shyness, perhaps? In her hand, she’s holding his lighter, the one he thought he’d lost, the one he’d been missing all evening.

For a moment, he’s completely at a loss for words. The world seems to narrow down to just the two of them, standing on that bridge in the fading light. His heart beats erratically, the sudden rush of emotions overwhelming him. He’s spent so much time imagining what it would be like to talk to her, but now that she’s standing in front of him, words fail him entirely.

The first time Benny sees her up close, it’s as if the world around him fades away, leaving only the two of them standing on that quiet bridge. He’s seen her from a distance so many times, admired her beauty from afar, but nothing could have prepared him for this moment.

As she steps closer, her long black hair catches the light, shimmering like a cascade of midnight silk. Each strand seems to move with a life of its own, framing her delicate face in a way that makes her seem almost ethereal. Her skin, soft and pale, contrasts with the dark locks, and he can’t help but notice how it seems to glow with an inner warmth.

Her eyes—he’s never seen eyes like hers before. Up close, they’re even more striking, a deep, dark brown that holds a universe of emotions within them. They’re large and expressive, framed by thick lashes that flutter slightly as she looks at him, curiosity mingling with something more elusive. There’s a depth to those eyes that draws him in, making him feel as though he could get lost in them forever and never want to find his way out.

As she speaks, her voice soft and gentle, Benny notices the way her lips move, their fullness accentuated by a hint of natural color. He finds himself mesmerized by every word, every subtle movement, as if she’s casting a spell over him without even trying. Her lips, slightly parted as she breathes, are inviting, and for a fleeting moment, he wonders what it would be like to kiss them, to feel their warmth against his own.

He’s close enough to see the delicate curve of her collarbone, the gentle slope of her shoulders, and the way her chest rises and falls with each breath she takes. There’s a fragility to her, something that makes him want to protect her, to shield her from anything that might harm her. Yet, at the same time, there’s an undeniable strength in the way she carries herself, in the quiet grace with which she moves.

Benny’s heart pounds in his chest, his breath catching as he drinks in every detail. He’s utterly captivated, entranced by her presence. It’s as if time has slowed, allowing him to savor this moment, to memorize every feature, every nuance of her being.

For the first time, Benny feels something shift deep within him—a connection, a pull that goes beyond mere attraction. He realizes, in that instant, that she’s not just a fleeting infatuation, not just a beautiful woman standing on a bridge. She’s someone who has touched something deep inside him, awakened feelings he didn’t know he could have.

As he stands there, looking into her eyes, Benny knows that he’s enchanted—not just by her beauty, but by the very essence of who she is. And in that moment, he understands that he’s willing to do whatever it takes to get to know her, to be close to her, and to see where this newfound connection might lead.

All he can do is nod, his eyes locked on hers, trying to keep his composure as his mind races. She smiles, a small, shy smile that makes his heart pound even harder.

“I found it over there,” she continues, pointing to the spot where he usually stops to watch her. “I wasn’t sure whose it was, but I’ve seen you here before, so...”

Her voice trails off, and she takes a step closer, holding out the lighter for him to take. He reaches out, his hand trembling slightly, and takes it from her, their fingers brushing for just a brief moment. The touch is electrifying, sending a jolt through him that leaves him even more tongue-tied.

“Thank you,” he finally manages to say, his voice hoarse and barely above a whisper. It’s all he can muster, but it’s enough. She nods, still smiling, her eyes lingering on his for just a moment longer before she glances away, a slight blush coloring her cheeks.

There’s a silence between them, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s filled with all the unspoken words, all the feelings he’s been carrying in his heart without even realizing it. He wants to say more, to tell her how he’s noticed her every day, how much her presence has meant to him, but the words are tangled up inside him, caught in the whirlwind of emotions he’s never experienced before.

Finally, she breaks the silence. “I’m here most evenings,” she says softly, her eyes meeting his again, as if inviting him to stay longer next time, to maybe speak to her instead of just watching from afar.

He nods again, still too overwhelmed to say much, but his heart is racing with the possibility of more moments like this—of conversations, of connections, of maybe, finally, getting to know the woman who’s been a silent part of his life for so long.

With a final shy smile, she turns and walks away, heading toward the other side of the bridge, her figure gradually fading into the twilight. Benny watches her go, his lighter clutched tightly in his hand, feeling as though everything has changed in that brief encounter.

As he stands there, still processing what just happened, a sense of hope fills him—a hope that maybe this is just the beginning.

As the woman disappears into the twilight, the biker remains rooted to the spot, staring at the space where she had just stood. His heart is still pounding, but now that she’s gone, a wave of frustration begins to wash over him.

“What just happened?” he mutters to himself, still clutching the lighter she handed back to him. The realization of how he’d stood there, dumbstruck and unable to say anything meaningful, hits him hard. He runs a hand through his hair, letting out a sigh of exasperation.

“I stood there like a buffoon,” he chastises himself, shaking his head. He had imagined this moment so many times, had thought about what he might say if they ever spoke. But now that it had finally happened, he’d barely managed to get out a single word. “I could have said so many things,” he groans. “I didn’t even ask her name!”

He kicks at the gravel beneath his boots, annoyed with himself. This wasn’t like him at all. Normally, he was confident, smooth even. He knew how to talk to women, how to charm them. He’d never had trouble before—he could snap his fingers, and women would be drawn to him. But this woman, the one he’d been quietly obsessed with for weeks, had completely undone him with just a few words and a shy smile.

“What has this woman done to me?” he wonders aloud as he finally mounts his bike. He revs the engine, the familiar sound giving him a small sense of comfort, but it doesn’t shake the strange feeling that’s taken hold of him.

As he rides away from the bridge, the cool night air rushing past him, his mind is a swirl of thoughts and emotions. He tries to make sense of what happened, but the more he thinks about it, the more confused he becomes. There was something about her—something that made him feel things he hadn’t felt before, something that made him vulnerable in a way he wasn’t used to.

The ride back is long, giving him plenty of time to think. He goes over the encounter again and again, replaying every detail in his mind. He imagines what he should have said, what he should have done differently. But despite his frustration, there’s a part of him that’s excited, hopeful even.

He knows now that she’s noticed him too, that she knows he’s been there, watching her. And the way she looked at him, the way she spoke—it was almost as if she wanted him to come back, to talk to her again.

As he pulls into his driveway, he kills the engine and sits on his bike for a moment, staring up at the night sky. He’s never felt this way about anyone before, and it scares him a little. But it also exhilarates him.

With a deep breath, he decides that the next time he sees her, things will be different. He’ll find the courage to speak, to ask her name, to finally start the conversation that’s been building in his heart for so long. He’s not sure what will happen, but he knows he can’t just let this opportunity slip away.

As he heads inside, he pockets the lighter, the small object now holding much more significance than before. He knows he’ll be back at that bridge tomorrow, and this time, he won’t just stand there like a fool. He’ll do what he should have done tonight—he’ll make sure she knows how much she’s come to mean to him.

part 2

let me know, you guys, my first benny fic, likes and reblogs welcome. <3 let me know if i should continue this....

[sereh624]

girldad damihux headcanons!! i dont remember what was on the poll but even so i do nawt care ,, my blog my rules 😨😛 !!

badly wrote its 10pm ok

girldad damien who during the solstice, has a new, clingy, babbling heat source. the family blend together into one big ball of dada - dad - velveeta shells and cheese plus baby, swaddled in blankets. huxley acts as the beanbag, with damien tucked as close as possible against his side and their little girl curled up between them.

girldad huxley who takes his daughter out on walks the second she gains coordination, holding her small hand between his index finger and thumb, helping her to pick the little daisies poking out of the grass, or pick up rocks to bring back home and paint together.

girldad damien who once he trusts her enough to not spoon her little eyes out, bakes with her. for her first friendsgiving as a little person with opposable thumbs, the family baked cookies, cut into all kinds of funky shapes, some with the chocolate chips assorted into different faces, others lathered with leftover icing from their last cake-baking sesh. they ended up being a hit, and it then became a tradition for the family to bring their miscellaneous cookies to the friendsgivings.

girldad huxley who while he doesn't believe in overly spoiling your children, finds his resolve breaking when his pant leg is being clung to by his puppy-eyed daughter in the middle of walmart as she begs for a toy horse. he can already hear damien scolding him as he picks up the damned thing, and it only gets worseas he slowly places it in the cart. it's just this once, next time i'll say no, he tells himself as he places the unboxed toy on the shelf next to her rapidly growing collection of model horses.

girldad damien who notices that when he's pulling a particularly irritated expression, or thinking hard enough about something that it shows on his face, his daughter will mimic it. he'll be talking to someone he doesn't like, look down at his daughter and see that she's staring at the person with dramatically squinted eyes, furrowed brows and cinched lips. damien gets embarrassed, immediately trying to relax his expression and seem interested in the conversation in hopes she'd copy him again. he could not make that a habit.

girldad huxley who picks his little girl up after a particularly hard day of pre-school and takes her to the park for a debrief, him laid on his stomach, making a flower crown from wildflowers while she angrily rambles about her classmates, jabbing the ground with a stick. he's not quite sure if letting her brutalize the dirt is the correct way to get her to vent out her feelings, but he'll take it over her throwing her dinner at the floor and screaming so loud he swears her lungs will pop. baby steps, he thinks.

@huxleaf @skunkox @definetelynuwonhere

[alyrasturnz]

christopher sturniolo ᯓᡣ𐭩

✮ — writers choice

𖦹 — angst

౨ৎ — fluff

ఌ︎ — smut

| 𖦹 , ౨ৎ | pretty isn’t pretty

— y/n grapples with her insecurities, endeavoring to conceal them, yet her efforts seem futile. fortunately, chris is there to illuminate the truth that her perceived imperfections are, in fact, integral to her unique perfection.

| ✮ , 𖦹 | but daddy i love him

— chris reveals to y/n that she transcends the limited perceptions imposed by society and her family. yet, y/n finds herself ensnared in the dilemma of either perpetuating her family's legacy or forging a path uniquely her own.

| ౨ৎ | jump then fall

— y/n has shared a bond with chris for as long as she can remember. but what will unfold when the familiarities she once took for granted transform into something far more profound and stirring?

| 𖦹 , ౨ৎ | labyrinth

— what if the sole barrier preventing their union was the intricate labyrinth of her mind, a maze of thoughts and emotions that she alone must navigate?

| ౨ৎ | wish you were sober

— though y/n might have been inebriated and her thoughts clouded, little did chris realize that every word she uttered was laden with sincere intent.

| 𖦹 , ఌ︎ | casual

— they had agreed to a relationship devoid of emotional entanglements, yet the reader finds herself struggling to endure the mere guise of friendship with benefits, yearning instead for a deeper, more meaningful connection.

| ఌ︎ | dress

— in a society teeming with individuals who presume to know everything about them yet remain oblivious to the authentic essence concealed behind their façades, chris and y/n perceive only each other, sharing clandestine moments amidst the throngs.

| ఌ︎ | cologne

— the intoxicating aroma of his cologne weaves a spell around her senses, igniting a fervent desire deep within her. the subtle notes of his fragrance blend with the warmth of his presence, creating an irresistible allure that captivates her entirely.

| 𖦹 | its time to go

— chris and y/n have been battling the turbulent currents of their relationship, their desperate efforts marked by an unyielding grip that only seems to tighten with each passing day. despite their relentless struggle to preserve what they once cherished, y/n comes to the heart-wrenching realization that, no matter how much it breaks her heart, she must summon the strength to let him go.

| 𖦹 | ronan

— what will happen when the radiant light that once illuminated chris and y/n's lives dims into darkness, and they are absent, unable to bear witness to its fading glow or to hold him through the shadows that follow? how will they reconcile with the void left behind, knowing they weren't there to offer solace in the final moments?

| 𖦹 | chloe or sam or sophia or marcus

— you and chris became entangled in an intricate labyrinth of miscommunication, where each word and gesture were mere fragments of a language neither of you could fully decipher. it was only when chris had finally moved on, embarking on a journey to construct a life of his own, that the disparate pieces of the puzzle began to coalesce. the clarity afforded by hindsight illuminated the complex dance of misunderstandings that had woven the fabric of your shared past.

| 𖦹 | how did it end?

— you would be prevaricating if you said you knew how your relationship with chris ended, for it was not a single moment or event, but a gradual unraveling of threads that once bound you together. each day brought a new fissure, a subtle shift, until the tapestry of your connection was left frayed and incomplete, a poignant reminder of the impermanence of even the deepest bonds.

| 𖦹 | wildflower

— y/n was the love of his life, but their paths diverged, leading to a painful breakup. now, he's trying to move on with someone new, yet the shadows of his past love linger. his new partner senses his lingering feelings for y/n, and tensions rise. a heated argument erupts, revealing the raw and unresolved emotions that still bind him to y/n.

| ౨ৎ | a love unspoken

— in a world where opposites attract, chris is the bubbly, effervescent soul who brings light and laughter wherever he goes, while y/n is the soft-spoken, quiet presence who finds solace in the whispers of the wind and the pages of a book.

| 𖦹 | blowing smoke

— chris, overwhelmed by his burgeoning emotions, abruptly ceases all communication with his best friend y/n, oblivious to the profound hurt it would inflict upon her. grappling with his unrequited affection, he endeavors to distract himself by courting alia, in a futile attempt to erase y/n from his thoughts. however, the ramifications of his actions soon become glaringly apparent.

| 𖦹 , ఌ︎ | august

— in a fleeting lapse of weakness, y/n succumbed to temptation and embarked on a clandestine affair with chris, their secret rendezvous hidden beneath the sultry veil of summer. as the days grew shorter, y/n's guilt became unbearable, compelling her to sever ties with chris abruptly.

| 𖦹 , ౨ৎ | i'm so sorry

— chris utters deeply wounding words during a heated argument, words that linger in the air like a dark cloud, casting a shadow over their relationship. as the echoes of his harsh declarations resonate, both chris and y/n are left grappling with the profound emotional damage inflicted. the rawness of the moment envelops them, each struggling to process the pain and regret that now defines the space between them.