#2k challenge

[koobiie]

A lone swordsman stands in the chamber. He seems... quite lost.

[vcrnons]

S.COUPS Marie Claire Shoot Sketch

BONUS : a realtime transformation from cheollie<3 -> general leader s.coups

[incorrect-riordanverse]

annabeth: my name is annabeth 😐

percy: are you stalking me annabeth?? 😡

annabeth: *thinks about it*

annabeth: yes 😑

[kth1]

2021 -> 2024 (original)

[solacestea]

[v-albion]

Get chomped little one

Congrats on 2k @sharkfinn 🎉🎉🎉

[uzi-x33]

”this latest little game of yours, thank the stars it’s over. did you have fun? did you get everything out of your system?”

“I-”

“good, good. everyone is so relieved. welcome home demon prodigy.”

ENTRY FOR @nori-draws-sometimes DTIYS YIPPEE^_^ THIS WAS SO SO FUN AND I COULNT GET THAT STEVEN UNIVERSE AUDIO OUT OF MY HEAD LMAO😭 CONGRATS ON 2K ON INSTA NORI🎉‼️

[its-all-papaya]

landoscar + 41? 🧡 maybe fake/pr-dating-turned-real-dating coded, so maybe even + 56? like, they realize the fake wasn't that fake anymore 🙈 (insert i am in love are you in love audio here)

they are both in love, anon.

(because i found it kind of impossible to explain without adding sooo much exposition... oscar is not a driver. he's just... a guy. that mclaren found. to date lando. suspend your disbelief, idk)

send me a ship and a number and i will write a kiss

41. to pretend (or is it?) | landoscar | 1.2k

Lando is in over his head. His aching, pounding, hurts-so-bad-it’s-making-him nauseous head. If he’d known one throw-away trip to the club in Miami was going to complicate his life so irreparably, he would have tucked his P1 trophy into bed next to him and gone straight to sleep like a good, boring boy. Instead, he’d gotten catastrophically fucked-up on any number of things he doesn’t remember and tossed himself dick-first into an entire publicity nightmare. That’s the worst part, probably: Lando doesn’t even remember. He remembers taking shots with Max and Danny and he remembers – barely – stumbling to the bathroom, and the next discernable point on that mental timeline comes at approximately 6:45 a.m., when he’d woken up to go vomit and found his lock screen so full of notifications that it’d made him forget to wonder where the man he’d gone to bed next to had pissed off to so early.

Since then, every minute of Lando’s life not spent in the car has felt full wall-to-wall with interviews, and meetings with crisis management, and saying “I’d prefer not to comment on that” so many times he hears it on repeat like an ear worm when he’s falling asleep at night. And also Oscar. There’s been a lot of Oscar.

He’s waiting in the lobby of McLaren’s hospitality when Lando arrives down from his driver’s room after qualifying in Brazil. Lando wonders how he got in, if their bosses have finally decided he’s trustworthy enough to walk around unchaperoned. It’s funny that he ever didn’t have a pass, actually; he is technically a McLaren employee. Probably. Lando thinks he gets paid. They’ve never talked about the specifics.

Either way, however he got there, Oscar is by himself in the lobby, leaned back in a chair, thumbing at his phone. He looks up when he senses Lando’s arrival, and Lando must look even more pathetic than he even thought, because Oscar’s face immediately goes soft with concern and he leaps up to take Lando’s bag off his hands.

“Hey, you alright?” he asks. He slides the backpack onto his own shoulders and then steadies a hand in the middle of Lando’s back, thumb tracing comforting little circles near his spine.

Lando could lie, but there’s not really any point to that, so he lets his face fold into the grimace it wants to be in and presses his thumb between his eyebrows.

“Head’s killing me,” he says. It comes out weak.

Oscar makes a sad little sound in sympathy, and the palm on Lando’s back shifts to his side so Oscar can tug him closer. Lando doesn’t have the energy to fight Oscar on these things at the best of times lately, so he’s definitely not going to when he’s exhausted and sick with the pain behind his eyes. Even though there’s really nobody around to see them.

“Let’s get you back to the hotel, then,” Oscar says, and Lando has never agreed to anything faster.

Oscar leads the way out of hospitality and through the paddock, fingers linked securely between Lando’s own. It’s baffling that he’s already been around this circus long enough to know the way without help. Nice, though, because Lando’s not really in a state to be of any.

They run into a few people along the way – fans or sponsors or employees. Lando doesn’t get the chance to tell which are which, because every time somebody new greets them, Oscar’s fingers tighten around his own and he talks the both of them cleverly out of the conversation before Lando can even consider what he would say if he was left to his own devices. It feels nearly impossible that less than six months ago, Oscar could barely say two words to Lando without being directly asked to.

“Oscar!” he hears as they’re nearing the exit, and they’re so close to relative quiet that Lando can’t help but groan about it. Oscar squeezes his hand again like an apology as he turns to address whoever it is.

"What’s up?” Oscar asks. When Lando lifts his eyes from the pavement, it’s Max stood before them. Both of his hands are hooked in the straps of his backpack and his chest is heaving just a little, like he’d jogged to catch them up.

“You’ll of course be at the race tomorrow?” Max asks. Lando’s not sure where this conversation is going, but he’s pretty sure it doesn’t have to happen right now. He hopes the look he’s giving Max is sufficiently irritated.

It must do the job, because Max’s eyes brighten and he says “Not pleased about that, Lando?”

Oscar’s hand goes from Lando’s palm to his back again, quick, and before Lando can open his mouth, Oscar’s saying, “He doesn’t feel good.”

“Ah,” Max says. Lando can’t figure out the look he’s being given.

“The race tomorrow?” Lando presses. If they’re going to chat about whatever it was right now, they could at least get to the point.

Max nods, shifting his gaze back to Oscar, “You are staying, yeah?”

“Yeah," Oscar says, "Why?”

It’s taking too long. Lando squeezes his eyes shut and presses his forehead against Oscar’s shoulder, hoping the counterpressure might do anything at all for the hot ache in his brain. Oscar’s hand goes immediately to the back of Lando’s neck, like it’s habit, and his thumb starts drawing firm lines down the muscle there, hairline to nape. It feels…really, really nice, actually.

“You’ll fly back with us after,” he can make out Max saying, “to Monaco. Lando and I and a few others.”

That doesn’t really make sense. Oscar’s been planning to go home for a bit over the mini break, Lando knows, they talked about it nearly right away when the agreement was drawn up. Far be it from him to argue that point, though, not when Oscar’s saying “Yeah, thanks, mate,” and his thumb’s still easing the pain in Lando’s skull. Lando would blame it on the headache, but it’s not like he’ll mind the extra time with Oscar, either. Which Max knows.

Lando cracks his eyes open and shifts enough to squint suspiciously at his friend, but Max is just grinning happily at the pair of them.

“Very good,” Max says. Sure.

“That’s all?” Oscar asks. His thumb finally stills. Lando does not whine about it, but it’s a close thing.

“Yes,” Max says, “you can take grumpy home now.”

Then, before Lando can decide whether that’s worth getting upset over, Oscar squeezes the back of his neck and nudges him up off his shoulder. His eyes are apologetic when Lando meets them, and he kisses Lando once on the forehead as he slides their palms back together.

It’s nice. Domestic. Very convincing, probably. Oscar’s gotten really good at his job.

“We’ll see you, mate,” Oscar says.

Max clasps Oscar’s hand for a second, then squeezes Lando’s shoulder on his way by.

When he's a few steps off, Oscar says, “Ready?” like Lando hasn’t been begging to go this whole time.

Lando says yes, please and he can tell it's a little whiny, because Oscar says "Hey, okay love, I'm sorry" and brushes a gentle kiss against his lips. Lando thinks Max is probably too far away to see it, but Oscar would know better.

It’s not until they’re finally settled into the back of the car, sides pressed together, that Lando remembers:

“Max knows about everything. You didn’t have to… he knows.”

Oscar’s gaze is soft and maybe a little sad, for some reason, but he smiles past it and combs his fingers through Lando’s hair until he settles.

“Yeah,” Oscar says as Lando’s head falls back against his shoulder, “He does.”

[duusheen]

Hope went back home to pay the rent before traveling to her parents' house and was planning to simply put the money in the mailbox, but Sterling was there and she said, "Why not?". The problem is Sterling has a special ability to get on Hope's nerves, and as expected, they started arguing. But this time the argument lasted really short, and Hope started to think that maybe, just maybe, she could get along with Sterling at some point and be friends. Not today tho.

The real reason why Sterling was being nice 🤸🏽‍♀️

[yallthemwitches]

How about these two prompts in one:

“Spread your legs for me.” … “Spread them wider.” 

Hands firm on their thighs, keeping them from snapping them shut. 🫢🫣🥵

(Cannot contain excitement 🤭🤭🤭)

Hello again!

So I cheated (?) and mushed a lot of the prompts into one piece. This one goes with your prompt, plus “Look at you coming undone before I even touch you," and "Let me take care of you, yeah?"

Also, just generally I wanted to add another entry into the "James Potter is a munch who loves his girlfriend/wife's pleasure more than himself cinematic universe."

Thanks to everyone who submitted a prompt! I'll keep working on them!

Read under cut or on AO3 here

“The troll wars of the sixteenth century were disrupted by the —James.”

“Hm?” He doesn’t remove his lips from her neck, nipping down the side with his tongue trailing after to lick away any possible pain he’s caused.

“We need to study— we both have history of magic on friday and god knows you haven’t even looked at your notes.“

“I’m listening. Go on, keep reading.” But she has a hard time believing it, because her attention is not even on the words she is saying anymore, rather following the trail of his fingertips under the hem of her skirt.

She continues, but her voice falters on a word. She repeats the sentence once, twice… by the third try, she can feel James’ lips smiling into her collarbone, the hand under her skirt now massaging circles into her inner thigh. 

“You are stressing too much about these exams,” he murmurs, moving his lips up to hers, dragging his tongue against the seam of her mouth. 

“You’re clearly not,” she mumbles back, finishing the quip just before a small gasp bubbles out, his hand below hooking around the strap of her knickers. 

Her eyes flutter closed for a split second, enjoying the lull of his touch, but she wrenches them back open, alarms starting to sound in the back of her mind.

“James—“ she hisses, “Quit it—this is the library…people will see.” 

But he either isn’t listening or doesn’t care. His eyes drift open, just long enough to take a visual scan of the nearby bookshelves before diving back on her, lips moving at a deliberate slowness so she can feel every plea of his tongue as he coaxes her mouth open against his. 

“Just relax Evans—read the lesson and let me take care of you, yeah?”

Right as she is about to ask what exactly he means by that, the warmth of his body disappears and she opens her eyes to see him sliding under the table, a wild grin beaming from his face. 

“Christ, Potter. What are you—“

But the answer becomes evident. She feels two calloused hands start at her ankles and slowly glide up her legs, fingertips like feathers trickling their way to the soft flesh between her thighs and stopping just before the place where the thigh meets the torso. 

“I can’t hear you reading, Evans,” he teases from the darkness under the table, amusement crackling in his voice. She lets out a low noise of discontent: he’s absolutely mental if he thinks she can focus on Troll Wars while he’s down there. 

She wiggles her legs a bit, sliding them side to side as a ploy to get him to do something other than rest his fingers on her upper thigh, but he makes no further movements—his intention to stall clear until she follows direction.

She can feel heat pooling just inches away from where his hands lay with irritatingly zero pressure and moves to alleviate it herself. She begins to clamp her thighs shut but he moves instantly, hands pressing hard down into her thighs and prying them open wider so that her knees are almost in line with the corners of the chair. 

“No way. I need you to spread your legs for me—as wide as you can, then start reading because I’m trying to study here.”

She has half the mind to kick him, but just as she attempts to jut out her leg, two hot hands press against either side of where her thighs and center meet and something hot and damp takes one long swipe against the center of her knickers. 

She doubles over the table, bracing herself with her hands to not completely collapse her cheek against the surface. His mouth hovers against her middle, hands still holding her open, but he stalls again, making himself clear. 

“I can’t hear you reading…c’mon Evans—I’m a kinesthetic learner...”

Arsehole. Breathing shallow, she straightens herself, feeling his fingers contract slightly on her thigh. Her center is so hungry for his touch again that it’s buzzing, all her body heat leeching to the one singular place where his mouth lingers. 

“Godric—you are getting so wet…” She doesn’t hear him say it, but she can feel it, his lips so close to the fabric that the words tickle her core. “Look at you coming undone and I haven’t even touched you yet…”

In another moment she would have called him arrogant, but the overpowering need for him to touch her keeps her mouth tight. She takes a haggard breath and picks the textbook back up, willing to play along if it means feeling less like an insect squirming on a pin.

“T-The Troll War of—of Fuck Baby.”

Finally, the stalemate ends. His mouth descends on her, fingers tugging away the soaked fabric of her knickers to press kitten licks into bare skin. Sparks of light dance across her vision, and her reading falters, unable to get her eyes to focus on the words much less anything else besides his tongue. 

“Merlin Lils, you’re dripping.” A finger dips into her with zero resistance and the sound of his fingers pumping into her wafts its way up into the room. She claws at the surface of the table, not able to find purchase and wishing she could reach for his hair and push his tongue in alongside his fingers.

“James—“

All pretense of reading is abandoned, James now solely focused on one goal only: to taste her come. He nibbles at her clit, alternating repetitive strokes of the tongue with soft sucking. She squirms against him, unhappy with her lack of mobility in the scenario—usually she is able to at least touch him back, but his spot under the table makes it too difficult to slide her hands down to find him.

“Come fuck me,” she gasps, getting restless. “I don’t bloody care who sees, come take me up against the shelf and let me come on your cock.”

A low gutteral noise echoes from below. “Fuck—-Fuck Lily—you saying that...”

For a moment he stalls, deliberating the proposition with her clit between his lips, then he begins moving again—twisting fingers, repeated laps, a thumb circling the bundle of nerves at the center of it all.

“No—come first,” he says, pulling her thighs impossibly wider. “Then I’ll give you what you want.”

It’s unbearable, the pleasure building in her body. He adds more pressure, focusing on the exact spots he knows will make her unravel the fastest. It takes an act of god to keep her eyes open, always watching for some stray student to wander past and see her keeled over and panting against her homework.

Stripes of color litter her eyesight, the pleasure mounting right where his tongue lingers, coaxing her to finish in the same rhythm of his hand. She covers her mouth, unable to hold back moans as the sensation culminates, crashing down on her like warm rain. 

“Shh—just a little more…” 

Little is an understatement. Her body trembles, head falling down against the cool grain of the table.

“James, baby I—.” 

It is loud enough to echo against the high dome ceiling, but she doesn’t care anymore. He continues even after she has come down from her climax, stroking the now sensitive skin until a bubble of laughter pulls him away. 

Slunk against the table, she doesn’t register he’s moved until her chair skids backwards with her in it. Now out from his hiding spot, he stands in front of her, mouth glistening and a feral look gazing back from under his lenses. Her eyes have only seconds to zero in on the very obvious tent in his pants when she is shot backwards, now pressed against the nearest shelf with dust raining down on her. 

“I ready to fuck you now.”

His tongue slips into her mouth and she tastes herself heady on his tongue. He bunches up her skirt enough to rip down her knickers, pocketing them in the process and she fiddles with his waistband, taking care to grind her hips forward in the process. 

She has to admit, It’s her favorite part.

When he goes down on her he is all power, commanding her body much like he does a broomstick: with lithe, domineering movements encompassed in complete awe. But after, after when he has the trophy of his name pouring from her lips and her taste surging against his tongue– then he is finally able to give in. He melts completely for her.

“Lily–” he coos when she finds the smooth skin of his cock from inside his pants and shoves his trousers down just enough to release him. 

 “Merlin you’re amazing–a dream…I mean, fucking christ.”

She laughs at his adopted muggle swear while busying herself with hiking her leg around his waist. He takes her ass in both hands, holding her wedged against the bookshelf. 

“I’m going to dock points from you for making too much noise,” she says with laughter trickling out. He grins back, not even denying his penchant for being vocal. 

“Do it, take it. Best loss of Gryffindor pride I’ve ever wallowed away.” 

Turns out she is just as bad as he is. He pants between her breasts, dipping in and out of her with a swift ease, aided by the remains of his earlier work. She grips everywhere at once, the creaking wood of the shelves, the rattling tomes behind her, his shoulders, and especially his hair. She cries into his neck, biting down as a means to silence herself but getting a little more mileage when the action makes James’ hips snap forward, the new angle shooting her back off the ledge and landing her somewhere past human thought. He follows after, gasping her name against her as he shakes in release. 

In all, it's a miracle they aren’t caught. 

“So much for our history of magic NEWT,” she sighs, absently trailing a hand through his hair and down the nape of his neck while his heartbeat slows under her. He enjoys being inside of her for just a moment longer, fully aware the second they separate the real world will rush in.

“What are you talking about?” He looks up with his glasses askew on his face, eyes dreamy and serene. She has the urge to kiss him, so she does.

“I’ll never forget the Troll War for as long as I live now—who knew shagging was a very effective study strategy.”

She laughs and he pushes their foreheads together, wishing he could bottle the sound.

[memoirsofasim]

Celeste and Alonso returned home to overcast weather and a yard full of leaves. There was a chill in the air and winter was just around the corner. Just like all their other vacations Celeste was quick to hang photos on the wall and put on display any items they picked up from their trip.

[truly-morgan]

Kinktober Summer Rerun 2024: Oviposition ● Plantcest 🌱🌱

【DAY 16】

[#plantcest kv, oviposition, modern setting, vashussy with weird alien anatomy]

“Nai” Vash gasped then whined, feeling himself being lifted off of the floor upon getting home. They had barely made it into their apartment before his twin was all over him. “At least wait until we’re in the bedroom, last time on the floor wasn’t comfortable,” he said, earning a sigh from his brother who had been kissing his neck.

He was already ready to start, pressing hard against the warmth between Vash’s legs, grinding hard. But he still obeyed the young man’s demand, holding him tightly as he made his way to the bedroom.

Once they got there Vash allowed himself to fall backwards, pulling Nai along with him into the bed. In no time he was being ravished again, warm hand nearly tearing his clothes off of him. Not that he was that much more patient, pulling as best as he could at Nai’s t-shirt.

“Beautiful, perfect” Nai said under his breath as he looked down at his brother, pale lines covering his body, more so his navel area. He brushed his fingers lightly over his skin, smiling at how they glowed a pretty pink-ish hue at /his/ touch. No one else they knew, all humans, could bring such a reaction.

His hand then slowly made its way south, going through soft feathers that covered his pubic, before finally reaching his destination. his fingers teased the little appendages that kept close, tracing the seam between them. He smiled satisfied when they slowly started opening up, wrapping around his fingers.

“Look at you, opening up for me so nicely~” Nai said, fingers playing with the little opening appendages, feeling thinner tendrils wrapping around the same fingers, pulling him close lightly. “Your body is as honest as ever” he nearly purred, looking at a flustered Vash.

They hadn’t been doing this for very long, it had taken some time for Nai to convince him even. But really, no one else was more compatible for either of them as each other, not even other plants. It was shown by just how responsive their bodies were when mating season came.

“You are no better” Vash tried to argue, hand sneaking inside his sweatpants, feeling something just as similar gently grab onto his fingers. Nai groaned as he kept stroking and rubbing, something slowly unravelling and pushing out of him. Vash eventually got impatient and pushed his boxer and sweatpants away.

Similar appendages as he had opened up, but instead of showing a throbbing hole what humans would call a cock had slowly come out. A blue-ish colour, with bumps and ridges covering its length up to a somewhat flattened tip. Little tendril at the base, similar to Vash’s, seemingly seeking out something to hold onto.

Once naked Nai was back at kissing Vash like his life depended on it, fingers pushed deep inside of him. It wasn’t really like he needed to prepare him, their bodies were made for each other and he knew he could just trust him immediately if he wanted to.

But he also liked teasing his twin.

Seeing him squirm under him, lightly begging Nai to fuck him already. Looking as he seemed to be burning from the inside the same way his brother was. The way he could feel thick juice cover his fingers and hand, Vash already leaking so much with barely any attention given to him.

“Naaaaaii, pleaaase” Vash whined, legs wrapping around him and pulling him closer.

How could he refuse him so much when he was so adorable and sexy begging for him like this? With a little chuckle, he finally stopped, despite the stamen-like tendril trying to keep him close. They weren’t left alone for too long though as he instead made himself comfortable between his twin's legs, slowly pushing his cock in.

A shiver ran down his back as his own sensitive tendrils were grabbed by his brother’s, trying to keep him close and unable to move away. Showing just how much Vash needed him, how much he wanted to keep him close right now. Not that he would complain.

He cursed under his breath at the way Vash was holding onto him tightly, velvety walls throbbing around him, feeling like they wanted him to stay buried here forever. He’d normally like to go slow and easy with him, but right now he can’t quite stop himself from pounding into him, too overwhelmed by the need to breed.

And Vash’s cries and moans of pleasure sure aren’t helping in keeping him going slow.

So he trusts, in and out, barely able to control himself, grabbing his brother’s waist so tightly he’ll probably have bruises later on. He doesn’t care though, he loves seeing his twin marked by him. Plus it keeps him from squirming too much, letting him hit just the right spot to have Vash cuming on his cock in no time, even more slick drenching the bed.

Then he feels it, a tightness inside of him, feeling so close to yet unable to really get over yet either. His trust becomes less fast but rougher, trying to go as deep as possible. As if reacting to his own body he can feel how hard it is to pull away as his and Vash’s petal-like appendages start holding onto each other, keeping them locked and closed. All he can do is shallowly trust into him, groaning as he can finally feel something travelling inside his length.

Slowly but surely little eggs start being laid inside of Vash, being pushed deeper as others just as slowly pop inside. And he just loves it, seeing the look on his brother’s face as he being filled up with eggs, looking blissed and satisfied, body glowing more than ever, humming slightly.

He knows they won’t keep the eggs, but it still won’t stop his brain from being proud and possessive of this moment. Watching as Vash’s belly slowly start to grow a little as more eggs are being pushed inside of him.

But even when the eggs are doing being pushed inside it’s not quite finished. Nai is soon gently trusting his hips again, as much as their locked body will allow it. It doesn’t bring much friction but it is enough to have him cum properly, filling up the young man with a sweet liquid that should fertilise the eggs and keep the safe.

It only make Vash look even more bloated. If only those stupid humans could see him like this, see who Vash belongs to.

He only stops when he cannot pump anymore inside of Vash, taking a moment to look properly at his twin. Vash always looks so good, but like this he looks devine, just like he should always be, filled up with Nai.

Then he sees arms reaching out to him, Vash whining out his name. It all it takes for him to lean down, allowing himself to be pulled closer, kissing him slowly and gently, more so than he did before. He moves them around to lay down more comfortably, waiting for their bodies to finally agree to let them go.

He can’t wait to be pumping more eggs inside of Vash, wondering just how much he’ll be able to accept inside of his body before it’s too much even for him.

To see him looking fully pregnant is such a sight he cannot pass on.

He also knows, despite his instinct hating it, that it will be just as fun watching and helping Vash lay them too soon. Watching as he slowly push everything out of him, gushing with Nai’s semen.

But for now they can relax, they have a lot of time to do all of this.

[s0fti3w1tch]

Yknow what, for fun ♥︎ Complete the heart

Rules are just:

@ me and put the tag #s0fti3w1tch's 2k

Don't edit Trainee/TD!AU Leo

No ship art

No h0rny

No deadlines or prizes, just do this if you wanna do it. I wasn't sure if I would celebrate getting 2k, but I thought maybe at least a little thing like this would be fun.

Regardless, thank you for all the support.

blank blank ver. below cut

[ronearoundblindly]

alright, I mean this is the nicest way possible, and please believe me when I say this is not to discourage anyone's enjoyment of other content on this site, but...

Should I do some sort of celebration/challenge thing that does not involve dark themes??

I know it's not just me, I know there's a few of us who would at least like a better balance, but I do want people to participate. I want stuff to share that I actually got to read thoroughly instead of skip huge chunks or just reblog without reading because I can't take the triggers. I'm so, so, so tired of half-assing my participation for my own mental health.

anyway. thanks for reading.

EDIT: If you feel something you wrote recently, long ago, or read fits this criteria, please please please feel free to send me a link in ask or DM.

[thevioletfury]

Domesticity– Kuro One-Shot

Summer heat and unfamiliar places lead to restless nights. Ciel and Elizabeth talk. Married life fluff. Rated T/M(?). 2k words.

“Can’t sleep?” Ciel’s voice rang out from his place in the balcony doorway, his slender frame leaned against the frame. He appeared more boyish than usual; standing barefoot with tousled hair and wearing a matching pajama set that were rolled at the ankles and wrists, an homage to his former self. Now at 19, his youthfulness continued to find ways to stick around.

“Well, thrashing around in bed would only irritate both of us, so I’m trying to bore myself back to sleep”. Elizabeth responded without glancing up from the page in her book, Walden by Henry David Thoreau, illuminated by a single candle on the glass table next to her. She sat curled up in a chair on their balcony, though it was really her balcony since she was the only one who used it. “It’s far too stifling inside, I couldn’t take it anymore” She admitted plainly. 

It only took a couple strides for Ciel to take his seat next to her. Height was one of his indicators that he was not a child anymore. At around 15 he’d caught up to Lizzy’s height, and by 17 he noticed he could see clear over the top of her head. “The manor still isn’t to your liking?” He posed to her, his gaze wandering off into gardens and forest below them. 

Three months had passed since their wedding, though if you told her it had been merely days, she would’ve believed you. Nothing was to her liking because this manor was not hers, it was theirs. Frankly, Elizabeth was not used to sharing anything prior to marriage. She had a brother, but their lives were entirely separate. Then suddenly on a random day in April, she was sharing an estate, a name, and a bedroom with someone else. It was incredibly odd to her to not be waking up in the same room she had been for the past 20 years of her life. The adjustment had been difficult on Ciel too, that went without saying. He had been quite comfortable with his solitude and enjoyed having control over the frequency of company. On that same day in April, that privilege was taken away too. They were always in each other’s space and still trying to find the rhythm of their life. And now, to agitate things further, it was the peak of summer. 

Unable to come up with a more eloquent response, Elizabeth said, “It’s just hot”, sighing softly as she adjusted in her spot. If it weren’t for the optometrist nagging her about reading in the dark, she would’ve snuffed out the candle ages ago. Even the slightest amount of heat it emitted was seemingly canceling out any scarce breeze that came along. Finally, she closed her book in her lap. “I’m just restless, it’s no one’s fault but my own”.

Ciel looked at her. She had grown up too, more than himself, he’d argue. Her hair was always down, framing a face that had sharpened from once being stout. The way her eyebrows were always slightly furrowed made it appear that she was in a constant train of deep thought, a trait no doubt adopted from her mother. Sharp, calm, and opinionated was how he’d describe her. All her girly traits and pleasures were still there under the hard shell she had created to protect herself, just over time they became more strictly reserved for those closest to her. He understood this all too well and did not question her when she had started to change. He’d been numb to her beauty before, but the longer he stayed around her, the quicker the ice within began to thaw. 

Her explanation was met with a hum. It’s not that he was indifferent to her discomfort. If she asked for something, he’d see to it immediately. They both knew this, sitting and silently staring at one another in the darkness. “Should we go for a walk?” He suggested, gesturing to the vast acreage at their disposal below. 

Elizabeth turned her head slightly in confusion, like a dog that can’t understand what is being told of them to do. “At this hour? And with no shoes?” She asked, her book moving from her lap to the table as she adjusted her nightgown around her legs. This was another thing she was not used to: the freedom that came with marriage. There was no more chaperoning or parental observation. It was just the two of them and the privacy their home provided. It was freeing. Surely, she understood that this was quite the paradoxical take on marriage for the times. Many women her age, many that she personally knew, would rather describe their arrangements similar to that of a bird having its wings clipped. Grounded, caged, and miserable. Ciel never made her feel that way though, intentionally or not. 

“Shoes can be easily acquired” He responded cooly, a successful attempt at humor in her opinion. He sat forward in his chair, his own tiredness revealing itself around his eyes. If he felt compelled to, he was close enough that he could reach out and touch her, but he didn’t. “I think it would help if we did” He said as a way to compel her to agree with him. He used this tactic often, even if it really was just for her benefit. 

Contemplating, her eyes narrowed at him, waiting for him to change his mind or suggest something else. Reciprocated silence was all she received, causing her to reach over and pinch out the flame. “Alright, let’s find you some shoes then” She said as she stood, taking his arm and tucking her book under the other. 

-

They walked arm in arm through the garden paths, the white moonlight lightening everything enough to be navigated in the dark. The pair was silent, not stopping to admire anything like you normally would in the daytime. Despite being closer than ever before, they didn’t know what to do with each other. Marriage had widely opened the door for intimacy, but the furthest they’d got was fervent kissing and uncertain groping. The truth was that neither of them were ready for the consequences that came with the act of being intimate; that they both agreed on. In the first few weeks of their marriage, Elizabeth realized something else. Most of their personal interactions throughout adolescence had been centered around conflict. It had been fighting, bleeding, arguing, testing, and crying. And now that there was no conflict, they did not know how to interact. Now there was just domesticity that they were both unfamiliar with.

“Do you have a favorite animal?” Ciel asked out of the blue after some time, choosing which paths they were walking along. He knew them best.

The question dragged Elizabeth back down to Earth from her thoughts so suddenly that she wasn’t sure he had even opened his mouth to speak. Perhaps the walk really was helping her become tired. “A favorite animal?” She repeated back, mostly to make sure she wasn’t completely hallucinating. 

“Yes, if you have one” He responded simply.

Elizabeth thought about it for a moment. This was one of the lesser profound questions she’d been asked by him, grateful in her exhausted state that it lacked complexity. She mentally narrowed it down to a few options before giving her final answer. “Deer. I think deer are my favorite. I’ve always had an affinity towards them”.

Ciel turned to her at this, though she did not move from his arm, so they were standing terribly close. Marble benches and statues around them were exceptionally illuminated from the moon. “And why is that?” He asked. 

Even given the warmth in the dead of night that had bothered her so badly before, she couldn’t help but lean into the heat he was giving off. “Well… they’re pretty innocent animals. They’re too small to be put to work but too big to be domesticated by humans. So they just… exist”. She explained to him, allowing their bodies to continue moving in tandem. 

“Do your parents know about your fascination with deer?”. His voice almost carried some laughter in it. It was ironic given that her parents were avid hunters, taking pride in slaughtering an animal she cared so deeply about. Even Ciel knew about this obsession, which caused her to smile as a childhood memory resurfaced in her mind. 

Nodding as she briefly closed her eyes to recall the story. “Yes, in fact when I was young, maybe 9 or 10, I wrote my father this long letter about how I didn’t want him to hunt deer anymore. He was upset that I was defying him in a way but also impressed that I was able to speak my mind so freely at a young age”. She said up to him, leaning her head against the side of his arm. 

Now, he was laughing, or really more of an amused chuckle. Probably imagining the dramatics of it all, something her father was an expert in. “Please tell me you remember what you wrote in that letter. Or still have it stored away somewhere so I can read it”.

“Something about how deer are God’s creatures and that it’s cruel to hunt something just because it doesn’t serve a human purpose”. Elizabeth smiled as she replayed the scenes, looking much different from a child’s perspective. It really was an earnest attempt on her part. “My father won’t give the letter back to me. So if you want to see it, you’ll have to ask him”.

Satisfied with her reply, they fell back into a comfortable silence. They were not keeping track of time while they walked, though it was obvious morning was approaching as the sky slowly transformed into a deep shade of blue instead of black. Eventually, the question was reciprocated.

“Owls. I think they’re fascinating” Ciel answered after his own pause of contemplation. “I don’t have some historical emotional attachment like you do though, so my answer is far less interesting”, he teased. At some point, they stopped underneath a tree that made the manor appear small in the distance. 

“You know–” She started, having detached herself from his arm to lean against the tree instead. “– now that I think about it, you’re a lot like a deer”. 

“How so?” He inquired back, crossing his arms across his chest as he waited for a response. He felt that she was always coming up with the most intelligent things to say. It always impressed him.

Smiling, which was never a good sign from her, reaching her hands forward to rest on his chest. “Well… you have these big, round, beautiful eyes that everyone can’t seem to resist” She started, eliciting an eye roll from Ciel. “...And you have these long limbs you still don’t seem to know what to do with” She continued, enjoying the way it made him shake his head and smile. “And I think you’re very innocent, regardless of what you think”.

Ciel looked at her for a long while, finding strange comfort in her words. It wasn’t necessarily a compliment, but rather a fond observation he was unaware she’d been making. Years in the making, he’d bet. He knew too that partially he was being taunted back, but did not mind. “What about the whole domestication part? Do you think that’s accurate too?”. He asked, disguising his need for confirmation as playful banter.

Her eyes narrowed again as she considered her reply. She saw right through the disguise. Normally she would gush over him, tell him that he’s a fantastic husband and even more reliable partner, and to never question it. Deeply, she still believed all that to be true, but chose a different response instead. “I do, but I’m more than content to just exist with you. There’s really nothing else I’d ask for in this life”. 

So, they returned back to their manor and their bed, no longer restless. Still hot, but definitely not restless.

[skateisawesome]

yes i am just like every other bitch on this app and i will be doing a notes challenge!

okay i doubt its gonna reach the goal but my last one did so who knows!!!

10 notes and ill take my dog for a walk

20 notes and ill clean out all of my drawers

30 notes and ill start drinking more water each day (i currently have like maybe 1 cup)

40 notes and ill try to start regularly writing in my journal

50 notes and i fix my sleep schedule (ive been going to bed at like 8am)

60 notes and ill start practicing my instruments more

70 notes and ill talk to my therapist about derealisation/depersonalisation or whatever its called

80 notes and ill buy new clothes that i actually like wearing and make me feel good about myself

100 notes and ill take all of my old clothes to a charity shop or like donation place idk

and uhh one unrealistic one is that if this gets 2k notes i will fully cut off all of the people in my life who treat me like shit!!