#Candle dear✨

[silver-spoon-ii]

Do you get jealous of Yin-yang when they get to hang out with candle?

hmmm….well….specifically with yin yang I don’t really get jealous as they have more of a familial bond with candle. I know how important it can be to have someone you look up to when you are yin yangs age.

[kitten4sannie]

kitten fever

pairing: cat hybrid husband! sannie x fem! reader

genre: hybrid au, smut

summary: after you put your baby to sleep and head to bed yourself, you come to the discovery that your dear husband just hit his rut and desperately wants to put another baby in you.

w.c: 2.6k

warnings: needy pussydrunk maniac! san, service sub! reader, they’re giving switch energy as well <3, san gets lost in subspace, big cawk sannie, only pet names/praise (baby, mama/mommy (only a few times trust), sweetheart, princess), san likes to be called kitty, san humps reader’s pillow out of desperation, kissing, wet and messy, possessiveness, grinding, nipple play (f/m receiving), lactation kink (muahahahaha), face sitting that turns into a 69, oral (f/m receiving), good ol fashioned unprotected missionary, heavy breeding kink, bulge kink, knotting, creampie, just so, so much cum……

a/n: i did a poll a lil while back to ask what vibe everyone wanted for sannie’s bday fic and soft, sweet love making with husband sannie won by a landslide ~~ but ofc i had to add my lil spin to it and made him a hybrid husband in heat hehe <33 i wrote this all in one go just rn bc i’m a ✨chronic procrastinator✨ so i had less time to perfect it but i hope it’s just as enjoyable as my other fics 🥹🫶🏼 that being said, enjoy lovelies~

song rec: same dream, same mind, same night by svt (this is a love making song and you cannot convince me otherwise 🙂‍↕️) - sex on fire by kings of leon - terrible love by boston manor (“tell me i’m everything you want~ tell me you need me~ give it everything you’ve got, so give it all~” <33)

“Hush, little baby, don’t you cry, mama’s gonna sing you a lullaby,” you cooed gently in a sing-song voice to the sweet angel laying still inside her crib, continuing your soft serenade until her eyes closed, surrendering to another night of much needed rest after a long day of adventure and learning, her tiny fingers slowly releasing the grip they had on one of yours, her tiny fluffy tail uncurling from your wrist. When you saw that your babygirl had fallen asleep, you gave her a loving kiss on the forehead, before exiting the bedroom and heading to your own.

It had taken a fair amount of time to get your baby to go to sleep, making you wonder if your husband had fallen asleep himself while he was waiting for you to come back. He must’ve been tired, especially after how worked up he was during the day, zooming around the house to get chores done despite there not being a rush, not even giving you the opportunity to make dinner either when he put his signature ‘kiss the cat’ apron on, and somehow still having the energy to run a few miles on his treadmill afterwards, claiming he still had the zoomies.

As soon as you cracked open the door, you could hear whimpering and soft, breathy panting coming from deeper inside the low lit room, a few candles burning away on your respective nightstands. Poor, sweet Sannie was probably having a nightmare of some sort. You would have to wake him.

“Baby, nnngh, need you, need you so bad, wanna be inside you, need to give you more kitties,” San voiced desperately to no one, hunched over and driving his heavy, leaking cock back and forth across the plush, pre-cum stained pillow that was kept on your side of the bed, his sweaty raven bangs sticking to his forehead, his tufted ears splayed out in opposite directions. He lowered his head further to take in your warm, flowery scent, letting out an instinctive growl and bucking his hips forward until he began to emit little breathy ‘ah, ah, ah’s’. He slowly dragged his throbbing cock along the feathered pillow, leaving thick, milky cum shots onto the previously pristine material. “Cummingggg, filling you up so deep, mama, it won’t stop….”

Well, it seems like you wouldn’t have to wake him. Your husband was already wide awake and seemingly trying to impregnate your pillow. You entered the room and closed the door behind you, causing San to look up at you with big boba eyes, his ears now on high alert, sheepishness overtaking his blushing features and a gentle, understanding one forming on yours. “Oh, my sweet Sannie, is this why you were so active today? Are you in a rut?”

San tried to cover up the evidence he left all over your pillow, his long fluffy tail curling shyly around one of his bare legs, his stained briefs riding up a bit near his inner thighs. “I-i didn’t wanna tell you because it’s hard for me to control myself when I’m like this…I can only think of one thing…”

You took a few steps forward until you were standing at the foot of the bed, hovering over San, your hands already making their way to his overheated face to caress it. “And what is that, kitty?”

San just about melted into your touch, his hot breath fanning over your skin when he sighed, gazing up at you past his fluttering lashes. “Breeding my beautiful wife…” he whispered softly, turning his head to press a lingering kiss into the palm of your hand. “I want to make love to you….feel and taste every single inch of you…remind you why you’re mine…” He whimpered, closing his eyes for a second, before they returned to you, his eyebrows upturned with desperation, his glistening lips parted ever so slightly. “I’m burning up just thinking about it…”

You leaned down to press a gentle kiss onto his forehead, then his cheek, leaving one on his trembling lips afterwards. “Then, what are you waiting for, Sannie? Let’s play.”

-

“Baby, your pretty kitty, mmmnn, feels so good,” San panted, breaking the heated, messy kiss you were sharing to moan from the way you were eagerly grinding yourself on his lap, his hardened cock pressing up directly into your slippery, hot cunt, a bit of drool escaping his lips, only for you to lap it up from his chin, before your tongue repeatedly swirled around his. “Wanna knot you…”

“Not yet, Sannie….wanna have more fun with you first…” When San began to whimper and squirm around, you reached past his head to grab onto the headboard with both hands, pressing your forehead to his to keep him locked in on you. “You wanna feel me all over, yeah?” You moved your hips in a more precise motion, the pronounced edge of his cockhead catching onto your clit each time your cunt dragged up and down his length, making the both of you let out a collective moan. You lifted up your body a bit so that your heavy tits were bouncing ever so slightly in his face, watching as your husband fell into a trance. “Wanna taste me too, don’t you, baby?”

“Yes, mama, wan’ it all,” San nodded drunkenly, repeatedly licking at his lips and fangs, bringing his hands up to your tits to feel the weight of them, squeezing into them slightly, his tail quickly slamming against the side of the bed as though he were a dog. He knew they were filled with milk, and it drove him absolutely nuts.

How adorable. Your kitten was too predictable. You pressed your tits together, holding them near his pretty blushing face. “Does kitty need milk?”

“Yes, please!” San opened his mouth up just in time for you to press your chest into his face, his lips closing around one of your nipples, licking and sucking at it until he began to taste the sweet essence of your milk. Deep purrs reverberated from his chest and throat, clearly content, letting go of one tit to focus on the other, pinching your nipple to watch as your milk spurted out of it and landed on his small pink tongue.

“Nnngh, that’s good, baby…” Humming, you ran your fingers through your husband’s soft hair as he gently coaxed more of the milkiness out of your tits one by one, eventually reaching down to rub your thumbs over his nipples, rolling them in circles until he began to let out muffled moans and whimpers. “Sannie’s so sensitive, hm? Even more sensitive now that he’s in a rut…so desperate for Mommy’s kitty.”

San gulped your sweetness down, a few drops dribbling down his chest, before he gasped at the sensation of you pinching his sensitive buds. “Y-yes, Sannie wants to be inside mama so bad….” He nibbled on one of your puffy nipples, dragging his rough tongue over it just to hear you whine, looking up at you to take in your suddenly submissive gaze. “My pretty girl’s sensitive too, I take it.”

“Always, because of that tongue of yours…” you murmured, digging your nails into the headboard when he forcefully pushed your tits together and ran his tongue back and forth over your nipples, biting them with his fangs for good measure.

“S-sannie…!”

When San felt a fresh wave of slick leak out onto his lap, his eyes started to narrow into slits, his instinctive urge to dominate you beginning to slip past the surface of his hazy mind. “So wet for me, aren’t you, sweetheart? It’s all going to waste too….Such a shame…”

“Wanna lick it up, kitty?” you asked sweetly, bringing your lips down to his, tasting the sweetness of your milk on his moving tongue.

“Mm. Sit on my face, princess,” he commanded in a slightly deeper tone, waiting for you to climb off of him so that he could lower himself down onto the bed. Just as you faced away from him and lifted your leg up to go over him, San grabbed you by your soft hips and pulled you down onto his face, immediately getting to work.

San dipped his tongue between your slick lips and dragged it up, painfully slow at first, so that he could savor your warm taste, licking a long stripe toward and then over your clit. He repeated this action until all that could be heard in the room was his wet tongue coming in contact with your soaking cunt, along with the groans he was letting out with each lick. Opening his eyes to admire your pretty plush pussy, he pressed a kiss onto your bud, before sucking on it with varying degrees of intensity, reveling in the way his pretty wife moaned desperately for more. “That’s it, huh, babygirl? Your pussy’s getting so messy, you must be getting close already….”

“F-fuck, yes, I’m close…don’t stop, Sannie,” you sighed out, suddenly distracted by the sight of your husband’s throbbing cock standing at full attention between his thighs. Licking at your lips, you carefully lowered yourself down until you could slurp and suck the pre-cum that pooled out of his reddened cockhead with ease, opening your mouth wide enough to take most of his cock down your throat inch by inch.

“Oh my god, baby, I won’t last if you do that….” San tossed his head back for a second, temporarily losing himself to the pleasure of having his cock buried inside the hot, wet heaven of your mouth and throat, moaning hoarsely all the while. Feeling more of your slick drip onto his heated skin, he remembered about his current mission. Once his tongue returned to your dripping slit, you started to rock your hips in time with San’s lips, your clit even bumping against your husband’s nose, your thighs beginning to tremble.

You took San’s cock down your throat as deep as it would go, using your spilling saliva to jerk off the rest of his length that you couldn’t reach with your mouth, hearing him begin to emit muffled whimpers and curses against your pulsing cunt, feeling his thighs tighten up underneath your touch.

You continued to move in sync, your hips now desperately rocking against San’s splayed out tongue, your moans playing a hypnotic rhythm. You always seemed to fall into this matching pattern of giving and receiving, losing yourselves in each other’s love and pleasure. Just as you began to squirm around, San’s hands slipped from your thighs where they were previously squeezing to your waist, wrapping them tightly around your middle to keep you still as your release poured out onto his tongue.

“Sannieeee, so good, so good, gonna cum,” you whined out once you pulled yourself off of his cock, your lips connected to the sticky tip with a few strands of milky saliva.

“Me too, baby, me too. Fuck, take it for me, okay? Be good and take it all,” San moaned against your convulsing cunt, lapping up the rest of your arousal, just as he began to shudder, forcefully tossing his head back into his pillow.

You caught the seemingly endless stream of cum on your tongue, some of it shooting into the back of your throat. You swallowed it all without hesitation, before climbing off of him and leaning down to press your lips onto his.

He eagerly kissed you back, gently lowering you down onto the mattress so that he could climb on top of you, the both of you desperately exchanging your warm arousal with one another, only breaking the dizzying kiss when neither of you could take a proper breath. “I love you, Y/N…” he whispered near your cheek.

“I love you too, San…”

Gazing deeply into your half-lidded eyes, San gently lowered his body weight onto you, not having to ask to know what you both needed when he positioned himself near your entrance and slipped right in, the both of you moaning in unison.

“Ready for my litter, baby? I’m gonna fill you up over and over, okay? I won’t stop until you tell me to…” Saliva pooled in San’s mouth as a low, deep purr rumbled inside his chest. Part human or not, your husband’s cat-like traits still made themselves present when he was sheathed inside you like this, especially now that he was in a rut.

“Yes, give it all to me, Sannie, I want your kitties,” you begged breathlessly, hardly able to think now that you were getting stretched out by your husband’s thick length, your legs hooking around his small waist once he began to recklessly drill himself into you.

“I’ll give it all to you, baby, have it all, have all of me.” Huffing and puffing, San pounded his cock into you, slipping out a few times due to how incredibly wet you were, taking the time to slap his cock down onto your abdomen, just to show the both of you how his length just about reached your ribs, watching you swallow hard, your hazy, tear filled eyes sparkling with anticipation.

“I can take it, Sannie. I can, I promise,” you reminded him gently, just as he slipped back inside you, pounding your pussy as if he had never stopped.

“Yes, you can, you’re gonna take it all, because you’re mine, mine, mine,” San groaned out near your ear like a mantra, his heavy body flush against yours, your legs hanging off of his broad shoulders, slamming his cock into you like you were just a toy, your cunt taking it like you were made specifically for him, his tail wrapped tightly around one of your ankles, almost acting as an anchor to keep the both of you from slipping out of reality.

“Yours, yours, yours…” you chanted back, your nails starting to dig and rake down his back, starting to fade away once your high rapidly took over. “Sannieeee, give me your knot, please…”

Almost as if on command, San’s knot began to form inside your cunt, stretching you out to the max. He pulled back slightly so that he could press his hands into your abdomen, feeling just how thick and heavy his cock was inside of you. “That’s my good girl…Look at you….my pretty little wife, taking all of my knot like this. It’s gonna break and your womb’s gonna be flooded with my cum, you know…You wanna get knocked up again for me, baby?”

“Mm-hmm!”

He nosed at your neck, taking in your pretty scent, whispering, “Help me breed you, baby.”

“Breed me, kitty….Make me yours forever…” You clutched your hands into his waist and pulled his hips taut to yours, your cunt clenching around his cock just as San melted into you, whispering countless promises of love, mixed with involuntary curses into your ear, the dam finally breaking.

A short, broken cry tore out of your throat as you squirted onto San’s twitching cock, endless waves of hot cum pouring out past your cervix and filling your womb up with his potent seed, rendering you vulnerable to the very real possibility of impregnation by your dear hybrid husband. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Purring, San pulled you into his arms and began to lick at the tears that had stained your flushed cheeks, grooming you in his own special way. He nuzzled into you, his tail coiling protectively around one of your wrists, his lips ghosting along your jaw, one of his twitching ears tickling your own. “We’ll have to paint our baby girl’s room half blue if we end up having a boy.”

You giggled, nuzzling into your husband’s loving touch. “Bold of you to assume we won’t have another girl.”

San smiled at you, his brown eyes sparkling with love and adoration for you. “That’s fine. I’m a girl dad, after all.”

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[erebus0dora]

my dearest, my loveliest, my most beloved fellow connoisseurs of a certain gremlin, it has been ten days now since i had the wildest idea of The Armand-Shaped Chaos Project, and boy oh boy

it is done

it is alive

and it bleeds and it burns oh so bright fghhgghnnhhh

those who guessed it was going to be a candle: ✨you guessed right✨

he burns and he faintly smells of honey because i used beeswax (ngl i was contemplating adding pineapple scent if u catch my drift, mhm)

my dear friend @yakyuu-yarou also suggested to add the red core so that he doesn't just BURN, he BLEEDS, and i have a tiny bit of footage of that exact thing (GIF below the cut)

imma make a proper reveal post with the details of the project and all that jazz, but for now i really need to sleep since it's been a truly wild ride 💜

[yuujispinkhair]

Hi Winter~

I hope you're having a great day✨

Today is my birthday! Could I request something with modern boyfie Sukuna?

I love youuuuuuuuuuu🥺✨

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, BABE 💗 Have an amazing day!! I wish you all the love and happiness! Here is a little drabble ;)

SPENDING YOUR BDAY WITH BOYFIE SUKUNA

Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female) Fluff + mentions of smut. 18+. Minors don't interact.

Modern boyfie!Sukuna wakes you up with bday sex. And he makes sure to love his bday girl thoroughly, not stopping until you squeal his name and scratch his broad, tattooed back while he groans "Happy birthday, princess," against your neck.

He insists on carrying you princess-style to the bathroom afterward, cradling you in his strong arms and kissing your forehead. And when you jokingly ask him if carrying you around is part of his bday special, Sukuna grins that sexy boyish smirk at you and is like,

"Of course, I'm carrying you. My girl doesn't have to lift a single finger on her special day! What kind of loser would I be if I didn't take the best care of you?"

And you laugh and cup his tattooed cheeks and kiss him. Though, you know that Sukuna takes such good care of you all the time, not just on your birthday. You smile while soaking in the bathtub in your favorite bubble bath, your skin still tingling from Sukuna's kisses and touches while he is in the kitchen preparing your bday breakfast.

And then you are finally dressed and make it to the kitchen, your boyfriend's beautiful maroon eyes sparkle at you full of pride and love as he presents to you the birthday cake he made for you.

Sukuna spent three days working on it, baking all of it himself, and making all the decorations himself, too. It's truly a masterpiece, and you grin happily, imagining how much your dear boyfie must have cursed during the process anytime something didn't work the way he wanted. But it turned out perfectly. And he did all that for you. Because you are his love.

You hug Sukuna tightly, thanking him and unable to stop smiling as he turns you around so you can try the first piece of your cake while Sukuna stands behind you, his strong, tattooed arms wrapped around you, his tall body pressing lightly against your back. His large hands sprawl over your hips, and you can feel his smile against your neck when he kisses you there.

"I love you, princess. Happy birthday."

He lets you feed him cake later on, making you laugh when Sukuna rolls his eyes in pleasure and praises his own baking skills, though you agree with him because the cake really tastes heavenly.

But the cake isn't all Sukuna has planned. This day is only for you and him, and he takes you shopping later on and gives you the rest of your presents, beautiful flowers, and a necklace he saw you ogling once when you were window-shopping.

Sukuna's large, tattooed hand holds yours the whole time you stroll through the streets and the shopping malls. And you can't help but lean against him, smiling happily when you smell his sexy cologne and feel his buff biceps flex against your cheek.

In the evening, Sukuna leads you to your favorite restaurant, where he booked a table decorated with rose petals and candles. It's the most romantic dinner you've ever had, with Sukuna looking so sexy in the suit he is wearing for the special occasion and smiling that dazzling smile that is only reserved for you. He truly made you feel like a birthday girl today 💗

AWWW spending your bday with boyfie Sukuna sounds so sweet to me. I hope you enjoyed it!! Have a wonderful day 💗💗

Thank you so much for reading! Reblogs and comments would be sweet.

[magickkate]

Good Evening! 🌙✨ Are you ready to infuse a dash of magic into your daily culinary adventures? Welcome to the whimsical world of Kitchen Witchery—a delightful blend of spell work, herbalism, and culinary enchantment! 🌿🧙‍♀️✨

🍲 Basic Ingredients for Your Magical Pantry:

Herbs: Rosemary for protection, basil for love, and mint for healing. Experiment with your favorites!

Spices: Cinnamon for prosperity, ginger for energy, and nutmeg for luck. Let your taste buds guide your magical choices!

Crystals: Place a few on your kitchen windowsill for added energy. Clear quartz, amethyst, and rose quartz are popular choices.

🌈 Setting Up Your Kitchen Altar:

Choose a Sacred Space: Designate a corner of your kitchen for magical workings. A windowsill, shelf, or small table works wonders!

Magical Tools: Incorporate a cauldron, candles, and small bowls for herbs and crystals. Personalize it with items close to your heart.

🕯️ Candle Magic in the Kitchen:

Color Magic: Choose candle colors aligning with your intentions. Green for abundance, white for purification, and red for passion.

Enchant While Cooking: Stir your intentions into soups, sauces, and stews. Feel the magic in every motion!

🍵 Brewing Magical Teas:

Create Tea Blends: Mix herbs like chamomile, lavender, and mint for relaxation or energy. Sip with intention and let the magic steep into your soul.

🌕 Harvesting Moon Energies:

Full Moon Feasts: Plan magical meals during the full moon for amplifying energy. Charge crystals and herbs under the moonlight for added potency.

📚 Witchy Wisdom:

Start a Grimoire: Record your magical experiences, recipes, and discoveries. It’s your personal book of kitchen enchantments!

Experiment & Trust Intuition: There are no strict rules in kitchen witchery. Trust your instincts, and let your intuition guide your magical creations.

🌻 Infusing Love into Every Bite:

Cook Mindfully: Turn cooking into a meditation. Infuse your dishes with gratitude, love, and positive energy.

Share the Magic: Share your enchanted meals with loved ones. The joy of kitchen witchery multiplies when shared!

🌿 Nature’s Bounty:

Grow Your Own: Cultivate a small herb garden or keep potted plants in your kitchen. Nothing beats the magic of using homegrown herbs!

Remember, dear beginner kitchen witch, your journey is as unique as the flavors you create. Embrace the magic in simplicity, trust your instincts, and let the cauldron of your heart stir up spells of nourishment and enchantment! 🌈🌟💖 ✨🌿🔮

[alastorsfuckassbob]

You're Never Fully Dressed-

Alastorxfem!reader

oh boy everyone's favorite! Please I have never written before, I just figured I'd give it a shot it was 1:35 and I was not feeling sleepy so an hour later here it is, its not edited so SORRY ABOUT THAT- all of my friends are normal and would definitely not proof read this hot garbo!

Basic Plot!! Yikes another song fic i know i KNOWW, the reader knew our good pal Al in her life but oopsies he "left" her (he died duh) and now shes taking a sad hot girl bubble bath to reminisce!!

Lyrics are bolded, past events Italics for the most part.

ALSO Please DNI if you're a minor k thanks bye!! You are responsible for your own internet consumption, so here are the warnings! If you don't want to view that ✨dont✨

Warnings include:

-Swearing

-Violence

-Alcohol Use but not abuse! (its hell duh)

-Abusive Relationships

-Slight Innuendo but not a strong one!

-Angst

The fire danced, flitting left and right. It was different than any other fire set in hell, it wasn't meant to hurt anyone or destroy anything. It was just a small flame, melancholically melting the dripping wax down the white lilac scented pillar. Floral scents were hard to come by unless you made them yourself, it was hell after all, its not like theres a flower garden planted on every corner. The candles single wick didn't produce more than a drop of light. It just flickered every now and then, entertaining its own little lonesome sway. Your demeanor softened as you looked at it from the petal filled bath you currently resided in.

Oddly you felt at peace, understood, almost comforted. You had learned to dance the same way it seemed. You caught yourself when you fell, twisting and turning to please an audience. It was a cruel existence. At least the flame looked content in some way, at least it would never know what it was like to contort under the will of another. Yet it was still a light in darkness, shining for no other reason than to survive...All it could ever do was take, even if it didn't want to, fire needs to burn. To burn it must destroy. You sighed sinking deeper into the bubbly water. You didn't want to think about your past. Not anymore. You didn't have to anymore anyway. Life had not been kind to you and that constant displeasure followed you through your death and into the pits of hell. Funny how suffering could follow biting desperately at your heels and the man who was so "desperately" in love with you in life just couldn't find it within himself to stay...God you sounded bitter. To be fair you were. After all he had ruined your life and he didn't even know it...It wasn't that bad was it? You probably would still be in hell regardless, even without his "involvement" or lack of- you had always been a sinner. It wasn't worth it to be upset, not anymore he's most likely dead, you definitely are, whose to say if he'd even wind up down here. You paused a moment, laughing at the silly conclusion overthinking had led you to.. no that fucker is definitely in hell. Sweet as he was up front, he had a dark side that went much deeper than his soft exterior could cover. You closed your eyes..

1923- Central New Orleans

Suddenly it was 1923. The flower lined streets of late spring in New Orleans. His smile never wavering as he dragged you from store to store. As your dear companion, and biggest supporter, he had asked you to assist him at the radio station. Now that you had finished school you would need a job anyway. You'd always had a beautiful voice and a knack for writing. It just made sense. His hand squeezed yours lightly pulling you from your thoughts. In his hands, he held a burgundy day dress and a matching bow.

"Darling, would you try this on for me? I believe it is high time you were rewarded for all of your hard work. I believe you would simply sparkle in this color"

You smile softly at his gentle tone, taking the delicate dress in your hands. You find yourself caught in his eyes. It feels like you two are the only people on the planet

You feel the familiar sensation of tears on your face, you open your eyes again, you hadn't realized you'd started crying.

you let out the shrill scream you didn't know you were holding in. the fluke of champagne you had so tediously been savoring since you began your bath cracked slightly. You downed the rest of the glass, and grabbed the bottle sitting lazily on the floor. You didn't want to think about him or your life anymore...but it consumed you. You had so many more important things to fret about in your..current..environment. Songs to sing, bitches to kill, people to fuck. A grand glorious array of newer shinier problems, and yet you were stuck sulking about the past. You take a deep breath shaking slightly despite the warm vanilla scented water surrounding you. You remove your hand from the water motioning to the shadow hiding behind a vase (of no more than slightly wilted roses). It slinks forward at your beckoning, climbing to the white marble countertop of your vanity, it clicks the worn down knob of your rickety old radio. light jazzy music trickles out and fills the air with lovesick nostalgia you weren't entirely prepared to let in. No matter what he had done...you would always fall back to him. Even if he was nothing more than ill-fated failed fourteen year "endeavor". fourteen years is quite a long time, even if the majority of it was spent more or less platonically. You really did love him. Love doesn't always follow those that leave, you are testimony and truth to that. You let your mind wander guided by the static filled notes of the radio.

Hey, hobo man

Hey, Dapper Dan

You've both got your style

But brother

You're never fully dressed

Without a smile!

Even through the shudder of the static, it really did sound like him. Despite being the "host" of the station. He had his fair share of performances. For such a Hell bound soul he had the voice of an angel.

You close your eyes once again and allow the melody to take you back to an easier time.

1926- New Orleans, Your apartment

You sing along with whatever tune the radio gives you. You're at peace, simply existing for no other reason than to be with your friend.

"Dance with me my little canary, your voice lights a fire within me"

He pulls you in by the waist. His hands splayed across your hips holding them with a gentleness you'd never expected him to hold for you. He leans his head down against the yours and places a chaste kiss on your forehead

"Alastor" you giggle, the sensation tickling you slightly. "You are quite ridiculous"

"Ridiculous?" he feigns hurt. "My darling I am so far from ridiculous the word does not find sense within my ears" he spins you around and into his chest, you roll your eyes ignoring his antics

"Dearest are you aware you are speaking with the future of radio?"

"The future of radio? Please Love, don't jest. The 20s surely have more in store than you" You laugh into his chest and he shockingly laughs with you.

Neither of you know it but you are both so drunk on the sound. To you, his laugh sounds like the swift church bells that used to ring throughout your home town whenever someone got married. It feels familiar and yet like a distant memory. It makes you want to hear it over and over again until your ears stop working, and even then you'd settle in just fine feeling the vibrations of his chest. He sounds like home. To him, your laugh sounds like the rushing creek and smooth algae covered stones resting deep beneath the trees draped in Spanish moss of his mothers cabin in the woods. Just hearing your laugh he can feel the spotted sunlight speckling his freckled face underneath the big willow tree. You sound like home. Everything about you- it felt like home to him. His hands were crafted to hold soft curves of your body. His ears were made to hear your voice and your voice alone. You were purpose, his home. You don't know it, but it is that realization that sparked the idea of marriage into his heart.

That fire was put out not long after.

You at least had those nine years as his friend, three years as his "copain" if you will- and two years as his fiancée...and so many years alone. You only spent 14 years in the company of this man. You had lived before knowing him a good 17 years, and a good long bit after.

Why were you so stuck?

You hum along subconsciously, the objects in your bathroom begin to glow a familiar pink, levitating slightly in the air as you continue to hum. Your ability isn't weak by any means, but for some reason you were. You were nothing in comparison to hells overlords, especially the newest trio of Vs. Your power is so deeply connected to your voice, how can you hold power when it doesn't belong to you anymore? You drift back to the memory of your arrival. Scared, alone, dressed a great deal less than modestly, and equipped with nothing more than a pair of horns, some wings you couldn't quite use yet, and a thin devil like tail. It was only your third hour in hell. You didn't understand the rules. You were playing a twisted game in which you didn't realize you were just another piece of.

Shock can make a person anxious and fear will make them stupid. He was tall and smelled distinctly of cigars, soured whiskey, and something pungently sweet you couldn't name. It burned your nose as you inhaled it. You would become well aquatinted with the smell of lust in the years to come, you just didn't know it yet. It seemed innocent at first, just a simple contract, no different than a job. All you had to do was sing and dance at a club, in exchange for safety. But it was different and it wasn't innocent. He was cruel and yet no different than so many of the men you had dealt with in life. He agreed to your terms of anonymity and thats about it. You had your private life and his life. Valentino never played fair. You didn't know that yet, and now you're hells favorite sinner, a least no one knew it was you. If he had asked you another day later you would have realized you could have probably fended for yourself, with some difficulty anyway. At least you wouldn't have to be in this mess. You wouldn't be fucking six people before noon. You wouldn't be constantly covered in bruises and scars...Maybe you could have found him, Alastor that is. Maybe you could have at least been friends again. Its silly to hope for anything more since your romantic relationship ended...✨the way it did✨

Your clothes may be Beau Brummelly

They stand out a mile

But brother

You're never fully dressed

Without a smile!

1931- New Orleans, The river

The two of you sit beside each other in a small wooden row boat. Your hair is tied back with your signature crimson ribbon. He fiddles with the pocket of his jacket. The Louisiana soundscape of crickets, frogs and running water accompanies your conversation. Fireflies light up the air, almost bringing the stars down to your fingertips. With a buzz and a gentle green glow, the small creature lands on your hand. Your smile leaks wonderment and Alastor can hardly contain the love he feels for you.

As a Radio Host, he is quite agile in the way of words, yet something about you has him constantly at a loss. He takes a deep breath, unsure of what to say his voice wavers as he begins to speak.

"y/n, I want to thank you for the effect you've had in my lif-"

"My love look at the stars!" You didn't mean to cut him off, Your arms stretched upwards your face turning to meet his. The stars were so much brighter then they were in the city, it was only natural for you to be excited

"Yes doll, I see them, they're the same as they were last night and many many nights before hand"

You let out an impatient huff

"that doesn't make them any less beautiful." a mischievous glint hides in your eyes "now wouldn't it be so dreadfully terrible if I got bored looking at you just because I've already seen you before?" You fake a yawn and look at him eyes seething with boredom

"It would be so dreadful considering I was about to propose to you"

There is no other word to describe what you felt other than shocked. You had been an item for quite some time, but you never figured he would stick around (and "seal the deal" if you will).

Tears begin to run down your face rambling small words of agreement and love. You had never expected him to..love you that way. He was who he was, a dreadfully popular radio host, and you weren't really anything more than an assistant. People really only listened for him..yet in this moment, he was speaking only for you.

"I love you so dearly my y/n. If life without you exists I do not want to exist through it"

Who cares what they're wearing

On Main Street

Or Saville Row

1934: New Orleans, Alastor's house

The house was empty. He was gone. Fully and truly gone. It had been a year since you'd seen or heard from him and six months since the birth of your son. It didn't feel like your house, it didn't feel like your life anymore. It was all still his. His things still bled into your side of the closet, his last purchase, a book, dust encrusted and unread. The blankets and pillows set on the couch exactly as you both had left them after falling asleep to the rain the night before he left wordlessly. You found yourself sporting one of his shirts more often than your own...until eventually they didn't smell like him anymore. The whole house used to reek of his signature vanilla smell. Theres nothing left here but dust and the crooked board of the desk he insisted he could build himself "just fine".

It's what you wear from ear to ear

And not from head to toe

That matters

1936- New Orleans; ✨that shitty bar you performed at✨

"Get the fuck up you bitch"

You felt his hand tangle in your hair and pull you to your knees. All you could do was groan in pain.

"I'm so sorry it won't happen again I promise"

You mutter almost to yourself. He rolls his eyes shoving you into the counter smashing a glass in the process. Your vision blurs for a second seeing the glass shards decorating your h/c locks in a halo. You feel the blood trickle down your forehead.

"Do you think anyone else would hire you? A whore with nothing to her name and a useless ugly bastard child from god knows who?" You feel angered at his words. Insulting you is one thing, but your child?

But then it sinks in, he's right. The 30s are a sick decade, nothing progressive about them. No one else would hire you. You are lucky to work here..despite it all. You tell yourself anything is better than living on the streets. The mantra doesn't dull the pain but it makes it easier to put up with. You don't have a choice. You have a child to take care of.

"Get rid of him"

you stay silent unsure if you heard him correctly.

"Get rid of the boy. I don't care if you leave him in a box on the street or kill him yourself"

He reaches for a small silver knife under the bar's counter. He places it against your throat.

" y/n..You won't like it if I do it dearest, besides you are saving him the shame of having a mother like you. At least if he's adopted elsewhere he has a chance at a half decent life" he took a deep swig from his un-shattered glass of whiskey, looking at you with such deep distain.

You had never hated anyone the way you hated that man..But he was right. You would never be able to give your baby the best life. It would never get better because you couldn't make it better. So you found a young couple not to far from New Orleans, they took him in, and he got to be happy. he ended up living a successful life. He still is. If nothing else theres that. You know your own misery doesn't automatically allow others to be happier, but at times its what keeps you going.

Your mind is flooded with more and more thoughts. Thousands of little memories pilling themselves on top of you. Who would've thought, even deceased, even owned by Valentino, even trapped in an ever so violent place, the real plight of hell would be your thoughts. You light a cigarette and get out of the tub. You throw on a dark red robe and sit on the vanity's counter to brush your damp hair. The song continues into a jazzy interlude before it reprises again

Your clothes may be Beau Brummelly

They stand out a mile

But, brother

You're never fully dressed

You're never dressed

Without a smile

You stretch out your wings in the mirror, looking at your demonic self. No matter how many times you catch yourself in the mirror, even after ten years of this hellish existence. It still strikes you as odd. You look more or less the same. The same hair color and skin tone, although slightly more grey. The tail was just fucking weird no matter how long you had it. The song erupts into the finale distracting you from your thoughts. You begin to sing along with it, smiling softly. It really does sound like him. The same pink glow takes over the room as well as your body, Your eyes begin to glow that same soft pink, your hair floating above your shoulders.

Who cares what they're wearing

On Main Street

Or Saville Row

It's what you wear from ear to ear

And not from head to toe

You're never fully dressed without a smile

The last line comes out much quieter than the rest. A sense of sadness overtakes you once again as you realize how pathetic this whole night turned out. You'd spent the whole night "Simping", as Velvette would say, over a relationship that ended decades ago. Yikes. The static from the radio clicks up a few notches, You cover your ears at the sudden noise. You quickly reach for the dial in order to turn off the device..And then you hear it. You hear him.

"Dearest.." Its almost unintelligible through the static

You think you've finally fucking lost it. Ten years in Hell and you've officially gone "delulu"...another Velvette saying but it feels fitting.

“y/n.”

He called softly, the static in his voice heavy and nearly unreadable.

You almost didn't believe it.

"Y/n" He repeats the static fizzling out leaving his voice raw and almost natural. Fuck this was real. You didn’t respond. You didn’t know how to. You weren't sure if he could even hear you..how he would respond? Would it be worse if he did? It had been an entire decade since you fell, All of this time- he never bothered to contact you. Why now? Why so much later?... Had he forgotten about you? Did he just..die? You cant discern which is worse...that he had left you and your son and lived a long guilt free life...or that he made no attempt to even speak to you in the decade you had inhabited the same existence.

Ok that was all like exposition and shit..considering part two but I AM VERY TIRED RN

[j0kers-light]

Dear Chaos, sorry I've been so absent lately. A lot has been happening lately but I just wanted to say that the latest HL chapter is just perfection🫶

I do have another idea for a request. What if HL got in a car accident while on the phone with J? He goes out to find her but she is not at the scene anymore. Maybe because she was taken to the hospital or taken hostage by two face.

No rush my love, take all the time you need. You're the best!

His Lighthouse: Broken Promises (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Broken Promises - Oneshot

KEEP IN MIND THIS IS NOT A CHAPTER UPDATE!

Hey hi @darthjokerisyourfather 🖤✨

Never apologize for living your life! I should apologize for this crappy title. I don't like it. 🙃 I thank you so much for requesting this! You always manage to pull me out of my writer's block with your beautiful imagination! I also thank you for your patience and your kindness. Just how long did you wait for this? 😖😖😖😖😖😖😖😖😖 ugh, please don't hate me love! *dodges flying tomatoes*

Chaos loves you and hopes that you enjoy! If not, you know I can go back to the drawing board and try again!

More importantly, If you wish to be a part of the His Lighthouse taglist, do let me know via comment, ask, or a quick direct message!

Joker must have forgotten. That was the only explanation you had for his absence. 

You sat in a fancy Gotham City restaurant trying not to let the pitiful glares bother you. The low murmurs of surrounding conversations and the constant clinking of chinaware did nothing to block the embarrassment you felt.  

A giant red, ‘I got stood up’ sign was painted on your forehead. The mocking snickers and pitiful looks became more obvious as time passed.  

You wanted to keep a glimmer of hope that Joker was coming, yet you sat alone at the table, nursing your favorite drink and eating too much bread to be considered healthy.  

During the second, or maybe the third basket, you came to the heartbreaking conclusion. 

Joker forgot about the date that HE organized.  

Why were you not surprised? This was Joker after all and unfortunately, this had become the norm as of late.  

You flicked breadcrumbs from your fingers before smoothing your dress down for the umpteenth time. There were probably noticeable wrinkles with how much you clenched the fabric throughout the evening. More importantly, you hated that you got all dolled up for nothing.  

The formfitting dress in your favorite color was brand new and you spent countless hours taming your natural hair into a new hairstyle to compliment your outfit.  

Your curls were defined and voluminous framing your face and pretty jewelry adorned your skin helped complete the look.  

Just thinking about the time and energy you wasted for this failure of a date made you tear up until you remembered your mascara was not waterproof. You refused to let your emotions get the better of you in public. It was already humiliating enough and a gorgeous blonde two tables away kept rubbing in your embarrassment with her sharp red lips curling into a smirk every time she laughed. 

You would bet a penny she was a true mean girl back in high school.  

You didn’t want to wallow in this misery any longer. Joker was obviously not coming, so it was time for you to leave.  

Maybe on the way home you could pick up some ice cream and perform some self-care to restore your mood. A nice warm bath with candles and a good playlist in the background would clear up the disappointment you felt.  

Oh, but leaving would take a herculean effort. You would have to put on a brave face and walk out with the entire restaurant staring at you. Alone.  

The things Joker put you through.  

You cleared your throat and plastered a fake confident smile on your face to flag down the waiter. She was already on standby. Bless her. She kept your glass following throughout the night and she didn’t judge you with each basket of bread delivered to your table. 

She been in the industry long enough to know you were stood up. It broke her heart to see you, a beautiful woman, plagued by a man and his ignorance. She and a few other waiters would foot your bill. It was the least they could do to help a fellow sister in need. 

The world needed more girls like her in it. Her supportive smile gave you the energy to stand up tall as you walked out.  

But the second you got into the driver’s seat of your SUV, the floodgates opened with no end in sight. Screw your makeup, you were holding this sob fest in for hours.  

You probably looked a hot mess crying in the car but more than anything, you were mad at Joker for not keeping his promise. Again.  

It wouldn’t be as heartbreaking if this was the first time he left you hanging. Oh no, this was a reoccurring issue.  

You were so tired of being treated like the middle child. Joker needed hear about this. It was his fault you were feeling miserable. 

Deep down, you just wanted to hear his voice. Maybe this was all some big misunderstanding!  

Despite arriving at the restaurant ten minute early, (and triple checking to make sure it was the correct one) perhaps you were in the wrong and not Joker. Any and all excuses floated inside your head to cut Joker some slack. Because if he was truly at fault, then your heart would simply shatter. 

You temporarily stopped the waterworks to find your phone and dial a number you knew by heart. It rang until Joker’s raspy voice reached your ears. “Heyy Bunny. What a uhh unexpected surprise!”  

His words made your heart develop a stress crack. You choked back a sob and Joker instantly heard it. “Bun what’s wrong?” 

“D-Did you forget about tonight?” You glanced out the window as a few cars passed by. 

“Uhhhh.. tonight?” Joker mumbled the word over and over trying to jog his memory.  

You didn’t know if he was making fun of you or if he genuinely couldn’t recall. Either way, you were fed up. “Our date night! The one that you made reservations for!” you sobbed. 

“Oh. That. I err.. lost track of time.” You couldn’t take it anymore. Joker’s nonchalant tone was your tipping point.  

“Light, are ya still there?” He asked when you didn’t reply. When you did, you had plenty to say. 

“Lost track of time? You? Lost track of... please tell me you are joking? I sat at our table for two hours waiting for you! Everyone made fun of me for being stood up while you lost track of time!”  

“Aww don’t cryy! I can be there in—” 

Your tone was sharp and firm, “Don’t bother Joker.” you started the SUV as you put your seatbelt on with your other hand. “I’m going home.”  

There was a brief delay in the phone signal as it connected to the car’s system, but you still heard Joker’s string of no’s. “Let me make it up to ya!”  

He really thought you would give him another chance? Your lips silently recited the apologizes that oozed from Joker’s lips like oil. 

“Tonight was supposed to be you making up for ditching me last week or have you forgotten? Urgh! You keep putting me off J, and it isn’t fair!”  

You pulled the car into drive and exited the car park. Joker hated to hear your accusations, but you were right.  

His line of work had recently picked up and every time he made plans with you, they were delayed or flat out cancelled to make way for something more nefarious.  

He was putting work over you, something he vowed never to do. That did not mean he would tolerate you talking back to him like you were. “Y/n, I am—” 

“Save it Joker! Your apologies mean nothing when your actions don’t follow suit.” He heard your blinker on in the background as he tried to make amends.

It wasn’t good to be driving in your current emotional state and trying to tell you what to do would only stir up more attitude from you. 

It was worth a try. He could deal with a bratty bunny later.  

“Doll, can ya pull over so we can talK about thiss? I can uhh, meet up with ya and we can do something. Just. Us.” 

That was new.  

You pondered the suggestion for a second and began turning onto a deserted backroad. It would take you straight to your apartment in a fraction of the time it would take driving on the highway. “No, Joker, I’m done listening to—” 

The unnatural sound of metal clashing and scraping against metal violently pierced through the phone’s speakers and cut you off mid sentence.  

It twisted loudly, making horrifying cracks and pops that lasted for ages—when it was just a matter of seconds. Joker’s keen ear knew what was occurring, but it didn’t seem real.  

These things shouldn’t happen to his Light. Joker made sure your vehicle was military grade. Nothing should have been able to topple it over, much less allow it to roll twice. He just sat helplessly, listening to the impossible unfold.  

As the metal settled, the phone called continued in eerie silence. Then he waited and waited, hoping this to be nothing but a dream.  

Maybe it was another car and you were stunned into silence. The only downside, he couldn’t hear you breathing.  

“Bunny. B-Bun? No… m-my Light? Y/n?” 

Joker used every nickname he had for you but none provoked a response. So, Joker flat out started to beg. “Y/n.. please..  

His pleas died out the moment he heard a new sound. Footsteps on broken glass. Two sets at that which were approaching to wherever your phone was tossed.  

“F__k, did you have to ram her so hard? The boss wants her alive remember? See, she’s unconscious!” A gruff voice said.  

Joker honed in on the voice like a bloodhound and narrowed his eyes when another person spoke up with a much thicker Gotham accent.  

“Even better for us. Grab her feet, I’ll get her shoulders. N’hurry up before someone comes.” 

“Don’t rush me! Agh, I can’t get a good grip, she’s all bloody!” 

Joker’s heart plummeted to his stomach. You were more injured that he thought. His mind already started to visualize the worst scenario imaginable.  

The two men continued to bicker although Joker tuned out their useless chatter. He didn’t want to believe what he just heard.  

Two men deliberately rammed you off the road. Gotham City was vast and Joker had many enemies both local and abroad. Narrowing down exactly who did this would be impossible, although he had a clue who the culprit was.  

Joker was still in lala land when Frost cleared his throat.  

He didn’t care about J taking a call during the meeting, but he could tell something wasn’t right. Joker had frozen up like a statue halfway through and it took Frost kicking J’s chair to snap the clown out of whatever rabbit hole he fell in.  

Before Frost could speak, J beat him to it. “Track B’s car. I need a location, now.”  

The room went silent at the shaky tone Joker used. He could care less about showing weakness in front of his men. He would worry about optics later.  

Right now, you were the only constant on his mind.  

Frost didn’t ask for context; he did what he was told and seconds later, he voiced his findings to the room.

“That’s weird.” He tapped the keyboard again to get more accurate data. “It's on the stretch of Kane St, idle and with the engine off.” 

He looked up into the turbulent waves that made up Joker’s eyes. No words were needed. This was a full-on Nightfall procedure. You were in danger.  

Frost hoped that whoever hurt you had enjoyed their life because the wrath of Joker was coming to reap their soul.  

Not a word was spoken when the four men arrived at the scene.  

All that was left of your vehicle was a mangled wreckage still smoldering in the dead of night. Frost sought out to find any evidence while Neo and Mac took pictures. Joker was like a ghost watching it all unfold.  

He found one of your shoes lying nearby and picked it up with shaky hands.  

It was new with hardly any scuff marks on its lacquered surface despite the crash. He could only imagine the outfit you paired with the designer heel.  

That thought racked him with guilt.  

If only he made time to see you tonight and shielded you from this avoidable fate.  

How could he blow off something so precious as spending time with his Light? Work was never more important than you and Joker was faced with the consequences of not cherishing you while he had the chance.  

He had to get you back and treat you like the goddess you were.  

“Hey Boss, we found something!”  

Joker snapped himself out of his thoughts and walked over to Mac who was holding up something. A hastily written note signed off by Two Face’s gang logo. Joker was right to assume the former attorney had a hand in this.  

“Its Two Face. When do you want to retaliate, Boss?” Neo asked.  

All four men shared a look. What a loaded question. They would act now and show no mercy. Each of them would do whatever it took to get you back safe and sound.  

You woke up with a splitting headache and parched throat. Oh, and you were tied up in some dingy room.  

Honestly, you had to stop winding up in these types of situations. Ever since Joker entered your life, being kidnapped was always a possibility you had to consider occurring.  

Today just happened to be your unlucky day.  

Calming down your heart rate and taking in your surroundings took a bit of effort. It hurt to move your head, and you grumbled under your breath while trying to blink away the unwanted inertia. 

Someone was smart enough to keep you lying down, but you couldn’t move your arms or legs. Not like you wanted to. 

You were still coming to when a presence made themselves known with their loud voice. It made your head pound even worse.  

“Good, good! You’re finally awake. You are very hard to get a hold of, my dear. Always protected. Never alone..”  

You managed to turn your head enough to see Harvey Dent pacing the room, talking to himself. His alter ego, Two Face was currently talking and you heard the not so pleasant choice of words he used regarding you.  

He had quite the colorful vocabulary and it was obvious out of the two men who held a grudge against you. When he noticed your curious eyes on him, he smiled wide.  

Even his voice changed with the change in personalities.

This one was gravelly to match Dent’s grotesque burned face. “I’ve been dying to prosecute you in the court of law.” 

You did not have the mental capacity to argue with a schizophrenic psychopath. All your energy was spent on closing your eyes to block out the headache wreaking havoc on your skull. You didn’t care if you were being rude.  

It was rude to crash into people’s cars and forcibly take them to undisclosed locations so... You were matching Dent’s energy.  

‘Not today, Satan. Not today’ you mentally said.  

Or perhaps you said it aloud since you heard Harvey’s aggravated shouts followed by something being knocked over and breaking.

It seemed that even grown men could throw temper tantrums. That was not your problem. Your problem was trying to stay awake.

You were beginning to suspect you had a concussion, or worse, some kind of neck injury. The last thing you were going to receive was medical attention, so lying still was your best bet until help arrived.  

That thought put a frown on your face. You could not rely on Joker nowadays. 

Would he even notice that you were gone? You abruptly hung up the phone mid argument; he probably disregarded you and became distracted by something more important.  

A time ago, you were the only thing important to Joker. Everything else was secondary. My, have things changed.  

Now you wished that Joker would become the possessive lover you knew him to be and come save you.  

You were certain that he placed a tracker in your lighthouse necklace.. the one you removed since it clashed with your outfit for the night.  

Great. The one time you took it off!  

You felt like such an idiot despite all of this being Joker’s fault. If only he cared more, he would’ve been with you tonight to avoid this. Now you were at the mercy of Two Face and whatever motive he made up to justify abducting you.  

There was nothing you could do to escape your current predicament.  

You were just upset and disappointed in Joker, and with that, you let a single tear slip down your cheek as you fell unconscious.  

The next time you came to, you didn’t bother opening your eyes. You just groaned in defeat and let whoever pick you up and carry you off. And that was probably for the best.  

Unbeknownst to you, it was a literal war zone.  

If you did in fact open your eyes, the carnage that Joker created to rescue you, would have scared you back to sleep. You would declare Joker a monster after seeing just how far he would go for his Bunny.  

Any other day he would deny his true nature, all for the sake of being worthy enough to bask in your light. Tonight, he had no such compulsion. 

He had no shame in carrying his Light while being drenched in blood. He was a fallen angel personified.  

Even as Joker rounded a corner to leave, he helped a man take their last breath by lodging a bullet between their eyes. Quick and efficient, the punishment did not befit the crime of touching what Joker considered as his.  

The two men who initially rammed you off the road got off lucky.  

Joker struck a one-time deal with the Penguin to use the massive great white shark the Englishman kept locked up in a tank underneath the Iceberg Lounge. It was a natural garbage disposal and Joker had two pieces of trash he wanted to get rid of.  

Joker thought being fed to sharks was tame compared to the ideas still swimming in his head.  

His dark smile sent shivers down the backs of his own men and they wisely avoided their eyes as Joker passed. No one was safe from the murderous gleam in J’s eyes.  

That is, all but one. You.  

He was a completely different person tonight. The slaughter was personal, the attacks more brutal and practically inhumane, and it was all done to avenge his goddess.  

Joker was out for blood, and he most certainly collected it.  

He held your slumbering body close as he ordered Mac to detonate the bomb and reduce the building to rubble. If anyone was lucky enough to escape Joker’s initial siege into the building, there was no hope of survival now.  

Just the way he planned it.  

A shame Harvey got an anonymous tip and fled before Joker arrived. J would have loved to see the other side of Dent’s face burn to a crisp for touching his Light.  

Speaking of. Joker’s haunting green eyes looked away from the blazing inferno and down at his sleeping beauty.  

There were minor cuts and bruising forming from being caught up in your car crash, yet he was more worried about the dried blood ruining your once pristine hair.  

Your beautiful features were marred by pain that Joker could have prevented. You needed medical attention and some good old-fashioned love and affection.  

And just like that, all of Joker’s bloodlust was extinguished to devote his attention onto you.  

He had weeks of apologizing to do to earn your trust and love back, but for now, he needed you back in good health.  

Joker softly kissed your forehead and let his goons drive him to the nearest safe house where Sarai would have a look at you.  

It was high time that Joker re-appointed you back as the most important thing in his life, and it started with showing that he cared about you and only you.  

[thestartome]

This pose was a private commission exclusively for Team-Flask @teamflasksims4stories to use in their story Heart Strings.

Thank you, dear Jodie and Carly, for this opportunity and honor to aid you on your journey and for entrusting me to bring to life such poses for your beautiful characters! I also wish to thank you for protecting artists, including myself. We must not let the thieves inhibit the communities creativity and collaborations!

There shall always be a candle in the dark. ✨🕯️✨

Poses and Render: @thestartome

Custom guitar swatch for my personal use, not available.

The wonderful custom content creators featured:

Below the cut for links!

Morgyns eyes @sugarowl https://www.thesimsresource.com/downloads/details/category/sims4-eyecolors/title/betelgeuse-eyes-2/id/1429022/

Morgyns teeth @redearcat https://redearcat.tumblr.com/post/185363187758/teeth1-maxis-match-new-mesh-human-alien

Morgyns hat @strangestorytellersims https://www.tumblr.com/strangestorytellersims/187727277493/cavalier-hat-v1-by-ssts-teen-to-elder-hat?source=share

Morgyns shirt @zeussim https://www.patreon.com/posts/lestats-lover-65173526

Morgyns skeleton hand jewelry @bellassims https://bellassims.tumblr.com/post/666885916328116224/moving-on-to-day-four-of-simblreen-you-can-have

Morgyns nails @pralinesims https://www.thesimsresource.com/downloads/details/category/sims4-sets-accessories/title/nail-pack-for-men/id/1338742/

Morgyns boots https://strangestorytellersims.tumblr.com/post/630652020846690304/adventurer-set-v1-by-ssts-teen-to-elder-2-vests

Guitar @studio-k-creation https://studio-k-creation.tumblr.com/post/164092198593/basic-handle-guitar-news4cc-standalone-new

Skeletons microphones https://www.thesimsresource.com/downloads/details/category/sims4-objects-furnishing-decor-sculptures/title/vintage-microphone/id/1525393/

Skeletons hats @evellsims https://www.patreon.com/posts/witching-hour-73375022

Skeletons eyes https://www.thesimsresource.com/downloads/details/category/sims4-eyecolors/title/monster-eyes/id/1638511/

Skeletons blouses https://www.tumblr.com/evellsims/638282944116621312/sorrow-accessory-top?source=share

Skeletons skirts @goodchillsstudio https://www.patreon.com/posts/gcs-augusts-cc-55166514

[kingofbodyrolls]

Songs of the Heart (m) | pjm | chap 3: alone

Jimin has never known a feeling quite like this—a strange, stirring warmth that blooms in the quiet spaces of his chest. Could this be love? He wonders, hesitant yet hopeful. When his manager pries into his heart, he finds himself wishing for a different life—one untouched by the weight of fame, where he could love freely, without scrutiny. But even in the shadow of his longing, something beautiful is unfolding. Like frost melting beneath the gentle kiss of spring, his guarded heart begins to thaw, and for the first time in years, he feels his emotions bloom with a life of their own.

→ Pairing: jimin x reader (female) → AUs: musician!au (not completely idol!au), single dad!au, slice of life!au → Trope: strangers to lovers / neighbors to lovers → Genres: slow burn romance / fluff / angst / smut / comedy → Rating: mature/explicit/R18  (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: 5.5k → Warnings + triggers: mention of grief and sadness, past character death (Jiwoo), just a lot of FEELS, it’s a bit sad, but also very heartwarming. → Read on AO3? [link] → Author’s note: guess who’s back with another chapter? 🙋‍♀️ Yup, it’s time to dive headfirst into Jimin’s world again—because, seriously, how could we not peek into that beautiful, complicated mind of his? Aren’t you curious about what he’s feeling, what’s tugging at his heartstrings, and maybe even what’s making him blush? 🥺💜 I’ll warn you, though—this chapter has a touch of sadness (don’t throw things at me, okay?), but trust me, brighter days are on the horizon! I’m just so soft for this version of Jimin 🥹 So grab your tissues and maybe a warm drink, and let’s get through this together. Happier vibes are coming—I pinky promise! ✨ This whole story is for my dear friend @remmykinsff! I hope you’ll love it 💜

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After sharing his lyrics with you, Jimin feels something shift within him—like a long-buried weight has finally been unearthed, leaving him lighter, freer. The words may not reflect his present, but their roots are deep, tangled in a past he knows all too well. Memories flicker in his mind like an old film reel, and with them comes the ache of loss. He remembers Jiwoo, his best friend, his anchor—and the day she slipped away forever, leaving him adrift with only their six-month-old daughter in his arms. It was a loneliness so raw, so consuming, that it etched itself into his very being. Even now, just brushing against the edges of that memory brings a tightness to his throat, a sheen to his eyes. He sniffles softly, quickly shaking off the tears. He’s already cried enough in front of you today.

It’s New Year’s Eve, after all. If ever there was a time to hold onto light and hope, it’s tonight. The deep dive into his feelings can wait for another day.

With a decisive slap to his thighs, he stands, his gaze falling to you with a mixture of quiet vulnerability and gentle mischief. “Do you want to spend New Year’s with us?” he asks, his voice tinged with something unspoken, something he hopes you’ll understand. He watches the surprise ripple across your face, the way your cheeks flush with a warmth that only adds to the glow of the moment. He can tell you’re flustered, and though he knows he has that effect on people, with you, it feels different—so different it makes his chest ache in a way he can’t explain.

He wonders if you feel it too, this invisible pull between you. He’s a man who wears his heart on his sleeve, but years in the spotlight have taught him to mask his truest feelings when he needs to. Fame demands it—his private life is his sanctuary, a place the world doesn’t get to see. 

But you? Oh, you. From the very first moment he saw you, something shifted. He couldn’t quite name it then, but he knew—you were different. Special in a way that felt less like fireworks and more like the quiet glow of a candle, warm and steady, drawing him in. At first, he thought you didn’t know who he was, and when he realized he was right, he couldn’t help but smile. You’d heard his voice on the radio, sure, but you hadn’t connected the dots, hadn’t pieced together the face that stared down from the towering billboards. Somehow, that made you even more extraordinary to him.

And that’s what he likes—no, loves—about you. You don’t see him as “Park Jimin, the famous singer.” You don’t seek him out because he’s rich, or good-looking, or because he has a daughter that could soften any heart. No, with you, it’s different. You’re genuine, grounded, with a kindness that feels rare in a world that’s always spinning too fast. And yes, he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t noticed how beautiful you are—he’s not blind, after all.

Still, he’s careful, measured, holding back because he doesn’t want to scare you away. You’re a breath of fresh air in a life that often feels stifling, and he’s willing to take it slow. Talking to you is effortless, letting you into his world—even into Hwa-Young’s life—is effortless. And that’s what surprises him most. Nothing about relationships has ever felt easy for him before.

He’s had girlfriends, sure, but they always stopped at the surface. None of them ever cared to ask about the man behind the music, the meaning behind his lyrics, or the little girl who lights up his world. But you? You’re different. A different kind of good. The kind that feels rare, like something he should hold onto.

And God, he’s drawn to you. The way you walk, the quiet strength in the way you carry yourself—it’s magnetic. But there’s something else, too, something unspoken. He can see it in your eyes, in the way your smile sometimes falters for just a moment. You’ve known pain. He recognizes it because he’s worn it too. It’s like a silent understanding between you—guess it takes one to know one.

But he doesn’t push, doesn’t pry. He has a feeling that, in time, you’ll tell him everything, if—no, when—this fragile thing between you blossoms into something more. Until then, he’s willing to wait, to let the moments unfold like petals, slow and beautiful, one by one.

“I’d love to,” you say with a warm smile, and Hwa-Young squeals, bouncing on her little toes with excitement.

“Yay! Do you want to play with me? Dress up?” she asks, her wide, expectant eyes shimmering like stars. How could anyone ever say no to a gaze so innocent, so full of life?

You nod, your laughter soft and sweet, and as you let her tiny hand tug you toward her room, Jimin finds himself standing there, watching. Just watching. And it’s dangerous, the way his heart twists in his chest. A feeling so sharp and unfamiliar that he almost doesn’t know what to do with it. He knows he’s got it bad—knows it with every beat of his heart.

Letting people in has always been a battle for him, a fortress carefully built over the years. But you? Somehow, you dismantle it brick by brick, without him even noticing. Everything about you feels natural, unforced, like you’ve been meant to walk into his life and fill the quiet spaces he didn’t even know existed.

And then there’s this: you with his daughter. It’s a sight that simultaneously fills him with warmth and something deeper, more profound, a kind of ache that’s both joy and sorrow intertwined. Because you’re the first woman he’s ever brought into Hwa-Young’s life, and it means something. No, it means everything.

It’s a big deal—bigger than he can put into words. Since Jiwoo’s death, it’s always been just the two of them. Him and his little girl, navigating a world that sometimes feels too cruel, too empty. Jiwoo had been his best friend, his confidante, and losing her had ripped a hole in his chest that time could only partially mend. He sighs, the memory of her soft laughter flickering like an old, worn-out photograph in his mind.

There are days he misses her so deeply it feels like a part of him is still tethered to that loss. Days when he wishes she could be here, holding their daughter’s hand, watching her grow into the bright little light she’s becoming. Jiwoo had wanted so desperately to be the mother Hwa-Young deserved, but fate had been merciless, stealing her away too soon.

His hand clenches instinctively at his side, a quiet surge of grief, even as his gaze softens. He watches you disappear into Hwa-Young’s room, your laughter mingling with his daughter’s excited chatter. And in that moment, his heart aches in a way he’s never quite known before. It’s a joy so raw it leaves him breathless.

But he knows—he knows this isn’t about replacing Jiwoo. He isn’t looking for someone to fill that void or to be a mother to his daughter. He doesn’t need to. What they have is enough, more than enough. Yet somehow, your presence feels like the universe extending a quiet, gentle gift. A piece of something they never expected but might just be brave enough to accept.

And as he leans against the doorway, listening to Hwa-Young’s giggles and the melodic cadence of your voice, he wonders if maybe, just maybe, there’s a place in his life for this kind of hope.

But in the quiet hum of his studio, he’s drawn back to the promise he made to Jiwoo—the one etched into his soul like a quiet, unwavering vow. He’d held her trembling hand as she made him swear not to let her illness become a shadow over his life. “Don’t waste your days mourning me,” she had said, her voice so calm it still haunts him. It was inevitable, she’d insisted, the way the seasons change or the tide pulls back from the shore. Jiwoo had always been pragmatic, even in the face of the unthinkable.

And though there had never been romantic feelings between them—just a friendship so pure and profound it could have been mistaken for something else—she had asked him to promise one more thing. To open his heart to love, even when the odds would feel stacked against him as a single father.

He had tried. In the ten long years since she’d gone, he’d truly tried. He swears it. But trying hasn’t made it any easier. He’s a man that everyone wants a piece of—for his fame, his fortune, his face. The lines blur so easily, and sometimes it feels impossible to separate real connection from the shallow glow of curiosity. The years have sharpened his instincts, taught him to read between the smiles and the flattery, but it’s still exhausting.

And yet, here you are, in his life in a way that feels... different. Genuine. He knows it in the way you laugh with his daughter, not a trace of pretension in your voice, in the way your kindness feels effortless and uncalculated.

From his desk, he hears Hwa-Young’s bright giggles float down the hallway like sunlight breaking through clouds. Your voice follows, playful and warm, coaxing laughter from his daughter like a secret melody only you know how to play. He imagines the two of you in a swirl of colorful scarves and oversized hats, lost in some imaginative world he’s not sure he’s ready to intrude on.

A small smile touches his lips as he picks up his pen and returns to the half-written lyrics sprawled across his desk. He presses the nib to paper, his hand moving almost of its own accord as the words pour out, raw and unfiltered:

“The room is full, but I’m still alone.The noise fades, but silence doesn’t comfort me.A touch, a laugh—it feels close, but not enough.When did being seen stop meaning being known?”

He pauses, his chest tightening as the song begins to take shape, and a name for it floats to the surface of his mind. Alone.

Still, his thoughts drift back to you and the way you’ve seamlessly woven yourself into his and Hwa-Young’s life, like a thread of warmth and light in the fabric of their days. He wonders if he should go to you, join in your little game of dress-up, or stay here in his solitude, where it feels safer. Where it feels less terrifying to hope.

With a quiet sigh, he sets the pen down and leans back in his chair, glancing toward the open door. He knows that one day, if this thing—whatever it is—between you ever grows into something more, he’ll tell you about Jiwoo. About the promise. About the years he spent searching for what he thought he’d never find.

But for now, he listens. Listens to the soft rhythm of your laughter mingling with his daughter’s, a sound that, for once, makes him feel anything but alone.

Time slips away unnoticed, like sand through his fingers, as Jimin loses himself in the swirl of ink and emotion, pouring his heart out onto the page. Words come slow but steady, a quiet storm inside him finally breaking through. But then—suddenly, like a burst of sunlight piercing the gray—he hears the sound of laughter, light and carefree, and his heart skips a beat.

He looks up, and there you are, standing in the doorway with Hwa-Young at your side, both of you catching your breath as if you’ve just run through a field of dreams. You’re panting, your face flushed with joy, and the sound of your laughter fills the space, a melody he never knew he needed.

“Daddy, won’t you join us?” Hwa-Young’s giggle rings out, pure and untainted, like a song he didn’t know was missing.

Jimin can’t help but smile—a soft curve of his lips that’s almost foreign to him. His heart, heavy from years of quiet sorrow, lifts a little more. There’s something magical about the way Hwa-Young is dressed, her tiny body a princess in a sparkling tiara, a wand flicking with imagination. And you… you’re wearing one of his oversized shirts, the stripes playful and careless, paired with sweatpants that seem so out of place on you, yet somehow, they fit.

But it’s your smile—so bright, so unrestrained—that tugs at his heart. It’s the kind of smile that feels like a promise, and it fills him with a warmth he’s forgotten how to name. The way you wear the joy of the moment, not just on your face, but in your eyes, makes him stand from his chair without a second thought. He’s suddenly so eager to be a part of it, to feel it too.

Hwa-Young, with her childish enthusiasm, dresses him in one of his finest suits, and he lets her—lets her transform him into whatever she envisions, like he’s part of her dream. Her wand flicks, and with all the gravity of a tiny magician, she declares him a prince, her magic turning the room into a world of make-believe. You, too, are a princess in her eyes, a fantasy come to life.

And just like that, he laughs. Not the careful chuckle of a man worn by the weight of the world, but a real laugh—one that bubbles up from somewhere deeper, freer than he’s felt in years. His laughter is easy, like the spark of something alive inside him, waking up after a long slumber.

And so, Jimin spends his New Year’s Eve not in solitude, but in this sweet chaos of joy and whimsy, wrapped in the warm presence of you and Hwa-Young. Laughter echoes around them, and for the first time in a long time, Jimin feels something other than the sting of loss. He feels, instead, the tenderness of new beginnings—of a life that’s still unfolding, one moment at a time, thanks to you.

“How’s the songwriting coming along?” Seokjin’s voice is warm, his smile soft as they sit together in the quiet corner of a small café. The air smells faintly of ground coffee and fresh pastries, but Jimin is only half-aware of it, his mind tangled in melodies and words. They’re here to discuss business—upcoming concerts, album deadlines—but the conversation always manages to wander.

“Good,” Jimin answers, cradling his cup of tea between his hands, letting the steam rise and settle around him like a small, comforting cloud. His fingers trace the rim absently, his gaze distant.

Seokjin, ever the curious one, leans in a little closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper as if the café itself is too public a place for the question he’s about to ask. “I heard something about a girl?”

Jimin’s lips curl into a soft, knowing smile, the kind he only wears when he’s trying to hide something playful, something personal. He hides his smirk behind his cup, the warmth of the tea burning away the thoughts he doesn’t want to share. “You mean Hwa-Young?”

Seokjin rolls his eyes, a low, amused laugh escaping him. “No. Not your daughter,” he teases, leaning in even closer, the words thick with mischief. “But she did mention you’ve been spending time with someone?”

Jimin exhales a quiet sigh, the air heavier than before. This is the part of fame he dreads—how every moment, every detail of his life, becomes fodder for public consumption. Why can’t he just be… himself? Why does everything have to be picked apart, analyzed, turned into an interview?

He shifts in his seat, frustration bubbling at the edges of his composure. “Yeah, so what?” The words slip out sharper than he meant, the bite lingering in the air between them. He regrets the edge, but it’s hard to keep calm when the smallest pieces of his life feel like they’re on display. People don’t even know he has a daughter, for God’s sake.

“Is it serious?” Seokjin asks, his eyes darting around the café as if the question itself might cause a stir. He lowers his voice, wary of eavesdropping ears.

Jimin leans back slightly, his gaze distant, as if searching for something beyond the clink of coffee cups and the soft murmur of conversations. He shrugs, the motion casual but not without weight. “I don’t know.”

The words hang in the air, unspoken feelings swirling around them. He doesn’t want to admit to Seokjin how much you’ve come to mean to him. How time, since that night at New Year’s, has blurred into something both beautiful and terrifying. It’s already the middle of January, and yet it feels as if moments with you slip away like sand through his fingers—so quick, so precious, yet never enough.

He doesn’t want to drag you into his world. Into the spotlight that he’s spent so many years avoiding, carefully building walls around his heart and his life. He loves his fans, truly—more than they could ever know—but some of them can’t understand that he wants the same freedom as everyone else. To live without a camera lens always focused on him, to love without the world watching.

Yes, he’s famous—but does that mean he should be denied the simple, human joys of privacy? Does it mean that the delicate, beautiful moments he shares with you should be swallowed up by interviews, headlines, and fans who don’t know the difference between his public life and his real one?

Seokjin’s voice cuts through his thoughts, pulling him back to the present. “You didn’t really answer my question, though,” he says, taking a slow sip of his coffee, his gaze sharp, yet filled with a knowing curiosity.

Jimin feels the heat of a blush creep up his neck. He can’t help it—Seokjin’s right, and it’s embarrassing to realize that he’s been avoiding the question.

“I’ve written a few new songs. They’ll be ready for the concert in May as a surprise for the fans,” he says softly, a gentle smile playing on his lips, his voice almost like a whisper, as if savoring the moment of creation.

“Great, that’s what I love to hear!” Seokjin beams, leaning back in his chair, clearly pleased. Then, his eyes narrow slightly, a hint of something shrewd in his gaze. “If things are getting serious between you and this girl… maybe you should get her to sign an NDA?” he suggests, a brow arched in mild curiosity.

The words hit Jimin like a punch to the gut. An NDA? The thought churns his insides, his chest tightening as if the air has been sucked from the room. He can’t breathe for a moment, the very idea feels wrong. He would never make you sign something like that. It doesn’t fit with what he feels for you, for the way you’ve come into his life so naturally. It’s not about trust—it’s about respect, about wanting you to be free, not bound by some legal contract. He feels a surge of protectiveness, a silent promise he’s made to himself that no one will take this from him.

He shakes his head slowly, the words leaving his lips with quiet finality, “No.”

Seokjin presses, undeterred, his voice a little more insistent, “Think about it.”

Jimin’s mind races, the idea unsettling, twisting like a knot in his stomach. He leans forward, his voice low but firm, as if to make it clear that this isn’t something he’s willing to entertain. You mean too much to him for anything to taint the purity of what you share.

Even amidst the whirlwind of your own commitments, you always carve out the time to watch him rehearse. And in your quiet presence, there’s a warmth he’s come to rely on, a constant he cherishes more than he can say. He sees you, even on the days when exhaustion weighs on you like a heavy cloak, when your eyelids flutter shut and you drift into peaceful slumber on his studio sofa. Your gentle breaths, in sync with the rhythm of his music, wrap around him like a soft, comforting blanket—a quiet testament to how deeply you’ve woven yourself into the fabric of his life.

You’ve done more for him these past months than you could ever know. You’ve been his anchor, his light when everything seemed heavy, and he is more grateful than words could ever capture. Lately, his mind has been racing with thoughts of how he can repay you, how to show you just how much you mean to him without pushing you away. The idea of scaring you off, of overwhelming you with the weight of his heart, haunts him.

He knows his emotions, raw and untamed, are like a tidal wave sometimes. He’s a writer, after all. Feelings are his livelihood, his currency. But with you by his side, watching you stand by him and Hwa-Young, it stirs something deeper within him—a desire to be better, to be more, to share parts of himself that he’s never let anyone see before. He wants to open up more, include you in ways he hasn’t dared with anyone else, not since Jiwoo.

He has stopped playing, the strings of his guitar silent in the air as his gaze lingers on you. The sight of you, so serene, so free in your slumber, tugs at his heart. Your chest rises and falls in a rhythm as gentle as his own. You look so beautiful in your vulnerability, so tender in your quiet repose. You are everything he never knew he needed, and more than he ever imagined he could find.

He sets the guitar aside, the quiet echo of its final note hanging in the air like a fading memory. The studio, once filled with music, now holds only the soft rustling of your breath as you sleep. Gently, he steps away, his heart full of warmth as he moves to the kitchen. A meal is something simple, but it feels like a small offering of care. It’s what you all need after a day filled with so much—comfort, warmth, and the peace of shared moments.

When dinner is ready, the soft simmering of the stove replaced by the inviting scent of home-cooked food, he calls Hwa-Young to the table. But before she can join them, he slips back to check on you. You’re still there, curled up in the same spot, lost in the world of dreams, soft murmurs escaping your lips as if you’re still tangled in the rhythm of sleep.

He approaches you quietly, a gentle hand brushing against your shoulder as he nudges you awake.

You stir, your movements slow and unhurried, as if unwilling to leave the comfort of your slumber. A yawn stretches your body, and your eyes flutter open to meet his gaze—drowsy, but warm, and full of that quiet wonder he’s come to adore. “What time is it?” you ask, your voice thick with sleep.

Jimin chuckles softly, a sound that feels like a quiet caress. “It’s dinnertime,” he says, a playful glint in his eyes. “You fell asleep.”

A blush spreads across your cheeks, warm and sweet as you blink up at him in surprise. “You made dinner?” Your voice is soft, like the surprise is a secret between you and him.

He smiles, a slow, easy curve of his lips, and nods. There’s a softness in his gaze that melts a little bit of the distance between you. Reaching down, he takes your hand, your fingers warm and familiar. With a gentle pull, he helps you up, your body falling naturally into his embrace. You’re close, and in that moment, the world feels just a little bit smaller, a little bit warmer. The blush on your face only makes him smile wider, the flutter of his heart quickening in his chest. “Yes,” he murmurs, “I did. Now come eat,” he says with a smile that’s pure and inviting, pulling you gently along toward the dining room.

There, you sit together, the sounds of soft laughter and small talk filling the air as you share the quiet intimacy of a meal. The rhythm of your conversations, the way your voices blend together, is a harmony more perfect than any song. And in this simple moment, Jimin realizes that this—this right here, this quiet peace—is everything he never knew he needed.

Jimin is wandering through the aisles of the grocery store, his thoughts preoccupied with mental notes about what to cook tonight, when a familiar figure catches his eye. Jiwoo’s mother. The sight of her stops him in his tracks, like a memory brought to life. Her smile greets him before her words do—wide, warm, and full of that unchanging comfort that feels like coming home. She’s always been that to him: a second home, a quiet refuge. After all, Jiwoo and Jimin had been inseparable since childhood, and her house was like an extension of his own—where laughter and care lived in every corner.

“Hi, Jimin,” she says, her voice as soft as the years they shared, pulling him into a hug that feels like being wrapped in a blanket of love. She smells like jasmine, just as she always has, and for a moment, he feels like that young boy again, sitting in her kitchen eating snacks after school.

“How are you and Hwa-Young doing?” she asks, her eyes shimmering with affection, the kind that doesn’t need words to convey its depth.

Jimin can’t help but smile, his chest swelling with warmth at her concern. “We’re doing good,” he says, his voice tender, carrying the truth of his gratitude. “You should come by sometime. We miss you.”

Her face lights up at his words, her hands squeezing his arms gently. “Oh, I will. I miss my granddaughter too. And you.” She hugs him again, and he lets out a soft laugh, feeling her genuine affection wash over him.

But when she pulls back, there’s something new in her gaze—a knowing softness, almost maternal, as if she can see the parts of him he keeps hidden. “How are you really doing, my son?” she asks, her tone dipping into a tenderness that strikes a chord deep within him.

For a moment, Jimin falters, caught off guard by her question. The simplicity of it carries weight, peeling back the polished surface he usually presents. He looks at her, his brow furrowing slightly, wondering how she always seems to know when there’s more to his story.

He stays silent for a beat too long, his thoughts swirling, until she tilts her head and clarifies, her tone gentle but knowing.

“Don’t think I can’t tell when something’s weighing on you. A mother knows.” Her smile is soft, warm, and it reaches into a part of him he thought was better hidden. His heart clenches under its glow, the way it always does when she looks at him like that—with the quiet understanding only she and his mother seems to have.

For a moment, Jimin hesitates, debating whether he should say anything at all. But Jiwoo’s mother has always been more than just a mother figure; she’s a safe haven, a lighthouse in his stormiest seas. Her caring has always been constant, and her wisdom? Unshakable. He sighs, feeling the weight of her gaze unraveling him, and he knows he won’t leave this conversation unscathed. So he exhales, surrendering, and lets the truth spill from his chest.

“I met someone,” he begins, the words heavy and light all at once, as if saying them aloud gives them a shape he’s not sure he’s ready to carry. His chest tightens as months of suppressed emotions rise to the surface, like waves crashing onto an unsuspecting shore.

Her expression brightens immediately, her lips curving into a knowing smile as she leans against her cart. “You did? Tell me about her,” she encourages, her voice tinged with curiosity and delight.

Jimin can’t help but smile, the mere thought of you pulling at the corners of his mouth, softening his entire face. He looks down for a moment, almost shy, before speaking again. “She’s… kind. Generous. Loving. She’s wonderful with Hwa-Young, and she makes me feel…” His words trail off, caught in the tide of emotions he’s still learning how to name. It’s all there, clear as day in his heart, but saying it aloud feels like baring himself entirely.

Jiwoo’s mother chuckles softly, her voice gentle and teasing. “Are you in love?” she asks, the question slipping from her lips with such tenderness that it catches him off guard.

Jimin feels the heat rush to his face, a blush creeping up his neck as he nods, shy and unsure, like a boy confessing his first crush. But as quickly as the joy fills him, guilt rises just as fast. He feels a pang of unease, like he’s betraying Jiwoo by pouring out his heart to her mother about someone else.

His gaze flickers downward, his voice quieter now. “I just… I don’t know if it’s right. Talking about her… to you, of all people.”

But Jiwoo’s mother reaches out, her hand brushing his arm lightly, anchoring him. Her smile is gentle but unwavering. “Jimin, love doesn’t take anything away from the past. It adds to it. Jiwoo wouldn’t want you to feel like this—she’d want you to be happy.”

Her words settle over him like a soothing balm, easing the tightness in his chest as he lifts his gaze to meet hers. For the first time in a long time, he feels lighter, as though the burden of his emotions isn’t something he has to carry alone.

Without skipping a beat, she senses the weight in his words, the hesitation behind his smile. Her voice is soft, but steady, like the whisper of wind through familiar trees. “Why do you feel guilty, Jimin?”

He stammers, his heart racing as though it’s trying to outrun the truth. “I don’t want you to think… that I’m replacing Jiwoo,” he says, the words trembling on his tongue, heavy with the unspoken ache in his chest.

She smiles—gentle, knowing, as though she’s been waiting for this moment to ease his burden. Her laugh is tender, almost like a coo you’d give to soothe a child, and she reaches forward, pulling him into the warmth of her embrace. “Oh, Jimin. You could never replace her, and I know you never would,” she whispers, her words wrapping around him like the arms he’s missed in his darkest hours. She steps back, her hands lingering on his shoulders, her gaze soft yet gleaming with a mother’s fondness. “I’m just happy—so happy—that you’ve finally found someone. You deserve that, you know.”

Her smile deepens as she adds, with a teasing lilt, “You know, I always wanted you and Jiwoo to get married. That was my dream for the two of you.”

Jimin’s brow furrows, and he shakes his head gently. “I never had romantic feelings for Jiwoo,” he says, his voice steady but kind. “It wouldn’t have worked. We were… different.”

She nods, understanding in her eyes. “Oh, I know,” she says with a wistful sigh. “Your love for her was always different. But a mother can dream, can’t she? You were good for her, Jimin. You made her laugh, made her days brighter. I still remember watching the two of you play in the yard, running and hiding, always up to something. The way you’d joke around like nothing in the world could touch you.” Her voice trails off, and for a moment, she’s somewhere else, lost in a memory that warms her even as it stings. Her eyes glisten with unshed tears as she murmurs, “I really miss her.”

The words tug at Jimin’s heart, unraveling the thread he’s worked so hard to keep tied. His throat tightens, his vision blurs, and when he speaks, his voice cracks under the weight of his grief. “I miss her too,” he whispers, the words slipping free like petals carried on the breeze.

For a moment, silence settles between them, heavy but comforting, like an old quilt draped over shared pain. Then, she reaches out, her fingers lightly brushing his hand in a gesture so gentle it feels like forgiveness. Her smile returns, warm and encouraging, like sunlight breaking through clouds. “So… this girl,” she begins, her tone playful yet earnest, “Can I meet her soon?”

Jimin feels a blush creep up his neck, but he can’t help the smile that blooms across his face, unguarded and true. “Maybe,” he says softly, the single word brimming with possibility.

In her presence, he feels something shift—an unspoken blessing, an unshackling of the guilt he’s carried for so long. The weight lifts, and in its place, something new takes root. He feels it growing inside him, tender and unstoppable, like the first green buds breaking through winter’s frost. Just as the air begins to warm and the trees stretch toward spring, his heart is unfurling, blossoming with feelings for you that he can no longer contain.

And for the first time in years, he feels the hope of a new season.

→ Permanent taglist: @nora12379 @jeonsbabygirlsworld @fancypeacepersona @ktownshizzle @pjmxxjm @ajoonniice @kookiewithluv @mikrokookiex @rapmonjoon94

→ Series taglist: @13-manggaetteok @mima795 @hnnnjm @flaneuseonthestreets @miniesjams32 @graydolan12

→ Author’s endnote: Waaaaaah— 🤧😭 Are you crying? Because SAME. My heart is officially in shambles, and I need emotional support ASAP. So, tell me—what did you think of this whole chapter from Jimin’s POV? Isn’t he just so much in the best (and most heartbreaking) way? 🥺💜 Also… let’s talk about Jiwoo 👀 We know she passed away, but the real questions are: how and why? What’s your theory? Spill the tea—I’m dying to know your thoughts!🕵️‍♀️✨

© @/kingofbodyrolls 2024 // Please don’t copy or repost! You are more than welcome to reblog it, leave a comment or ask me anything about the story 🥰

[idkfitememate]

Hi hiii a new idea come into moii!!

Since our litte Otter got stary eyes right? which means the eyes glow right? what if idk, at dead at night someone like Neuvillette or Furina(whatever character you prefer!!) get something to drink or to snack on, and at the dark hallway, they can see two glowing eyes staring at them at the dark, ofc they panic, is that a freaking intruder??? then slowly the glowing eyes move to the lights and out reveal themself, ✨Otter!!!✨ the character sigh in relief cuz, archons, thank god it wasnt some intruder!!

Idk this seems funny to me! cuz Otter scared them by their glowing eyes!

Just a little thought!

Otter anon🦦

Nighttime Shenanigans

૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : Gn! Otter Reader x Neuvillette & Furina

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 278

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : Fluff, crack

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : Hehehehe ꒰ᐢ. ̫ .ᐢ꒱…

“AHHHHHHHAJDBFUFOENWBSKFHRJTSK!!!-“

A scream startled Neuvillette awake from his rather peaceful slumber.

Waisting no time, he jumped up and ran towards the sound of who he assumed to be Furina. Vision glowing with power, he was ready to attack whatever had caused her fear.

Bursting through a door, he found the girl on the floor surrounded by water and broken glass. She was shaking as she pointed down the hall.

Looking down, Neuvillette’s eyes met the glowing eyes of something he couldn’t see in the dark. Both had a stare down as he inched forward towards a candle, the matches right beside it.

Flicking the match and lighting a candle quickly, he raised the candle in the direction of the beast.

And when light covered the hall…

Both were met with their darling Otter standing at the end, a fish in hand and halfway in your mouth.

“Ah. “Oh.” Furina quickly stood and dusted herself off, coughing into her fist in embarrassment.

“Well, uhm… thank you for coming, Neuvillette! This was a uhm… a test! Yes, a test. To… err… ensure that you would uh.. come when I call. And you have passed. Alright good night!” And with that the Archon ran off down the hall, and into her room. The sound of the door slamming echoed through the corridors.

“… Then I suppose you will be spending the rest of the night with me, ma moitié?” You chittered in response, fully stuffing the fish in your face before running over to the man.

“Very well.” Neuvillette picked you up as you munched away, the stars shining in your eyes. He sighed before smiling at you.

“Goodnight, my dear.”

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : Otter is just a little goober. I love them sm ໒꒰ྀི ^ ^ ꒱ྀིა!

[silver-spoon-ii]

Would you kiss Candle? If she was okay with it, I mean.

a-ah…i-i mean….if she wanted it…..N-NOT THAT I HAVE DAYDREAMED OF KISSING HER!!! J-just if I needed to then I would…

[sillysaurus]

🪞💄🔮💋🪻💅🏻✨🫖👠🏰💜👑

Vil Shoenheit Caregiver headcanons

He/she, Mama/Papa caregiver (mapa?)

Petnames: darling, prince/princess/princex/princette, dear/dearie/dearest, schatz, sweetie/süßer, sweetie pie, precious, sweetums, cutie/cutie pie, sweetpea, pearl, sugarplum, beloved, buttercup, doll, flower, snookums

Dressing up is his favorite activity! whether it be dressing you up or the both of you. She will spend forever taking pictures of you

She likes to draw you in cute little outfits! Or draw outfit ideas for you!

He makes clothes for the both of you! Your size doesn't matter, he will make sure your clothes fit just right <3

Makes sure you stay clean and mind your manners. She likes etiquette, being called ma'am/sir/madam

Other activities she loves are tea parties and royal pretend play! He is the queen <3

Hates to see you cry and ruin your cute face </3 will immediately drop everything to make you feel better

Likes when you style his hair/makeup, she will praise you for doing a good job!

Always has incense or a candle burning

She dotes on you constantly, even to others! Makes a big deal about your birthday and accomplishments, wanting everyone to know how special you are and how proud he is of you <3

^ Would definitely stroll/carry you around and show you off

You can play and fidget with the jewelry he wears!

Keeps all of the art you make, will show everyone and wear any jewelry you make him! If you make art of her, she will melt <3

Loves bathtime, for both of you. Will go all out with bubbles, toys, bathbombs, etc, to set the atmosphere and make it enjoyable! Likes for you to smell good so she bathes you with, mostly floral, soap and puts lotion on you. He emphasizes the importance of self care

Makes sure you are both well rested, beauty sleep! She likes fairytales and reads them to you before bed. He wears a nightgown and sleeping eyemask

Likes fantasy in general, unicorns, fairies, etc, He's like a fairy godmother!

Carries a diaperbag/purse for all of your gear

i will continue to update this btw! if i think of anything else <3

[laf-outloud]

odetteannable So, it’s Walker Wednesday and I am reposting my dear friend @keeoone video and his audio. Have a listen if you’re interested, you can hear and feel the real love we all felt on this set. @thecwwalker will sadly not be coming back for a 5th season, but I wanted to share a little bit on this beloved show that meant so much to me. When I moved to Austin, I was point blank freaking out. I asked the Universe/God to give me a sign, any sign to ease my fear. I got a call a few days later to be on the show 🙏🏽 the part of Geri was added during covid and she was only meant to appear in 8 episodes. Well… here we are… 4 years later ✨ This show saved me for many reasons and my God, I never took it for granted. I appreciated every moment on set with my crew, my cast, our EP’s… everyone and my CREW. The best crew in all of TV. I’m sure of it. Nothing holds a candle to my crew. We had FUN, we’d laugh, we’d cry we were prepared and we’d always get home at a decent hour to see our families. This doesn’t happen often. I’d drive back home every day I’d spend on set with a smile on my face. Jared, @jaredpadalecki, I love you. I am truly floored by the space you held for us all. You led with grace and humility and so much love. I owe you big buddy. Anna, @awfricke you were my rock. You get a 10/10 always in my book. I could list every person and they’d get raving reviews from me but I’ll spare you all… but you get the point. We are a family and that’ll never change. The real heroes though, are YOU. The fans. Thank you for spending your time with us. We felt the love and we’d always send it right back to you.

Please keep watching the rest of these episodes. We worked hard and we really loved making them for you… and for us :) The cover image here is me how you’d find me everyday on set, in a big puffy coat with sides in my hand. Love you all. That’s it for now. XX

It's so nice to hear about Odette's experience on Walker and her love for the show and all those involved.

[attic-club-sandwich]

Dear 🌹 Anon,

So I couldn't help myself with continuing this little series for you by writing for the undateables as well as platonically for little Luke! It was sooo much fun to write, and I hope you enjoy this part as much as you did part 1! I would love to know your thoughts on this one as well ❤️

Read Part 1 Here! (and for the prompt that inspired part 2)

See my Obey Me! Works Masterlist for more of my writing.

Fill out This Form to be added to my Tag List.

Taglist: to be followed in a reblog.

✨Please remember that comments and re-blogs are appreciated✨

Meetings in the Moonlight Pt. 2 (undateables version)

Content Warnings: None; just general anxiety/depression. I made some aspects of the scenarios open for your interpretation as well.

gn!MC x Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon, and Solomon. Platonic Luke.

Diavolo:

You were staying over at the Demon Lord's Castle for the weekend

It was partly meant to be a vacation from the seven brothers, but also because you really wanted to spend some time with the Demon Lord himself.

You found yourself tossing and turning as you lay in the guest room bed.

It was the comfiest bed you've ever laid in, but somehow you still couldn't fall asleep.

You were restless. A sick feeling in the pit of your stomach.

Was it...homesickness?

You sighed, tossing the covers off of your body, deciding you needed some air.

You find yourself in the gazebo in Diavolo's garden

You breathe in the cool, night air. The light floral scent from the garden relaxes you slightly.

The moon is bright and full, complimented by the starry night sky.

You feel a lump in your throat as you gaze up at the beauty of the meteor shower that is taking place miles above you.

Suddenly, you are crying.

The feeling of homesickness washes over you, and the tears roll down your cheeks.

"MC?" you hear a voice behind you.

Trying to wipe away your tears with your sleeve, you spin around to see Diavolo.

"Dia..?" you squeak.

He gives you a gentle smile as he steps up to join you in the gazebo.

"Hello my darling. What troubles you this late at night?"

You shake your head, spinning back around to rest your arms on the railing.

"I think I might be missing home." you sniff.

Diavolo hums, taking a step closer to you.

You feel big arms wrap around you and you sink into his embrace.

"I understand. Shall I take you back to the House of Lamentation?" he asks softly, nuzzling his face into your hair.

You shake your head, turning around so your face is now buried in his chest.

"No. You being here is helping a lot, Diavolo."

He smiles, rubbing small circles on your back.

"Shall we return to bed then, my love? I will call Barbatos for some tea."

You smile, wiping away the last of your tears for the night. "Yes please."

That's all he needed to hear as he gently lifts you into his arms, carrying you bridal style back to the warmth of the castle.

"Let's get comfortable. I'll make sure you feel right at home in no time."

Barbatos

You don't remember when, but you must have fallen asleep at some point.

Your eyes blink awake rapidly, trying to adjust to the low light of the candle burning bright in the corner of the room.

Taking in your surroundings, you begin to remember where you are.

You came over to Diavolo's Castle after RAD to have tea with Barbatos... and to work on some homework.

You were exhausted to begin with, and the warmth of the tea had you yawning almost instantly.

Apparently, you had fallen asleep on the couch in the tea room.

The castle was silent, and you figured it was probably pretty late.

You glance at your phone, seeing that the time was 2:30 am.

Upon checking the time, you also notice a text from someone who you don't particularly feel like talking to.

Turning your phone over, you bring your knees to your chest.

Your eyes now start to burn with tears.

You start to tremble as sadness and guilt plagues you.

The tears can't seem to stop after they've already started.

You jump slightly as you feel gentle hands on your shoulders.

Lifting your head, you find Barbatos standing behind you, draping a blanket over your shoulders.

"Hello, MC. Pardon my intrusion, but I heard you stirring awake and figured I would check in on you."

You sniff, attempting to hide your face in the blanket he had just given you. "I-It's okay..." you accidentally stutter, grimacing as your voice gives you away.

"My, my. What is troubling you MC?"

His voice is soft and calm, but his concern for you is evident.

You begin to sob a little harder, once again burying your face into your knees. Through your tears, you explain the message you had gotten to the royal butler.

"It sounds like this individual causes a lot of unnecessary stress to you. Shall I kindly confiscate your phone for the remainder of the evening?"

Nodding, you pass your phone into his gloved hand. Tonight was not the night to give it the little energy you had left.

"That's much better. I'll keep this for now. Anyone who is causing the smile to disappear from your face isn't worth your time right now. There are other pressing matters to attend to." he smiles as he tucks your phone away into his jacket pocket.

You can't help but smile back at him. His jade green eyes seem to glow as he reaches a hand back out to you.

"Would you care to follow me to your room? I would be glad to tuck you in."

He pulls you up off of the couch, and you stumble against his chest.

He holds you for a moment, his hands resting on your waist.

You nuzzle your face into his neck as he holds you. He plants a soft kiss into your hair.

"Thank you, Barbatos." you whisper.

"Now, there's no reason to thank me. Let's just go get some sleep, it's way past your bedtime."

Simeon

What you thought was finally a peaceful night's sleep was interrupted by unpleasant dreams, startling you awake at the wee hours of the night

Your breathing is heavy and you try to calm yourself down.

Ever since you had that encounter with a rouge demon in town the other day, you've been on edge.

Especially since you are staying at Purgatory Hall instead of the House of Lamentation surrounded by the brothers, you're feeling a little uneasy.

Of course you know Simeon, Solomon and Luke would never allow harm to come to you.

But your nightmares say otherwise.

Your stomach is in knots with anxiety, and you decide you need to get some fresh air.

You throw on a cardigan, and tip toe down the hallway.

The balcony seems like the perfect place to calm your racing heart.

Once the cool air hits you, the adrenaline of the dream begins to wear off.

Your eyes begin to sting, and you aren't sure it's from the cold air.

Your mind begins to play images of the demon that attacked you, and your tears are now wet with tears.

You tremble, wrapping your cardigan tighter against you.

"MC?"

You hear a soft voice behind you and you spin around, fear in your eyes

"S-Simeon?" You breathe a sigh of relief.

"My little lamb, what are you doing out here at this hour?"

His cerulean blue eyes are filled with worry as he slowly approaches you.

You choke back tears as you find yourself running into his arms.

He gasps softly as you wrap your arms around his torso.

"There, there, MC. I'm here. Can you tell me what's wrong?"

You are still in tears as you explain the close call you had, and he holds you tighter.

"I'm so sorry, my love. I promise i'll always be here to protect you. You have no reason to be afraid when I'm around."

You sniffle, your sobs now turning into little giggles."Like my guardian angel?"

He chuckles softly as he plants a delicate kiss to your forehead.

"I would gladly be your guardian angel. I will be whatever you want me to be for you, MC."

Soon you begin to shiver, the night air's crisp bite getting to you.

"Shall we go sleep in my room for the night?" Simeon offers, taking your hand in his.

You nod, the anxiety in your tummy turning to butterflies.

Arguably, a much better feeling.

Solomon

It was another late night in the wrong timeline

You were seriously exhausted trying to corral the 7 brothers all over again.

You lay wide awake in your bed in Cocytus Hall. Despite how tired you are, you can't manage to fall asleep.

Your mind is racing with thoughts on how to get home.

Home.

Your heart aches, and you roll over.

Even though they are the same brothers you know and love, they are different.

They weren't supposed to know you yet... and you were starting to get discouraged with the whole 'getting home safely back to your own timeline' thing.

Your eyes squeeze shut as they begin to sting with fresh, hot tears.

The tears begin rolling down your cheeks, leaking down onto your pillow case.

Your breath shudders as you begin to hyperventilate.

You don't notice the creak of the door as it opens.

You also don't notice the bed shifting from the weight of another person sitting down next to you.

Suddenly, your torso is being gently lifted so you are now in an upright position.

Gentle hands rub your back and quiet murmurs of "Shhh.." and "It's alright, MC" soothe your state of panic.

You attempt to catch your breath as you glance over at your unexpected guest.

"S-Solomon...i-i'm sorry..."

His silver hair practically glows in the moonlight that shines through your bedroom window.

"It's alright, deep breaths, MC. Do you want to talk about what is troubling you?" he offers you a handkerchief and you take it with trembling hands.

He already knows, but you can't help but tell him how homesick you are.

How much you miss the brothers. But your version of the brothers.

He nods, expecting this. "You're trying very hard, MC. We both are. And we will get there, I promise you."

You throw yourself into his chest, wrapping your arms around him.

"I hope so, Sol. Please tell me that's a reality for us."

He hums, squeezing you tight. All he wants to do is protect you from the world.

"I know you'll make it a reality, MC. You continue to impress me everyday."

You begin to relax into him as he cradles you, gently rocking you in his lap.

After awhile you pull away, and he surprises you with a peck to the forehead.

You can't help but smile, gazing up at him with tired eyes.

"There. You look so much better with that cute smile on your face."

You scoff, rolling your eyes. "Don't sound like some creepy old man."

He chuckles, brushing your hair out of your face. "Well this old man is tired. Why don't we get some rest together, my dear MC?"

Luke

You startled awake, grasping at your bedsheets.

Your forehead is soaked with sweat, causing your hair to stick to your face.

You thought you were over the nightmares, but they still somehow manage to plague the peacefulness of your dreams.

Gasping for air, you hop out of bed.

You decide you need some water. And some air.

Remembering that you had stayed overnight at Purgatory Hall, you make your way in the direction of the kitchen.

Trying to stay quiet, you creak open the door of the kitchen, wincing at the high pitch squeal that elicits from it.

You grab some water, taking thirsty gulps as you try to calm down.

However, you can't help the tears that spill over your cheeks.

You sob softly, still trying to keep quiet. You weren't sure how late it was, but you knew everyone else would be asleep.

Or so you thought.

You hear the door creak open again, and you spin around quickly, tears still glistening on your cheeks.

"H-Hello? U-Um, who is in here? Is everything ok?"

You hear the tiny voice of Luke, his blonde head peeking through the door.

You give him a half-hearted smile as you attempt to wipe your tears away.

"H-Hi Luke, it's just me. Yeah i'm okay. You don't need to worry."

You hear a small sigh of relief as he steps into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

He glances up at you, more awake now that he notices your sniffles and red rimmed eyes.

"B-But... you were crying...are you sure you're okay?" he frowns, sadness filling his bright blue eyes.

You shake your head, sitting down at the kitchen table. "I just had a bad dream and I got really thirsty, so i needed some water."

Luke nods, coming over to sit down next to you.

"I get that. I have bad dreams too. The Devildom is a little scary sometimes, so i try my best to be brave during the daytime...but at night..." he glances around, shivering a little.

You chuckle, nodding in agreement. "I'm glad you understand. Sometimes it's a little scary to me, too."

Of course, you don't want to tell him about the night of the incident with Belphegor.

That's the true reason nightmares creep in at night. But you don't want to scare the little angel more.

"But you're so brave, MC. It makes me want to be a little stronger too."

You smile, reaching out to ruffle his blonde hair.

"Luke, you are already so brave. You came in here ready to fight off whatever intruder was lurking in kitchen!"

He giggles, grabbing your hand. "I will always keep you safe, MC!"

It's your turn to giggle now as you stand up to stretch, a yawn escaping in the process.

"Well what do you say we head back to our rooms before Simeon hears and comes and scolds us? Then you'll really have to protect us both."

[bobfloydsbabe]

eccentric professor bob floyd (historical romance version) sneak peek

Encouraged by my wonderful friends @withahappyrefrain and @ryebecca, I present you a sneak peek at the historical romance AU fic I'm working on for Eccentric Professor Bob and Imogen. I shared the beginning of this for a tag game a couple of days ago, but I've added more to it since then. Enjoy ✨

“Who’s there?”

The flickering candle comes closer, and slowly, the holder’s dark doe eyes come into his line of sight, along with long wavy hair and soft-looking skin.

“Lady Imogen,” he says when she stops a few paces away. 

“Professor,” she greets, one brow quirked. “What brings you here at this time of night?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Her breathy chuckle fills the quiet library. “So you could,” she agrees. “I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d get something to read.”

“I had the same thought,” he admits. He’s trying not to look at her state of undress, but his eyes travel down to her simple cotton nightgown, and his breath hitches. She’s not wearing a dressing gown.

Imogen seems unfazed by his wandering eye.

“Did you find something advanced enough to challenge your mind, Professor?”

He drags his gaze back to her face. “Not yet,” he says. “Perhaps you have a recommendation?”

In the candlelight, her mouth turns up in a smile that makes her keen eyes sparkle. Humming, she scans the shelves he’s standing in front of, inspecting the titles and writers, and he wonders, not for the first time, where she’s been hiding all his life.

Knowing of her is one thing, but knowing her is something else entirely. He longs to touch her. To feel her skin against his, the taste of her tongue, the sounds she’d make when he gives her pleasure. He wants all of it but is entitled to none of it.

He aches in a way he’s never done before.

“Ah,” she says, having spotted something interesting on the shelf. She reaches past him, her breast grazing his chest as she stands on her tiptoes to reach. Despite the fabric separating them, every cell in his body’s on fire, and the blood that first rushed to his head now travels south to his cock.

If her breast through cotton does this to him, he’s afraid of what would happen if he touched her bare skin.

Unaware of his internal crisis, Imogen grasps the book she’d spotted and settles back on her feet. She studies the leather-bound book for a moment. “I’m surprised the Countess even has a copy of this. She does not strike me as someone with a vested interest in the subject.”

“Perhaps the Earl added it to the library,” he says without knowing what book it is and takes a step away to put some distance between them.

“The Earl is a dear friend of my father’s, but he is not an intelligent man,” Imogen explains. “The Countess is a brilliant woman. I am quite certain it was she who acquired it.”

Imogen offers the book to him. He snatches it out of her hand quickly, hoping she won’t look at him too long and notice the extra limb throbbing in his trousers.

He opens to the title page, brow furrowing when he realizes the book she’s recommended to him. His head whips up.

“I’m sure you’ve already read it,” she says, looking uncertain for the first time since she joined him. “Darwin makes a compelling argument. I wrote him a letter with a list of questions, but never received a reply. I’m sure he thinks me a feebleminded woman who won’t understand the complexities of his theory.”

Robert closes the book. “If Darwin thinks you feebleminded, he is a fool.”

likes are nice, but reblogs and comments are golden

TAGLIST: @bobgasm, @attapullman, @kmc1989, @bluezraven, @seitmai, @roosterforme, @just-in-case-iloveyou, @sweetwhispersofchaos, @auroraseddie, @cherrycola27, @keyrani, @solo-pitstop-vibes, @sio-ina-bottle, @hangmanapologist, @bradshawsbaby, @fandom-princess-forevermore, @bcarolinablr, @xoxabs88xox

[enchantedwitchling]

Beginner's Guide to Magic Spells and Rituals: Embracing Your Inner Sorcery

🔮📜✨

For those who have just stepped into the enchanting realm of magic, casting spells and performing rituals can seem both exciting and daunting. But fear not, dear beginners! With the right intention and a sprinkle of curiosity, you can unleash your inner sorcery and create magic that resonates with your soul.

In this post, I’ll explore some beginner-friendly magic spells and rituals that I have used so far in my practice, and I think will ignite your journey into the world of spell craft as they have done for me!

🌟✨

1.A Simple Candle Spell 🕯️🌟

Candle spells are a delightful way to channel your intentions into the universe. Choose a colored candle that corresponds to your desired outcome—such as green for prosperity or pink for love. Light the candle, and as the flame dances before your eyes, visualize your intentions manifesting in the physical realm.

2.Charging a Crystal for Intention 🌌🔮

Crystals are potent allies in the world of magic. Pick a crystal that aligns with your goal—for example, amethyst for intuition or citrine for abundance. Hold the crystal in your hands, close your eyes, and focus on your intention. Imagine the crystal absorbing your desires and becoming a beacon of energy to aid you on your journey.

3.Moonwater Blessing 🌙🌊

Harness the moon's mystical energies to create moonwater—an empowering tool for cleansing and charging. On a Full Moon night, place a jar of water under the moonlight. The next morning, you'll have moonwater ready to cleanse your crystals, tools, or even yourself for heightened magic.

4.Daily Affirmation Ritual 🌞🌿

Incorporate magic into your everyday life with a simple daily affirmation ritual. Each morning, take a moment to stand before a mirror. Look deeply into your own eyes and recite positive affirmations, such as "I am strong," "I am worthy," or "I am a powerful creator." This ritual will boost your confidence and align you with your magical potential.

5.Manifestation Jar Spell 🌈💌

Manifestation jar spells are like cosmic wish lists. Find a small jar and fill it with dried herbs, flowers, and small crystals that represent your goals and aspirations. Write down your wishes on small pieces of paper and place them inside the jar. Seal it with love and trust that the universe will hear your heart's desires.

🌟✨

Remember, magic is a personal journey of growth and empowerment. Embrace the process with an open heart and a willingness to learn from both successes and challenges. With every spell and ritual, you'll unveil more of your inner magic and find yourself weaving a life filled with wonder and possibility.

So, take a deep breath, light that spark of curiosity, and step boldly into the world of spells and rituals. The universe is waiting for your enchanting incantations.

🔮📜✨