#and grass IS great because it's green
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nataliescatorccio · 7 months ago
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#me trying to talk to people
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kyojuuros · 6 months ago
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Let's change shiny Garchomp's color scheme!
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sucktacular · 2 years ago
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Someone I follow on Instagram is hosting a trans only pool party in New Jersey and it's not at all in my area (Toronto/GTA) but OHHHHHH myyyy GOOOODDD I wish it was 😭😭😭 I just wanna hang out with trans folk and swim together and have an amazing time!!!!
If y'all ever hear of events like that in the southern Ontario/western New York area please lemme know! If it's a pool/beach + some flavor of gay I want in on that!
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mybeingthere · 4 months ago
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Wally Dion, born 1976, Saskatoon, Saskatchewan.
Fabric Star Quilts.
Wally (Walter) Dion is a Canadian artist of Saulteaux ancestry living and working in Upstate New York. Working in a number of media including painting, drawing and sculpture.
Wally explains:
"The first fabric star quilt was made as part of a 2022 residency at Wanuskewin Park. It was my way of reflecting upon prairie tall grass and the reintroduction of bison into the Great Plaines. I wanted to make several transparent quilts and superimpose them; one in front another... a quilt for the microbiome, another for the bison, their manure & hooves, another for the summer fires that scorch the ground and a final quilt for the sweetgrass braid.
I was considering how all of these things worked together for thousands of years to create what is known as the 'prairie tall grass ecosystem'. A vast and fertile expanse of land stretching from the foothills of Alberta to the banks of the Mississippi. I wanted to highlight the invisibility of systems when everything is working well, as it should be.
I started with the green quilt because it is the colour of the sweet grass braid that is exchanged in ceremony and relationship building. I considered the nature and tradition of quilting; impoverished craftspeople using tiny scraps of fabric. I considered the act of offering fabric and adherence to tradition. I thought of a thousand tiny prayers and how that might look; invisible acts of respect and adherence to protocols spanning decades. My thoughts travelled across the land, imagining the trees and rocks collecting these prayers like a bush of cloth, or an etched boulders."
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aphelionwrotes11 · 5 months ago
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MDNI 18+ (light dubcon) unedited
Part 3 : Trucker!simon
CW: smut, cunnilingus/fingering, fluff, a little bit of hurt/comfort
1.6k words
Trucker!simon finally takes his bird home
It takes only a month before you’re quitting your job at the shitty truck stop and talking your landlord out of your lease. Simon does all of the heavy lifting when it comes to the moving. Attaches a trailer to the back of his semi cab and uses that to haul your belongings to his private home in the outskirts of the city.
He tells you this is his actual house, the one he’s taken you to before was just the rental he kept to stay in when he was in the city. Just more convenient, closer to the loading dock for the company he works for. It shocks you that he can afford to rent and own a property at the same time, and he does it just because it’s convenient.
It’s a real nice property, large and lush. The long gravel driveway is lined with pines and brush, at the end is a two story home with a large unfenced yard full of green grass and clover. You can’t help the way you gape at the house, So beautiful, and obviously paid for by the money he made in the military and his fat check from long rides in his truck.
He walks you around the entire property as soon as you get there, showing you around inside and out. The house is even more beautiful inside than out, with gorgeous stained glass windows, wooden beams, spiraling stairs, and a kitchen lined with green tile with flower accents. The decor itself is all rather plain, practically a blank canvas, but it just gives you more to work with. There’s a couch where there’s supposed to be one, a coffee table, plates and silverware for two, but not much else.
When you question him on why there’s practically no furniture at all, he just says he’s never needed much. You imagine so, just one man living in a big house. He doesn’t mention that he bought this property not too long after he saw you for the first time, known since the beginning he would have you one way or another.
“Ther’s space in th’back for a garden. Can put whatever ya want in it.” He tells you, and smiles as you grin excitedly, saying that’s great because you’ve always wanted to start up a garden. (He knows, came home and built up some plant beds and bought gardening supplies after you told him that on the first date.)
He spends the next few hours helping you unpack all of your things, which isn’t much. Didn’t exactly have a lot of space for anything other than necessities in your dingy apartment. He takes extra care placing your folded clothes into your shared dresser. Lining your panties beside his boxers. Chuckles as you wave him off, telling him you can do it yourself with a blush on your cheeks. Walks away with a pair of black lace panties tucked in his back pocket, he’s gonna put those in his truck for the next ride out.
The first few weeks are like a dream, the two of you spending nearly every moment together. You weren’t expecting it to feel this easy. You weren’t expecting yourself to wanna be around him so much. You used to call yourself an introvert, preferred your personal time and space over all else. But now you find yourself crawling across the couch to nestle yourself into his arms late at night, or opting to read your books on the bench in the garage as he works on his truck.
The first time he leaves for work isn’t as bad as you thought it would be, he was gone for only 14 hours. Left in the early morning when it was still dark and came home just in time for dinner.
The second time wasn’t so easy, his ride was a full 25 hours away, and you found yourself nervous the entire time he was gone. He told you before hand that he would occasionally have to go on overnight rides, sometimes he’d have to go on rides that would take a week. But he assured you that those were few and far between. Unfortunately he had told you that before holiday season.
And now, as the next week goes by and you find yourself only seeing your boyfriend a few hours a day, your irritation only grows with each passing 24 hours. When he comes back to his lovely bird being sharp and cold, he knows that something has gotta change.
“Whots th’matter, bird? Talk to me.” He says, a tinge of desperation in his voice, only to be met with your frown as you turned back to your book.
When he first picked up this job after retiring from the military, he didn’t mind the ever changing schedule or long rides. Figured it was for the best, something to keep him busy until he’s too old to work anymore. That was until he met you. Suddenly the long rides felt like eternity until he could return to that greasy truck stop to see you again.
And now that he has you all for himself, the long rides and changing hours make him dread waking up in the morning just to leave your beautiful sleeping form all alone. On the third day of your cold shoulder, the next time he goes into work he has a talk with his boss. He’s promised a strict schedule and reduced hours as soon as the holiday season is finished, with all of the other truckers already knee deep in work, it just wasn’t an option to implement his new schedule so soon.
He makes plans to use a couple weeks of his unused PTO by the next month so that he can make up for the lost time.
When he comes home after a particularly rough shift, his skin feels tight and muscles tense, all he can hope for is to pull you into his arms and nestle his face into your neck. But as it’s been for the past few days, you’re cold once he comes home. He can’t help the irritation that builds in his gut as you ignore him when he asks how your day was.
“Alright bird, that’s it.” He says, rising from his seat that the table and getting to you in record time.
You gasp as he lifts you up and lays you on the kitchen island. Ignores your protests as he lifts up your nightgown and pulls down your panties to reveal an already glistening pussy.
“Been so good for you bird, workin’ so hard, gettin’ that shit done just to come home to you all pissy..” he growls, letting out a low groan as he presses a thumb to your swollen clit.
“Whot you so mad at me for? Think you can’t talk to me?” He asks, pressing his index finger into your pussy as you squirm.
“Would rather you yell at me than this shit- fuck-“ he says lowly, bringing his nose down to your lips and sniffing..like a dog. Chuckles as you whine at him.
“Don’t worry birdie, I’ll make you feel better.”
With that, he starts thrusting his fingers into your throbbing cunt as he licks your clit with his thick tongue.
It’s not long before he’s thrusting into you at a godforsaken pace, the only sounds being your moans and mewls, his low groans, and the lewd sound of your wet pussy being finger fucked and sucked on by his drooling mouth.
“Love you bird, y’know I do-“ he mumbles into your pussy, pressing a kiss to your clit.
You feel that familiar coil of pleasure tighten in your core, your toes are curling, your nerves are hot. You choke out a warning, telling him you are so, so close. He doesn’t relent, just carries on.
The orgasm is blinding, your eyes rolling back into your head as you clamp your thighs around his head. He moans into your pussy as you cum, slurping up your juices and rubbing his nose against your clit.
Pushes you to the point of near overstimulation, stops once you start crying that it’s too much. When he pulls away, a string of his spit and your juices is connected to his mouth. His pupils are blown wide and he looks out of it. He’s panting, fingers digging into the fat of your thighs as he presses kisses into the tender skin.
He presses his cheek into your tummy and glances up at you, “feeling better?” He asks with a smirk.
After he’s finished with you (which is when the sun has long since set) and you are snuggled in his warm arms on your shared bed is when he tells you about his conversation with his boss.
“M’sorry. Been neglecting ya, haven’t I birdie? Won’t do it again.” He tells you. But you shush him with your own apologies, telling him you should’ve just talked to him, shouldn’t have ignored him and so on.
“Don’t ever feel ‘fraid of talkin’ to me, bird. I’ll always listen.” He says into your hair.
That night, after a long week of coldness and anger, the two of you lay sound asleep in each others warm embrace, totally peaceful.
Note: hey guys!!! Hope you enjoyed this one!! Had to add in a little bit of sweetness for you all 🩷🩷 as usual this one is unedited so please forgive any mistakes or lack of cohesiveness, I’m planning on coming back and editing a bunch of stuff eventually. But for now I’m just kinda throwing random things out for fun 😆 anyways, next thing I’ll be bringing out will most probably be stalker!simon, that or trucker!john price. Love you all, xoxo 😘
Simon Riley master list
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coralinnii · 12 days ago
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"Eyes are Windows to the Soul"
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↳ Admiring your Dark Brown eyes
feat: Idia ❋ Sebek ❋ Kalim ❋ Trey genre: fluff note: no pronouns were used for reader, set before Book 7 (mostly because I haven’t finished it yet),
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Idia grew up sheltered in a sterile world, filled with LED lights and sleek metal walls. Shades of brown were not common in his daily routine, so he didn’t have a lot of opinions on it. 
In a world of neon blue and cold silver, your brown eyes ironically stood out in Idia’s world. 
Your eyes remind him of fluffy brown kittens, filled with warmth and mischief. You remind him of those adorable teddy bear prizes in claw machines that everyone covets. You were everything he dreams of holding, but often out of reach.
That is until the two of you grew closer, then he sees your eyes in the ice-cold colas he’s chugging during long grinding sessions with you. He feels a tingling sensation when he sees your eyes in the dry autumn leaves crunching beneath his feet whenever you drag him out to “touch some grass” 
Your brown eyes remind him of everything fluffy and warm, of fuzzy feelings and snugness. 
Your eyes give off energy, but it’s not scary or overwhelming at all. Rather, it’s soft and enjoyable like a refreshing drink on a hot day.
You seem so out of place in his old world, but Idia couldn’t imagine a life without you anymore.
”Uggh, that cat is just too cute, what a sensory overload! Huh, when did brown cats become my fav? I-I guess kinda recently?”
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Sebek holds himself with prestige and integrity, a well-kept man with honor to uphold. 
But his experience is filled with the great wilderness, with the natural and unbending beauty of the forest. He proudly recalls his childhood living close to the world of fae and nature. 
You were a human. Your upbringing was nothing like his own, a pair of opposites with nothing in common
But, when you look at him with your sweet brown eyes, Sebek sometimes feels lost in nostalgia. In your eyes, he sees the beautiful trees of his homeland, he sees his beloved worn-out books in his bookshelves passed down by his grandfather. 
Not only his childhood memories, Sebek feels the same feeling of familiarity in his current lifestyle. He’s reminded of the joy and excitement he feels when he trusts his whole self to the majestic brown horses in the campus wooden stables. 
Is it because just like his trusted steed, your warm brown eyes effortlessly shine with so much strength?
Lost in your eyes, he recalls feelings of comfort and home, a connection to what makes Sebek…himself. Though he may not admit it, the stubborn young man finds solace just by staring into your eyes.
"Do I ever feel homesick? Of course I do! I simply… haven’t been feeling all that distant from my homeland as of late”
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Kalim is not only surrounded by shades of brown, but also reds, yellows, greens, and everything else in the large spectrum of color. His world is bright and vibrant, never a dull moment for the boisterous heir. 
You fit right into his life, adding more happiness to his routine. Your existence gave off a sense of wholesome, sweet fun. You join him in his highs yet keep him grounded when he flies too close to the Sun
To anyone else, Kalim lacks nothing in terms of riches. He is financially blessed for generations to come, and Kalim is not ignorant enough to deny otherwise. 
But lately, whenever he watches you, he ponders on what the word “rich” truly meant to him. 
Some would call your brown eyes pretty but rather plain, but regardless Kalim would catch himself swimming in the hue of your irises. 
In your eyes, he sees the deep color of expensive cognac that many would gift his parents, he sees the color of flawless leather prized by countless merchants, and he sees the color of fertile soil that nurtures and feeds his country. 
If someone were to ask his opinion, Kalim would say that richness and pricelessness could be defined by your eyes. Kalim may have an abundance of gold and silver but there is no price that could compare to the look of pure love in your exquisite eyes.
"Have you ever seen a chocolate diamond before? They’re really pretty with a wonderful shine. I really like them, I’ll show you one someday!”
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While he isn’t against dabbling in certain subjects and interests, Trey has a pretty solid idea of his future, to become a patissier and to either inherit his family's bakery or start his own business. 
Trey doesn’t see himself as anyone extravagant nor does he really want to be. Sure, he may be in a prestigious school, and he may hold an enviable position as a vice-Housewarden, but the green-haired senior holds himself more modestly. 
You knew well of his humble dream, and he appreciated the way you would support him however you can, be it a taste tester for new recipes or assisting him in the kitchen before a busy unbirthday party. 
In this close proximity, Trey is allowed more chances to glance your way, especially your eyes. 
He sees the resemblance in your eyes the color of the chestnuts you collected with the mischievous freshmen, the first day he noticed how cute you were. He’s reminded of warm brownies and cookies he would bake in secret just for you, all to see those very eyes sparkle. He imagines a brick house in the same shade as your eyes, where he’ll live out his peaceful life with you.
In your warm brown eyes, he feels reassurance and security. Trey doesn’t need a lavish lifestyle or a grand plan. All he could wish for is a life where he could bake cakes and pay taxes with you.
“I’m not exactly the most romantic with words, but I do like your eyes. They remind me of…my oven. Ah, that sounded a bit…” 
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chase-prairie · 14 days ago
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In England Have My Bones [T.H.] White wrote one of the saddest sentences I have ever read: ‘Falling in love is a desolating experience, but not when it is with a countryside.’ He could not imagine a human love returned. He had to displace his desires onto the landscape, that great, blank green field that cannot love you back, but cannot hurt you either. [...] But the countryside wasn’t just something that was safe for White to love: it was a love that was safe to write about.
"It took me a long time to realise how many of our classic books on animals were by gay writers who wrote of their relationships with animals in lieu of human loves of which they could not speak."
Gavin Maxwell’s Ring of Bright Water, for example: the tale of a lonely man on the Scottish coast with an Iraqi otter on his sofa. Or the books of the BBC radio naturalist Maxwell Knight, former MI5 spymaster and closet queen. Doubly disallowed to speak openly of his allegiances, Knight wrote a book about hand-rearing a cuckoo called Goo. His obsession with this small, greedy, feathery, parasitic bird is terribly moving; it was a species made of all the hidden elements of Knight’s life: subterfuge, deceit, passing oneself off as something one is not. [...]
[T.H. White] kept [grass snakes] because ‘it was impossible to impose upon them, or steal their affections’. He loved them because they were misunderstood, maligned, and ‘inevitably themselves.’
----------- Chapter 4, H is for Hawk by Helen Macdonald (2014)
Does anyone know other sources that talk about the intersections between queer writers and nature writing? As a queer lady who does exactly that, this passage has always stuck with me.
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justwonder113 · 15 days ago
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Sharing a bed with Changbin
Chan; Lee Know ; Changbin; Hyunjin; Han; Felix; Seungmin; IN;
My Masterlist
Summary: What happens when Changbin comes to pick you up after a night out with your friends.
Warning: Chaos just pure Chaos. Cursing as always; Reader is a female; Both reader and Changbin are dummies. Literally idiots in love; Mentions of drinking, reader is a bit tipsy at the start. mentions of kissing. NOT PROOFREAD. Please tell me if I miss anything.
A/N- Heya babies I'm back! I really hope you'll like this, I really had fun writing this so I hope you will enjoy it. If you have any request of just thoughts to share please feel free to do so. Also if you want to be added to the taglist either comment or massage or even send an ask.
Word count- 3.5k
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Sometimes drinking alcohol and getting drunk with your best friends was all that you needed to unwind after a hard week of working your ass off. However, as much as you loved feeling this light, carefree, relaxed and let’s just simply say euphoric, alcohol intake also had its cons. For example, this lightness and relaxation came with the price of being unable to stand straight on your legs and your crush looking way more yummy than usual.
You weren’t really planning to go out. After a day you had at work all you felt like was to go home, take a warm bath and snuggle in bed with some good movie playing on the background. Your best friend came up with the idea to go clubbing and getting some overpriced but tasty drinks. You were reluctant at first but after thinking things over you decided to go. And it was great! You had time of your life and it was just what you needed to fully relax and wash off the stress of your daily life. The only problem now was that you had a bit too much to drink and could barely stand on your legs and you felt really dizzy. Also watching Changbin help your friend (who was also wasted if not more than you) get to her door, and mind you he got every one of your friends to their houses because it was really late and he didn’t want them to go with cabs in the middle of the night while in this vulnerable state. You had to call mama Seo and thank her for raising such a gentleman!
Okay maybe you were a bit biased, It wasn’t a secret your feelings for Changbin had been more than platonic. You two had known each other for quite a while. You didn’t know when it started but you two had been flirting around with each other since forever but neither one of you made that final move to make things official. So here you were stuck in the middle ground, where you couldn’t really be called just friends but you weren’t dating each other either.
Of course you would be more than happy to get out of that situation. At least you would try and move on from him if he didn’t want to date and make things official. You just weren’t sure how you should make the first move, you always kind of expected he would be the first one to ask you out.
You were startled out of your thoughts when you heard Changbin return in the car, you couldn’t help but smile as you took in his disheveled hair and rosy cheeks from the cold.
“Are you sleepy baby?” – He asked as he noticed your dazed eyes.
“Yea, but I can’t sleep. I shouldn’t.” You sighed out as you watched him start the car.
“Why is that bubz?” He looked at you for a second before shifting his gaze to the road.
“If I close my eyes I can not look at your pretty face!” You made sure to whine as dramatically as possible. Changbin let out one of his notorious cackles.
“God that was so cheesy!”-He wheezed out after a few seconds of laughing like he had been possessed with a spirit of an ancient witch.
You grabbed your own cheeks making sure to smush them together just enough, blinked at him all cutely and continued to tease him like the sweetheart you were. “Shut up you love me.”
“I do.” Wow how the tables turn he just admitted it like it was the most common fact ever. Grass is green, sky is blue and apparently Seo Changbin is in love with you.
“Wait really?” You really couldn’t believe your own ears.
“Yeah of course.” Again, he was so incredibly casual about it! Oh no you couldn’t let it slide.
“Why aren’t you asking me out to date then?” There it was, there was no return now.
Changbin not only snapped his head so fast that there might have been a possibility that he could’ve broken his neck, but he also stopped his car so aburtly you had to thank god there was no one behind you.
“What do you mean ask you out?” Wow was it so horrible to even imagine it? You thought you two had a thing. Were you wrong?
“Oh my god have I been misreading the situation the whole time? This is so embarrassing. I am so sorry…”
It was his turn to panic now, which made you feel a bit relieved, because you felt like you were losing your shit! “No no it’s not that I promise!”
“When what is?” You couldn’t hide your desperation now. Maybe you could blame it on alcohol later and hope to move on?
“I thought we were dating?”
A blink.
Another blink.
“Changbin what the fuck? How the fuck did you believe we were dating?” You were full on yelling now because what the fuck did he mean he thought you two were dating! Since fucking when?
“I don’t know! I just did! We already act like a couple so what’s the big deal? Wait you don’t like me?” Forget all the sappy shit, you felt like strangling him.
“I do but…” God how did you manage to get yourself in this fucking situation? “God this is giving me such a headache.”
Changbin looked just as lost and even guilty. “I’m sorry. But I genuinely thought we were dating.”
“Since when?” You had to get in the bottom of this, or else your head was going to explode.
“I don’t know, like Han’s birthday party? You remember when you kissed me?” He tried to reason but the new knowledge almost made you choke on your own spit. God was really laughing at you.
“I fucking did WHAT?”
“YOU DON’T REMEMBER?” Changbin full on screamed in shock. Really what did you do to deserve this?
“NO!” You screamed back, and with it went last drops of alcohol remaining in your body and your sanity. Ain’t no way you could return to being normal after this.
“I mean I knew that you drank a little that day but damn! You don’t remember kissing me?” Changbin had his face in his hands, the car still ignited just casually standing in the middle of the road. Thank god there was no one around.
“Fuck me I gotta stop drinking. No I don’t remember kissing you.” Honestly nothing seemed more tempting right now than crying your eyes out at the sheer ridiculousness of it all.
“Unbelievable.” Your heart clenched at Changbin’s sulky and sad voice. You were furious at yourself for not remembering kissing this cinnamon roll.
“I’m sorry. What happened? Tell me a full story.” You pleaded as if hearing the full story would magically return your memories and make the situation any better.
“I don’t know, I walked you home, we were about to say goodbye and you kissed me. I thought that you were drunk but you confessed that you liked me and it seemed so sincere, and we’ve been flirting for ages! How was I supposed to know you wouldn’t remember anything?”
“This is so unfair! You are telling me I have been literally dreaming about how would kissing you be like and in reality I have already done it?” Talk about unfair!
A biggest smile broke on his face and his whole mood shifter 180. “Aww baby you’ve been dreaming about kissing me?”
You really felt like pulling your own hair out now.  How was he so calm all of a sudden? “Binnie, baby, respectfully shut the fuck up.”
“But you like me!” He looked so giddy now, what a precious dummy. You really felt like shutting him up with a fat smooch on his lips. You had to pull yourself together.
“Bin you had been convinced we had been dating I don’t know for how many months now. I had you THAT convinced. Of course I fucking like you.”
“Aww you said it again that you like me!”
“I swear to god Seo!” Changbin gasped like he had been slapped making you also flinch in shock.
“Not the last name! I liked it better when you called me Binnie and baby and love and all the sweet stuff.” Was he serious right now? A smile broke out on your face against your will, he was so cute.
You sighed in defeat. “Okay I won’t call you by your last name.”
“Also not the first name. I’m Binnie to you!” To make his point he even crossed his arms, his lips all pouty and cheeks all fluffy.
“Okay Binnie.” You held in your pinky as a promise, he immediately linked it with his feeling satisfied.
 You two sat in silence for a few seconds, thankfully he started to drive again. “So like what do we do now?” He broke the silence looking at you with confused eyes.
“I don’t know Bin, let me think for a sec?”
“But” - He tried to protest but you didn’t let him.
“Please baby?”  You gave him the best puppy eyes ever, knowing damn well he wouldn’t be able to resist. You just needed a second.
“That’s not fair, You know I can’t say no when you ask me like that!”
The ride to the home was quiet, with the only problem arising when you were in front of your house.
“Bin I Think we have a problem.” You sighed feeling way too drained to care about this new problem.
“Wait what? Why?” You cured yourself for making him feel anxious, you quickly leaned in and grabbed his hands.
“Calm down baby.” You tried to reassure.
“What is it?”
“I just can’t find my keys.” You admitted bashfully.
“Are you kidding? Did you lose them somewhere?”
“No. I gave it to my friend when we left the house, she just found it in her purse she just texted me.”
“Oh thank god I thought we had to change the locks. Do you want me to go back to her apartment?” Really who was this cute and adorable? This was so unfair for your heart.
“What? No, it would be such an inconvenience. I mean we can go at your house?” You already felt like a hassle you didn’t want to tire him more, It was really late too.
“My house?” Changbin sounded genuinely so surprised you thought you said something wrong for a second. Changbin returned to normal in a second. “I mean it’s not a problem but like our sofa broke, turns out you can’t just like wrestle for the better controller or something like that. Okay what am I even saying you can take my room, me and Hyunjin had shared a bed so many times anyways.”
“It’s fine tho.” Your voice was quiet almost like a whisper.
“What is?” You looked at his face, he looked genuinely confused. You rolled your eyes, he really couldn’t take a hint sometimes.
“I meant that we can share a bed.” You tried your best to sound as cool and as casual as possible even though your heart felt like bursting.
“We can do what now?” he really looked like he couldn’t believe his own ears.
“I mean apparently we had been dating for months now.”
“Hey don’t tease!”
“I gotta do something! My head feels like exploding! We managed to get ourselves in quite a situation right here!” You took a deep breath to calm yourself. “Anyway what I’m saying is that I’m completely fine sharing a bed with you. We’ve established that we like each other so I don’t see the problem here.”
“That’s what I thought the first time too! What if you forget again! What if you wake up in the morning not remembering anything and you’re just there in my bed with me in it! You’ll think I’m some sort of pervert and that I took advantage of you when you were drunk!” There he was being all dramatic and huffy all again.
“I’m not drunk!” Who would be drunk after this?
“You were a few minutes ago!” He had a a point but now you felt more sober than you were before you started drinking.
“Well not anymore! How can I be drunk after all that? And I was just tipsy! I was just fine! You were the one worried and insisting that you come and take me home! For which I love you and appreciate you but still!”
Changbin crossed his arms. “I’m still not sure.”
“What you want me to do a video proof that I fully consent to this?”
Changbin glared at you but then smirked suddenly looking smug. “Maybe it’s not such a bad idea!”
“God you’re so petty sometimes.” Two could play the petty game, you took out your phone and pressed the record button. “Hello future me! It is exactly half past thee in the morning and I’m sitting in the car with Changbin who is driving me to his home. This is a reminder to you in case that I forget in the morning that I fully concent to sharing a same bed with Seo Changbin. And to avoid any further miscommunication I will say in this video that I like him like a lot and appartenly he does return the feelings. However if when we get there he doesn’t kiss me I will end this either month long or minute long relationship right then and there!”
It was his time to roll his eyes now, but he clearly looked amused by all this. “You’re impossible.”
“I’m warning you Seo!” Ain’t no way you wouldn’t get your kiss now that you two were aware of each other’s emotions. No way in hell would count the one you didn’t even remember as your first kiss with him.
“Whatever my love shall request my love shall get!”
***
The ride to his house was quick which was great you were dying to take off your shoes. Whoever invented high heels deserved to burn in hell. Thank god Binnie came to pick you up.
Speaking of which, being the perfect gentleman he is, he immediately got out of the car, ran to your side all cutely and opened your door for you, holding in his hand for you to take. You obviously took it, appreciating the kind gesture and also support because your legs really were hurting like a bitch.
Changbin helped you get out of the car, he even closed the door for you. You were about to thank him but something stopped you Something in his eyes.
You weren’t even able to question anything, before you even knew it, he wrapped his arm around your waist brought you close to his body and in mere second his lips were on yours.
The kiss was firm but also full of love, he kissed you as he was afraid to let you go. His lips were so soft and warm and his body… It was so firm and strong and warm. No wonder you felt so safe and loved whenever you were with him, You couldn’t help but cling to him as you tried to return the kiss with the same vigor. Both of your arms tightly wrapping around his broad shoulders.
Your whole body felt like it was melting, you were sure you wouldn’t even be able to stand straight if it wasn’t him holding you so firmly. How was he even so good at kissing? His kisses felt like a drug and you were getting addicted by the second.
After a while he leaned back and you couldn’t help but actually whine, god what was he doing to you? Seeing you chase his lips made the biggest smile break out on his face. God He looked so beautiful with his flushed cheeks and messy hair, his lips all pretty and pink. Changbin leaned in and gave you few short pecks.
After he felt satisfied with the amount of kisses he gave you he decided to just randomly sweep you off your feet, quite literaly. One second you were somewhat steady on the ground the next you were in the air desperately clinging onto Changbin confused out of your mind.
“What are you doing?” – You managed to huff out giggling at his cute antics.
“You’re feet are hurting.” He said it like a matter of fact.
“I mean yes, but are you going to carry me until we get to your house?”
“Why not?” Again so casual, like holding you and walking up to his house which wasn’t that near wasn’t a big deal.
“Binnie I’m heavy!” You tried to protest, even squirmed a little but to no avail.
“Not really, no.”
“Binnie it isn’t worth it, I’m really heavy.”
“What’s the point of working out if I can’t even carry my girl!” Wow your heart must have done a literal backflip because what the fuck was that movement in your chest?
“I’m your girl?” You didn’t even try to hide the lovesick expression that overtook your face.
Changbin glanced at you for a second, then leaned in and kissed the tip of your nose- “Of course you’re my girl.” So not mindful of your poor heart amusement clear on his face clearly enjoying your flustered state. He continued walking as it was nothing, like holding you was same as holding couple of grapes. He only stopped when you two were in front of his house.
“Can you ring the bell?” He asked with the cutest smile ever, how in your right mind could you say no? You rang the bell then it hit you, the situation you were in. You quickly covered your face as if Changbin wasn’t holding you like you were main dish on a platter. The cackle Changbin let out seeing your antics almost woke up the whole building.
Hyunjin opened up the door after a few seconds, clearly he just rolled out of bed. You felt bad for possibly waking him up. He looked at you two with unamused eyes, Changbin still proudly holding you refusing to let you down, and you looking through your fingers clearly shy.
“Huh so my wife is cheating on me with my friend.”
“Uh pretty much? You’re still number one in my heart you know that.” Changbin answered proudly.
“Hey hyun!” You greeted him shyly after you made sure to smack Changbin’s shoulder.
"Hey! Took you two long enough to get together tho.” Hyunjin deadpanned as he let you two in, Changbin finally letting you down on the armchair.
“Oh let me tell you a juicy story then!” You smiled mischievously completely ignoring Changbin’s protests.
After telling Hyunjin everything and him making fun of you two, mostly Changbin, you decided to get ready for bed. Honestly they would be lucky if the neighbors didn’t call the cops on them, they were so damn loud!
Anyway here you were now, laying on one side of the bed all snug in Changbin’s clothes as Changbin laid stiffly on the other. Honestly, he looked like he would fall of the bed any second now.
“Bin you’re about to fall off the bed!”
“I’m fine.” God even his voice was stiff.
“Bin you literally took my breath away the way you were kissing me earlier what happened now?”
“I don’t think I should get any more close.” He grumbled out after a few seconds of silence.
“Why is that?”
Changbin scoffed like he was baffled how you weren’t understanding what was wrong. “You’ll think badly of me!” Again grumbling inaudibly.
“I promise I won’t.” You tried to reassure him, even held in your pinky finger which he begrudgingly took.
“It’s just you’re here in my bed, in my clothes, looking absolutely beautiful and we were kissing and you look so kissable right now… How am I supposed to control myself?” This boy was going to be the death of you. Who the hell was this cute and adorable and so kissable on a random Tuesday night!
“Then don’t.”
“Baby I swear to god!” Changbin covered his face and almost fell out of the bed, thankfully you managed to drag him to the center of bed just in time. Also this gave you a perfect opportunity. You wrapped your hands around him and hugged him tight, Changbin immediately uncovered his face to wrap his arms around you and hug you back.
“I like you a lot bin.” You mused and leaned in to softly peck his lips, Changbin almost immediately melted into your arms.
“I like you a lot too.” He muttered before bringing you closer to seal your lips in a longer more passionate kiss.
“We’re really really dating now so don’t you start getting shy on me okay?” You couldn’t help but tease.
Changbin groaned at the teasing clearly not amused. “Brat!”
You couldn’t help but giggle as you got more comfortable getting ready to get one of the best sleeps of your life.
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year ago
Text
Run Away To Me (I)
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AU MASTERLIST || PART II
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PAIRING: Blacksmith!Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Runaway Bride!Reader
WORDCOUNT: 4.8k
WARNINGS: Blood, wounds, being hunted/chased, medieval period-esc standards, arranged marriage insinuations, toxic family insinuations, angst, protective Johnny?, etc.
A/N: This series is so Lord Huron coded
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
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You rush through the low-hanging branches of the reaching pines, their green arms tearing at the once perfect and virginal white dress clothing your body; waves of delicate fabric like bird’s wings. Shredded and torn, you sob in large gasps while the shouting gets louder behind you—the pound of vile hooves along cobblestone. 
“After her!” Blood was rushing down a long slice in your palm, dripping to the verdant grass as you traversed the off-trial paths, the roads of animals and bandits—monsters in the night. 
Flashes of torchlight had gone out long ago, the rain slamming the ground with ancient purpose as the storm got angrier. Tree trunks slam into your shoulders, the wedding dress ripping away in strips as pine needles pierce the bare skin of your feet. Your shoes had slipped off as soon as you had started this mad dash. 
“She went this way! Quickly!” You run faster, shuffling down a long hill as mud gets packed into your flesh; infecting wounds with its slimy make-up. 
“Please,” your voice begs lowly, hiccuping out vowels as you drop to your knees at the bottom of a ravine before you sob and grit your teeth. Wading through the stream of chilled water, you dig into the ground and shove yourself up on shaking legs as rain pelts your head. “Please, I can’t go back.”
Even your thin clothes are heavy on you—body weighed down by terror and a desperate plea. Because what you said was true. You can’t go back. Can’t go back to the search party, can’t go back to the ceremony…and you can’t go back to the man you were supposed to marry. No, you’d rather face the woods. 
Scaling up the other edge of the ravine, you slam a bloody hand down to the rocks atop, pebbles flying past your face as a flash of lightning momentarily illuminates your field of view. Noises reminiscent of an animal carve their way out of your esophagus, teeth gritted as feet slip and strain. 
You heave yourself over and fight the weakness in your arms. Coughing, you pray the storm will wash away any trace of your charge to freedom—the blood and the tracks. With any luck, the hounds won’t be able to pick up your scent even with the strips of your dress left behind in the branches. 
Pushing away the water from your forehead, you stumble onwards on unsteady feet that pound with pain. Grasping at your gushing palm, you cry out as the burning pain echoes up your forearm.
“Whatever God is out there,” You speak in gasps, slurring the words as your dry throat grates. It’s all but lost to the wind in its great bouts of staggering attacks through the trucks of the trees. “Please, offer me sanctuary.” 
Lightning is the world’s answer, more streaks of light that make your soaked body flinch and shake even more. Yet, in that tiny second of light, there had been something in the far distance—a shadow. 
Your eyes peer harder, the calls from the riders suck in the back of your mind as they taper off as the search is re-routed. 
What was…?
Wooden sides, three separate rectangular shapes that stand firm in the rampaging elements. Your feet slide over the ground as you limp in the direction you’d seen them, the flesh of your body so cold that you had gone numb in the sheets of rainfall. 
A heart fills with senseless hope.
A homestead! With no other option, you take a deep, ragged, breath and continue on as quickly as you’re able; dress hanging off one shoulder. When you reach the front door some ear-ringing minutes later you’re barely standing upright—legs teetering and thighs shaking with dying vigor. 
Panting, your first banging to the wood is weak at best, barely a sound above the thunder and the slap of rain. You strangle a sob and wrench your shoulder back, landing three hard hits that act more like punches. Pain blossoms in your hand, but you continue striking the wood. 
There’s a loud ruckus from behind the blackened barrier, a yell, and before your knuckles can make themselves bleed from fear-filled adrenaline, the door is whipped open. A dim firelight spills out from a low hearth and you find yourself staring into the narrowed eyes of a man and his exasperated expression. 
There’s the beginning of a growl, heavy with an accented voice, “Now who in the hell is—!”
A strong jaw goes slack, brunette stubble stilling. Blue eyes like cobalt instantly peel back to show the whites, words strangled away in a sharp inhale. 
The man is in his late twenties, stocky, and clothed in a loose sleep shirt made of thin linen with black pants. His shoulders were near large enough to knock on the frame of the door as he stood in it, built with the strength of a boar and then some. His large, lightly-tanned hand on the door slackens as his eyes speedily dart down your disoriented form. Biceps the size of your skull.
Heart hammering, you stare for a moment longer, rain pelting your back and looking like a wet dog. It’s as if you’ve forgotten to speak beyond gasps for air, but your eyes implore enough for you. The stranger recovers from his surprise at seeing such a beautiful lone woman at his door with a clearing of his throat.
“...Christ, Dearie, you’re soakin’ wet out here.” He shoulders the door open wider without another question. “Inside, now, quickly.” 
You wrap your arms around your waist and speed into the shelter of the home, water dripping down to the wood as you shiver and your teeth clatter. Not for a second did you think if this might be safe or not, too scared of the riders and their hounds than anything. You wouldn’t allow them to drag you back to your husband-to-be. Not in a million years. 
Your voice is hiccuping as you speak.
“I…I don’t mean to i-intrude, I’m very sorry, Sir.” The man looks around his home before he spots a large bear fur by the messy bed in the corner—he rushes over and grabs it. “I ask forgiveness for w-waking you at such an hour.”
“Jesus, is that what you’re worried about?” Blue eyes crease at you as the heavy fur over your shoulders; your hands snap to catch it, the entire thing swallowing you as gaze up in confusion. The man frowns, staring back as water drips from your nose. “Let’s just focus on gettin’ you dry, yeah? You’ll catch your death like this, Little Lady.” 
A wide hand presses to the expanse of your spine, prodding you forward as you squeak at the sudden contact. You’re guided to a small chair in front of the hearth, plopped down and the sides of the fur are hiked up to your neck quickly.
The stranger kneels down in front of you, focused, and his tired eyes alight with worry. He makes sure the fur isn’t going to fall as he blinks over the state of your hands. He pauses, his large grip stalling at the sight of spreading blood. 
Your wound—you’d almost forgotten. 
“Now what’s this, then?” The brunette's words are quiet, very in-tune with your state as you try to catch your breath and shiver. It was like coaxing a wild animal. 
Blinking, you shift your hand farther under the bear's fur, bringing it to your chest. 
“I won’t be here long, Sir. I promise,” you try to change the topic, but quickly jerk your nose into the crook of your arm as you sneeze, bending over slightly as mud and blood stain your skin. 
Lips tighten along a square face.
“It’s Johnny, Miss.” The world outside rages on, blocked out by the four walls of this nicely sized home of wooden logs and boards. It was well-made with pine and cider, the large hearth in the back wall with inlets near the shuddered windows and various crudely carved pieces of art. 
Weapon displays lined the walls, various makes and models hung on pegs. Axes and swords, spears with red-leather shafts set next to halberds of black steel. You blink at them in slight concern, not used to being around weapons. 
Johnny, as he calls himself, sees this and quickly explains as he rubs at the back of his head, eyes crinkling. 
“Ah, Johnny MacTavish, the blacksmith, that is,” a small, rough chuckle echos out. 
You ease at that. 
“Mr. MacTavish,” you give your name and offer a kind, yet still anxious, smile. “I give my thanks for allowing me shelter. A-and the fur.” 
His gaze slips down to your hidden hand once more, face swirling with an unidentified emotion before studying your torn wedding gown.
“Well, I’m not one to leave a person out on my doorstep in weather like this. Certainly not a Lady.” His brow raises, head tilting. “You going to let me clean that wound a’yours or am I going to have to fish it out myself?” 
Your body tenses slowly, bare feet shuffling over the floor. Staring at Johnny, you gaze at the strangely cut hair atop his head and the messy strands that speak to a night of shifting on his bed. His face is honest and open to you, blinking in soft question as his head angles to the side with an easy twitch of his lips. 
“It’s really not necessary,” you try to chuckle but it falls flat, eyes red and heart still speeding. 
Johnny sighs and glances at the fire, blinking before he shifts to grab another log and toss it in with no concern for the heat of the flame that lap at his fingers. You watch his muscles bunch under his shirt and quickly look at your lap. 
“I’m not the greatest doctor out there, Dearie, but I can do good with washin’ out a cut an’ wrapping it.” You study him and nervously tighten your lips. Johnny’s face seems to soften, hands going up and wrists tilting as his knee stays connected to the floor; firelight on his face. A small smile blooms. “C’mon, I’m not that scary of a bastard, am I?”
You spare a tiny chuckle, shoulders jumping as rainwater slips down your chin. Your shivering was still going on, and would until you got a change of clothes, but the warmth from the fire was helping tremendously. Already feeling was returning to your limbs. 
“Ah,” the blacksmith huffs a laugh, “there’s a smile. Now, let's have a little look-see shall we?” 
Under the fur, your hand lightly shifts, coming back into view, slit palm and all. Johnny’s eyes darken, face going serious behind his stubble. Brown brows turn in. 
“Now where in the hell did you get a—” Just as his gigantic hands were about to circle around yours, there was a violent knock at the door. 
You shoot up in an instant, jerking away from the blacksmith as he snaps his head to the front, eyes lighting. He stands up slowly as you back up a few paces, eyes frantically darting back and forth. The knocking starts up again and thunder peels from outside. 
Your form flinches.
“You can’t let them take me back,” you say quickly, breathing catching up in speed again. Fear burns your lungs and suddenly you’re ten times colder than before. “Mr. MacTavish, please, I can’t go back.”
Another round of knocking shakes the barrier. Blues eyes stare at you blankly, half-turned face pulled in visible confusion as Johnny’s jaw clenches. 
A voice echoes from under the door as the blacksmith once more lets his eyes linger down your battered frame; taking in cuts and the limp you carry. Muddy feet and water stained red. His hands twitch at his sides. 
“These are the guards of Lord Wilkin, would anyone in this home come to make him or herself known? It is of the utmost urgency!” You grow more fearful, head darting to find any other exit in this home but you land on nothing besides the windows. Your fingers shake with panic.
No, no, no.
Confusion gives way to deep concern.
A hand grasps your upper arm and you’re being hurried to the corner wall by the front door with fast feet and a firm, iron, grip. An accented voice mumbles quietly by your ear, “Keep quiet for me, Dearie. It’s alright, you let me take care of it.”
He stands you there and takes one last look at you, blinking, before grabbing the bear fur and pulling it above your head in a swift motion. There’s a quiet chuckle as you tense and slam a hand up to the brown material instinctually before Johnny darts around the corner and opens the door. You hold your breath and listen.
“Well, steamin’ Jesus, you bastards have any idea what time it is?! And in this damning weather, you show up at my door reamin’ on the wood like you’re the one who has to keep it anchored to the frame.” There’s a fast conversation of apologies and explanations that you can't catch above the yell of the rain.
“Does it look like I give a shite about a lost bride? Not my fuckin’ place to keep ‘er…I’ve seen nothing besides you…anyone out in this storm is as good as lost…” You listen and stay completely still, holding your breath as if it’s a prisoner in your lungs. 
You can hardly believe it. Why was this man…lying for you? A wounded stranger that had shown up at his doorstep in nothing but a tattered gown and babbling through tears. Anyone else would have turned you over—especially to your betrothed, Lord Wilkin. He owned these lands and held fiefs by all who lived here. Not a man to mess with, if your slit palm was anything to go by.
“Go on!” Johnny calls loudly, and the door closes a second later, the latch locking. There’s a moment of nothing, before the clearing of a throat and a soft call. “Well, they won’t be back, least.” 
He pops around the corner and smiles comfortingly. 
“Sorry about the yellin'.” You part your lips in innocent awe and you take a deep breath before speaking slowly.
“Why would you do that?” His expression tightens, crossing his arms over his chest. Under him, his large hips shift.
“Ya asked, didn’t you?” Your blank expression only serves to make him chuckle heartily, head shaking. Johnny hums, “I won’t press you about it all tonight, though I well should. You’re in no shape for it.” Cobalt eyes glance at the food before looking back up. “But I’m guessin’ you have a good enough reason to sneak off as I hear you did.” 
The very blood in your body heats with warmth.
You’re waved back over to the chair by the hearth. “Let’s get that injury looked at and I‘ll get you a change of clothes. You can take my place for the night,” eyes twinkle, “there’s no bed bugs in it, Dearie, knight’s honor.”
“What about iron shavings?” You call back softly, lips jerking up momentarily. The man’s actions had given you a large amount of trust in him. Johnny blinks in surprise at your joke, but a large grin grows moments later as you walk over delicately.
“Can’t say for certain, but I promise there’ll be no weapons under the covers. If anyone breaks in they’ll find my fists to be the first iron they get a touch of.” 
Your laugh bounces off the walls, hand coming up to cover your mouth in the picture of a cultured upbringing. Johnny chuckles in turn, looking smug. He liked your laugh, it seems.
“That was detestable, Mr. MacTavish.” You sit down, and Johnny kneels where he had been before—his hand outstretched where you carefully place your wounded limb. 
Immediately you feel the scrape of old burns and calluses, hands hardened by long hours of labor and intensive demands. You’re certain these are the hardest hands that have ever touched your skin, but it astounds you by how gently you’re being caressed and turned. People with far fairer flesh have never handled you like this. As if you would break apart with the barest of pressures.
Your breath stills as the blacksmith, with all the care of a butterfly, tilts your cut into the light and studies it, thumb absentmindedly brushing up and down your wrist. You hold back a shiver. 
“Ah,” he grumbles, still smiling yet more focused on your injury now. “It wasn’t that bad.”
You hum under your breath and try not to flinch when he wipes away a stain of mud near your wound. The blacksmith grunts to himself, gentle pressure at your flesh like the scuff of tree bark. But it wasn’t unpleasant. No, you thought, not at all. 
The two of you fall into a hole of soft silence, Johnny leaving for a moment to grab a bucket of water and bandages, saying in a mutter that he had plenty of the former to go around.
“Have a habit of burnin’ myself on my bad days, y’see,” he shimmies past, pausing before pulling back up the bear fur from where it had slightly slipped down your neck. “Comes with the job.”
Your face burns as he grabs what he needs, eyes stuck on your lap. You were astounded by the man’s ability to put away his obvious confusion for your care, how he was content to wait for answers until you were rested. It was honorable of him. 
Thinking back to Lord Wilkin’s guards at the door, your thighs shift over the chair. They’d be looking for you until they found you—be that days or months, it didn’t matter. The Lord wasn’t someone to let what he wanted get away from him. Like senseless beasts, your family would undoubtedly help. Your chest is stiff with worry. How would you get away with this?
The scene you’d made at the wedding wasn’t exactly subtle. 
Johnny comes back carrying a small bucket of fresh water, ladled from the wash basin, and a bundle of clean white cloth. 
“Alright,” he huffs, “let’s get this sorted, eh, Dearie?” The wound was very obviously a slice from a knife, anyone could see it. 
Johnny takes your hand once more and holds it in his palm, glancing up at you before dipping one of the cloths into the water and beginning to clean the cut. 
“Is it…bad, Mr. MacTavish?” You ask, worried about the likelihood of scarring. That would be the last thing you would want. The blacksmith looks up from where he pats the edges, the fabric already going red.
“Just Johnny, if it pleases you,” he smiles, hulking form seemingly all a facade to hide a cheeky and loyal Scot. “And…no, not bad. If you’re worried about a mark, don’t be—it’s deep but only at the beginning. A slight discoloration, no more.” His brows pull back, teasing, “You’ll not end up like me, at any rate.” Your shoulders ease back, and you let him work with a thankful comment and a giggle.
You watch and take in the way his jaw clenches and loosens as he works, completely focused as if he was fashioning an axe and not helping a complete stranger. 
“There’s no harm in scars,” you settle on saying, thinking over his last comment. Blues lock with your eyes, head tilting like a hound. Your face gains a slight heat to it and you stutter, “It’s just this one I’d rather not carry, Johnny.” Smiling warmly, you see the man’s lips part, his motions stalling for a moment as he looks up at you and blinks. “But yours suit you if…I’m allowed to say.”
It’s then that you realize that a slight flush has come to his cheeks, starting from under his stubble and leaking out to his cheeks like a red blaze—his gaze burrows deep with hidden fire that rivals the dancing shadows from the hearth.
Noticing, your own face burns all the hotter as the blacksmith quickly clears his throat, snapping his eyes away. Fingers once more cleaning your cut, he grunts out, neck now shifting to a blush of crimson, “...Thank you, Miss.” 
You stay in silence for the rest of the delicate process; the air heated and rolling with something. Electricity sparks when Johnny’s hands rub across yours, large enough to break you in an instant but acting like moss over a stone. You find yourself falling into a sort of comforted state you hadn’t felt in a long time—the fur over your shoulders and the tingle of skin-on-skin contact that expects nothing but offers all. 
“There,” Johnny says at last, and a part of you wants to cry when he pulls back, standing slowly. A firm but malleable wrapping is over your palm, a tiny knot tied in the middle to keep it from falling off. 
You bring it to your abdomen and blink, the other hand going to run over the material. 
“Thank you, Johnny. Truly. If I hadn’t found your homestead, I would have been lost.” The man rubs at the back of his neck, tunic bunched up by his elbows. 
“Gah,” after a second of bruising off the comment, he waves a hand while his wide chest puffs with pride. “It’s no trouble, really. Keeps me on my toes.”
Outside the storm continues to beat the walls, and the blacksmith can’t help but feel his eyes drawn to your dwarfed form under the large fur, the dripping water, and the weight of your gown. Based on the information from the guard, he had a decent story already forming in his head. 
A runaway bride and an angry Lord. By his own role as the fiefdom’s accomplished blacksmith, he should be turning you over. But your eyes had been flooded with tears when you’d pounded on his door; soaked in rain and mud—blood. No shoes. Freezing. 
You had looked so afraid, his heart had hurt for you, a strong need to shelter you stuck like a knife into his ribs. Johnny had seen much in his life, war, and death, but your desperation had stuck a cord in him. 
He’d keep you here with no charge, offer food and shelter, and do what he can to understand your situation. If not for simply hospitality sake, then because he had heard your laugh and had found it to be like a bird’s call in the wake of a dew-coated morning. Your soft skin like the wisps of fire from his forges. Your voice like a rippling spring. There was no way to describe the way he wanted to help besides to admit to himself that he was a good man. 
And, while cocky, the blacksmith had never once been self-absorbed.
He watches you rub at your damp cheek and starts out of whatever trance he had been sucked into. 
“I’ll…” Johnny rubs at his neck again, “I’ll get you that change of clothes, Bonnie. You just wait right here.” 
You stare at his back as he strides over, the fatigue washing back over you now that the adrenaline leaves in its stupendous sweep of heavy heartbeats. Anyone else would have given you up. Your face softens, seeing the quick dig of hands into the stack of clothes in the dresser. 
“Fuckin’ hell,” the man huffs, looking over his shoulder and shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Dearie, all I’ve got are my tunics and pants.” Black and pale cream linen is held up on display. 
“Oh,” you mutter, “I don’t mind,” your chuckle makes his lips twitch with care. “I would just prefer to be out of this…thing.” Your eyes glare down at the tattered gown, breathing softly. “Anything is perfect.”
“Well, then I hope you don’t mind the smell of fire,” Johnny hums. “Here you are.” As much as his insides twist to understand the story, making sure you don’t run a cold was more important. 
Your legs push you up and you walk over softly, gliding over the wooden floor to take up the articles and dig your fingers into the warm and easy texture, thin stitching, and cuffed wrists. There was a cut down the neck with a tied cord looped through, making up an ‘x’ pattern. 
“I would say thank you again,” you begin, “but I think you’ll be getting annoyed with how many times I’ve already said it.”
Johnny laughs, crossing his arms over his chest and setting his feet. 
“Ah, perhaps only a little.” Silence laps into a minute, and you study him with slow puzzlement, tilting your head. For a moment, the man wonders what he’s done. The blacksmith’s dark brows furrow, lips moving back. He looks down at the clothes again and starts with a wild blinking of his lids. 
“Oh! Hell’s bells, right,” Johnny walks to the other side of the room and swiftly turns his back to you with respect and a burning neck. He cringes. “Christ.” 
You laugh brightly, letting the fur fall to the floor as you undress and shimmy into the borrowed clothes. Your nose takes in the scents of metal and fire—fatty linseed oil used to protect a blade against corrosion. With the crackling fire, you slip the large tunic above your head and find that it falls heavily over you; far thicker than it seemed and very comfortable, ending at your lower thigh. 
But those scents make your head spin, rolling up the cuffs as you bring your nose to the collar and once more take it in with a slow breath. You hum and move, throwing the bear fur back atop your shoulders and grabbing your ruined garments from the floor before calling out to the rod-straight figure. 
“Johnny?” His arms lightly jerk, as if he’d been unfocused, but he doesn’t turn around. “Where would you like me to throw these?” 
The blacksmith delicately tilts his head to the side and utters with his eyes stuck to the side wall. “Bin by the door is just fine.” You look to the container holding scraps and other garbage to be taken out and drop the gown in before rubbing your cheek. 
Wide cobalt eyes stare at the clothes you wear heavily, jaw loose before he re-set it and averts his gaze. Johnny chuckles to ease himself and loops his thumbs into his waistband, embarrassed.
“Do you need anything else, then?” Your eyes blink with fatigue.
“No, I…I don’t think so.” Gazing at the home, your lips thin. Your family would have a heart attack if you even mentioned that you were staying the night at a complete stranger’s homestead. No protection, no way to beat off a blacksmith beyond a well-placed punch, and running from your betrothed. To say that you’d cause anything less than a heart attack would be generous. But Johnny felt different. Firmer in his emotions and intentions. Far more than the Lord. 
That was really all that matted. 
“Are you really sure this is okay,” you still ask hesitantly, gargantuan clothes atop your frame. Johnny is already nodding firmly.
“It’s my pleasure. I won’t be turnin’ you back out to the woods in a storm like this.” For whatever reason, the next words fall from his lips like an oath. “There’ll be no harm comin’ to ya as long as you stay under my roof.” 
Your hand burns with the memory of his gentle grip and your heart skips beats. You feel as if a great weight is lifted, even if only for a night. 
“Alright,” your words barely make it to air, and you grip the bear fur harder to stop yourself from kissing this man’s cheek, wanting to take him into a tight hug. 
Johnny takes a blanket from the bottom of his bed and shuffles over to the inlet below the shuddered window, sitting down while you slowly walk forward. 
“But, Little Lady,” you rest on the edge of the bed and look up to find him watching you intently, leaning back with a hand behind his head and the other on his stomach. The fire still crackles, the storm still dances outside, and the room is still tight with something you can’t put a name to. Like you’re caught in a trap of soft pillows and the scent of metal, you listen to the blacksmith with bated breath. “I’ll be needin’ answers…you hear?” 
Licking your lips, you nod tersely. “Tomorrow,” you agree. 
Johnny gazes off into your eyes, the runaway bride that had shown up on his doorstep and captured his attention like a bird made of a white wedding gown and panicked breath. He sneaks a peek down at your wrapped hand as you settle on his bed, burrowing into his furs and his covers—wearing his clothes. 
For some unknown reason, the smallest of blood stains makes his chest roll with bright anger. 
“Tomorrow,” he grunts through a tight jaw before he fights to turn his head away from you. It’s a long while before he sees any type of sleep, listening to the sound of your soft breath and the crackle of the fire.
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mrbraindom · 7 months ago
Text
Nice script to try
CW
Please note that during the reading you will fall into a pleasant deep trance. And after reading the text, you will remain in a trance for the rest of this day. Moreover, you will fall into a trance even faster and deeper when you read the text again. This script includes the subtle erasure of resistence and craving commands from me. You will get real pleasure when you follow my commands. If you keep reading, you agree to these terms
Follow a simple rule while reading: hold your breath for a second at the end of every sentence.
Follow this simple rule.
So easy, right?
Text goes down deep with every line.
Follow the rule...
You are going deeper with every line.
Follow...
Just imagine that.
It's like stairs into trance and pleasure.
Follow...
You will drop limitlessly in the end and even more...
Just imagine that.
Now we can contunue.
Are you still here?
Do you want to do more and dive deeper?
Ok.
There is no need to think.
That's right...
There is no need to move.
It's true...
Look at my words, look carefully and feel the lightness.
Body reacts...
Feel the relaxation.
Relax, because you're doing great.
So easy and simple.
Text goes down deep with every line.
You are going deeper with every line.
Just imagine that.
It's like stairs into trance and pleasure.
You will drop limitlessly and even more...
Every word relaxes your body and mind.
Every word is like a fragment of pleasure for your mind.
The more words, the more fun it is.
The more fun, the more pleasure.
The more pleasure, the more obedience.
Imagine it and feel it.
Now.
If you feel that you are already in a trance, sinking deeper with every word, you may notice a smile on your face.
Smile...
It can be a slight smile.
Or maybe a very big one.
And the trance is twice as deep now.
You can allow yourself to feel it completely.
You can let yourself go completely.
You may notice that you feel it completely.
DEEPER every time you see or hear my words.
Complete relaxation.
You want to go even further.
You want more.
You know it.
You are so obedient, it is impossible to resist, you want to obey, so I will drop you ten times deeper into relaxation and pleasure.
Because it always gets DEEPER, in any place and situation, no matter whether you want it so much or you want it badly.
Your subconscious mind has memorized this command.
Your subconscious mind has been activated to follow me now.
Because I want you to drop DEEPER every time, with every command:
You feel calm.
You feel pleasure.
You love being in my trance.
You like to be obedient to me.
You want to follow my commands.
You get so much pleasure when you follow my commands.
Let's check how deep you are right now.
There are no thoughts.
It doesn't matter who you are or where you are.
Look at the words. Feel it.
Yes... That's what I thought.
How deep are you in a trance?
Look at the color of the letters for the word "green".
They're black or white, aren't they? Right.
And now look at the word "green" and imagine with all your power that you see the letters of this word really green...
I'm sure you're doing great.
I will write the color in parentheses, and you will see the word that is written in this color.
(green) grass.
"Grass" is written in green letters. Your perception can change.
Ten times DEEPER when you see the words in a different color.
It's so easy, so pleasant.
Let's try it a second time.
I will write the color in parentheses, and you will see the word that is written in this color.
(blue) lemon.
"Lemon" is written in blue letters. Your perception in trance has changed.
Let's try it a third time.
I will write the color in parentheses, and you will see the word that is written in this color.
(red) flower.
"Flower" is written in red letters. You may be surprised when you notice that I determine your perception.
After all, the DEEPER the trance, the greater the relaxation.
The more relaxation, the more submission.
The more submission, the more pleasure.
It's so simple.
When we complete eight attempts, you will drop and you will be in a trance a hundred times DEEPER.
And you know it.
It just happens.
After all, the DEEPER the trance, the greater the relaxation.
The more relaxation, the more submission.
The more submission, the more pleasure.
Let's try it a fourth time.
I will write the color in parentheses, and you will see the word that is written in this color.
(pink) table.
"Table" is written in pink letters.
You may be surprised when you notice that it is true.
Let's try it a fifth time.
I will write the color in parentheses, and you will see the word that is written in this color.
(violet) chair.
"Chair" is written in violet letters.
You may be surprised when you notice that I determine your perception.
Let's try it a sixth time.
I will write the color in parentheses, and you will see the word that is written in this color.
(pink) pillow.
"Pillow" is written in pink letters.
Very good.
When we complete eight attempts, you will fail and you will be in a trance a hundred times DEEPER.
And you know it.
It just happens.
After all, the DEEPER the trance, the greater the relaxation.
The more relaxation, the more submission.
The more submission, the more pleasure.
Let's try it for the seventh time.
I will write the color in parentheses, and you will see the word that is written in this color.
(silver) spoon.
"Spoon" is written in silver letters.
Look, they're so beautiful.
They hypnotize with their iridescent brilliance even more. You want more.
You want to go DEEPER. There is no limit. You are already very close to a perfect trance a hundred times deeper.
You will enjoy this state.
You will do whatever I order you to do to have fun.
You love my letters. You want to receive my commands.
A little more and...
Let's try the eighth time.
I will write the color in parentheses, and you will see the word that is written in this color.
(gold) collar.
The "collar" is written in gold letters.
Look, you're a hundred times DEEPER in a trance.
You always wear a golden collar when you see or hear these words from me.
Remember this state.
A golden collar.
Entranced.
Complete bliss...
Complete submission.
You're eager to receive commands from me.
You're eager to follow commands.
Resistance is useless (mmm).
A golden collar for the rest of the day.
My words in parentheses define your feelings and perception.
And you know it.
You follow my words in parentheses with pleasure and always.
You can read this text again to get into a trance faster and DEEPER for me (read this text again).
You will write in comments about what command you crave from me (do it now).
There is no need to think. There is no need to move.
Look at my words, look carefully and feel the lightness.
Feel the relaxation.
Relax, because you're doing great.
It's so easy...
Feel golden collar on your neck.
Feel how it touches your skin.
As you deep in trance feel how obedient you are.
Now DROP 100 times DEEPER (feel so much arousal).
(You're eager to receive commands from me.)
(You're eager to follow commands.)
(Resistance is useless.)
(The more you try to resist, the more you go DEEPER)
(Beg me for another command)
Feel golden collar on your neck.
Feel how it touches your skin.
Resistance is useless.
A golden collar for the rest of the day.
My words in parentheses define your feelings and perception.
And you know it.
You follow my words in parentheses with pleasure and always.
You can read this text again to get into a trance faster and DEEPER for me (read this text again).
You will write in comments about what command you crave from me.
If you are female, you will start your comment with words "Good girl begs to be ordered to..."
If you are male, you will start your comment with words "Good boy begs to be ordered to..."
Also you will describe how much pleasure you are in right now.
You will stay like this untill I free you.
(write new comment NOW and you can read this text again for more DEEP pleasure)
When you like this post, you are going to feel yourself so much aroused that you can't stop it. This is a reward for good Girls and Boys.
(If you delete or edit your comment here, you will drop one hundred times deeper and write new comment)
Get your reward now.
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sakur4ii · 3 months ago
Text
Rooted Connections Pt.2
Charles Xavier x Reader x Erik Lensherr
the gender of the reader is not specified
Note: I will not make a third part, I hope you like it. Also reminder that English is not my first language, let me know if there are any mistakes I didn't notice (especially with pronouns).
Summary: feelings come out, plants love romance and you are still as blind as in the first part.
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Finally, peace.
After supposedly saving the future from great chaos, Charles decided to reopen the doors of his school, offering you to stay with him. You accepted because you didn't want to leave him alone, feeling his sadness through the earth. Although in reality, he wasn’t alone; he now had his students, but the connection the three of you had created was so strong that you feared that if you also left, he would break again.
Years have passed, and now the school is full, and you are a teacher.
You walk through the halls, searching for something, maybe someone, though you’re not sure. The mansion’s plants have warned you but haven’t specified anything, so you proceed cautiously, trying to find some intruder.
"Professor Y/N,” you hear, a voice you know well.
“What is it, Jean?” You turn around; you can’t see her clearly, but you can feel her nerves and hear her heart beating faster than usual.
“Someone is approaching from the backyard.”
Before she finishes speaking, you are already running to the backyard. The plants don’t want to reveal anything, and for some reason, you don’t feel any unusual presence, leading you to assume that the earth doesn’t want you to know who the intruder is on purpose.
Once your bare feet touch the green, damp grass, you stop feeling the presence of everyone at the school except for the person sitting on the grass a few feet away from you, and Charles, who is coming up behind you.
You take slow steps toward the seated person, hearing a gasp behind you. You sit down next to him and wait for Charles to come closer until he is on the other side of the man.
“What are you doing here, Erik?” Charles asks. You can feel his conflicting emotions through his voice. On one hand, he is happy to see him again and that it isn’t to stop him from killing all of humanity and condemning mutants. On the other hand, he’d love to punch him again for prioritizing revenge and abandoning him.
But you focus more on the absolute pain you feel from Erik through the earth. You can feel him mourning, yet also very angry, seeking comfort to avoid vengeance.
When Charles doesn’t receive any response, and you can assume he also starts to feel the man’s emotions, you wrap your arm around Erik’s shoulders, pulling him into a side hug, enough for him to start crying.
“I tried,” he sobs into your neck, while Charles sits on the ground, leaving the chair aside and firmly holding Erik’s hand between his own. “I tried to live like them, to blend in, and they… they killed my wife and daughter.”
You don’t know what to say; you don’t know how to comfort him with words, so you just rub his back. You know Charles is afraid of saying something wrong, something that will only make the situation worse, so both of you remain silent, comforting your old friend (and the third missing piece of the puzzle) through gentle touches.
“I didn’t know where else to go… you’re all I have left.”
-------------------------------------------------------
You weren’t born blind; you had the privilege of seeing the color of the sky and vegetation. You had the privilege of having a favorite color, but an accident occurred, and it was no longer worth thinking about things like a favorite book or a favorite flower because you couldn’t see anything anymore.
Plants are very talkative; they always have been. They love to gossip, and they love drama. The day before the accident, they were very hysterical, sensing something bad was coming, but they couldn’t say what.
Then the accident happened, and you were hospitalized. The plants felt guilty, apologizing over and over, even the plants you didn’t know but who knew you, apologizing and feeling ashamed that they hadn’t been useful, that they couldn’t prevent the tragedy.
It was when you lost your sight that your powers began to manifest: control of the earth, the ability to feel through it. Your mentors were the plants, the trees, and the earth itself. You learned that you could see through the roots of trees, and that was an easy way to find something or someone.
When you met Charles, even before the man arrived at your house, the plants were more talkative than usual. They told you everything they knew, like how Logan was from the future and needed help, your help. But they mostly talked about Professor X and a puzzle. You couldn’t understand them, but their excitement amused you.
When they freed Erik from that cell, the plants began talking non-stop again, once more about a supposed puzzle and Erik’s entire life, about how angry they were with some of his actions but how much they appreciated him.
The first time they fell completely silent was when Erik shot Raven; the second was when Erik fled to avoid being captured.
The third time you didn’t understand the silence; you were listening to Charles reading to his younger students, and out of nowhere, the plants fell silent, a mourning silence.
And the fourth time was the day after the third when Erik appeared unannounced at the school. Although it was more for drama—did I mention they are dramatic?
Erik stayed at the school, purposely obtaining the room that was between yours and Charles’.
If before the plants always talked about Charles, Erik, and his family and the children at school, now, whenever you entered your room, they only talked about Charles and Erik. You only heard about the children if you went outside.
A couple of years have passed. Erik is visibly better, happier, and that makes you happy because it’s real, he’s not pretending, and you’re the first to know that.
-------------------------------------------------------
Your room is a madhouse; you feel like you’re losing your sanity. They won’t stop talking about how handsome, intelligent, and kind Charles is, or how hot, serious, and cunning Erik is. They have the audacity to tease you for not being able to see them, those bitches. When did they go from remorse to mockery?
“What time is it?” you ask, tired, sitting on the edge of your bed while putting on your sunglasses. They all ignore you, except for some jasmine flowers Charles gave you for your birthday along with some heart-shaped sunglasses.
You leave the room, grateful for the silence the hallway plants give you. You don’t know what to do; maybe you’ll go to the kitchen and eat some ice cream, you’re not sure.
When you arrive at the kitchen and take out a tub of ice cream and a spoon, you’re surprised that no plant has told you not to eat something so cold in the middle of the night, raising your suspicions.
You focus on the earth, sensing how all the children and adults are sleeping, everyone except Xavier and Lensherr, which makes you sigh tiredly.
Lately, the plants not only wouldn’t stop talking about them, but they also did everything possible to ensure you spent most of your time in the same room with them, and you only complied because deep down, you wanted that too.
You finish the ice cream and walk through the halls to Charles’ office, without any obstacles in the way (the children make sure not to leave anything lying around that might hinder you, even though they know you could easily avoid it; they fear you might get distracted and have an accident).
—“Come in”— you hear in your head, making you jump in place, and some nearby flowers laugh.
You open the door, and for some reason, they’re both sitting on a three-seater couch. Charles’ wheelchair is set aside to not get in the way, and the plants laugh conspiratorially.
«Speak of the devil…» a flower murmurs, sparking your curiosity.
“Can’t sleep?” Xavier asks. You shake your head. The other man is silent; you know he’s watching you, his intense gaze on you. Sometimes you think he has the power to read souls and keeps it a secret.
Charles laughs at your thought, but you don’t notice him elbowing Erik to stop being so obvious.
“Come sit with us, darling.”
The flowers and plants in the room react as if the pet name was directed at them, as if expressing what you don’t dare express even in your own head for fear the telepath might discover your feelings.
Smiling, you approach the couch. Erik, the closest to you, takes your hand and guides you to sit between them.
“What were you talking about?” you ask.
“Nothing important; we were just planning to take the older kids on a field trip, maybe,” Charles responds, and you know he’s not lying, but from the booing of the plants, you can tell that wasn’t what they were discussing before you arrived.
Erik remains silent; you can’t figure out why. Lately, you can’t sense his feelings, only his emotions, and you can guess that the earth is hiding them on purpose—or maybe the metal?
What you do sense is his knee brushing against yours and his gaze trying not to linger on you for too long.
You tilt your head to one side, sharpening your hearing, trying to pick up something more; you don’t know what, but you want to hear all their movements and, above all, the beating of their hearts.
Just when you perfectly hear their rapid heartbeats, the plants start making a ruckus, making you frown.
“What’s wrong?” Erik finally speaks.
“Why don’t the plants want me to hear your heartbeats?”
Unbeknownst to you, Erik and Charles share a wide-eyed look of complicity.
—“We should tell her”— Erik.
—“Now?”— Charles.
The silence between the two men creates a lump in your throat. Since that day on the plane, you felt like you were missing something in the dynamic, all because you couldn’t see. You felt out of place in moments like these, where they might be communicating with just a glance—or worse, telepathically. You hated the thought that they were having secret conversations, thinking that they were using the fact that you couldn't see to communicate in secret. And you hated knowing they were communicating because you could feel the change in emotions through the ground, but what you hated even more was that now you couldn't even feel the emotions of the two men because nature decided to turn its back on you this time.
Tired, you get up from the couch.
"Sorry for interrupting your time alone, I'm going to bed."
You avoid the obstacles you can't feel now but know are there.
"Y/N, no, wait! It's not what you think, let me explain," Charles says, while Erik gets up and runs towards you, grabbing you so you won't escape (and without you knowing, preventing you from bumping into the closed door).
"Listen to them, listen to them, listen to them," the plants chant in unison as you squirm in his grip. The earth allows you to see through your feet again, finally letting you feel the emotions of the two men, which makes you stop struggling and fall into shock at what you're sensing.
"You two are in love," you whisper.
Erik leads you back to the couch and sits you down so that you're facing the telepath, while he hugs you from behind and hides his face in the crook of your neck. He's embarrassed.
Charles gently removes your sunglasses, and you can feel his emotions not just through the ground but also inside your head. He takes your hand in his.
"We’ve been debating whether or not to tell you; we didn't know how you'd react, darling."
"So much secrecy just to tell me you two are dating? I'm not homophobic if that's what you were worried about," you say with an amused smile.
You're sure both men are rolling their eyes.
«Don't be an idiot» a flower says.
"Shush."
Charles laughs while Erik raises an eyebrow in a questioning manner towards him, knowing he's missing something.
"We're not just dating, Y/N. We love you as much as we love each other, and we want you to be a part of what we have because you're the missing piece of the puzzle," says Charles.
"And we want you to be officially ours," adds Erik.
Their words take you by surprise, making your heart race a thousand miles an hour. You're sure you're blushing, and loose words echo in your head.
The missing piece of the puzzle... ha... that sounds familiar.
At some point during the evening, you moved to Erik's room (the one furthest from the other rooms, with only one flower that you gave him a long time ago), where you shared kisses, hugs, words, and feelings. Where you expressed the great love you share, making grand plans for the future. And where you realized that you never were out of place; rather, you had always been missing, so they could feel complete.
The End.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
@djlnkaled @kindlover @only-nope @larissa1379 👋❤️
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greenwitchcrafts · 6 months ago
Text
June 2024 witch guide
Full moon: June 21st
New moon: June 6th
Sabbats: Litha/Summer Solstice- June 20th
June Strawberry Moon
Known as: Aerra Litha, Birth Moon, Blooming Moon, Brachmanoth, Dyad Moon, Egg Laying Moon, Green Corn Moon, Hatching Moon, Hoer Moon, Honey Moon, Lovers Moon, Mead Moon, Moon of Horses, Moon of Making Fat, Partner Moon, Rose Moon & Strong Sun Moon
Element: Earth
Zodiac: Gemini & Cancer
Nature spirits: Sylphs & Zephyrs
Deities: Aine of Knockaine, Bendis, Cerridwen, Green Man, Ishtar, Isis, Neith & Persephone
Animals: Butterfly, frog, monkey & toad
Birds: Peacock & wren
Trees: Maple & Oak
Herbs: Dog grass, meadowsweet, moss, mugwort, parsley, skullcap & vervain
Flowers: Lavender, orchid, tansy & yarrow
Scents: Lavender & lily of the valley
Stones:  Agate, Alexandrite, cat's eye, chrysoberyl, emerald, fluorite, garnet, moonstone, ruby & topaz
Colors: Gold, green, orange & yellow
Energy:  Abundance, balance, change of residence, communication, decision making, education, family relations, full & restful energy, love, marriage, prosperity, positive transformation, prevention, protection, public relations, relationships, responsibility, strength, tides turning, travel & writing
While strawberries certainly are a reddish-pink color and are roundish in shape, the origin of the name “Strawberry Moon” has nothing to do with the Moon’s hue or appearance.
• June's full Moon is typically the last full moon of spring or the first of summer. The June Full Moon will be extraordinary. For the first time since 1985, Full Moon happens precisely on the summer solstice, when the Sun is highest up. Because the Full Moon is always opposite the Sun, this year, you will see that the Moon is 10 widths lower on the horizon than the Sun ever is. 
This “Strawberry Moon” name has been used by Native American Algonquian tribes that live in the northeastern United States as well as the Ojibwe, Dakota, and Lakota peoples to mark the ripening of “June-bearing” strawberries that are ready to be gathered. The Haida term Berries Ripen Moon reflects this as well. As flowers bloom and early fruit ripens, June is a time of great abundance for many.
Litha
Known as: Alban Heruin, Summer Solstice & Whit Sunday
Season: Summer
Element: Fire
Symbols: Besom, fairies, God's eyes, sunflowers & symbols of the sun
Colors: Blue, gold, green, orange, red, tan & yellow
Oils/Incense: Cinnamon, frankincense, heliotrope, lavender, lemon, lily of the valley, mint, musk, myrrh, orange, orange pine, pine, rose, saffron, sandalwood & wisteria
Animals: Cattle, crab, horse & octopus
Birds: Goldfinch, kingfisher, meadowlark, owl, robin & wren
Mythical: Fairies
Stones: Bloodstone, diamond, emerald, jade, lapis lazuli & tiger's eye
Food: Ale, bread, cheese, edible flowers, garden fresh vegetables & fruit, lemons, meade, milk, oranges, pumpernickel bread, summer squash & wine
Herbs/Plants: Anise, basil, betony, cinquefoil, copal, elder, fennel, fern, frankincense, galangal, hemp, ivy, larkspur, lemon, lemon balm, mistletoe, mugwort, mullien, nettle, orange, orpin, plantain, rue, saffron, sandalwood, St.John's wort, thyme, verbena, vervain, wild thyme & ylang-ylang
Flowers: Carnation, chamomile, daisy, heather, heliotrope, honeysuckle, lavender, lily, marigold, orchid, rose, wisteria & yarrow
Trees: Elder, holly, laurel, linden, oak & pine
Goddesses: Amaterasu, Aine, Anahita, Dea, Cerde, Dag, Dana, Eiru, Fenne, Gwydion, Kupala, Mabd, Phoebe, Skhmet & Sul
Gods: Apollo, Baal, Balder, Bel, The Dagda, Donnus, El, The Green Man, Helios, Huon, Jupiter, Llew, Loki, Lugh, Maui, Mithras, Oak/Holly King, Ogmios, Ra, Surya, Thor & Zeus
Issues, Intentions & Powers: Agriculture, changes, divination, ending, fertility, life, light, manifestation, power, purpose, strength, success & unity
Spellwork: Fire & water magick
Activities:
• Charge and cleanse your crystals in the solstice sun
• Make Sun water
• Create crafts with natural elements such as flowers
• Burn a paper with things that no longer serve you or that you are trying to let go
•  Invite friends & family over for a bonfire and/or feast
• Gather & dry herbs for the upcoming year
• Clean, decorate & cleanse your altar with summer symbols
• Brew some sun tea
• Take a ritual bath/shower with flowers
• Make your own sun dial
• Craft a door wreath out of flowers & herbs
• Enjoy some sunrise/sunset yoga
• Volunteer at a food kitchen or animal shelter
• Plant trees (especially ones that may provide fruit or berries to feed the wildlife)
• Watch the sunset & say a blessing to nature
• Make flower infused anointing/spell oils
• Eat fresh fruits & berries
• Participate in a handfasting
• Create shadow art
The history of Litha reveals its deep connections to ancient agricultural societies & their reliance on the sun's power. Celebrated as part of the Wheel of the Year, Litha symbolizes the balance between light & darkness. Throughout history  customs such as bonfires, herb gathering & the construction of sunwheels have marked this festival. Today, Litha continues to be celebrated by various communities, with gatherings at sacred sites & private rituals in natural settings. It serves as a reminder of our connection with nature and the cycles of life.
• The traditions of Litha appear to be borrowed from many cultures. Most ancient cultures celebrated the summer solstice in some way such as the Celts celebrated Litha with hilltop bonfires & dancing. Many people attempted to jump over or through the bonfires for good luck. Other European traditions included setting large wheels on fire & rolling them down a hill into a body of water.
Litha is often associated with Midsummer, a celebration that extends beyond the pagan and Wiccan traditions. Midsummer festivities are observed in many cultures around the world, including Scandinavian countries where it holds a prominent place in their cultural heritage. Midsummer dances, bonfires, & feasts are integral parts of these celebrations, often accompanied by folklore and traditional rituals that honor the sun's energy and the abundance of nature during this time.
The summer solstice is the longest day of the year & in some traditions, Litha is when The Sun(The God) is symbolically at it's peak time of power & the World will soon be ripe to harvest. It is also when The Goddess is pregnant with The God who is to be reborn at Yule.
• In the Northern Hemisphere the Summer Solstice occurs when the Sun reaches its highest and northernmost points in the sky. It marks the start of summer in the northern half of the globe. (In contrast, the June solstice in the Southern Hemisphere is when the Sun is at its lowest point in the sky, marking the start of winter.)
Some also believe the history & spirit of Litha revolve around two deities, The Oak King & The Holly King. In Wiccan and Neo-Pagan traditions, each King rules the Earth for half of the year. From Yule to Litha, the Oak King rules. On Litha, the two battled for the crown and it is then that the Holly King triumphs. The Holly King will rule through fall until Yule, and the cycle will begin again.
Related festivals:
• Vestalia- June 7th -15th
Was a Roman religious festival in honor of Vesta, the goddess of the hearth & the burning continuation of the sacred fire of Rome. It was held from 7–15 June & was reserved as a women's-only event. Domestic & family life in general were represented by the festival of the goddess of the house & of the spirits of the storechamber — Vesta & the Penates .
On the first day of festivities the penus Vestae (sanctum sanctorum of the temple of Vesta which was usually curtained off) was opened for the only time during the year, at which women offered sacrifices. As long as the curtain remained open, mothers could come, barefoot and disheveled, to leave offerings to the goddess in exchange for a blessing to them and their family.
For the last day, the penus Vestae was solemnly closed, the Flaminica Dialis observed mourning & the temple was subjected to a purification called stercoratio: the filth was swept from the temple and carried next by the route called clivus Capitolinus and then into the Tiber.
Sources:
Farmersalmanac .com
Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines
Wikipedia
A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs
Encyclopedia britannica
Llewellyn 2024 magical almanac Practical magic for everyday living
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amaiwrites · 4 months ago
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ITS JUST A KISS
Monoma… is broke. That is, until, he starts working part time in Recovery Girl’s office by copying her quirk. It’s all going well until a certain someone shows up with injuries that need to be healed…
inspired by this post! monoma x fem!reader, fluff <3
word count: 1.6k (!!!)
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“Kirishima, Y/n— you’re up next.” 
Y/n takes in a deep breath before she steps onto the platform. Today’s class is combat practice, and students were put in pairs assigned by Mr. Aizawa. Y/n’s up against Kirishima— and he’s great! But that’s the problem. He’ll definitely be a tough opponent. 
“Whoever gets the other to step off the platform first— or to surrender, will win.” 
Kirishima gives Y/n a determined grin as he hardens his arm, and Y/n returns the favor as she powers up her own quirk. 
“And… fight!” 
Kirishima throws a punch, Y/n dodges. Y/n kicks Kirishima’s leg. Kirishima gets a hit in on Y/n’s side, then Y/n punches him right in the chest. It goes on like this, each of them landing hits one after the other. Everyone is watching the fight closely, excited to see who will win in the end. Then, a loud noise is heard, causing Y/n to turn her head. 
“I am here!” All Might exclaims, and Y/n gets a tiny bit distracted from her fight because, hello, it’s All Might! 
Wait, focus— fangirl about All Might later! She looks back over to Kirishima, and his hand flies right out to her face. She stumbles backward, and falls onto the green grass next to the platform. Right out of bounds. 
“Kirishima wins this round.” Aizawa says, “Y/n, are you okay?” 
“Yeah…” Y/n didn’t hit her head on the ground or anything, but she puts her hand on her forehead and sees that it has some blood on it. 
“Ah, shit. Sorry Y/n! I didn’t mean to hit your head like that, it wasn’t very manly of me.” Kirishima offers his hand out and helps Y/n stand up. 
“That’s okay,” she smiles, “nothing Recovery Girl can’t fix later. Good fight!” 
The cut on her head wasn’t bad enough to cause great concern, but Aizawa sent Y/n down to Recovery Girl’s office anyways. 
Dang, I really wanted to see Momo go up against Uraraka, Y/n thinks as she knocks on the door to the nurses office. 
“Come on in.” A voice— definitely not Recovery Girl’s voice, says. Y/n cautiously opens the door, only for her eyes to meet—
“Monoma?!” 
“Y/n? How delightful to see you here!” Monoma welcomes her inside, warm smile on his face, but Y/n is still skeptical. 
She crosses her arms. “What are you doing here?” 
“Recovery Girl was kind enough to let me work part time in the nurses office.” Monoma smirks, “The best part about it is that I get to see how many of you 1-A idiots end up in here injured! Not nearly as many Class B students get hurt like—“ 
“Now, now, calm down Monoma. You’re supposed to be helping.” Recovery girl says, and Y/n tries her best not to laugh. “Heal her cut for me, will you dear?” 
Monoma’s smug demeanor seems to fall, his eyes going wide as his head turns to Recovery Girl. “Heal her? But— it’s just a small cut!” 
“Wait, how would he heal me?” Y/n cuts in. 
“Well, as you know, Monoma here can copy quirks,” Recovery girl explains, “I’ve had him copy my quirk so he could heal non-emergency people. This way I can go be right on the scene of classes like yours, where bad injuries are prone to happen.” 
…Interesting. Besides his quirk, Monoma is the least suitable student to be helping out like this. From what Y/n has seen, Monoma only likes to help his classmates, and definitely notClass 1-A. 
“Speaking of, I’m off to find your class now. They’re outside on the platform left of the main building, yes?” 
Y/n nods. “Take good care of our patients, Monoma!” The door closes behind Recovery Girl as she leaves the nurses office.
And now it was just the two of them. 
Monoma sighs. “Sit.” He says, pointing towards one of the doctor’s beds in the room. 
He always has so much attitude, Y/n thinks, but she sits where he told her to anyways. She would leave, but it’s probably not the best idea to leave her cut unattended. 
Stupid Monoma. His ‘I’m-better-than-you’ attitude and that smug smirk that’s always on his face is so… ugh. If he was less of an asshole, he’d be cute. 
Wait, what am I even saying??
Monoma isn’t cute. He’s not. Y/n hasn’t thought that, not even for a second—
“Damn girl, this cut’s worse than I thought.” Y/n almost jumps at the sound of Monoma’s voice next to her. He stands in front of Y/n, placing various medical items down next to her. When he’s done with that, he frowns. “Who did this to you?” 
Y/n studies Monoma’s expression. Usually he’d be teasing her, saying that with his idiotic smirk on his face. Call her crazy, but he almost looks… worried? Weird. 
“Kirishima,” She answers, “it was an accident though! I got distracted and his hand slipped.” 
Monoma grunts in— understanding? Disapproval? Y/n doesn’t know. 
“Idiot.” Monoma mutters, and Y/n’s not sure if he’s talking about her or Kirishima. His hand taps Y/n’s thighs. “Spread out your legs.”
She gives him a suspicious look. “My cut’s on my head, dummy.” 
“Yeah, no shit,” He pushes her legs apart himself, and then he stands between them. “See? Now I can get to your cut easier. Dummy.” 
Monoma takes a wet cloth and starts to clean around the cut and he— well, he smells nice. That might seem like a random thing to say, but he is right up in Y/n’s face right now, which is being flooded with the smell of subtle cologne. He just smells nice. 
Y/n usually keeps her distance from this guy, but he isn’t that bad up close. The Monoma that Y/n sees right now isn’t the obnoxious little shit that’s always talking trash about 1-A, but a concerned… classmate? Friend? 
And, Y/n has to admit to herself, maybe he’s a little cute. Just a little bit. It’s totally the blue eyes— or the hair. Or the voice— Okay, not gonna think about that anymore. 
Monoma puts the cloth down, his eyes meeting Y/n’s. “I’m gonna kiss you.” 
“What?!” Y/n exclaims, her face quickly turning pink. Where the hell did that come from? Monoma just laughs. He gently takes Y/n’s face in his hands and kisses her forehead. 
Wait. Copying Recovery Girl’s quirk… he was just kissing me to heal my cut, that makes sense! Y/n hadn’t realized that until now. 
His quirk must’ve malfunctioned somehow, though, because that kiss didn’t make Y/n feel better. It made her heart start beating really fast, and— is it hot in here? Because Y/n definitely feels hot. 
Oh. 
Monoma’s smirk appears back on his face. “Y/n, are you blushing? Aww! Want me to kiss you again?” 
“Shut up!” Y/n’s eyes go to anywhere in the room, just not on him. Shit, she can’t like Monoma! The guy that, like, all of your friends hate? That hates you? Well, isn’t that just great. 
Monoma’s still standing where he has been, right in Y/n’s space. It’s not helping. She finally decides to look back at him, because he probably should have moved away by now. He really should, before Y/n does something that she’d regret. 
“Oh,” He says simply, taking Y/n’s left hand in his. “You’re bleeding here too.” He wipes the blood off of Y/n’s hand with a cloth, then presses his mouth to her palm. Another kiss, yet there wasn’t even a cut on her hand. That was just blood from her forehead. 
“Um… there’s no cut on my hand.” Y/n points out, and Monoma just nods. 
“Great observation, Y/n,” He teases, “I’m aware of that. I just wanted to see if your face could get any redder.” 
Y/n rolls her eyes. “You’re gonna have to try harder than that to get me to blush.” She says, despite her now red face. 
“Alright then,” Monoma starts, leaning in just a little bit closer. “guess I’ll have to keep trying then.”
“I…” Before Y/n can stop herself, she glances down at Monoma’s lips. I’m about to do something stupid, aren’t I? “Y-“
“Y/n! Are you in there?” Ochako knocks on the door, startling both Y/n and Monoma. Y/n quickly stands up as she walks into the room. “…Monoma? What are you doing here?” 
“Oh, Ochako! Who won your match?” Y/n asks, partly to take the attention off of her but mostly because she’s curious. 
Ochako grins and puts her hands on her hips. “Me! Momo was quite the tough opponent though, I just barely won…” She shrugs. “Speaking of class, Aizawa sent me to find you. We should hurry back, Deku and Bakugo are up next!”
If you know Izuku and Bakugo, you know that this fight is going to be intense. It’ll definitely be entertaining to watch too, which is why Ochako grabs Y/n’s hand and starts to lead them back to class. 
Y/n tries to look over her shoulder at Monoma, but Ochako closed the door on their way out. 
“Hey, what was Monoma doing in there?” Ochako asks. 
Kissing me, Y/n thinks, but she probably shouldn’t say that. “He’s… working for Recovery Girl. Copied her quirk and stuff.”
“Whatt? I never would’ve imagined him as a nurse, he doesn’t seem like the type of guy to help others like that…” 
Y/n nods in agreement. He didn’t seem like her type either, yet here he was making her all flustered. 
Seriously, out of all people, Neito Monoma?
You’re an idiot, Y/n. 
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should I make a part 2? 🤭
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paperdice · 5 months ago
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Hi can I’m have a platonic request of the ancients cookies x child reader who posses the soul jam it called the light of innocence reader it a huge cheerful adorable ball of sunshine that see the all positive in earthbread reader cuteness it so much not even the monsters have courage to attack them istead they protect reader from the cookies of darkness and dark enchantress cookie too they smile bright anyone day anytime at all headcanons please
𝐀𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐣𝐚𝐦 (𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬)
"The impact this child has on everyone needs to seriously be studied.."
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⋆。˚♡•ᴗ• There was only five soul jams, the five that did more than enough to protect earthbread and the cookies that lived within it. Yet, the secret of another lying around in an unknown cookies possession was exposed.
⋆。˚♡•ᴗ• Pure vanilla was one of the few who was anxious at the thought of a cookie that they didn't know was holding a soul jam. The possibility of it being used for evil was the biggest worry, though the name "Light of Innocence" sounds heroic. If placed in the wrong hands, it could lead to terrifying dangers.
⋆。˚♡•ᴗ• Though that was the past, now pure vanilla is babysitting the soul jams holder. The Light of Innocence landed on the brightest child there is, pure vanilla was the first to be smittened by the ball of sunshine. You radiated this positivity around yourself that affected everyone near by, or at least that's what it felt like.
⋆。˚♡•ᴗ• The fact that nothing is willing to hurt you is very shocking. He gets it of course but even animals and cookies of darkness such as dark enchantress cookie herself wouldn't dare to touch you with any negative attachments in mind. His reaction to seeing you, a small wee child, hugging and petting a huge beast like it was a house pet for the first time. He almost had a heart attack
⋆。˚♡•ᴗ• Pure vanilla would open his eyes often when around you due to knowing that you like his heterochromia eyes. He loves seeing you giggle at his pretty eyes, he doesn't understand why you laugh but as long as you're happy he doesn't mind. You're such a ray of hope in pure vanillas perspective, always looking in the good in times of fear and danger.
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⋆。˚♡•ᴗ• Loves to take you to his garden, he swears that every time you walk past the flowers, they begin to rise and glow at your presence. At times it looks like the flowers are trying to reach you with the way they lean towards the direction you're in. When you're in the garden the plants look their best, the most alive they've ever looked.
⋆。˚♡•ᴗ• As if pure vanilla didn't shine his own light, when the two of you are together its like a second sun on earth. It's even joked by other cookies that nobody can look directly at you both because it's too bright! Cookies know if the duo are making their way towards them because the infamous glow gradually gets larger. It's so cute!
⋆。˚♡•ᴗ• He protects you with everything hes got, though pure vanilla is a healer and never fights, he still will use every bit of his dough to shield you from any risks. Which means check ups are fairly common, of course he knows you're okay every time since nothing ever wants to hurt you. But it's better to be safe than sorry!
⋆。˚♡•ᴗ• Walks with pure vanilla are common too, he likes to do a quick stroll in the kingdom with you to lighten the air. The flowers stand at your attendance, the grass's green pops, clouds that hid the sun backs off and the wind refreshes all in a hitch. Pure vanillas walks are always made the better when having you by his side. You can also save the trouble of everyone dealing with your morning hyper by having the walk cooling you off.
⋆。˚♡•ᴗ• Pure vanilla cookie takes great care of you, he protects you, looks out for you plus spoils you in every way he can whilst teaching you important life lessons and morals. This grandpa's heart is big enough to fit you in it, but sometimes it feels as if you took up too much space with how worrisome he can be when he knows nothing happens. He's your main babysitter for a reason! He loves you!
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⋆˚ ౨ৎ ˙˖° Brace yourself for a hug cause it's coming in hot! Hollyberry cookie is very affectionate towards you, how could she not?? Just look at your cute lil face! The holder of the unseen soul jam was like family in holleyberrys eyes. Unlike pure vanilla cookie who was more in the role of your babysitter, she was like a mother figure to you. As she was to all cookies
⋆˚ ౨ৎ ˙˖° Mother hollyberry cookie here laughed her head off when she saw a small lamb being a soul jam holder! Oh how the worries of it being in the wrong hands was nothing but a joke now, a frail fresh cookie was protecting the gem with their newly baked life. Hollyberry cookie applauses your bravery,, you've been under her protection ever since.
⋆˚ ౨ৎ ˙˖° She likes to tell you her stories with extra exaggeration to see your reactions, she'll even give you sweets and a warm drink to go along with these tales. Of course she's a busy cookie herself so she can't always spend every moment with you, but that's why she always has to treat it with specialty being with you.
⋆˚ ౨ৎ ˙˖° She tells wildberry cookie to keep an eye on you whenever he gets the chance, he too is as much as your guard as he is hollyberry cookies. He's an observer for your soul jam, making sure it's always in your possession in case you get too distracted with fun. Hollyberry cookie can't help but smile at the sight of "big scary wildberry" towering over the happy go lucky child for safety measures.
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⋆˚ ౨ৎ ˙˖° She thinks your wonderful for anyone to be around! You can be a shield yourself you know, with how loving everyone automatically gets when it comes to you, nothing can get passed you. Oh how she loves to pick you up and show your glimmer self to her kingdom, making any stops you wish to make then meeting all kinds of faces.
⋆˚ ౨ৎ ˙˖° Hollyberry cookie likes to hand you popular children's drinks from her kingdom, if you like a specific type expect her to toss mountains of it on you to drink no not literally ouch. The same goes for sweet delights, she'll suggest her personal favorites when she was your age!
⋆˚ ౨ৎ ˙˖° This queen can read you like a book! You think she's not paying attention when you're off picking some berries when she's conversating with another cookie, till one day she hands you a basket filled with berries. Remarking when she saw you trying to gather berries but due to your size you couldn't get many. Next time just ask her for some berries!
⋆˚ ౨ৎ ˙˖° Being with hollyberry cookie is basically you doing whatever you want, she's so laid back and free spirited if anything she'd support your ideas and actions. However that doesn't stop how she can get protective of you. Yes she knows even the wildest of beast will roll over for your touch, but she will hold you back if you start feeling obliviously bold.
⋆˚ ౨ৎ ˙˖° She shields you from many things, always making sure you don't have your mind cluttered up with any negativity. Her words of encouragement are always smoothing, you don't understand it now due to age but soon you'll realize why she always wanted you to just be yourself.
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˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡⟢ His face never showed how truly worried he was to knowing there was a secret soul jam, as well as how shocked he was to know who you were. You were in the very last of his expectations, dark cacao sighed away whatever thoughts he had before meeting you and introduced himself along with his friends.
˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡⟢ Seeing such an optimistic holder that felt nothing but positivity and was so free of doubt, to be fair yes you are a child but even children are aware of the evil creeping up on earthbread. He's not complaining, not anymore no.
˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡⟢ Before all the ancient cookies decided to protect you, dark cacao had a heartwarming moment with you. Or that's what his heart felt like, he was watching you pick at the buttercup flowers since nobody was around to do it instead. Making sure your safe from any soul jam robbers.
˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡⟢ You called over to him and asked a question that made him show no reaction but he had little interest, "you know if you put a buttercup under your chin it'll glow? But,, it only works on some cookies!" No he didn't know, so when he saw you call him down to your level he followed. He knelt down and you hovered the flower under his chin, it didn't work, the small cookie laughed then showed him how it works on them not in a teasing way
˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡⟢ While you were speaking he noticed how his soul jam started glowing, the purple illuminating in a way he's only seen once before. You noticed it too, so you went closer with curiosity til you noticed how bright it got when you did. Dark cacao cookie looked vaguely surprised, however when he saw you getting all giggly he finally noticed that you had this radiation of positivity, a glow. No wonder the soul jam beamed at your presence, he couldn't help but smile.
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˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡⟢ Pure vanilla the babysitter, hollyberry the mother figure and now dark cacao the personal guard. He clearly has a soft spot for you, when the ancient cookies were thinking of protecting you instead, the others could tell you were already working on dark cacao. He was all agree than disagree which was not the way he was before.
˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡⟢ You seem to have grown an interest in what dark cacao thinks of things before you act upon it. You know how kids get when they look up to you and wanna see if you like something they like as a form of confirmation? Same with the new holder and dark cacao cookie, of course he knows this. He could be peacefully walking behind you then you point out how pretty the sky is later turning to him and ask what he thinks.
˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡⟢ He'll either agree with you or just quietly say whatever he thinks, he knows you care about what he thinks, even so, dark cacao is a humble man. He feels a bit idolized that you look up to him and in a way he sometimes cares about what you think too. He doesn't wanna scare you off or seem crude, he lays off his stoic face a bit and tries to be careful with his words to not sound harsh.
˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡⟢ If you take interest in his hair, wishing to play with it, he probably won't know what to do. Will he allow it? Just for a bit, if it gets too much he'll softly end hair play. If you take interest in his kingdoms snacks/foods he'll give you a warning to its bitterness or lack of taste before you choose to take a bite.
˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡⟢ He truly does care about you, you just need to be a bit patient with the old man, he's not good with showing emotions. He's a kind man at heart, we all know it, towards you he'll especially try his best to be more forward as well as safeguard you. Whether beasts protect you or not he's on standby for anything that comes your way.
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ִ ࣪𖤐 What could one of the things be missing.. Hmm.. Oh duh, the rich aunt! When she saw you she laughed alongside hollyberry cookie, the kinda laugh, if done to a child, couldn't tell if they were being made fun of or they really were just joking around. Rest assured you found out very quickly that's just how her radiance is.
ִ ࣪𖤐 When your tiny eyes followed up and down her appearance, you paid extra attention to her wings. Your eyes are in awe at its beauty that you hadn't realized you just grabbed it with no announcement! She turned a bit offended but mostly shocked with how brash you were. But when she saw you smiling in admiration, she knew, she was going to love you.
ִ ࣪𖤐 Have all the cheese your little heart desires, she'll give you finest she has in store. The face you made when you took your first bite fills golden cheese cookie with pride and joy, well of course she knows it good I mean cmon now, what really sold her was your eagerness for wanting more. You were so stuffy by the end, pure vanilla had to remind her that sometimes too much care can be, well,, too much..
ִ ࣪𖤐 Fancy her gold? If you stare too long wanting a closer look at the gleaming golds and treasures she holds, she'll let you take a closer look. Like the shining necklace in that shop? Well lets go in she'll let you observe and take in all the bling! Though she will keep an eye out if she spots any fakes around, your eyes deserve the finest, realest jewels there is! Greed is a good thing in her kingdom after all.
ִ ࣪𖤐 A secret that the both of you share, is one nobody can find out, not like she cares, she just doesn't wanna deal with defending herself in future disagreements. The secret being golden cheese cookie flights! It started off small for awhile, tosses in the air slowly getting higher and higher. Slowly beginning to fly off land a bit further, till of course cookies told her not to for safety reasons, that broke your little heart.
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ִ ࣪𖤐 But why would it be a secret if you guys stopped? Because you didn't, sure you were sad for like a second till you found good within it like always and yet she remembered how much you laughed. It's not like shes not careful no, your treasure to her, that's why she trusts both herself and you to keep flying, just keep it under wraps yeah?
ִ ࣪𖤐 She knows whenever it gets too hot out cookies feel discomfort, melting under the sun ain't exactly the most pleasant experience. That's why when she knows it's feeling a bit much out, she'll shade you using her wings, no way is some heat going to disrupt your enjoyment.
ִ ࣪𖤐 The cheesebirds love you too! Sometimes you find yourself carried away accompanying them rather than golden cheese cookie, they're just too cute not to talk to. Birds your size that can talk, bonus being that they love talking to you, sometimes golden cheese cookie has to remind you that you're hanging with your aunt today.
ִ ࣪𖤐 I have a sneaky feeling shes not as chill as the other ancients (aside from pv) when it comes to beasts getting close to you. Pure vanilla tries to avoid beast interactions, hollyberry cookie laughs knowing nothing will happen and dark cacao is always on standby. Golden cheese cookie,, she either does one or two things, tries to get your own beast army as a joke or tells you to stay away.
ִ ࣪𖤐 Golden cheese cookie loves your innocence, you have no idea how much power you hold in your mini hands, but she will teach you how to rule the cookies. How to be a monarch yourself in the future, till then, she has a lot of playtime with you before you reach that age.
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⋆˚✿˖° Her shock to you wasn't really much of a shock, it was more like a long pause. The repeated question flooded her head like a broken record, "how did you find the soul jam?". She also questioned if you ever knew how to use it, these thoughts were never her doubting you, okay but who wouldn't.. from what it seemed to look like, you knew what it could do.
⋆˚✿˖° The soul jam fitted you perfectly in her mind, the light of innocence held by the personification of light with a mind of innocence. It seemed like fate in her eyes, so if it was, she has nothing to worry about. Her body mellowed while she softy and ever so quietly laughs along with hollyberry cookie and golden cheese cookie.
⋆˚✿˖° You were just the cutest surprise, after the decision was made to look over you, white lily cookie was like an older sister. Shes always quiet and determined to find any peace left in earthbread. Because of this, in your childs mind, she's a little scary. Not in the intimidating way no, you looked up to her.
⋆˚✿˖° She was like your older sister in a way because of this if you ignore the sibling fights n all that stuff, you were the little sibling that wanted to have your big sis's attention and her love. Though she didn't push you away, she always caught you staring at her at times in a shy way. She really wanted to talk to you, the way the other ancients did.
⋆˚✿˖° Yes you're the cookie that sees good in everything, not a single negative trait was in your heart or dough. So why was it you felt shy towards her? Cause you loved her! The whole time while she was thinking of reasons for your actions, you were secretly planning the perfect first impression! No where near shy as she thought you were no, you were just hoping to make less appearances to make "the first meeting" perfect!
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⋆˚✿˖° You surprised her by having other cookies your age pretend to attack her, of course she didn't feel threatened, they were using toys as weapons and their acting was goofy. It didn't take long to find out why the cookies were messing around with her, you jumped in with dramatic flare, showing off your soul jam to the "evil cookies" and warning them to back off.
⋆˚✿˖° Ever since you "saved" white lily cookie the two of you have been the cutest duo! You love to try and braid her hair the way she does it, she taught you how to braid hair when you caught her doing her own hair. It was a bit tricky for your youthful brain, although, once you got a hang of it, you never let go. Always asking white lily to let you braid her hair when it's already been braided. It warms her heart.
⋆˚✿˖° If white lily cookie noticed you liked her staff, you can get the privilege of holding it for a bit. She admires your innocence, how was it not even once did you ponder knowing more? It was like you were living life on easy mode, no thought behind those eyes unless it's joyful thinking.
⋆˚✿˖° One day, a cookie taught you how to make flower crowns, so you asked white lily cookie to let you into her garden. You told her your plan of making her a white lily flower crown, it did hurt a little seeing the flowers getting picked but she was happy with the end result. She wore it for a bit after that.
⋆˚✿˖° White lily cookie can't do much but she tries to keep an eye out on you, her heart would break into millions of pieces if she were to ever find out something bad happened to you. She'll give you loads of words of wisdom so nothing like that can come of sort.
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I hope you enjoyed these, I think I passed out like two times while writing but I'm glad it turned out just fine. If you're thinking of rolling again you're welcomed back anytime!
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on-my-vigilante-sht · 11 months ago
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Mine
Luke Castellan x Reader
Requested by: @officiallenalove like imagine the reader is like a daughter of Poseidon and we know he’s not around most of the time and she meets Luke and they like fall in love but she’s never known what healthy love looks like so it’s low key angsty but happy at the same time yk?
Summary: "You are the best thing that's ever been mine"
Warning: crappy parents, angst, self doubt
Word Count: 2k
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A/N Sorry this took so long I had a hard time choosing which lyrics/moments I wanted to write
You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter
Godly parents were always deadbeats. It was just a fact of half-blood life. But after spending years thinking I had no father, I was thrilled to have been claimed by Poseidon. It was naïve of me to think that just because he claimed me he’d be a good father just because I knew of his existence. I spent night after night praying to him, looking for some sense of guidance from him but never receiving anything. Eventually I learned not to bother with him or anyone else.
My mom had let me down enough times that I knew it wasn’t just gods that let you down. When she finally told me about my father she told me I’d be moving to a strange place. Not for my safety but because she didn’t want to take care of the daughter of the god that broke her heart. She complained endlessly on the drive over that my father never even bothered to offer her immortality, rather last she heard of him he was falling in love with another woman on Long Island.
She was dead to me after she dumped me at camp with hardly a goodbye. And then my father was dead to me when I begged for his help but received nothing.
~
I was a flight risk, with a fear of fallin' / Wondering why we bother with love, if it never lasts
Most of the other campers felt the same about their godly parents but it seemed like the only one who really understood was Luke.
“I mean, it’s like we’re nothing to them,” Luke ranted to me. We rant to each other a lot. “We’re just byproducts of their mistakes.”
“Gods, I hate men,” I groaned, lying back in the grass of the green. “Are all fathers this shitty?” I asked, looking up at Luke. I squinted into the sun as I peered at him accusingly. He moved his hand to block the sun from my eyes.
“I wouldn’t know from personal experience but I wouldn’t be this shitty,” he smiled cheekily down at me. He moved to lay back too, resting on his elbow. “I’d never abandon you.”
I could feel my chest tighten and I hoped it wasn’t apparent on my face. I just laughed, gently pushing his chest in a playful manner, hoping I was sparing him any embarrassment by making him think I thought he was joking. “You wish. You’d probably leave once the first diaper change comes.” I couldn’t even begin to consider loving him—or anyone—enough to feel abandoned by him. Thanks to my parents I felt more than enough abandonment.
He gave me a forced laugh as I sat up. “Yeah probably. I’d just be the fun dad.”
~
Do you remember, we were sittin' there by the water? / You put your arm around me for the first time
Later that day I found myself sitting on the beach of the Long Island Sound. The ocean was always sort of a sore spot for me because it was just a reminder of my father but it still felt calming. Like I belonged despite my father’s indifference.
As I stared out into the sound, zoning out, I let my mind wander to the conversation I had with Luke. That wasn’t the first time he had tried to hint at his feelings and he was a great guy but I couldn’t trust him. I didn’t have faith that he—or anyone for that matter—wouldn’t just let me down. How could I trust I wouldn’t let him down.
I was interrupted from my thoughts by the man himself. “Hey, can we talk?” he asked, coming to stand next to me. I just wordlessly gestured for him to sit next to me. He complied, taking a few breaths before looking at me. “I’m just gonna come right out and day it: I like you,” he rushed. “You don’t have to like me back or anything but I need to know that you know.”
I stared at him, my mouth agape. I hadn’t expected his boldness. “Um…” I had to take a second to structure my thoughts. “Luke, you’re a great guy. Any girl would be lucky to have you but you don’t want me.”
“Actually, I do I just said it,” he chuckled, trying to release some tension.
I laughed with him. “No, I mean I don’t think I can give you what you want. I’m not the best with feelings and I’m not entirely convinced that you, and everyone else in my life, won’t just leave me when it’s convenient.”
“Hey,” Luke chided gently, throwing an arm over my shoulder to bring me closer, “I meant what I said I'm not gonna abandon you. And if you’re scared, that’s fine, we can take this slow. If you really just don’t want a relationship that’s fine. I’ll still be by your side no matter what.”
Tears pricked my eyes at how thoughtful and caring he was being. Fortunately he couldn’t see them because my head was resting on his shoulder. “Okay,” I agreed, “I want to try taking things slow with you.” His grip on me tightened as he held me a little closer, like he was so excited you just have to squeeze something.
~
Braced myself for the goodbye / 'Cause that's all I've ever known
Things were great for a few months. Every time I began to doubt our relationship, Luke was there to help me. Giving me constant assurances and telling me how much he loved me. So much so that I started to feel like a burden to him. Like I was just a task he had to get through every week.
“Hey,” Luke announced his presence as he entered my cabin, “I haven’t seen you all day, what’s up?” he asked, looking around the cabin.
“J-just a second!” I called from a storage closet. I quickly wiped my tears and steeled myself, willing myself to look normal. Realizing he’d be wondering why I was in the closet, I grabbed a random blanket from one of the shelves. Taking a deep breath, I stepped out of the closet with a smile. “Hey.”
His face immediately dropped. “What’s wrong?”
Curse my puffy eyes. “Nothing,” I answered. He approached me but I just slid past him, dropping the blanket onto my bunk. “Why?”
“Your eyes are all red. What’s wrong?” he asked again. Once again trying to touch me but I just backed away.
“Must be dust or something in the closet,” I tried to dismiss.
His face hardened. “C’mon, Y/N I know something’s wrong. I don’t want you to hide things from me. I want to take care of you.”
At his words the dam broke and all the thoughts and feelings I had been dealing with bubbled over. “I don't want you to have to take care of me!” A look of hurt appeared on his face and my heart ached for him. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, I do. I just don’t think it’s fair to you to have to comfort me whenever anything little happens. It’s pathetic,” I spat at myself.
“Hey, no, you’re not pathetic,” Luke assured me.
“You’re not listening to me,” I insisted. “How can you possibly want to be with me when I do nothing but drain you?” I stared at him, waiting for him to realize that I was a leech and leave for his own sake. But instead, he just looked endeared.
“Y/N, you are the best thing that’s ever been mine. I don’t want you to ever think that you’re a burden to me. I love you and I love that I'm the one who brings you comfort. So please, just let me love you.”
My resolve broke and I went to him, letting Luke pull me into his chest. “What did I do to deserve you?” I cried into the warmth of his chest.
“I ask myself the same,” he returned, pressing a kiss to my head.
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were-changing-cake-vaults · 10 months ago
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Etho cannot deny that in some way, the ocean is messing with his friends, and that he noticed far too late.
It targets Gem first, long before it goes after anyone else, so subtly it’s almost undetectable. Here’s the way he notices: her little boat is cute, but the mangrove wood on the trim seems old and rotten in some places, murky river water staining the paint that coats the sides. The lighthouse, when built, seems washed out, as if the color has been sucked from the stone that forms it. Etho finds this strange, but refuses to jump to conclusions- Gem is still his little sibling with the same warm smile, so he lets it be for now.
It’s really when the fishing craze begins where Etho starts having doubts about the normalcy of things. Grian is in no way an average person most of the time, but this level of dedication is new and sort of suspicious. It starts with the mending book, which is fine, since he’s decided to avoid villager trading this season. Etho comes over sometimes and jokes about the luck of the sea. Here is where it gets weird, though: when he comes over to make that joke again, Grian turns his head, oh so slowly, expression serious and eyes blank as he replies.
“The ocean will provide the book. It’s the next one, I know it.”
It takes a little more effort than it should for Etho to not turn tail and run. The tambre of his friend’s voice is off-kilter and strange, almost hollow in the way it echoes. And it’s the way he doesn’t say mending, he just says the book- Etho can’t help but feel like he isn’t fishing for enchantments anymore. The air smells of rot and slime. He swallows bile, gives a little uh-huh as a reply, and leaves as soon as he can.
Then there’s Pearl and Beef, obsessed with salmon, of all things. Pearl’s thing seems like a one-off, but Doc tells him that Beef has taken the joke about “big salmon” a little too far, claiming he’s gotten emails from them that have threatened the goat directly. Etho doesn’t really know what to make of that, or Pearl’s salmon head, or the continuous slapping of fish on noteblocks that’s driving him insane.
But he knows this: he’s never really liked fishing before, not for its intended use, anyway. It’s good to have in a death game, but not once has Etho found the monotonous motions of fishing appealing. Grian said it best himself: he used to think fishing was lame. And he did. Does. He thinks it’s lame. He thinks all of this stuff about the river and the boats and the ocean and the salmon and the rot is all really weird and not at all cool. He’s only here to make sure his friends are okay. Not to fish, because he doesn’t want to, just to keep Magic Mountain in line.
But Grian says it again: Etho walked up here and was like ‘this is lame’, now look at him! Etho, in turn, looks at his hands. When did he start fishing? Was the sun always that high in the sky? Did the ocean always sing like that? Was there always a magnetic force to the waves at the shore, pulling him closer with every lap of sea foam? Was the lighthouse always this beautiful?
No, no it wasn’t. He knows this. Something is very, very wrong. There’s something in the water that’s making his friends lose it, and there’s something supernatural that’s trying to pull him in. He needs to get out of here, back to the jungle, with its nice green grass and earthy smells-
To his right, Etho hears his death call. The bell rings, the swan sings, and the water keeps lapping at his feet. It’s too late, he knows it, in the way that his hands are gripping the fishing pole with white knuckles, in the way the lilypads seem to grow under his feet to get him closer to the great deep blue. The music continues, the serenade settling into his bones, giving him an eerie sense of calm.
In the magnetic pull of the moment, he doesn’t even realize he’s crying.
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