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w1w2 · 29 days ago

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A Contract of Silence

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Giselle x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ca. 8k

Synopsis: Giselle and Y/N navigate their growing connection amidst the backdrop of their carefully constructed partnership.

English isn’t my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

The penthouse had begun to feel different. The sterile, impersonal air that once defined the space was slowly being replaced by something warmer, something neither Giselle nor Y/N could fully articulate.

For Giselle, the change was unsettling but not unwelcome. It wasn’t a conscious decision at first, choosing to work from home more often or spending an extra few minutes in the kitchen each morning. She told herself it was about convenience, that her tightly packed schedule demanded the flexibility of remote work. But deep down, there was another reason, one she didn’t dare acknowledge. Y/N.

There was something about Y/N’s quiet presence that felt grounding in a way Giselle hadn’t realized she needed. It was unspoken, the way Y/N moved through the penthouse with her calming energy, leaving behind faint traces of warmth.

The mornings began to stretch out, no longer rushed or strictly utilitarian. The sun filtered through the windows, bathing the penthouse in golden light. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the faint scent of lavender from the candles Y/N often lit in the evenings.

Y/N usually sat at the dining table in the mornings, her notebook open or her phone in hand, scrolling or jotting down ideas. Her focus was steady, her brow occasionally furrowing in thought, and the way she curled up on the chair made the vast, luxurious space feel oddly homey.

Giselle, dressed in one of her tailored ensembles but with a touch of casualness, lingered in the kitchen. She sipped her coffee, her sharp gaze flicking between her tablet and the woman seated at the table.

The shift was gradual but noticeable. Giselle found herself drawn to the table more often than not, sometimes standing at the counter for longer than necessary as she reviewed emails or prepared for her next meeting.

One morning, as Y/N quietly worked, Giselle slid a stack of papers across the counter, the crisp sound breaking the comfortable silence.

“What do you think?” Giselle asked, her tone measured but tinged with curiosity.

Y/N looked up, startled by the question. Her wide eyes locked with Giselle’s for a moment before she reached for the papers, her fingers brushing against their edge.

She flipped through the pages carefully, her expression shifting to one of concentration. The proposal was detailed, the kind of meticulous work Giselle demanded of her team. Y/N’s brow furrowed slightly as she read, her lips pressing into a thin line.

After a moment, she set the papers down and grabbed her phone, typing quickly. She held up the screen.

“Looks solid, but the timeline seems tight. Are you sure the team can handle it?”

Giselle’s lips twitched into the faintest smile. She took the papers back, her fingers grazing the edge of the stack as though absorbing Y/N’s words. “I thought the same,” she admitted. “They’ll have to adjust.”

Y/N smiled softly, her hands resting on the table as she nodded in agreement.

The exchange was simple, almost inconsequential on the surface. But as Giselle returned to her work, she found herself glancing at the papers again, her mind lingering on Y/N’s insight and the quiet confidence she brought to the moment.

And for Y/N, the interaction stayed with her too. It was the first time Giselle had sought her opinion on something so significant, a small but meaningful gesture that hinted at the trust growing between them.

Their evenings followed a familiar rhythm, a quiet tradition that neither of them had ever discussed but both seemed to value. After dinner, when the remnants of their meal had been cleared and the penthouse was bathed in the soft glow of its ambient lighting, Y/N would retrieve her notebook or phone, ready to teach Giselle more phrases in sign language.

The lessons had become a space uniquely their own, one where titles and pretenses were left at the door. It wasn’t about CEO and fiancée, nor about contracts or appearances. It was simply Giselle and Y/N, finding a shared language in more ways than one.

One evening, Y/N flipped open her notebook, her pen gliding smoothly across the page as she jotted down the phrases they’d covered so far. She glanced up at Giselle, who was seated across from her in the living room. The CEO was leaning forward slightly, her elbows resting on her knees, a rare casualness to her posture.

“You’re getting better,” Y/N typed on her phone, holding it up with a grin that made her eyes crinkle at the corners. Her silent approval was accompanied by a playful thumbs-up.

Giselle tilted her head slightly, her lips pressing into a thoughtful line as she studied Y/N’s most recent gesture. “Still clumsy,” she admitted, her fingers moving deliberately as she attempted the motion again. Her brow furrowed with focus, the sharp precision she demanded of herself evident in every movement.

She huffed softly, her frustration evident but tempered by the patient presence of her teacher.

Y/N clapped silently, her expression bright and teasing as she shook her head. She reached out, gently adjusting Giselle’s hand until the motion was correct, her movements deliberate and encouraging.

“Like this,” Y/N gestured, exaggerating the motion to make it clear. Her energy was light, the faint bounce of her shoulders and the sparkle in her eyes making the lesson feel less like work and more like play.

Giselle tried again, her movements more fluid this time. Her sharp eyes flicked up to Y/N, seeking approval, and when Y/N nodded enthusiastically, her grin widening, something in Giselle’s chest tightened.

“What did I just sign?” Giselle asked, leaning back with a skeptical look.

Y/N’s grin turned mischievous as she signed something quickly, her motions fluid and precise.

Giselle’s eyes narrowed. “Again, slower.”

Y/N repeated the motion, her hands moving deliberately, but the gleam of mischief in her eyes didn’t waver.

“You’re refusing to tell me, aren’t you?” Giselle said, her tone dry but laced with amusement.

Y/N nodded, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

For a moment, Giselle simply stared at her, the faintest chuckle escaping her lips as she shook her head. “You’re insufferable,” she muttered, though the warmth in her voice betrayed the words.

The lesson continued, the atmosphere light and filled with unspoken warmth. Giselle, who was usually so poised and guarded, found herself relaxing in a way she hadn’t in years. The quiet encouragement in Y/N’s gaze and the way her teasing never felt mean-spirited made the process enjoyable, even when Giselle stumbled.

It wasn’t just about learning the language anymore. It was about the moments they created together, the shared laughter, the way Y/N’s energy brightened the room, and the way Giselle found herself leaning into the connection more than she ever expected.

As the lesson wound down, Y/N signed one last phrase, her hands moving deliberately, her expression soft.

“You did well,” she gestured, her eyes meeting Giselle’s with a warmth that made the space between them feel smaller.

Giselle mimicked the phrase, her hands steady now. It wasn’t perfect, but it was close.

Y/N clapped silently again, giving her an approving nod. She grabbed her phone and quickly typed a follow-up.

“See? You’re improving every day.”

Giselle tilted her head, her gaze lingering on Y/N for a moment longer than necessary. “It’s because I have a good teacher,” she said, her voice quieter now, almost thoughtful.

The exchange was simple, yet it lingered in the air between them, heavy with unspoken meaning. Y/N’s cheeks warmed slightly, but she quickly smiled, nodding in acknowledgment before tucking her notebook away.

As the night deepened, the penthouse seemed to hum with a quiet energy, the kind that came from shared understanding and unspoken emotions. It wasn’t something either of them could put into words, not yet, but it was there, growing stronger with every passing evening.

The changes in Giselle’s behavior weren’t always dramatic, but they were there, woven into the fabric of their everyday interactions. They appeared in the smallest acts of thoughtfulness, moments that might go unnoticed by anyone else but spoke volumes to Y/N.

At a business dinner, Giselle’s attention to detail was unrelenting. She had ensured that the menu accommodated Y/N’s dietary preferences, subtly but firmly redirecting the server when an incorrect appetizer was placed in front of her. “She’ll have the one without nuts,” Giselle had said, her tone leaving no room for debate. Y/N blinked in surprise but nodded her thanks, the quiet gesture not lost on her.

It wasn’t the only time Giselle’s protective nature showed itself. During a particularly high-pressure meeting, the tension in the room was palpable. Giselle’s sharp words cut through the discussion like a blade, her gaze icy as she dismantled a poorly presented proposal. Y/N, sitting quietly to the side, felt the weight of the atmosphere pressing down on her. When Giselle’s tone turned particularly curt, Y/N couldn’t help but wonder if she had somehow contributed to her frustration. The thought lingered long after the meeting ended, making her movements slower and more hesitant throughout the day.

That evening, as they sat on opposite ends of the couch in the penthouse, the silence between them felt heavier than usual. Y/N busied herself with her notebook, her fingers tracing absent patterns along the page as her mind replayed the events of the day. Giselle, sitting with her legs crossed and a glass of wine balanced in her hand, observed Y/N out of the corner of her eye. The younger woman’s posture was tense, her normally fluid motions subdued.

Finally, Giselle spoke, her voice cutting through the quiet. “You know that wasn’t about you, right?”

Y/N’s head snapped up, her wide eyes meeting Giselle’s. She hesitated for a moment, then grabbed her phone and began typing quickly. “It felt like it was,” the message read when she held it up, her expression uncertain.

Giselle sighed, leaning back against the couch. Her sharp edges softened as she studied Y/N’s face. “It wasn’t,” she said simply, her tone uncharacteristically gentle. “You did fine. Better than fine.”

Y/N blinked, the words settling over her like a warm blanket. She typed again, her movements slower this time. “You really mean that?”

A faint smile tugged at the corner of Giselle’s lips, almost imperceptible but enough to shift the energy in the room. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t,” she replied, taking a sip of her wine before setting the glass down. “Don’t overthink it.”

The sincerity in her words made Y/N’s chest tighten. It wasn’t an elaborate apology or a grand gesture, but it didn’t need to be. The fact that Giselle had noticed her unease and taken the time to address it spoke louder than anything else.

As the evening wore on, the tension between them eased. Y/N found herself glancing at Giselle more often, the memory of her gentle words lingering in her mind. And Giselle, though she wouldn’t admit it aloud, felt a quiet satisfaction in knowing she had reassured Y/N, her protective instincts now extending far beyond the boundaries of their contract.

The days that followed Y/N’s reunion with Irene were a refreshing shift in her routine. Their frequent messages and video calls brought back a piece of Y/N’s life she hadn’t realized she missed so deeply. Irene’s texts were a mix of lighthearted banter, shared memories, and genuine curiosity about Y/N’s life now. It wasn’t long before their exchanges became a regular part of Y/N’s day, a pocket of warmth and familiarity amidst the complexities of her arrangement with Giselle.

One sunny afternoon, Y/N received a text from the concierge in the building’s lobby, letting her know that a visitor had arrived. Her heart skipped slightly at the mention of Irene’s name. Quickly, she replied to confirm, giving the green light for Irene to be sent up.

The private elevator hummed softly as it ascended, and Y/N found herself pacing near the entrance to the penthouse, her anticipation growing with each passing second. Finally, the elevator doors slid open with a quiet chime, revealing Irene, who stepped out with her usual poise.

“Irene!” Y/N signed and mouthed the name, her excitement radiating as her hands moved in fluid gestures. Her smile was radiant, lighting up her face in a way that softened her features.

Irene’s expression mirrored Y/N’s delight as she stepped fully into the penthouse. “It’s so good to see you,” she signed back, her motions slower but deliberate.

Inside, Giselle sat in the living room, her tablet balanced on her lap. She looked up at the sound of the voice. Irene stepped into the space with the same quiet confidence she exuded at the restaurant, her tailored outfit impeccable and her smile disarming.

“I hope I’m not intruding,” Irene said smoothly, her sharp but kind eyes scanning the penthouse. Her gaze lingered on the minimalist décor and the impressive view through the floor to ceiling windows before returning to Y/N.

“Not at all,” Giselle replied, setting her tablet aside and rising from her chair with her usual grace. She extended a hand, her tone polite but measured. “It’s good to see you again, Irene.”

Irene returned the handshake with a firm grip, her smile widening. “Likewise, Giselle. I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting Y/N to have a fiancée when we reconnected.” Her tone was teasing but kind, her words directed at both women.

Giselle’s lips curved into a faint, practiced smile. “Life is full of surprises,” she said smoothly, though her gaze flicked briefly to Y/N, who was already ushering Irene toward the living room.

As the two women sat on the couch, falling into an easy rhythm of conversation, their hands began to move in synchronized gestures. Irene’s signing was slower than Y/N’s, her fluency not quite as sharp, but her effort was genuine and heartfelt. The room seemed to hum with their shared history, their silent language weaving a connection that spoke louder than words.

Giselle returned to her seat and picked up her tablet, or at least pretended to. She found herself glancing up more often than she intended, her sharp gaze lingering on the way Y/N’s face lit up as she signed. Her expressions were animated, her eyes sparkling with a rare joy that softened her features in a way Giselle wasn’t used to seeing.

It wasn’t just Y/N’s energy that captivated her, though. The familiarity between Y/N and Irene was palpable, a rhythm that only came from years of knowing someone deeply. Irene leaned in slightly when Y/N signed something with particular enthusiasm, her focus unwavering. The warmth in her smile as she responded was equally captivating.

A pang of something sharp and unwelcome settled in Giselle’s chest. She told herself it was nothing. Just curiosity. Irene was a friend from Y/N’s past, nothing more. And yet, the ease with which Irene navigated Y/N’s world, the way she seemed to effortlessly understand her, made Giselle feel strangely... displaced.

At one point, Y/N burst into silent laughter, her shoulders shaking as Irene signed something Giselle couldn’t decipher. The soundless exchange felt almost private, as though the two were in a world entirely their own.

Giselle arched a brow, her tablet momentarily forgotten. She kept her expression neutral, but her fingers tightened slightly around its edges. For someone so used to control, the unfamiliar twinge of jealousy was an unwelcome visitor.

“Tea?” Giselle asked suddenly, her voice cutting through the silence that followed Y/N’s laughter. Both women turned to her, their expressions slightly startled by the interruption. Giselle kept her tone even, her gaze cool as she continued. “I was about to make a pot. Would you like some, Irene?”

Irene smiled graciously, nodding. “That would be lovely, thank you.”

As Giselle disappeared into the kitchen, Y/N glanced at Irene, her hands signing quickly. “She’s not usually this... accommodating.”

Irene chuckled softly, her own hands moving in response. “She’s interesting, I’ll give her that. But you seem happy.”

Y/N hesitated, her fingers pausing mid-motion before she nodded. The truth was complicated, too tangled to explain even in sign language. But in that moment, she couldn’t deny the faint sense of comfort that had grown between her and Giselle.

In the kitchen, Giselle stared at the kettle as it boiled, the sound of the muted laughter drifting in from the living room. She clenched her jaw, her reflection in the polished steel of the kettle revealing a flicker of something she didn’t want to name.

This was ridiculous, she thought. Y/N’s joy wasn’t hers to covet. Yet, as she carried the tray of tea back to the living room, her sharp gaze found Y/N’s once more, and for a fleeting moment, she wondered if Irene noticed the way her hand lingered just slightly too long when she set Y/N’s cup down.

Later that week, as Y/N prepared to meet Irene for lunch, she stood near the kitchen island, her phone in hand as she typed. The soft light of the afternoon poured into the penthouse, casting a warm glow over the sleek surfaces.

“She thinks I should help with one of her charity events,” Y/N typed, holding her phone out for Giselle to read. Her lips curved into a small, hopeful smile. “It’s small, but it sounds interesting.”

Giselle, who had been reviewing something on her tablet, glanced up at the message. Her brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, a subtle shift that Y/N immediately noticed. She lowered the tablet, her sharp eyes scanning the words on Y/N’s phone before flicking up to meet Y/N’s gaze.

“That’s not a good idea,” Giselle said, her tone clipped and precise.

Y/N blinked, her head tilting slightly in confusion. The abruptness of Giselle’s response made her chest tighten. She hesitated before typing another message, her hands slower than usual.

“Why not?”

Giselle set her tablet aside, leaning slightly against the counter. “It could raise questions about your availability,” she said, her voice carrying the polished authority that came so naturally to her. “We’ve been careful to present a united front. Splitting your time could undermine that.”

Y/N’s lips pressed into a thin line as she processed the words, the weight of Giselle’s reasoning settling heavily on her shoulders. She tapped out a reply, her fingers hesitating over the screen.

“I thought it was a good idea. It’s just one event, and it wouldn’t affect our arrangement.”

Giselle’s gaze hardened slightly, though her expression remained composed. “It’s not just about the arrangement,” she said. “Perception matters. And if Irene’s event draws attention to you in a way that shifts focus from... us, it could create complications.”

The explanation was logical, even reasonable, but it didn’t dull the sting of Giselle’s tone. Y/N’s fingers hovered over her phone, her thoughts swirling. She wanted to argue, to say that helping with a small charity event wouldn’t jeopardize anything, but the weight of the conversation left her feeling drained.

“I understand,” she typed finally, though her expression betrayed her disappointment. She slipped the phone into her bag, her movements deliberate as she gathered her things for lunch.

As Y/N walked toward the elevator, her shoulders were slightly hunched, a subtle but telling sign of her deflation. Giselle’s gaze followed her, her sharp eyes taking in the slump of Y/N’s posture, the tightness in her steps.

The sound of the elevator doors closing snapped Giselle from her thoughts. She leaned against the counter, her jaw tightening as a wave of guilt washed over her.

She knew her reaction had been unfair. Irene’s presence wasn’t a threat, and logically, a single charity event wouldn’t unravel their carefully constructed image. But the thought of Y/N becoming more entwined with someone else, someone who understood her in ways Giselle was still learning, left her unsettled in a way she couldn’t quite articulate.

Giselle’s hand lingered on the edge of the counter, her nails tapping lightly against the smooth surface. For all her precision and control, this was one thing she couldn’t seem to rationalize away.

“Damn it,” she muttered under her breath, the quiet curse a rare crack in her composure.

The guilt gnawed at her, clashing with the irrational irritation she had felt earlier. But Giselle wasn’t ready to confront the root of her feelings, not yet. Instead, she picked up her tablet, her movements brisk as she tried to refocus her mind.

Yet, no matter how much she tried, her thoughts kept drifting back to the look of disappointment in Y/N’s eyes.

That evening, Giselle sat in her office, the soft glow of her laptop casting shadows across the room. The screen displayed an email from a partner, something about projections for an upcoming quarter, but the words blurred into meaningless lines of text. Her attention was elsewhere, drawn back to the look on Y/N’s face earlier that day.

It wasn’t just disappointment she had seen. It was something quieter, deeper, like a part of Y/N had withdrawn, retreating behind the walls she rarely let down. Giselle couldn’t stop replaying it in her mind, the way Y/N had walked away without looking back, her shoulders slightly hunched as though carrying an invisible weight.

Why did it matter so much?

Her thoughts swirled, tangled and unyielding. She had built her life on control, every decision calculated, every emotion carefully compartmentalized. And yet, when it came to Y/N, that control felt like it was slipping through her fingers.

The sound of the city hummed faintly through the penthouse’s windows, a distant reminder of the world outside. But in the stillness of her office, Giselle felt exposed, vulnerable in a way she hadn’t allowed herself to be in years.

She leaned back in her chair, exhaling quietly as her fingers hovered over the keyboard. She could have sent a message, something brief, polite, acknowledging that she might have overreacted. But the words wouldn’t come.

Instead, she closed her laptop with a soft click and stared at the blank wall opposite her desk. The truth sat heavy in her chest, buried beneath layers of carefully constructed defenses.

The truth she wasn’t ready to face.

This wasn’t about the engagement, or even the arrangement they had. It wasn’t about perception or maintaining their image. It was about Y/N. The way she brought life into the sterile corners of the penthouse, her quiet determination, her effortless warmth. The way she made Giselle feel grounded, seen, in a way no one else had.

Her gaze drifted to the door of her office, as though expecting Y/N to walk through it. But the penthouse was silent now, the only sound the occasional rustle of papers as Giselle shifted in her chair.

Y/N was likely in her room, curled up with her phone, probably texting Irene. The thought sent an irrational pang through Giselle’s chest, sharp and fleeting but impossible to ignore.

For the first time in a long while, Giselle felt truly unmoored. The life she had built so carefully, the walls she had constructed around herself, felt less solid, as though cracks had begun to form. And through those cracks, something unexpected had begun to seep in, something she couldn’t name, something she wasn’t sure she wanted to name.

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk and pressing her fingers to her temples. The tension she carried in her shoulders felt heavier tonight, the weight of her own emotions pressing down on her.

And as much as she hated to admit it, she didn’t know how to stop it.

The morning after her restless night, Giselle emerged from her bedroom earlier than usual. The penthouse was bathed in soft morning light, the faint aroma of coffee lingering in the air. Y/N sat at the dining table, a notebook open in front of her as she quietly sketched out notes.

Giselle paused in the doorway, her sharp gaze softening for a brief moment before she stepped forward, her heels clicking softly against the polished floors.

“Good morning,” she greeted, her tone even but less brisk than usual. Y/N looked up, her brows lifting in surprise before offering a small smile and a wave.

Giselle approached the table, setting a sleek folder on its surface. “I need you to pack,” she said, her voice carrying the air of someone used to issuing instructions. “We’re flying to Milan tomorrow.”

Y/N blinked, startled. Her hands moved automatically to grab her phone, typing out a quick response. “Milan? Why?”

“There’s a charity gala hosted by Lueur,” Giselle explained, opening the folder and sliding a document across to Y/N. “It’s an important event. Publicity, networking, securing partnerships, it’s all part of the image.”

Y/N read the words carefully, her lips pressing together in thought. She typed again. “You want me to come with you?”

Giselle’s gaze met hers, steady and unreadable. “It wouldn’t make sense for my fiancée to stay behind. Besides, your presence strengthens the narrative.”

The explanation was practical, detached, but Y/N caught the faintest flicker of something in Giselle’s tone, something that suggested her presence was more than just a strategic move.

“What should I pack?” Y/N typed, the question laced with quiet acceptance.

Giselle allowed herself a small smirk. “Nothing too casual. Milan doesn’t do casual. Our outfits for the gala are already chosen. I can ask stylists to help you with your clothes.”

Y/N laughed silently, shaking her head as she scribbled a quick note in her notebook. Giselle lingered for a moment, her gaze drifting to the neat handwriting on the page before she straightened.

“We leave at eight. Be ready,” she said, turning to head back to her office. But just before she disappeared down the hall, she glanced over her shoulder. “And don’t worry. You’ll do fine”. The words hung in the air long after she left, leaving Y/N with a small, inexplicable warmth in her chest. She couldn’t quite pinpoint why Giselle’s assurance lingered the way it did, but it stayed with her as she packed her things that evening, preparing for the trip ahead.

The next day arrived in a blur of final preparations. By the time they boarded the private jet, Y/N found herself marveling at the effortless way Giselle navigated the world of luxury, calm, composed, and always in control. She followed Giselle’s lead as they arrived in Milan, the vibrant city welcoming them with its blend of historic charm and modern elegance.

Now, as their car rolled to a smooth stop in front of the Palazzo di Luce, a beacon of modern sophistication nestled in Milan’s historic heart, Y/N couldn’t help but feel the weight of anticipation settle in her chest.

The sleek lines of the hotel shimmered under the soft glow of the city’s streetlights, an architectural marvel that seemed both at odds and in harmony with the ancient cobblestones surrounding it.

The valet approached, opening the car door with a practiced flourish. Giselle stepped out first, her polished heels clicking softly against the stone driveway. She adjusted the strap of her designer handbag with the same effortless grace she carried into boardrooms and gala halls, her sharp gaze sweeping over the entrance. Turning back, she extended a hand toward Y/N.

Y/N hesitated for just a moment before accepting the gesture. Her fingers were cool but steady against Giselle’s, the contrast grounding them both. She stepped out, her wide eyes immediately drawn to the grandeur of the hotel. The towering glass facade reflected the golden glow of nearby lanterns, while sleek, understated sculptures flanked the entrance like silent guardians.

“This is... a lot,” Y/N typed on her phone as they approached the doors, holding the screen up for Giselle to read.

Giselle’s lips curved into a faint smirk. “Only the best,” she replied, her tone light but carrying an edge of tension that only Y/N seemed to notice.

The doorman greeted them with a warm smile, ushering them inside. The hotel lobby was a symphony of understated opulence, gleaming marble floors, cascading crystal chandeliers, and quiet murmurs from impeccably dressed guests. The concierge, dressed in a perfectly tailored uniform, approached with a keycard in hand.

“Ms. Uchinaga, Ms. L/N,” he said with a polite bow. “Welcome to the Palazzo di Luce. Your suite is ready.”

The elevator ride was swift and silent, the hum of machinery filling the small space. Y/N’s gaze flitted to Giselle, who stood with her usual composed posture, though her hand rested loosely on the sleek railing. Y/N thought she saw a flicker of something, in her otherwise unreadable expression. Discomfort, maybe?

The doors slid open, revealing their suite. It was a masterpiece of modern luxury: warm recessed lighting illuminated marble floors that seemed to stretch endlessly. A plush sofa faced a wall of glass that framed the Milan skyline like a living work of art, the glittering lights of the city stretching far into the horizon. In the center of the room was the bed, a massive expanse of white linens and carefully arranged pillows that looked impossibly soft.

Y/N’s gaze lingered on the bed, her brow furrowing slightly before she turned to Giselle, holding up her phone after quickly typing. “One bed?”

Giselle’s lips twitched in what might have been amusement. “It’s for appearances,” she said smoothly, though her voice carried a faint hesitance. Her gaze shifted to the luxurious couch by the window. “I’ll take the couch.”

Y/N frowned, her fingers moving quickly over her phone. “That’s ridiculous. The bed is huge. We’ll both fit. It’s fine.”

Giselle arched a brow, clearly unconvinced. “Are you sure?” she asked, her tone teasing but hesitant. “I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Y/N rolled her eyes dramatically, her silent laugh shaking her shoulders as she gestured toward the bed with exaggerated emphasis, signing, “It’s fine.”

A beat passed, Giselle’s sharp eyes studying her. Finally, she relented with a small nod, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “Fine,” she said, her tone mock-serious. “But if you start stealing the blankets, I’m reclaiming the couch.”

Y/N grinned, shaking her head as she moved toward her suitcase to unpack. Giselle remained still for a moment, her gaze lingering on the bed before shifting to Y/N. There was something unexpectedly easy about their exchange, a quiet understanding settling between them.

As the evening unfolded, the suite seemed to shrink, not because of its size, but because of the growing closeness between its occupants. The walls of the Palazzo di Luce, grand and silent, bore witness to the beginning of something neither of them fully understood yet.

Later that evening, the suite had settled into a comforting quiet. The hustle and grandeur of their arrival had given way to a peaceful stillness, broken only by the faint sounds of Milan’s nightlife filtering through the slightly cracked window.

Y/N sat cross-legged on the expansive bed, her focus on the notebook perched on her lap. The outline of the city outside their windows slowly came to life under her careful strokes, the skyline rendered in soft, deliberate lines. Her tongue peeked out slightly at the corner of her lips, a habit Giselle had noticed and, despite herself, found endearing.

Across the room, Giselle reclined in an armchair near the window, a glass of wine balanced in her hand as her other scrolled lazily through her tablet. The soft light from the city’s glow illuminated her sharp features, giving her an almost ethereal quality.

The atmosphere in the room was calm, the earlier tension having dissipated into something softer, quieter. It felt unspoken but understood, an ease that came not from words but from proximity, from simply existing together in the same space.

“You’re working too hard,” Giselle remarked after a while, her voice carrying a rare trace of warmth as her gaze flicked toward Y/N.

Y/N paused, her pen hovering above the page as she glanced up. Her brows lifted, and a soft smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth as she reached for her phone. A moment later, she held up the screen. “Says the CEO with a tablet in one hand and a glass of wine in the other.”

Giselle’s lips twitched, a faint smile breaking through her usual composed exterior. “Touché,” she replied, setting the tablet aside.

Y/N’s silent laugh brightened the room in a way words couldn’t, her shoulders shaking as her gaze returned to her notebook. The soundless joy was infectious, and Giselle found herself watching Y/N for a moment longer than she intended. There was something grounding about her presence, the way she made even this opulent suite feel... comfortable.

Minutes stretched into an hour, the quiet rhythm of the room lulling them into an unspoken ease. Y/N finished her sketch, carefully closing the notebook and sliding it onto the nightstand. She leaned back against the pillows, her movements precise but unhurried, and glanced toward Giselle as she rose from her chair.

Giselle crossed the room with her usual grace, placing her empty wine glass on the table. She paused for a moment, her sharp gaze softening as it lingered on Y/N. “We should get some rest,” she said, her voice quieter now, almost reluctant to disturb the calm.

Y/N nodded, adjusting the pillows on her side of the bed. Her hands moved fluidly as she signed, “Good night.”

“Good night,” Giselle echoed aloud, slipping into her side of the bed.

The lights dimmed, leaving the room bathed in the golden glow of the Milan skyline. The bed was spacious, the distance between them more than enough to maintain boundaries, yet the shared space felt undeniably intimate.

Y/N closed her eyes, her breathing evening out as she drifted off, but Giselle remained awake, her gaze fixed on the ceiling. The warmth of Y/N’s presence lingered beside her, pulling at the edges of her thoughts, unsettling but not unpleasant.

Giselle exhaled quietly, her mind a tangle of emotions she didn’t dare name. For now, she allowed herself the smallest of indulgences, appreciating the quiet companionship of the woman beside her, the fleeting moments of peace they seemed to create together in a world otherwise fraught with noise.

Giselle woke gradually, her senses slow to piece together the unfamiliar sensations around her. The mattress was softer than the one at the penthouse, the air tinged with the faint aroma of luxury linens. But it was the warmth beside her that truly pulled her into wakefulness.

Her eyes opened to find herself closer to Y/N than she’d anticipated. The space they had carefully maintained the night before was now nonexistent. Her arm brushed lightly against Y/N’s, and her head had tilted just enough to catch the faint, sweet scent of her hair.

Y/N lay still, her face relaxed in peaceful slumber. Her features, often animated in conversation or softened with silent laughter, now carried a vulnerability that stirred something unidentifiable in Giselle’s chest. Her lips were slightly parted, her breaths steady and rhythmic, and for a moment, Giselle felt as though the world had narrowed to just this, the quiet intimacy of the morning and the weightless stillness between them.

Giselle’s mind raced, fragments of thoughts clashing against one another. Sharing a bed had been a necessity for the illusion they were trying to maintain, a practical arrangement. It wasn’t supposed to mean anything.

And yet...

She didn’t move. Couldn’t move, not immediately. There was a pull in this moment, an ache she couldn’t quite name. She was a woman who thrived on control, who navigated her life with precision and purpose. But here, with Y/N so close, her guard felt fragile, as though the quiet warmth could melt it away completely.

Eventually, she exhaled quietly and began to shift. Her movements were slow, deliberate, as though afraid to disturb the tranquil scene. As she slid out of bed, her gaze lingered on Y/N for a heartbeat longer, the faint glow of dawn painting soft shadows across her sleeping form.

Giselle padded across the room, the coolness of the marble floor grounding her. She stopped by the window, her arms crossing over her chest as she stared out at the Milan skyline. The first rays of sunlight broke over the horizon, casting the city in hues of gold and pink.

Her thoughts churned, insistent yet incomplete. She told herself this was nothing, just the natural result of proximity. But the tightening in her chest, the way her hand hovered slightly as if tempted to reach back, betrayed her reasoning.

Behind her, she heard the soft rustle of sheets, followed by a lazy stretch.

“Good morning,” Giselle said without turning, her voice steady but carrying a softness she hadn’t intended.

Y/N’s groggy expression greeted her when she finally glanced over her shoulder. She sat up, her hair slightly mussed from sleep, her hands moving slowly to sign a sleepy reply. “Good morning.”

The exchange was simple, unassuming, but it carried a weight neither of them dared acknowledge. Giselle allowed herself a moment longer by the window, composing her thoughts as the city began to awaken beneath them.

“I’ll order breakfast,” she said eventually, her tone sliding back into the polished cadence of routine.

Y/N nodded, her lips curving into a small smile. The quiet stillness between them dissolved as the day began to pull them forward, the gala and its demands looming ahead.

But for Giselle, the memory of the warmth they had shared lingered, an uninvited but not unwelcome guest in the corners of her mind. And for Y/N, the fleeting vulnerability she had glimpsed in Giselle’s gaze as she stood by the window was enough to leave her wondering what it all meant.

The soft hum of the car engine filled the air as Giselle and Y/N sat side by side, dressed to perfection for the evening ahead. The private car glided effortlessly through Milan’s cobblestone streets, the city’s charm illuminated by golden streetlights.

Giselle’s gown was a masterpiece, tailored to perfection in midnight blue silk that shimmered under the faint interior lighting. Y/N, in a sleek black ensemble chosen by Giselle’s stylist, carried an understated elegance that perfectly complemented her.

“Remember,” Giselle said, her tone measured but calm, “tonight is about appearances. Stay close to me, smile, and don’t let anyone fluster you.”

Y/N nodded, her fingers brushing lightly over her phone before she typed, “Got it. Smile, charm, and avoid flustered. Anything else?”

Giselle’s lips twitched into the faintest smile as she glanced at the screen. “And don’t let them corner you into answering questions. I’ll handle it.”

As they pulled up to the venue, the Lueur charity gala stood as a beacon of opulence. The grand entrance was lined with elegant floral arrangements, and the soft glow of chandeliers spilled out from the tall windows of the historic villa hosting the event. Paparazzi cameras flashed relentlessly, capturing the arrival of each guest.

The car rolled to a stop, and the driver stepped out to open Giselle’s door. She exited with her signature poise, her presence commanding attention as she reached back to offer her hand to Y/N.

Y/N hesitated for only a moment before accepting, her grip firm but steady. The cameras erupted into a frenzy as the two stepped onto the carpet, their perfectly coordinated attire and the natural grace of their movements captivating the crowd.

Inside, the villa was a vision of luxury. High ceilings adorned with frescoes, gilded accents, and towering floral displays created an atmosphere that was both breathtaking and intimidating. Soft classical music played in the background, blending seamlessly with the murmur of conversation and the clinking of champagne glasses.

Giselle’s hand rested lightly on Y/N’s back as they navigated the crowd, her touch subtle but steadying. Y/N’s initial nerves were soon replaced by a quiet determination, her head held high as they moved through the sea of Milan’s elite.

“Giselle,” a voice called out, smooth and warm. A distinguished man in his sixties approached, his tailored suit exuding wealth and status. “I was hoping to see you tonight.”

Giselle greeted him with a practiced smile. “Of course, Vincent. Allow me to introduce my fiancée, Y/N.”

Y/N extended her hand, her smile polite but genuine. The man took it, his own expression curious but approving. “A pleasure,” he said. “You have quite the remarkable partner, Giselle.”

Y/N caught Giselle’s fleeting glance in her direction, a flicker of something akin to pride in her eyes.

As the evening progressed, Y/N found herself engaging with guests more naturally. Her confidence grew with every introduction, and even Giselle seemed surprised by her ease.

The grand ballroom had transformed into a whirlwind of conversation and elegance, the hum of people filling the space with an energy that was both electrifying and overwhelming. Y/N, however, navigated it all with a poise she hadn’t realized she possessed.

Giselle stayed close, her presence steady and composed, but Y/N noticed the faintest flicker of approval in her eyes whenever she responded thoughtfully to a question or charmed a guest with her quiet humor.

As they moved through the room, the weight of expectation felt lighter. For once, Y/N wasn’t just the quiet fiancée of a powerful CEO, she was holding her own, and it felt good.

They paused near the center of the ballroom, where a particularly lively group had gathered. Laughter and camaraderie swirled around them, the polished glamour of the crowd heightened by the soft glow of crystal chandeliers overhead.

The center of the room buzzed with energy, laughter mingling with the soft hum of music and the clinking of champagne glasses. Among the crowd of high-profile attendees, Giselle and Y/N stood surrounded by a small group of influential guests. Their polished appearances and seamless chemistry had caught the attention of many throughout the night.

One woman, whose tailored dress and diamond-studded earrings hinted at her status as a regular at such elite gatherings, turned her shrewd gaze toward them. Her smile was playful but sharp, the kind that demanded attention.

“So,” she began, her voice lilting with amusement, “you’re the couple everyone’s talking about tonight. Quite the perfect pair.” Her gaze flicked between them, her tone turning mischievous. “But tell me, is this just for the cameras, or is there some real passion behind the façade?”

The remark drew a ripple of murmured interest from the group. Y/N’s cheeks flushed a soft pink, her fingers brushing lightly against the fabric of her dress as she glanced at Giselle.

Giselle, however, didn’t miss a beat. She arched a brow, her posture as poised as ever. “I wasn’t aware we were expected to perform for an audience,” she said smoothly, her tone laced with dry amusement.

The woman tilted her head, her smile widening. “Oh, come now. Just one kiss. Let’s give the romantics in the room a reason to believe.”

The challenge lingered in the air, buoyed by the laughter of the surrounding guests. Y/N glanced around, her gaze meeting several expectant eyes.

Giselle’s hand lightly brushed Y/N’s arm, a subtle gesture of reassurance. She turned her attention to Y/N, her sharp gaze softening slightly. “Are you comfortable with this?”

Y/N hesitated, her wide eyes searching Giselle’s for any hint of hesitation. But all she found was quiet confidence and an unspoken promise. You can trust me.

Taking a steadying breath, Y/N nodded. Her silent agreement wasn’t just for the sake of appearances, it was a decision to lean into the moment, to trust Giselle despite the vulnerability it demanded.

Giselle stepped closer, her movements deliberate, exuding the confidence that always seemed second nature to her. Yet, as she lifted her hand to cup Y/N’s face, there was a gentleness in her touch that spoke of something deeper, something unsaid.

Her fingers grazed Y/N’s jawline lightly, her palm warm against her skin. The crowd seemed to disappear, the hum of voices and music fading into the background as Giselle’s gaze held Y/N’s. For a brief moment, time felt suspended, the air between them charged with an intensity that neither could ignore.

When Giselle leaned in, her movements were unhurried, almost hesitant, as if testing the boundaries of the moment. Her lips brushed against Y/N’s, soft and feather-light at first, but there was a tenderness in the touch that made it feel far more intimate than it should have.

The kiss was brief, barely more than a heartbeat, but in that fleeting connection was a sincerity that seemed to ripple through the air. It wasn’t forced or calculated, it simply was, carrying with it an unspoken truth that neither of them dared to name.

As Giselle pulled back, her thumb lingered on Y/N’s cheek, grazing her skin in a slow, deliberate motion. The gesture was fleeting, but it felt grounding, a tether in the midst of the surreal moment.

Her hand fell away gracefully, her posture resuming its poised composure, but her gaze lingered on Y/N for just a moment longer. It was a silent exchange, heavy with meaning, before Giselle turned her attention back to the group, her expression unreadable but her eyes betraying a flicker of something softer.

The woman who had issued the challenge let out an appreciative laugh, her eyes twinkling with delight. “Well,” she said, her tone playful but tinged with sincerity, “I wish my husband would look at me like that.”

The comment drew a round of amused laughter from the group, but her words hung in the air, adding an unintentional weight to the moment.

But for Giselle and Y/N, the moment lingered.

As they resumed mingling with the guests, the memory of the kiss stayed with them like a whisper. Y/N couldn’t shake the sensation of Giselle’s touch, the warmth of her palm still ghosting against her cheek.

Giselle, on the other hand, found herself glancing at Y/N more often, her sharp focus briefly faltering every time she remembered the look in Y/N’s eyes before the kiss, the trust, the quiet vulnerability that had made her chest tighten in ways she couldn’t explain.

It was just part of the act, they both told themselves. But deep down, neither of them believed it.

As the evening continued, the gala unfolded like a seamless performance. Giselle was in her element, her every movement calculated to project confidence and control. She introduced Y/N to key figures with polished ease, her words flowing effortlessly as she maneuvered through conversations.

Y/N, bolstered by Giselle’s subtle cues and unwavering presence, found herself stepping into her role with surprising confidence. Her smiles were warm, her nods attentive, and her brief typed responses, translated by Giselle with grace, added a layer of charm to their dynamic. Together, they presented an image so convincing that even the most skeptical onlookers seemed captivated.

Yet, for all her poise, Giselle’s sharp gaze rarely lingered on the faces around her. Instead, it swept the room, dissecting every detail with precision. The slightest change in the atmosphere, a shift in laughter, a glance held too long, registered with her instincts.

A faint unease began to settle in her chest, growing heavier with every passing moment. Something was off.

And then she saw him.

The sight of Jeno standing at the entrance sent a cold shock through her. He was dressed impeccably, his suit exuding effortless sophistication. His sharp features, were lit with a smirk that radiated casual arrogance.

For the briefest of moments, Giselle’s poised exterior faltered. Her back stiffened, her jaw tightening as her pulse quickened.

Y/N noticed instantly. Her hand, small and steady, brushed lightly against Giselle’s arm, a silent question, a quiet reassurance. Giselle didn’t react outwardly, but the touch grounded her enough to steady her breathing.

Jeno’s gaze swept the room, and when it landed on them, his smirk deepened. He began making his way toward them, weaving through the crowd with unhurried steps, as though he owned the space around him.

Each step he took seemed to amplify Giselle’s unease. Memories she had spent years burying threatened to resurface, their weight pressing against the walls she had so carefully built.

“Who is that?” Y/N typed quickly on her phone, holding it discreetly where only Giselle could see.

Giselle’s jaw tightened. Her voice was steady, though laced with an edge she couldn’t quite mask. “Jeno,” she said quietly. “My brother.”

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, her brows knitting together in concern. She glanced back at Jeno, whose expression was a mixture of charm and menace, as if he were simultaneously offering a handshake and hiding a knife behind his back.

The distance between them closed all too quickly. Jeno’s smirk widened as he stopped in front of them, his gaze flickering between Giselle and Y/N with a knowing glint.

“Aeri,” he said smoothly, his voice low but carrying just enough volume to be heard over the hum of the gala. “It’s been far too long.”

The use of her real name made Giselle’s stomach twist, though her expression remained unreadable.

“Jeno,” she replied, her tone cool and detached. “What are you doing here?”

He spread his arms in mock innocence. “Can’t a brother show up to support his sister? Besides,” his gaze shifted to Y/N, lingering just a moment too long, “I had to see the famous fiancée for myself.”

Giselle’s hand clenched at her side, her nails biting into her palm. “This is neither the time nor the place.”

“Isn’t it?” Jeno countered, his smirk never wavering. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice so only they could hear. “Charity, glitz, glamour... Seems like the perfect stage for a little family reunion. Don’t you think?”

Y/N, sensing the tension radiating from Giselle, took a small step closer. Her presence was quiet but steady, her hand lightly grazing Giselle’s again in silent comfort. The gesture was subtle, but Giselle felt it like an anchor in turbulent waters.

Jeno’s gaze flicked to Y/N, his smirk deepening. “And you must be the reason she’s kept herself so busy. Quite the power couple, aren’t you?”

“She’s none of your concern,” Giselle snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut through his charm.

Jeno raised his hands in mock surrender. “Of course. I wouldn’t dream of interfering.” His tone dripped with sarcasm, but his eyes gleamed with something darker.

He stepped back, his smirk unwavering. “Enjoy the evening, Aeri. I’m sure we’ll talk again soon.”

As he walked away, the tension in Giselle’s shoulders didn’t ease. She stood rigid, her gaze following him until he disappeared into the crowd.

Y/N typed something quickly, holding it up for Giselle to see. “Are you okay?”

Giselle hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line before she nodded curtly. “I’m fine,” she said, though the words felt hollow.

Y/N didn’t press further. Instead, she stayed close, her presence a quiet reassurance that Giselle found herself clinging to more than she cared to admit.

#girl group imagines #kpop imagines #gg x reader #kpop x reader #aespa x fem reader #aespa x reader #giselle uchinaga x reader #giselle x fem reader #aespa giselle x reader #giselle x reader #aeri uchinaga x reader #a contract of silence

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sunflower-chai · 5 months ago

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How about you how have you been???

i’ve been so good!! went to nyc last weekend and it was INCREDIBLE. obviously saw jeremy jordan in the great gatsby but we managed to squeeze in so many other things in a short amount of time. went to the strand (biggest bookstore in nyc) and saw the high line which is an elevated rail line that was converted into a park. also had dinner at gayle’s broadway rose which is famous for its singing servers, everyone was SO talented and a lot of the staff are broadway performers who are in between jobs or even some current broadway ensemble performers! this is the same place where i saw andrew barth feldman and didn’t say anything to him lol.

next day we woke up early and walked through central park to the upper west side. had coffee at ralph’s which is connected to the ralph lauren flagship store. it was the best iced chai latte and pain au chocolat i’ve EVER had. we also walked to the met and took pictures on the steps (didn’t go in bc we had no time). then after gatsby we walked to bryant park (a large chunk of it was closed so they could set up the ice skating rink), the ny public library (which was hosting some kind of event that night so there were all these candles on the steps which was very pretty), and grand central station. we also walked to the chrysler building then realized it is in fact a place of work and would not be open at 9pm lol. then ubered to jfk at like 6am on sunday and that was the trip! on the way to new york we did take the tram to jamaica station and then the long island railroad to penn station, but we didn’t want to deal with all that the morning we left because it took us like 2.5 hours to get from landing at the airport to our hotel in midtown/times square.

wow sorry for talking so much but it was a very fun trip!! wish it could’ve lasted longer. it was rough transitioning back to reality this week with my job, but i had choir rehearsal wednesday and went to my brother’s band concert last night so it hasn’t been all bad. also saw the northern lights last night so that was cool!

oh forgot to mention stage dooring after gatsby! i’ve been to one other broadway show (aladdin) but it was in 2021 so nobody was stage dooring bc of covid. so this was a new very cool experience! we got to meet 4 of the actors and get pictures and they signed our playbills! we met the daisy buchanan understudy, the actor for meyer wolfsheim, the george wilson understudy, and the actor for jordan baker. jeremy did not stage door (not that i expected him to lol) but everyone started screaming at one point so i guess they saw him walk out of a different door? he was OUT of there so fast though, i didn’t see him lol.

#i know you literally asked me how i’m doing but i still feel bad for talking so much lol #maybe i’ll post some pics from ny at some point #ask #bronzetomatoes #mer talks #long post

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fashionography · 1 month ago

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Welcome to the ultimate cheat sheet for kicking off the year in style—because why settle for good when you can have unforgettable? From beauty must-haves that turn "no-makeup" days into a masterclass of effortless glam, to fashion essentials that make casual cool look couture, we’ve curated our favorite pieces this January that don’t just keep up with trends—they set them. This collection is your backstage pass to a life lived boldly, with every detail carefully chosen to elevate the ordinary into something extraordinary. So, buckle up—your glow-up starts here. BEAUTY + SKIN This month’s beauty and skincare must-haves reflect the season’s biggest trends: multitasking tools, bold pigments, and skin-first care. With precision brushes that simplify application, richly pigmented palettes that embrace the ongoing love for vibrant, expressive looks, and gentle cleansers that cater to the growing demand for hydration-focused skincare, these picks are both on-trend and timeless. Minimal effort paired with maximum results is the theme, aligning perfectly with the shift toward practicality without sacrificing luxury. These products were chosen for their ability to blend seamlessly into any routine while keeping up with the latest beauty buzz. Patrick Ta Dual EndedPrecision Brush Pat McGrath Labs Luminous Legends:Mega Eye Shadow Palette Kiehl’s UltraFacial Cleanser CLOTHING For anyone craving a fresh sartorial perspective this season, there’s no better moment than now to enliven a winter wardrobe with pieces that exude subtle drama. This season’s standout clothing items offer a masterclass in refined minimalism: perfectly cut denim that molds to you like a second skin, puffers that bring unapologetic drama to cold-weather dressing, and knits that balance sumptuous textures with a relaxed, off-duty vibe. Each piece has that ability to blend versatility with fashion-forward details, ensuring they work just as well for a casual coffee run as they do for a polished evening out. Khy Standard Puffer Jacket Gimaguas Malibu Cashmere Jumper KHAITE Danielle Stretch Jean ADVERTISEMENT HOME In the spirit of fresh beginnings, discover a trifecta that merges captivating ambiance, playful shapes, and whimsical artistry. Picture an aroma that conjures cozy sophistication, a sculptural accent that doubles as a conversation starter, and a delightfully inventive read with visual allure. These harmonious finds effortlessly elevate any setting, inviting style-conscious souls to linger just a little longer. Consider them an insider’s secret for infusing personal flair into every corner of the season. Aesop Sarashina Aromatique Incense MoMA Design Store Italian Ball Candle Pop-Up Hermès book in English ACCESSORIES As the new year unfolds, it's time to infuse your wardrobe with pieces that exude confidence and flair. Imagine a sleek accessory that elevates your ensemble with understated elegance, a bold adornment that commands attention, and a statement piece that adds a touch of rebellious charm. These carefully selected items transform everyday attire into extraordinary expressions of style. Embrace the opportunity to step into the year with renewed vigor and undeniable allure. OSOI Black Shoulder Brocle Bag Rabanne XL Link gold-tone bracelet Stussy 8 Ball Studded Belt Read the full article

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craftedproducts · 4 months ago

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Add a Touch of Elegance to Your Diwali Decor with Chic Coffee Table Sets

As the vibrant festival of Diwali approaches, the spirit of celebration fills the air, inviting us to transform our homes into sanctuaries of warmth and joy. Among the various elements that contribute to an inviting atmosphere, the coffee table serves as a focal point in living spaces, offering both functionality and style. This Diwali, elevate your decor by incorporating chic coffee table sets that not only enhance the aesthetic appeal of your home but also resonate with the festive spirit. Whether you prefer a minimalist design or a lavish ensemble, the right coffee table set can infuse elegance and sophistication into your celebrations. In this article, we will explore a curated selection of coffee table sets that beautifully blend traditional Indian motifs with contemporary design elements, ensuring that your home reflects the richness of the festival while providing a welcoming space for family and friends. From ornate finishes to sleek, modern lines, these coffee table sets can serve as the perfect canvas for decorative accents, sweets, and candles, harmonizing the essence of Diwali with your personal style. Join us as we delve into the art of selecting the ideal coffee table set to create an enchanting festive atmosphere.

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5. Embracing Minimalism for Lasting Appeal

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In conclusion, incorporating chic coffee table sets into your Diwali decor not only enhances the aesthetic appeal of your space but also creates an inviting atmosphere for gatherings and celebrations. By thoughtfully selecting pieces that reflect your personal style and the festive spirit, you can elevate your home’s elegance while paying homage to the traditions of the season. Whether you prefer minimalist designs or ornate decorations, the right coffee table set can serve as a stunning centerpiece that harmonizes with the vibrant colors and warmth of Diwali. As you prepare to celebrate, let your decor reflect the joy and sophistication of this special occasion, making your home a true sanctuary of festive cheer.

#teak wood furniture #coffee table

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sarahfeliciam · 7 months ago

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The Ultimatum Ch 59

Chapter 59

A few more days time was just enough for Emeline to feel up for the trip to the Burrow to attend Arthur’s funeral alongside her father, Tonks and Sirius.

Before they were to use the floo to arrive in time for the service, Emeline took Sirius to the front garden with her for steadying as she put together two bouquets of wild flowers. She wasn’t as good at this task as George and she felt her floral choice looked rather lame and lackluster, but she was pleased all the same with her sentiment.

“We’re going to be late!” Remus called from the front door, pie he had promised in hand.

Emeline and Sirius set off for the front door again and within moments they’d all lined up at the fireplace and then appeared one by one in the living room of the Burrow.

No one was in the sitting area, but it was tidy and cozy with blankets over armchairs and a candle lit on the coffee table next to a rather handsome photo of a younger Arthur.

Emeline stared at it for quite some time, noticing many of his children’s features stemming from this dashing early snapshot.

It was not enchanted to move, just a simple, muggle - in - appearance photo. With his love for muggles, she liked to believe they’d opted not to enchant the photo on purpose.

Finally, she was broken from her reverie by Molly bustling into the sitting area. She was surprised by two things: to see her in black, as she’d never seen Molly in anything but beige and fall coloration, and that she offered them a smile.

Though forlorn and tear-stained, she still welcomed them warmly.

It actually made Emeline’s stomach turn.

“Molly.” Tonks addressed her lovingly, pulling her into a tight hug first.

She pat her back as she squeezed her, offering her condolences once more.

Next, Remus stepped forward as Sirius transformed into himself from Padfoot and followed behind him. They both embraced her in a protective, joint effort and she kissed both of their cheeks, taking extra time to grab Remus and remind him not to dwell today.

Lastly, Emeline stared at her blankly.

She was wholly unsure of what to say.

She had good memories with Arthur for the most part, but nothing substantial in the regard of one-on-one, aside from their time at the Quidditch World Cup.

Molly, on the other hand, had tried the last few years to fill the motherly void in Emeline’s heart. She was broken for her and utterly horrified that Arthur died because of a change in shift due to Emeline’s own attack.

She still felt guilty that the gratefulness for Remus not being the one dead, won out, as well.

On that note, Molly moved to pull her into a tight hug and she winced in pain.

It was only then Molly noticed the deep gash across her collarbone and gasped lightly.

George entered the room at the same time and they stared at one another silently.

His face was downcast and pale, much like her own. He was wearing an old black suit with a deep maroon tie, Fred trailed behind him in a similiar ensemble, his face only slightly brighter than his twin’s.

George’s eyes absorbed Emeline’s features, taking note of her pallor and long, chesnut hair falling in perfect ringlets down her back and shoulders.

She’d chosen a simple black dress and an older cardigan pull-over that was her mother’s. Her wound was visibly wrapping to the front of her collarbone, which was unavoidable for the most part.

He sucked in a startled breath when he noticed the gash and his face sunk.

“Bloody hell, E, I’m so sorry, it completely slipped my-“

“- these are for you both.” Emeline cut off quickly, holding out the bouquets.

She handed one to Molly and one to George and did not breathe another word.

George kept his distance, taking mental note of her attempt to keep him from discussing the moon and unsure of how to approach her when they’d spent so much time apart.

They felt painfully more mature than the teens who parted ways at Hogwarts that day in preparation for the moon that Greyback attacked on.

Their lives had both been shattered in different scenarios, but shattered no less.

For the first time, an uncomfortable nausea rose in Emeline’s stomach.

Were they too far beyond repair?

“Molly, we’re ready to begin.” Dumbledore interrupted politely.

“Right,” her resolve cracked slightly and an older Weasley that Emeline had not yet met came behind her to take her arm.

He was interesting to her, with his own mess of scars and burns, and a large dragon’s tooth hanging from one ear. His suit was dragon scaled in an eccentric metallic color.

Though having never met before, Emeline knew it was Charlie.

“Let’s go, children.”

They all followed Molly to the backyard which she had set beautifully.

There were little fairy lights lining the pathway to Arthur’s shed, which Emeline was sure looked breathtaking at night. As she followed them down the gravel path to the few chairs that were gathered around the rundown garden, George came beside her and confidently took her hand. She looked up at him, questioning, however he was still fixated straight ahead where a large hole was dug and a simple casket with wildflowers atop it was hovering.

Emeline looked nervously to Remus; she had not expected this and felt anxiety mounting inside of her for some reason.

They’re burying him here!

If Remus was surprised by his daughter’s communication, you’d never have guessed.

He didn’t flinch as he walked hand in hand with Tonks, Sirius following closely behind them.

It’s customary in their family for the Patriarch

I feel sick

Breathe. The dead cannot hurt you, darling

These words resonated with Emeline somehow and gave her a strong sense of peace in her stomach.

Did her guilt somehow make her afraid of Arthur?

Worried of what he’d think?

It was silly.

As they all took their seats, she zoned out as Dumbledore’s voice droned on for all of the Weasley’s (save for Percy), and the Order to hear.

She noticed Harry and Hermione sitting close to Ron and Ginny and made a mental note to make contact with them later.

She fidgeted in her seat a great deal of times, the cold weather hitting her open skin and causing a sudden surge of cringed pain.

It was a beautiful service from the few words she could distinguish out of her haze, and every member of the family stood to say a special something for Arthur.

It was particularly heartbreaking to hear Molly suffer through a six page piece she’d prepared, and the others were not much better.

When it was George’s turn, he looked to his twin and they both stood in unison, stepping in front of the mess of lawn chairs.

“Hiya,” Fred began, bouncing on the balls of his feet as George stood sullenly next to him. “We weren’t sure what exactly to say today, but then we reckoned that dad would be the same. He was quirky and whimsical in all the best ways; A lot like us.”

He nudged George as though it was his turn to cut in what they’d rehearsed and George looked up and glanced around the yard, swallowing thickly before his eyes fell on Emeline.

His countenance changed slightly and he took in a deep breath to begin.

“Right. He was always encouraging of our wild hearts and played in to our crazy dreams…Which is why we’ve decided to leave Hogwarts and open our joke shop early, in his honor.”

The crowd was silent.

Painfully silent.

Eventually, they heard a loud, nearly insane laugh.

Molly

All eyes turned to the Weasley matriarch, whose smile was wide and laugh was infectious, and everyone joined in, dissolving into tears and laughter.

•

When evening fell and many had filtered out of the Burrow, the golden trio and Emeline’s family were all that remained minus Kingsley Shacklebolt.

Having been close to Arthur at the ministry and on recent duties, he felt it his job to aid Molly in any ways he could and was happy to hang around picking up after the service.

Emeline was standing next to Tonks, leaning heavily against the wall nearest them as Remus chatted with Bill Weasley and Sirius.

Eventually, she felt the familiar entwining of fingers and glanced up to see George.

“Come with me.” He whispered.

They left Tonks quickly, who simply offered Emeline a loving nudge on the shoulder and a wink.

George wrapped an arm around her waist as they headed outside, noticing how unsteady she was on her feet.

“Theres a spot down by the lake I’d like to show you. It’s… private.” He said nervously.

She noted how clammy his arm was.

When they’d finally made their way past the clearing and into some foliage surrounding the lake, George unrolled a blanket with just a wave of his wand.

He helped Emeline to sit comfortably with him and she leaned against him eagerly, hopeful that this would solidify her hope: that they could recover.

She looked up at the starry sky, so peaceful with the moon barely apparent.

“E, we’ve had so many challenges lately. It doesn’t feel like us anymore.” He whispered.

She turned to look up at him, anxiety clawing at her stomach.

She nodded curtly.

“I hate it. I’ve been in a right slump and it isn’t your fault. I just…” his voice broke and he shook his head slightly with a sniff. “I could’ve never imagined this would happen to us. My dad was the only one who really believed Fred and I could succeed in our shop. It was so sudden. I’ve been trying to be glue for everyone, but Charlie and Bill mostly took over with mum and.. I’m rambling.” He looked at her sadly, his face fallen further. “And you. I’ve been so wrapped up in something I can’t change that I’ve left the girl I love in the dark in the middle of one of the hardest moments of her life.”

Emeline couldn’t believe the sight before her when George dissolved into tears.

He shook from crying as he threw his wand to the ground and Emeline pulled him close to her, rubbing his back.

“George.” Her voice was soothing and gentle. His head in his hands, he did nothing to respond. “You’re right to respond to this however you need to. I have missed you, but I don’t hold it against you. I was afraid, maybe, you didn’t want this anymore.”

He looked up, then, his face completely void of color now as he grabbed her hands and looked at her intently. “Merlin, no. Never. I told you I loved you, E and I mean it. I love you, whether we are the only people in the world left or not. This has changed none of my feelings for you.”

“And what about me?” She motioned to the gash on her shoulder, unable to find the right words for what to call herself. “Has your mind changed because of-“

In response, he leaned down and placed a tender kiss against her collarbone.

She was suddenly freezing and, surprisingly, it had nothing to do with the forty degrees they were currently nestled in.

“George.” She started, closing her eyes as he shook his head and moved to kiss her neck softly.

“Nothing has changed.” He replied thickly, moving one hand under her hair and running his fingers along her head.

She rested one hand on his thigh and the other she snaked through his hair, too.

It was cut shorter now, and she found it incredibly attractive.

They quickly became tangled in this mess of snogging and touching, breathless and tempted to take it further, alone under the stars.

It took every bit of strength George had to pull back, holding her at arms length as they watched one another, chests heaving and George’s first few buttons undone.

“Not here. Not like this, Emeline. I love you. I want the best for you.” He swept a curl out of her face and leaned in to kiss her forehead lovingly.

Her eyes closed once more as she nodded.

“I love you, too.”

The coo of owls and the wind rustling through the brush lulled them peacefully as they silently sat there for a while longer.

Eventually, her aching muscles beckoned her and Emeline laid back on the blanket, watching the stars awestruck as they joined hands, George lying right by her side.

“So tell me more about this shop,” Emeline smiled. “I want to hear everything.”

“Only if I get to hear all about your new alter ego.”

“Deal.” She whispered.

They spent many more hours like that, talking under the stars about the future and the past; giving their souls and hearts some much needed rest.

They didn’t move until they were beckoned inside by Bill, who promised that if they came in now, he would not be telling anyone’s mother or father that they were in such a state of indecency.

George rolled his eyes, muttering something about three buttons and one dress sleeve, to which Emeline blushed, knowing damn well that would be enough for her father’s exasperation.

As they trailed back to the Burrow, Bill smiled warmly down at her.

“I really like your dad, Emeline. I’d met him before, as a child. He told me all about what’s happened.. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She smiled, hiding her grimace. The walk was long and she was tiring of doing it for the second time.

“Georgie, you should be carrying your girl. Poor dove.” He joked sarcastically.

Emeline snickered as George rolled his eyes.

Nevertheless, he scooped her up before she could protest and she squealed in surprise.

“Still think you can beat me in a race?” George asked thoughtfully.

“I know I can.” Bill declared.

With that, they took off running, and the exhilaration took Emeline’s breath away as they raced back to the Burrow, all the while her arms were wrapped around George’s neck for dear life.

She was so lively and happy with laughter when they burst through the front door, that Remus’ was slightly taken aback at the sight of his playful, relaxed girl.

He was so thrilled to see this side of her again, in fact, that he couldn’t even muster the fatherly instinct to inquire about those three little buttons and one, off-shoulder dress sleeve.

Author’s Note: I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. There are so many layers to losing Arthur for all of the Weasley’s, and those points will come up, but if I focus too long on it, we’ll go so far off track. We have a meeting with Umbridge to attend and getting ready to wrap up Order of the Phoenix as we approach the Department of Mysteries. We’re slowly but surely gearing up to Half Blood Prince. I’m so excited and grateful for all of the support! ❤️

Extra note: you all may be confused by Dumbledore not being approached for Emeline’s admittance, or him being around at all considering Umbridge has already ‘fired’ him. It wasn’t the time or place, and I did need to leave the story open for this upcoming meeting. 🥰

#harry potter #sirius black #remus daughter #remus lupin x daughter #professor lupin #remus lupin #remuslupin daughter #nymphadora tonks #george weasley

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shubhamblog555 · 7 months ago

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7 Creative Themes for Rakhi Gift Hampers

Raksha Bandhan, a festival emblematic of the unbreakable bond between siblings, presents an unparalleled opportunity to express affection and gratitude. While the traditional exchange of rakhis and sweets remains cherished, the art of gift-giving has evolved. To elevate this joyous occasion, consider crafting Rakhi gift hampers around these seven creative themes.

Theme 1: The Wellness Enthusiast

For the sister who prioritizes holistic well-being, curate a hamper brimming with rejuvenating elements. Incorporate aromatic candles, soothing bath salts, luxurious body oils, and perhaps a meditation journal. This ensemble transforms self-care into a sacred ritual.

Theme 2: The Bookworm's Haven

For the sister immersed in the world of literature, construct a bibliophile's paradise. Include a diverse selection of books, a cozy blanket, a bookmark adorned with a heartfelt message, and perhaps a selection of gourmet teas or coffees to accompany quiet reading hours.

Theme 3: The Fashionista's Fiesta

Celebrate your sister's love for style with a hamper that exudes glamour. Curate a collection of trendy accessories, such as scarves, jewelry, or sunglasses. Complement these with beauty products that align with her aesthetic. A personalized tote bag serves as the perfect finishing touch.

Theme 4: The Epicurean's Delight

Indulge your sister's taste buds with a hamper filled with culinary treasures. Explore a variety of gourmet chocolates, artisanal cheeses, crackers, and exotic jams. Include a stylish picnic blanket and cutlery for outdoor indulgence. This hamper is a gastronomic journey.

Theme 5: The Tech-Savvy Sister's Haven

For the sister who embraces technology, assemble a hamper of digital delights. Include wireless earphones, a portable charger, a stylish phone case, and perhaps a subscription to her favorite streaming service. Add a personalized touch with a customized phone grip or a quirky gadget.

Theme 6: The Green Goddess' Sanctuary

For the environmentally conscious sister, curate a hamper that promotes sustainability. Include reusable products such as tote bags, water bottles, bamboo utensils, and organic skincare items. Perhaps include a selection of indoor plants or gardening accessories to nurture her green thumb.

Theme 7: The Homebody's Retreat

For the sister who finds solace in the comforts of home, create a relaxing retreat. Include cozy blankets, scented candles, a selection of teas, and perhaps a book or puzzle for entertainment. This hamper invites relaxation and rejuvenation.

Remember, the essence of a perfect Rakhi gift hamper lies in its personalization. By carefully considering your sister's interests and preferences, you can create a truly memorable and cherished gift with these theme for rakhi gift hampers for sisters.

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alienadaisy · 1 year ago

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A Guide to Vintage Interior Design

In the fast-paced world of contemporary design, the allure of vintage interior design remains timeless. "Old World Glamour" is more than a trend; it's a captivating journey into the opulence of bygone eras. In this guide, we explore how to infuse your living spaces with the charm and elegance of vintage decor, focusing on unique pieces like the Wooden Musician Candle Holder to add a touch of artistic sophistication.

Embracing Old-World Aesthetics

When venturing into vintage interior design, it's essential to embrace the aesthetics of the past. Think regal color palettes, intricate patterns, and classic furniture silhouettes. Opt for deep, muted tones like burgundy, navy, and olive green to create a sense of grandeur. Incorporate plush fabrics such as velvet and damask for upholstery, adding a luxurious texture to your space. Wooden accents, like the Wooden Musician Candle Holder, effortlessly complement the vintage ambiance, infusing warmth and character into the surroundings.

The Artistry of Wooden Musician Candle Holders

Among the myriad of vintage decor options, the Wooden Musician Candle Holder stands out as an exquisite piece of functional art. Crafted with precision and showcasing the artistry of woodworking, these candle holders add a touch of musical nostalgia to your space. Place them on mantels, coffee tables, or as a centerpiece on dining tables to evoke a sense of old-world charm. The intricate detailing of these holders not only illuminates your space with a soft, warm glow but also serves as a conversation starter, making them a must-have for vintage enthusiasts.

Choosing the Right Wooden Musician Candle Holder

When selecting a Wooden Musician Candle Holder, consider the overall theme of your vintage decor. Opt for dark, mahogany finishes for a classic, Victorian feel, or choose lighter oak tones for a more relaxed, country-inspired setting. Pay attention to the detailing on the musicians – from the instruments they hold to the expressions on their faces, each element contributes to the overall charm of the piece. Mixing and matching different designs can add an eclectic touch to your vintage ensemble.

#etsyseller #homedecor #home & lifestyle #homemade #fashion #trending

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parfumieren · 2 years ago

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Balkis (Parfums de Nicolaï)

Once, I had the opportunity to sniff a real attar of roses straight from Istanbul. The perfumer insisted on holding the bottle while I bent my head over it-- possibly because it cost hundreds of dollars per dram, or else she thought I might pass out from the heaven of it all.

I understand that in saying this I am committing heresy and will be burnt as a witch, but what met my nose then -- a combination of formaldehyde, black pepper, and cheap dishwashing liquid -- shocked me. All Orientalist visions of rose harvests à la Rudolph Ernst fled before the advancing army of old-lady stonk.

I hated, hated, hated it.

How rose perfumes pass themselves off as dainty and feminine, I will never understand. They're the exhibitionists dreaded by all partygoers-- the ones whose booming voices and shameless antics send humbler guests scrambling for their coats. Even as bit players, they can derail an ensemble piece by turning inexplicably vulgar or sour. There's no predicting until the drydown hits whether you'll be soaring through a sweet pink paradise or swimming in a vat of vinegar.

So why do we keep trying? Because the rose -- the real one, fresh and dewy -- is what we're thinking of while reaching for the sad facsimile. We want that gorgeous thing, and will keep striving toward it no matter how many bad sprays, lotions, soaps, and Yankee Candles burn us.

If I'd stopped after reading the description, I'd have written Balkis off without a thought. Rose AND raspberry? To me, "fruity florals" in and of themselves signal danger. Raspberries figure large in this genre -- usually as unpleasantly as possible -- so I fully expected a great, big, sticky, Jolly-Rancher-flavored slap in the face.

Instead, the first note was a rosemary terpene, astringent and evergreen. I sat up straight. After this palate cleanser came the dessert tray-- but again, the usual sickening syrup was nowhere to be found. Instead, roses and raspberries had been cooked down to a concentrated jam, fused together by slow heat into something as dark, potent, and honeyed as Persian pomegranate molasses. Once this faded (thankfully not too soon) I found myself cozied up to a straight-up oriental rose: friendly, uncomplicated, powdery, and soft, as if headspaced right off of a living blossom still nodding on the vine. Balkis offers almost zero sillage -- unusual for a rose -- but having this scent stick close by your side is hardly a drawback. Above all, there's not a single trace of nasty guest-bathroom soap smell or any of the other demons that plague this genre.

Finally, a rose without thorns!

During a December many years ago, just on the cusp of a barrage of snowstorms which kept the Eastern seaboard paralyzed for months, I found my relationship with Balkis deepening. I cannot stress enough how much I welcomed its optimistic theme in the midst of frigid darkness. I asked it to absorb some of the sadness I was feeling, and it generously complied. Now Balkis has been discontinued-- but I no longer feel as sad or needful of succour. Life requires movement, and I am moving on.

Still, sadness -- like winter -- always comes back around. Before it strikes again, I think I will seek a new, rare rose as as an anodyne to strengthen my soul against the darkness and cold. I'm sure there will be perfumes that startle, delight, and captivate me as much, if not more. But none may comfort me quite the way Balkis did… and for that, I am profoundly grateful.

Scent Elements: Raspberry, Turkish damask rose, black pepper, coffee extract, iris, benzoin, vanilla

#balkis #parfums de nicolaï #perfume review #parfümieren

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totosite88 · 2 years ago

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Christmas Celebration in July: We Got You Covered

Even though we have spent most of our lives having summer Christmases, snow frequently comes to mind when we close our eyes and think about Christmas close our eyes and think about Christmas, snow frequently comes to mind. Maybe it’s because of all the movies we’ve seen that feature roaring fires, hot chocolate, and scalding hot turkeys around the holiday season in the northern hemisphere. Whatever it may be, many Australians want to experience a “white Christmas,” and spending Christmas at home in July rather than flying in December is much more affordable and easy!

Whether you celebrate Christmas in July or December, the excellent cuisine is unquestionably one of its best features. Christmas in July Catering has special potential for deliciousness because it allows us to experiment with foods and beverages that we might not often serve in the summer.

Create a holiday spirit.

While taking down the Christmas tree might be too much work, other decorations can easily add a festive touch to your mid-year gathering. Consider candles, pinecones, ornaments, and a nicely decorated table. For the prestigious Christmas in July Catering put your troubles in the hands of Big Flavours. Just make sure you clean off those Christmas CDs and play them in the background from your end.

Warm up your beverages.

Even though some would disagree, July is not the best month to have a cold beer with lunch. Consider mulled wine as a pleasantly soothing winter warmer for your Christmas in July spectacular. After your main course, make sure tea and coffee are easily accessible. For those with a sweet craving, don’t forget a traditional hot chocolate.

Christmas lights on a string.

Christmas lights are a wonderful way to create the right atmosphere for a party that will go well past dusk. They can be strung across balcony railings, deck railings, or the home’s eaves. Take your illuminated reindeer figurine as well.

Make it snow!

With a few flurries, you can cool off. A cheap and simple approach to add decoration is with paper snowflakes. It is also a fantastic kids’ craft activity!

Go back in time.

If you are spending the holiday with close friends or family, display old Christmas pictures that you have found. You can get started by looking at these images of Christmas from the year of your birth.

Implement a dress code.

You can still urge guests to wear their clothing even if it will probably be too warm for ugly sweaters. Consider red and green clothing or ensembles modeled after characters from holiday movies.

Exchange presents.

Who is to say that a gift exchange cannot be held in July? Host a gift swap party where you exchange handcrafted items to assemble your squad. If you are feeling imaginative, create a theme for the gifts that correspond to the holiday.

Your Santa to Rescue

Have a conversation with the Big Flavours crew if you are looking for a Catering service Melbourne to make your Christmas in July even more enjoyable. We put in just as much effort as Christmas elves and are adept at providing Christmas in July Catering. No matter if you have been good or naughty, call us to help make your party unforgettable Best Catering Melbourne.

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venus-light · 2 years ago

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A list of pleasures of the flesh and small joys about being alive:

Beautiful people, sex, friendship. The flesh of fruit. The petals of a flower, and the smell of baking bread. Toast that crunches in soup, a soft cat on the windowsill. New songs to sing in the kitchen, playlists made with love, another shot pulled back with laughter.

Another experience ticked off the list. No rush. Cool tattoos. More piercings over the years. Singing your heart out and being applauded. Remembering how someone takes their tea. Soft hair. Painting stars on your face. Getting drunk at a party. Making two coffees in the morning. Maybe three. Cradling the warmth of a mug in your palms. Having a blanket placed on your lap. Sitting down in a newly clean room. Scented candles. Sleepovers. A shelf full of drinks. Lightning storms caught on camera. Tropical weather. False eyelashes. Takeaway food from all corners of the world. Having a nickname. Walking quietly in the early hours of the morning. Talking excitedly on the same wavelength as someone.

The kindness of a bus driver. A sweet, excited conversation with a waiter. Being lost in a crowd. Teaching something to a friend. Existing in beautiful nature. Having people to share it with. Beautiful sunsets in the evening through a car window. Roadtrips. Cathedrals. Being called over to join someone. Choosing each item carefully from the grocery store. Seeing growth from the people you love, seeing them look visibly excited, visibly happier. Clicking with someone you just met. Cooking for someone. Navigating a new city.

Making your siblings laugh. Making your friends laugh. The sound of an ensemble harmonising together. The ring of violins and cellos. A city dressed up for Mardi Gras. A sincere compliment. The hours waiting in anticipation before a concert. People playing chess on the floor in a crowd. The feeling of riding through tunnels on a subway. Tall boots. Bubble tea. A couple falling asleep together on the train. Pride flags in unexpected places. Solidarity in unexpected places. A crowd singing together on the streets of Melbourne. The bold lights of a performance.

Art that grabs you by the throat. Sexual tension. Intricate rituals. Understanding. Safety. Challenge. Acceptance. Love. Healing. A group hug with friends. Singing duets. Spinning around in a new flowing dress. Dressing yourself up in glitter. Not feeling alone in the world. Strangers who smile at you on the street. Cute kids. Travel. Self-made photoshoots. Hearing your musician friends play and laugh and sing. Nighttime in a new city. Collapsing in a hotel room and taking your shoes off. Playing soft, calming music so your siblings can fall asleep. Taking the top bunk.

Acts of care. Warm drinks and gloves on a cool day. Mountains though the window. Opening someone’s drink for them. Swigs of water after a long volleyball game. Good banter. Fulfilling conversation. Celebration. Snow. A great joke in a story you keep coming back to. Resting your legs in a pool. A shoulder to cry on. A Chinese name for your younger sister.

A poem that makes you see shrimp colours. The ocean. Space. Forests. Crowds. Choirs. Music. Vastness and magnitude and interconnectedness. Forest cities. The feeling of being desired. The relief of being a part of something larger than yourself. The feeling of pride when you create something beautiful. Costume design. Children’s performances. The way creativity flows like a mysterious, branching, unpredictable stream. Being remembered for something you love and are good at. Experiencing intrigue. Wonder. Appreciation. Beauty. Desire. Trust. Intimacy. Catharsis. Awe. Relief. Surrender. Letting yourself be moved to tears.

Feeling yourself grow and change with time. The slow work of building skills over the course of years. The fulfilment of a new technique finally clicking. A great serve in volleyball. A high five. A high note that resonates just right. Makeup that shimmers. Dewdrops on the bus window. A dress that captures the light.

Beautiful comics and artwork. The feeling of finally understanding something. Characters and people that capture a fragment of yourself forever. Work that changes you. Resonance. Melting. Fondness. Pride. Self-recognition. Vanity. Nonconformity. Joy. Giving in to something. A really good u-quiz.

Understanding and acceptance. Setting boundaries, finally. Letting go of resentment, finally. Letting go of a life lived in service, shedding a dead identity like old skin. Making choices out of love for yourself, and out of love for others. Ninety three thousand photos in your camera roll. Mementos of love and grief. Protest marches. Charity work. Cafe desserts. Time spent in joyful conversation. Chatting on the couch with family and friends. Learning how to love someone else. Someone else learning how to love you. Being flawed, accepted and safe.

Choosing what feels good over what looks good. Living on your own terms. Letting go of repression. Forgiving yourself. Unburdening yourself from shame. Offering yourself acceptance, understanding, solidarity, compassion. Having the safety and self-assurance to offer the same to others. Refusing to assimilate, and choosing to be authentic instead. Being in a room for the first time, where conflict and disagreement is safe. Being flawed and vulnerable and embraced. Waking up one day and realising you’re not afraid all the time anymore.

#poetry #spilled ink #personal growth #gratitude #venus writes

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jcbbby · 2 years ago

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Happy Halloween (Jamie Campbell Bower x Reader)

A little Halloween short, idea courtesy of @lma1986. :)

"Hey, those are for the kiddos!" You scolded Jamie as you came into the living room carrying popcorn and two cans of seltzer waters, catching him reaching into the big plastic cauldron of candy.

"I only wanted one peanut butter cup!" He playfully whined.

It was Halloween, a time you and Jamie looked forward to starting all the way in August. You both loved the autumn, spooky things, and it was always so fun seeing the trick or treaters come up in their costumes throughout the night. Every year, you decorated the house and doorstep and bought all the best types of candy and chocolates for the kids,. Jamie, being the chocolate fiend he is, always tried to sneak pieces from the candy bowl when you weren't looking. You put down the popcorn and drinks to grab the cauldron of candy and held it close to you.

"You're literally taking candy from babies right now, you monster." You teased.

"Surely one wouldn't make a difference..." He flashed you the dreaded puppy dog eyes he knew you couldn't say no to.

You rolled your eyes, reaching in to grab the peanut butter cup he was after. "Fine...but if we run out of these and some poor excited little kid asks if we have any more because it's their favorite...you have to tell them you ate the last one." You handed him the chocolate.

"Deal." He smiled, happily unwrapping it and popping the whole thing in his mouth.

You set the candy bowl back down on the coffee table, chuckling at how the simplest of pleasures makes Jamie smile.

"Anyway, how do you like my costume?" You asked, giving a little twirl to show your all-white ensemble with a single big yellow circle on your shirt, with devil horns.

He looked at you, confusion seeping through his expression. "I...I don't get it."

"I'm a deviled egg!" You threw out jazz hands.

"Oh my god..." Jamie brought his hand to his face, trying not to laugh at your ridiculous pun.

"And where's your costume?" You asked, looking him up and down, dressed casually in black joggers and a white tank top.

"I'm going to wear my unicorn onesie. I figure I might as well be cozy for a Halloween in." He smiled. "And I'm sure the kids'll get a kick out of it."

You were having a movie marathon while staying home to pass out candy this year. It had been a busy last few Halloweens with Jamie's schedule and work, so you thought it sounded nice to just relax at home this year. You had a play list of movies on deck, Halloween, Rosemary's Baby, Hereditary, IT, and you had bargained for one fun festive movie thrown in there, so The Addams Family was also in the mix.

Once Jamie had gotten into his unicorn onesie, you dimmed the lights and lit a festive scented candle. The two of you settled on to the couch with the popcorn and started the original Halloween on the TV. You nuzzled up to Jamie as he put an arm around you, and grabbed a fistful of popcorn with his free hand. You liked scary movies, but they really did their job with you, you always had to sleep with a light on after watching them. Jamie always chuckled when you would need to close or cover your eyes during a particularly scary part, he thought it was adorable.

About 30 minutes into the movie, the doorbell rang.

"Here we go!" Jamie exclaimed with a smile and hopped up off the couch, grabbing the cauldron of candy, excited to greet the trick or treaters.

You clapped your hands together and hopped up to follow him to the door. On your doorstep, there was a group of three children and a smiling adult holding a very young toddler. The kids were dressed as a witch, a skeleton, and a vampire. The toddler, who couldn't have been more than two, being held was dressed in an adorable pumpkin costume.

"Trick or treat!" The kids yelled in unison, excitedly.

"Oh my goodness, look at these scary costumes!" Jamie exclaimed.

"You all look so great!" You smiled. "Are you having a fun Halloween?"

"Yeah!" They agreed.

"Ooh, you're a unicorn!" The one dressed as a witch giggled.

"I am! Do you like unicorns?" Jamie smiled. The girl nodded. "Me too! And you know what, I also like witches! I think witches should get candy."

Jamie bent down and held out the cauldron to them. They each took their turn reaching in and grabbing a piece of candy, politely saying thank you as the turned to let the next kid take one. Jamie stood back up and looked up to the toddler.

"Hi there, would you like to take a piece too?" His voice pitched up and his face softened. "Is that alright?" He looked to the adult.

"Do you want to pick a piece of candy too, honey?" The adult asked the young one. The toddler nodded, a little too nervous to speak in the presence of strangers.

Jamie smiled and slowly approached, holding up the candy bowl to the toddler's level. They softly reached a tiny hand into the cauldron, pulling out a red lollipop.

"Ooh, that's a good choice!" You smiled to the little one.

"Happy Halloween, guys! Enjoy your candy!" You and Jamie waved as they turned and walked down to the sidewalk, on their way to the next house.

Closing the door, Jamie put the candy bowl on a small table by the entry way, ready for the next group of kids. You both turned to smile at each other.

"That little pumpkin baby, are you kidding me!" Your hands flew up to your chest over your heart. "You were so cute with them." You walked up and slinked your arms around him at his waist, pulling him in.

He smiled back and wrapped his arms around you too. "One day, we'll have our own little pumpkin baby to take trick or treating." He kissed your forehead.

You leaned back a bit. "Or baby deviled egg." You smirked.

Jamie threw his hands in the air and made his way back to the couch. "Nope. Absolutely not." He chuckled.

You skipped back to the couch after him giggling to yourself, and plunked down next to him, resuming your positions snuggled up together. The night went on as you were happily interrupted by the doorbell over and over, passing out candy to droves of kids. As the clock wound down to the later hours, it had been over 45 minutes since any trick or treaters came by. You were now lying across the couch, resting your head in Jamie's lap, his hand draped over your torso. You felt him lean forward a little, causing you to look up at him. He was peering into the candy cauldron. You sighed and let out a soft chuckle.

"I think it's safe now babe, go ahead." You lifted yourself off his lap to sit up, stretching lightly.

Jamie smiled and reached in, grabbing a couple miniature Hershey bars. You tipped the bowl towards you, taking stock of what was left, and grabbing a mini package of Starbursts for yourself as well.

"Happy Halloween." Jamie leaned over gently nudging you with his shoulder.

"Happy Halloween." You smiled, and nudged him back.

The End! it's short, I know. but hopefully you enjoyed. :)

#jamie campbell bower fluff #jamie campbell bower #jamie bower #jamie campbell bower imagine #jamie campbell bower fanfic #jamie campbell bower x reader #jamie campbell bower x you

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mercurygray · 2 years ago

Text

The Darkening Sky - Chapter 40

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Characters: Original Female Character(s), Lewis Nixon, Richard Winters, Harry Welsh, Ensemble Cast

Additional Tags: Alternate History, Women Being Awesome, Women in the Military, World War II, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

“Some will say that it is a sad state of affairs when a country asks its women to go to war. But there is nothing sad about patriotism, and from coast to coast, America’s women have answered the call in record-breaking numbers, happy and willing to serve in all branches of the service - including, if the posters are to be believed, an entirely new co-ed parachute infantry unit."

---

It was the time of year for lists.

Christmas was like that, generally - that big calendar on the wall about the Christmas play and the church decorating, and what overtime shifts Doris had picked up at Field’s. There would be a list for the grocer and the toy store, trying to see how she could split her savings and make sure there was a present for everyone and still have money for candles at church. A list of all the shopping days until Christmas, hung on the wall of the break room so the clerks could all gaze longingly at December 26th over their coffee and look forward to the silence of January.

[catch up on the story and read more here on AO3!]

#the darkening sky #band of brothers fanfiction #careful guys it's a heavy one

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miekasa · 3 years ago

Note

cowboy/southern jean😫

i’m not the type for yeeyee type guys but jean will definitely make me do a double take. the manners, the hospitality, the sly pet names when he’s got a crush on you (which i think you touched on before)😫

see jean doing:

sorting and stacking hay in the barn

speaking of hay on tiktok last fall white farmer boys were beefing about their hay and it was the best😭 i could see him getting into a spat abt that

HORSE MAN but we already knew this!!!

cowboy/heavy duty boots and a hat has to be added to the ensemble sometimes i fear, it’s a small price to pay, really

see him feeding the farm cats in the morning

just really great with animals overall😫

ugh stawpppp this makes me think of small town things, he’d def take you to the town festival as a date

great cook but we knew this!!!

he probably accidentally tracks hay inside the house sometimes

chopping wood for the fire place omg

i feel like most-if not every food product in his house is homemade by his farm or another, really takes pride in agriculture

see: frozen/fast food slander (shut up, what does he know about a taco bell steak chalupa with no tomatoes🙄). with the exception of a few places, i also think he loves a good cafe and little joints like that

always brings you something back🥲

FLANNEL/ THERMAL TYPE GUYDJFNCNXNXNSJDNDNNDJDNFNF

he’s got a thing for candles, maybe after a couple purchases he learns to make them on his own

i definitely see him having a creative outlet with arts and crafts but he’s taking it to the grave

coffee drinker, drags eren for surviving off monsters (bye they taste like battery acid to me, where the sugar, huh?! original red bull supremacy!)

ugh and he’s just so responsible, doing his chores around the house, upkeeping the house and the farm, GIVE HIM TO ME

bye i just realized that out science teacher gave us an extension till 11:59 PM again yesterday (it is now 12:30 AM, for I am eternally damned), and i missed the deadline- AGAIN, so guess what? I’m gonna watch saiki AGAIN🤪

- 🥖 anon

STOPP THE WAY I WAS THINKING ABOUT THIS OTHER DAY he’s the only country bumpkin I’d let hit 😚😚

No because just imagine how jacked he is from doing all that farm work… working out was basically built into his day: lifting things off and onto his truck, pushing shit around, building new pens for the animals and just generally fixing up things around the house for his mom. His arms… his thighs… his chest because you know damn well in the summer he forgoes a shirt.

The frozen food slander stop thats so accurate, why would he let you eat that when he could make you something from scratch. He also probably physically can’t even digest it that well since it’s not what he’s used to it’s kinda funny he’d get folded by Taco Bell so quickly please.

So good with animals, he’s basically been raising this one horse since he was 12 and it’s absolutely his baby; he’s good at nursing injured animals back to health and has a soft spot for them. You notice then when you first meet him at uni, and you don’t piece together why he’s that good with animals until he talks about having raised a few back home… then things start falling into place. You don’t know why he was embarrassed to tell you he essentially grew up on a small ranch at first, but you’re glad you finally know.

When he takes you back to his mom’s place for the first time, you can tell just how much love and care Jean’s put into the place. His mom points out all the work he’s done, tells you stories of Jean getting chased by the farm dogs when he was younger, shows you some of his earlier arts and crafts ventures. The place is a little too small for Jean—he has to duck into the door frames, he can easily step over some of the fences in the front yard, his knees hit the table when he sits, but it’s home and he’s happy here and he’s happy you seem to love it too.

#the coffee thing is so accurate too and he takes it so mf seriously #‘there’s an art to brewing it babe’ like jean i’m barely listening i’m just watching you be sexy #him making candles I WILL EAT MY HAND SHUTUPPPPPPPP #and when he takes you horseback riding and falls in love with you all over again bc of how gentle you are w the horse ><#my little french farm boy <333333 #ANON PLEADE YOUR POOR ASSIGNMENTS 😭😭#jean x reader #jean.ask

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collecting-stories · 5 years ago

Text

First Time - John B Routledge

Request: Could you write a John b imagine where y’all have been dating for a while and he wants to take the next step in the relationship (do the dirty lol) but he doesn’t know your a virgin so you distance yourself from him a little bit and he’s all worried that he did something wrong. But when he asks kie she tells him that his gf is a virgin and is afraid she won’t be good enough and live up to his past hookups. You finally tell him and then y’all do it (smut?) and it’s all cute/romantic/fluffy. 

A/N: Smut.

Outer Banks Masterlist

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

You and John B had a ‘full disclosure’ relationship. He didn’t want any secrets and neither did you. In theory it was a great idea, in practice it was a little harder to manage. And it wasn’t so much that you were keeping a secret from him as you were just withholding information that was immediately important to the future of your relationship. 

In other words, John B had been dropping hints that he wanted to have sex but he didn’t know that you were a virgin. It would have been one thing if you weren’t ready, you would’ve told him outright that you didn’t want to have sex yet, it was too soon, but the truth was you were ready. You had been together for the better part of a year, longer than any of your friends had waited to have sex and you were still not there yet. 

“It’s not that I don’t want to have sex, I mean, I think about it all the time. I was thinking about it earlier today when we were out surfing.” Not knowing which else to talk to you’d unloaded all your feelings about John B on Kiara. Who was understanding and interested, to a point. 

“Gross. Now I’m just gonna think about you thinking about having sex with John B every time we’re together.” Kiara pointed out. 

“Well I am! And can you blame me. I have a super hot boyfriend and I know he’s had sex before!” 

“Have you not?” 

“No.” You had dated a few guys before but either the relationship didn’t last long enough or you weren’t comfortable enough with them to want to take the next step. “I don’t want it to be some thing where it’s just cause everyone else is and then we break up three days later.” 

All in all the only step you saw as an option moving forward was avoidance. Full disclosure was fine when the thing you had to tell him didn’t set you back in experience. You’d heard JJ talk about different escapades of his own and John B always seemed to joke and laugh about them as if he had done all the same things. And you knew how wild pogue parties got sometimes, you’d been to them before John B had gotten together with you and could remember wishing secretly that you could be bold enough to fully take part. You knew girls flirted with him and anyone of them was probably ten times more experienced than you. 

Even Kiara was more experienced than you. Not that you were entirely surprised by that. You were pretty sure everyone had already gotten that first awkward time out of the way so they could actually enjoy sex. But not you. You wanted it to mean something, even if it was awkward, and you wanted your second time to be with the same person. 

Which was never going to happen because you avoided John B like the plague when you realized what he wanted. You avoided him until he made it impossible to avoid him any longer. 

It was on a Friday night, when you were home alone watching reruns of a Disney Channel show that you were too old for and attempting to finish a pizza by yourself when he showed up, banging at the door. Everyone was supposed to be down at the boneyard for a party that you claimed to be too sick to go to. In truth, you didn’t want to see John B and figured the best way to do that was to stay home. 

Except, of course, he knew where you lived and he was a good enough boyfriend to know something was the matter. 

You stood staring for a full five seconds before you said anything and then it only consisted of, “what are you doing here?” Not the most intelligent of ways to start a conversation with someone you’d been avoiding. 

“Look I don’t know if you’re trying to breakup with me or something. I talked to Kiara and she said I needed to talk to you so if that’s it then just get it over with, please?” John B said, standing in the doorway looking desperate. 

He’d been racking his brain for weeks trying to figure out why you had suddenly started pulling away. John B was sure everything was fine. You told each other everything so what was going on that you felt like you couldn’t tell him all of the sudden. 

“I’m not trying to break up with you.” You said, though that would’ve been the easy way out. If you didn’t break up with each other than he would never know that you were a virgin...an elaborate scheme in which neither party got what they wanted but you had been watching a lot of kids tv until just now. 

“You’ve been avoiding me.” 

“I know, I’m sorry.” You let him come inside, shutting the door and moving passed him into the living room to clean up. You were embarrassed enough that he had shown up, he didn’t need to witness your attempts at eating your feelings. 

“I don’t understand what happened,” he admitted, “did I do something wrong?” 

“No, no, it’s not...it’s me.” You sighed, dropping the pizza box back onto the coffee table, full disclosure your only option, “I know we said we’d tell each other everything but I was avoiding you cause I didn’t want you to find out that I’m a virgin.” 

“That’s it?”

“John B! It’s a big deal.”

“Okay yes sorry, but if that’s it, if you feel like I’ve been pressuring you-“ he immediately thought of all the times in the past weeks that he’s hinted toward wanting to have sex and suddenly couldn’t help worrying that he’d come off as pushy and impatient when he hadn’t meant to be. 

“No, no. You’re not pressuring me. I want to I just...you’re more experienced than me and I thought if you knew, if you saw that I was inexperienced you’d not want to be with me.” And you really didn’t want to die a virgin. 

“I don’t care about that. I mean, I do...care about you feeling comfortable and safe but not about whether or not you’re a virgin.” John B said, “I may have experience with other girls but not with you. This is new for both of us.” 

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped at his words, “you’re so cheesy sometimes.” 

John B rolled his eyes at you. “How about we just take things slow, watch tv or something? Nothing has to happen tonight.” 

You knew that was true but you weren’t exactly committed to the tv. “Can we watch TV in my room? I’ll just clean up?” You offered. 

“Of course,” John B headed down the hall to your bedroom while you fixed the living room and put the pizza in the kitchen 

You weren’t wearing the cutest ensemble in the world but it would do. John B had seen you in worse than your tie dye pyjama set. In your room John B had taken the clothes off your bed and thrown them onto your desk chair. Though neither of you had expressly said you were going to do anything other than watch movies together it was obvious that neither of you cared to bother with movies. 

“Do you remember when I told you the cheesiest thing you had ever done was fake breaking down and then producing a fully prepared picnic for us to star gaze in that field?” You asked, leaning against the door frame of your bedroom, arms crossed under your chest.

“I remember that you told me it was romantic.” He said, taking a seat on the edge of your bed, pocketing the lighter he’d used to light the candles on your nightstand, desk, and bookshelf. 

“Romantic, cheesy, this definitely takes the cake.” You replied, walking over to him. You stood between his legs and put your hands on his shoulders, the nervous energy you’d had around him lately bursting into butterflies in your stomach as you leaned down to kiss him. 

This was really happening. 

John B wrapped his arm around your waist and used his other arm to pull himself back further on the bed as you climbed onto his lap. Your hands went in his hair, tugging at the ends of his curls as you kissed him. You kept telling yourself that you’d done this a million times, there were multiple scenarios in which the two of you made out in your room. The only difference this time was that you didn’t want to stop him when he pulled your shirt over your head.

The heat, coupled with the fact that you had been totally alone watching TV and eating pizza meant you had forgone wearing a bra, something you thought was totally obvious but that John B clearly wasn’t expecting. He’d been eying your chest when he pulled your top off but he snapped back up to look at you when he realized you weren’t wearing a bra.

“You can look.” You laughed, jokingly taking his face between your hands and tilting it down toward your chest. “but don’t just look.”

He glanced back up at you, leaning forward and kissing you briefly before he looked back down at your chest hands moving up your sides gently fondling your breasts.

“You are so beautiful,” he said, kissing you one more time.

His thumbs ran over your nipples, still a little soft, fingers pressing into the soft skin. He leaned his head forward and your arms draped over his shoulders again, tilting your head and back just enough to give him full access to you.

John B kissed your neck, lips trailing down your skin. He laid a chaste kiss in between your breasts before he turned his attention to the left side first. His tongue darted out, tracing a circle around your nipple before closing his mouth over it. The sensation made you arch your back more, pushing yourself into him. You rolled your hips the way you’d seen girls do before, grinding against him. His right hand gripped your hip suddenly, maybe a little too forcefully, and you leaned forward again, hands gripping his shoulders.

Without warning you pushed him back on the bed, his head just missing the wall that your bed was pushed up against and his eyes went wide. You climbed off his lap, taking a tentative breath and reminding yourself that this was John B and he loved you.

“Holy shit,” his voice came out as a whisper when you pushed your shorts and underwear down at the same time, stepping out of them and standing, totally naked, in front of him. It took all of three seconds before he was sliding off the bed and guiding you back to it.

“What are you doing?” You laughed and he pushed you to lie down, your legs hanging off the edge of the bed.

“Eating you out, if that’s okay with you?” He said, pulling his shirt over his head, “it’ll help you not hurt as much the first time.”

“Can’t say no to that.” You propped yourself up on your elbows, watching as John B dropped to his knees at the edge of your bed. He kissed your left knee and then your right before lifting your legs over his shoulders.

He started on the left side, kissing your inner thigh and sucking on the skin there as he made his way toward the apex of your legs. As he got closer you shifted, moving yourself toward him ever so slightly. He wound one arm up and laid it across your waist, pushing you into the bed. “Stay still baby,” as he spoke his lips brushed across the soft skin where your thigh met your center. John B hovered for a moment over your core, breath fanning out over you and making you shiver slightly.

“John B...” you whined, both annoyed and aroused by the slow pace that he was keeping.

He shushed you, playfully nipping the skin of your right knee and you dropped your head against the bed at the feeling of him so far away from where you needed him.

“John,” you stretched your right arm out, brushing through his hair before gathering a section in your hand and yanking just enough to get his attention, “you’re going so slow.”

“I’m savoring the moment,” he replied, laying his cheek against your thigh, stopping altogether.

“Savor faster.”

“Okay.” He shrugged, your legs bouncing slightly, before he leaned forward and licked up to your clit, sucking it between his lips. You smacked your hand against the bed before gripping the comforter in your free hand, the feeling of his mouth on you more than you had ever experienced. He swirls his tongue around your clit once more and then slowly drags his teeth against the sensitive nub, smiling when you sucked in a sharp breath and whimpered.

John B licks over your clit again and the hand you have in his hair tightens as you try to push him closer to you. He let go of his grip on your leg and without warning, slips his finger inside you. A series of ‘oh my gods’ falls from your lips as he slow pulls out, only to add a second finger. He continues to suck your clit as he pushes his fingers in and out, angling them up as he did. You don’t last long, when he bites down on your clit again you clench around his fingers and cry out, coming hard. John B licks and kisses you as you come off your high, unable to stop the smile that crosses his face as you spasm around his fingers when he pulls them out.

Trying to catch your breath you pick your head up to look at him, still kneeling between your legs. His eyes meet yours and he pops his fingers in his mouth, licking your cum off them and grinning at you as he does. His lips and chin are glistening slightly in the candlelight of your bedroom and as cheesy as you told him it was before you’re incredibly turned on right now.

“Do you want to keep going?” John B asks, carefully shifting your legs off his shoulders, kissing each of your thighs. He stands up, waiting for your signal to keep going with the night.

“I swear to god if you stop now-” you said, still somewhat dazed as you looked up at him.

He nods and undoes his pants, sliding them down his legs first, pushing them and his socks off at the ankles before looking back at you. He kneels onto the bed beside you, slipping one arm beneath your legs and the other beneath your head before he shifts you so your head is laying at the top of the bed. You let out a surprised squeak as you were moved, grabbing his arm to steady yourself.

“Sorry, just want you to be comfortable.” He apologizes, pressing a kiss to your lips. The kiss is saltier than before and you realize your tasting yourself on him. You poke your tongue out, running along his lower lip before taking it between your teeth and tugging gently.

Once he pulled away from the kiss he stood again, slipping off his underwear before moving onto the bed, resting between your legs. His eyes closed and he bit his lip, groaning as his dick slipped between your folds. John B rolled his hips, pressing himself further against you, brushing your clit as he did. You grabbed his shoulders in surprise, pulling him closer.

“Please John B, I need you,” you begged, lips brushing against his ear.

He held himself up his elbow using his other hand to pull one of your hands away from his shoulders. He guided both your hand and his between your bodies, wrapping your hand around his dick. You ran your hand up and down, fingers a little loose around him but he didn’t seem to mind, eyes closing again as his hand tightened on your wrist.

“That feels amazing,” he muttered, pressing kisses along your neck and collar.

“Should I-”

“I won’t last,” he admitted, moving his hand back to cover yours. He opened his eyes, looking right at you as he helped you guide him inside of you. He pressed in slowly, watching you for any sign of discomfort. His fingers laced with yours and he pressed your hand into the bed above your head, leaning down to kiss you as you adjusted to the feeling of him inside you. “I love you,” he said, kissing along your jaw.

“I love you too.” You said, tilting your head to catch his mouth in another kiss.

Slowly, John B began to move his hips against yours, pressing kisses against your neck as he did. You moaned, nails pressing into his back at the feeling of him sliding out and back in. He picked up the pace, sucking a bruise into the skin of your neck. He released your other hand, moving his hand down between your bodies and pressing his thumb against your clit. Your nails dug in more and you practically screamed as felt yourself coming again so quickly. John B thrust faster, pushing himself over the edge just after you, not lasting nearly as long as he usually did. The feeling of being with you for the first time too much for him.

As you caught your breath, he pressed kisses against you collar and the top of your breasts. He pulled out slowly, savoring the feeling of you spasming around him as he did, your eyes shut tight and your breathing labored. He kissed you one last time before he rolled over, laying beside you.

“Are you okay?” he asked, rolling onto his side and propping himself up on his side and running his free hand along your stomach, feeling your muscles tense and then relax under his touch.

You hummed, smiling at him, eyes clouded in a haze. “Amazing.”

“Good,” he kissed you. “I love you.”

taglist: @maplelattes22 @poguesrforlife @freckled-and-daydreaming @chasefreakinstokes @millie-753 @fangirlwithme @alex12948 @howdyherron @katherine097 @tangledinsparkles @tragicmisfits @carbonated-beverage @mariofgreengables @damonsalvawhore27 @dopedoodes @dolanfivsosxox @belledutchess @poguelifeeee @jjsthumbring @faded-blue @parkerpetertingle @thebookwormlife @summer-clouds-and-long-days @jellyfishbeansontoast @minigranger @louisolos @hoewkeye @love-someone-special @finecelle @vitaminekabc @tiredfeels @g4bster @strangerthanfanfiction713 @the-only-nana @tomzfrog @mozz-are-lla @vindictive-hearts @poguestyleskye @ssprayberrythings @pensysto @jenahbell @beautyandthebleh @lavenderxraindrops @gothackedalready @teenwaywardasgardian @sarahcxmeron @hvitost @haha-fuck-you-thot @stillbelieve398-5 @rewindlr @queenniccimicci @kissessforharryyy @thedarkqueenofavalon @alytavzla @bqmblebee @linniep @nerdypartytrashpsychic @xxchxrryxx @spencer-reid-is-a-cutie @mirjanak @kwjune @danielladreaming @obx-saltlife @youngestxhearts @spnobsessedmemes @wowitswondergurl @siwiecola @regev1408 @celestialmaybank @mybnkjj @averagxfangirl @mysterious-adventurer @justawilddreamerchild @rhyetaylor62 @calm-rejects @99sxuxii @oh-annaa @katiaw2 @aiifandomsunite @marteenuhh08 @x-lulu @kitkat0609 @ceruleanjj @yoxsh06 @wicked-laugh @obxwriterfan @justkeepdreamingswift @allie-mcginn @jjmaybankswife @literarycharleton @khiaraaa-in-spacee @crushe-s @teamnick @daydreamlilys @poguesnobx @collectiveuniverses @activist-af @mdgrdians @buckys-sunflower @copper-boom

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alotsgonnachange · 4 years ago

Text

Fan apprentice Bios

for the alotsgonnachange/the arcana cinematic universe that eye personally believe to be better than the original game...

Name: Isabella Ciccino

Meaning: Promise of God

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Height: 5′10

Birthday: October 28th

Star sign: Scorpio

MBTI: ISFJ-T

Patron Arcana: Justice

Sexuality: Lesbian

Favorite Food: Lemon chicken orzo

Drink: White wine (Vinho Verde)

Magical abilities: Plant care/recognition (green witch), Foraging

Ethnicity: A small rocky/mediterranean esque island off the coast of Venterre that would strongly resemble sicily and malta.

Family: Mother, Angela Ciccino (deceased). Younger sister, Annamaria Ciccino (deceased)

Backstory: WIP

Occupation: Seamstress/tailor

Hobbies: Ballet, reading, drinking wine, dancing, tending to plants

Familiar: None (for now i guess??)

Love Interest: Nadia

Description: Isabella is a mysterious and alluring magician. To most people she is kind and charming, but private. She is incredibly helpful and caring to those she is friends with and cares about and will drop what she’s doing to assist. Likes to do quiet introspective work like reading, sewing, knitting and caring for plants. She’s a bit of a homebody in that sense. She comes across as level-headed and assertive in formal settings and does not allow others to talk down to her. With friends, she is a bit more sassy and teasing. She hates answering personal questions and has strict boundaries, which can lead to her being standoffish and stubborn at times.

As a Love Interest: Very loyal and committed, generally very gentle towards whoever she is seeing. You are going to have to get her to open the fuck up though she’s not good at being vulnerable AT ALL. The type of gf who may or may not qualify as a therapist/mother which…yikes. needs to work through her fear of intimacy before she can have a healthy relationship awwww 5/10

___

Name: Danielle Dupont

Meaning: God is my judge

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Height: 5′6

Birthday: September 7th

Star sign: Virgo

MBTI: ENFP-A

Patron Arcana: The Sun

Sexuality: Bi

Favorite food: Pain au Chocolat (Chocolatine for my canadians…)

Favorite drink: Espresso or a good wheaty ale

Magical Abilities: Sexual magic, chemistry/potionmaking, candle magic, topical balms/solutions

Ethnicity: Whatever the Arcana equivalent is of like. Western Europe germanic? A country including but not limited to Germany, France, Belgium, Luxembourg, Switzerland. Who cares really she is white and an Orphan

Family: Orphan!

Backstory: WIP

Occupation: Shop owner who sells potions, balms, candles and various other uhhh items usually of the purpose of sex (literally think a modern day sex shop with dildos and shit but also candles and skincare too)

Hobbies: Socializing, singing, making/testing potions, foraging, baking

Familiar: None, is in fact frightened of several animals due to trauma :(

Love interest: Lucio (Her taste is questionable and that’s okay!), also portia

Description: Danielle is a cunning and animated witch. She’s outgoing, bright and carries herself with confidence. In the past this has made her friends and enemies alike. She’s charming but can be a bit of a trickster. Her demeanor is generally calm and she does not often experience strong anger. She’s very smart and dedicated to her craft, and she is a perfectionist. As a worker, she gives excellent customer service and is a good saleswoman. To her friends, she’s teasing and wild, but loving and encouraging. On her worst days, she has the potential to be a bit more inconsiderate and is not the best at handling huge displays of emotions from others.

As a Love Interest: Girlllll…. first of all she needs to stop being emotionally stunted! My good sis cannot handle open displays of emotion at all and tends to shut down! The physical aspects are all there and excellent and she is going to be sweet, caring and loving but she needs to take things more seriously and be able to talk about feelings!!! 3/10

____

Name: Jia Song

Meaning: In korean it’s “clear” or “good”

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/her

Height: 5’5”

Birthday: August 5th

Star sign: Leo

MBTI: ENFJ-A

Sexuality: Bi

Favorite Food: Pulled pork or a good seasoned steak

Drink: limeade

Magical Abilities: Potions/herbs and healing

Ethnicity: Her father is from the same country as Ki (in a modern AU, this would be like. Korea.) and her mother is from somewhere uhhhh near nopal or something. Warm tropical nice (in a modern au this would be Brazil), but she grew up in her mother's country.

Family: I don't currently have names but basically, her father, mother, aunt (deceased) and two younger brothers.

Backstory: will be linked coming soon

Occupation: Healer, researcher, linguist

Hobbies: Dancing, reading, adventuring

Familiar: None

Love Interest: Julian

Description: Jia is a bright and curious magician. She’s a bit nerdy and loves reading/learning new disciplines. She is an energetic and altruistic person who is liked by many. She comes off as kind and forthcoming. She is very helpful and if she can’t help directly she will find someone who can with her connections. To her friends, she is loyal and sweet and affectionate, but also has the potential to be grumpy and even a bit negative. She’s very determined in hard situations and won’t back down until things are made right. Despite this, she can potentially overthink and overestimate situations and is incredibly stubborn when she wants to be.

As a romantic partner: loving, but definitely also able to keep independence. Not necessarily a stage 5 clinger but somewhere in the middle. She will love just spending lots of time with a partner and just picking their brain and learning everything she can from them. The type to brag about them to her friends. A wonderful listener but give her a chance to speak too she likes talking a lot as well! 10/10 would recommend

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Name: Ki (Kiyoung) Kim

Meaning: Debatable but Ki alone means arisen and i’m getting “Vigor and eternal” But i think names differ based on the characters u use i am not korean so take this with a grain of salt

Gender: Nonbinary i think...

Pronouns: He/him or they/them doesn't have a preference

Height: 5′8″ Short king

Birthday: February 27th

Star sign: Pisces

MBTI: INFP-T

Sexuality: Gay

Favorite food: Budae Jjigae or Yongeun jorim

Favorite drink: any alcoholic beverage where you can’t taste the alcohol and strawberry milk

Magical Ability: Divination and mediumship (idk what the proper term is) so he can communicate with spirits/the dead

Ethnicity: Think of a small nation veeeery far away from Vesuvia that's cold for a lot of the year (for reference, think Korea).

Family: a twin sister named Jiyoung, 3 older sisters (Jiwoo, Jeongyeon, Joonhwa), mother and father and paternal grandfather and maternal grandmother who are living.

Backstory: will be linked coming soon

Occupation: Musician - mostly guitar and piano. Enjoys instrument care, arranging and performing in large ensembles, not a soloist by any means. He’s a great singer but he’s shy and singing gives him anxiety

Hobbies: Playing guitar, composing/arranging, reading, writing, shopping

Familiar: a tiny white dragon named Egg. Idc if dragons exist in this world but i feel like they HAVE to..

Love Interest: Asra

Description: Ki is a perceptive and witty magician. To most he comes off as a bit anxious and shy, which he is. Once you get past that, he’s eager, forthcoming and empathetic. He is very kind and likes to believe people have good intentions. He is very helpful and always tries to make sure others are comfortable and happy. He enjoys music and learning musical instruments. He prefers to work more in the background so as to not draw attention to himself. With his friends, he’s actually very talkative, silly and goofy. He’s prone to anxiety and may tense up or feel attacked when put into frightening situations. Unfortunately he has self destructive tendencies and low self esteem and has a hard time due to that.

As a Love Interest: perfect little s/o shut the FUCK UP…. that is if u can deal with low self esteem and anxiety! He really really tries though! He’s also shy with physical affection but will warm up to it eventually with familiarity and trust. Very doting and randomly shows up with delicious food and takes care of u when ur sick. 8/10

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Name: Mathilde “Tilly” LaRue

Meaning: Mighty In Battle? Lol

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/her

Height: 5’11

Birthday: January 16

Star Sign: Capricorn

MBTI: INTP-A

Sexuality: Bi

Favorite Food: Lentil soup

Drink: Black coffee

Magical Abilities: Divination, telekinesis, herbs, defensive magic

Ethnicity: From a large urban area with a large population somewhere in an area a bit cooler and rainier than Vesuvia. (think like. England)(in a modern AU think Afro-caribbean)

Family: Mother and Mother and an older sister named Topaz

Backstory: will be linked coming soon

Occupation: Court Magician (but like simply a well rounded witch who goes wherever the money is)

Hobbies: Exploring, foraging, reading

Familiar: A white ferret named Elle

Love Interest: Muriel

Description: Mathilde is a gentle and thoughtful magician. She is soft-spoken and hates raising her voice, and is often making bizarre and thought provoking side comments in most situations. She is curious and intuitive when it comes to magic and often able to use several methods to predict the future for others. She carries herself in a dreamlike/contemplative manner and does not really care what others think - She’s off in her own world. With friends, she has a good source of humor and gives good advice and is a very good listener. She has an affinity for animals and nature, and would generally prefer to be outside. She can tend to be unrealistic and naive and loses hold on her emotions in tough situations (angry crier…) and feels misunderstood by those around her.

As a love interest: Downright adorable. Sweet, will bring you cool items she found and very endearing. She’s also encouraging and surprisingly cheesy. Not outwardly clingy but if you let her she will. but good fucking luck starting to date her! She is extremely pretty and gets asked out almost every day, turning down 99.999999% of applicants because other people do not particularly interest her and her taste is insanely picky! 10/10 but FAT CHANCE

#my art #bios #my text #the arcana #fan apprentice #ki #tilly #danielle #isabella #jia #refs

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