#flowering hearts || sage

[greenleaf4stuff]

Is it just me or would Nightwish's "Nemo" be a really good (dare I say, perfect) song for Adar?

So I started doing the little "your url in song titles" post and accidentally (re-)discovered a song that would fit really well for Adar imo, and wanted to share. Lyrics below the cut, each time I read them I find new ways they would fit him:

This is me for forever One of the lost ones The one without a name Without an honest heart as compass This is me for forever One without a name These lines, the last endeavor To find the missing lifeline

Oh, how I wish For soothing rain All I wish is to dream again My loving heart Lost in the dark For hope, I'd give my everything

My flower, withered between The pages two and three The once and forever bloom gone with my sins Walk the dark path Sleep with angels Call the past for help Touch me with your love And reveal to me my true name

Oh, how I wish For soothing rain All I wish is to dream again My loving heart Lost in the dark For hope, I'd give my everything

Oh, how I wish For soothing rain Oh, how I wish to dream again Once and for all And all for once Nemo, my name forevermore

Nemo sailing home Nemo letting go

Oh, how I wish For soothing rain All I wish is to dream again My loving heart Lost in the dark For hope, I'd give my everything Oh, how I wish For soothing rain Oh, how I wish to dream again Once and for all And all for once Nemo, my name forevermore

Name forevermore

[superbattle117]

Day 1 of plants vacation in Japan

Here's a plants is having fun festivals like catching fish, Japanese snacks and Japanese themed merchandise during Japanese festivals

[elinda96]

Bloodlines Collection

[wcvensouls]

when you're just pathetically in love, you can't stop posting about your boyfriend — featuring @sorrymcm .

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

lesson in words | s.r. x pregnant!fem reader

for some reason today, annabeth was not in the mood for her princess dresses or jelly shoes. she raised her voice when you were shuffling around her room, trying to find something appropriate for the aquarium. she didn’t want her sage green pants, or her lavender plaid shorts, not even her scratchy sparkling pink skirt.

“i want these!” kicking her legs in the air to indicate her unicorn pajama pants. you just sighed, not wanting to indulge her antics, “honey, those are house clothes. you sleep in those for a long time, they’re not appropriate for a day out. now, what’s our second choice?” leaning against her dresser with a fist beside your growing bump.

“unicorn! i want unicorn!” she jumped her body against her mattress, the springs creaking. a headache brewing behind your eyes, “annabeth diana reid,” you kept your voice stern and level, “if you can’t pick out day clothes then we can’t go to the aquarium. that means you can’t see the stingrays for another month.”

she pouted as she crossed her small arms over her chest, her hectic bed head another part you’ll have to deal with. “i hate you,” she said it mostly quiet, probably meant to be a whisper but doesn’t understand how that works yet.

you pursed your lips while diverting your eyes to the floor, “well i’m sorry you feel that way, but if you can’t fix your attitude and change your clothes then you can stay in your room for the day.” leaving your daughter behind as you headed to your shared bedroom where your husband was tidying the space.

he turned when you stepped on a specific creaky spot, he greeted you with a smile that dropped when you assumed he saw your upset pout and wet eyes. “what’s wrong?” quick to hurry at your side with his hands caressing your elbows.

“hormones mostly,” sniffling, “and annabeth has decided to be stubborn today and says she hates me cause i won’t allow her to wear her pjs out the house.” spilling what happen in the last five minutes as fat tears collected on your lash line, one blink and they slid down your pregnancy cheeks.

“oh honey,” spencer leaned your head into his chest, neglected nails curling into his navy polo. one of his hands slid along the back of your head to keep you hidden while his other rubbed soothing circles between your shoulder blades. “she doesn’t actually mean it.”

“i know i know,” you sniffled as you moved to place your ear to his heart, “just hurts having her say those words. she probably doesn’t understand the extent of its meaning.” taking a deep sigh as you gathered yourself to lean away from spencer.

“why don’t i go talk to her? try from a different perspective.” his warm palms rubbed at your upper arms as he stared softly into your wet eyes.

you sniffled, “she is a daddy’s girl. listens to you more no matter what.” chuckling wetly when spencer just shrugged. he pecked a kiss to your forehead and guided you to the made bed, telling you to rest for now as he went to talk with your four year old.

spencer knocked gentle on her cracked door, “can i come in?” both of you were making sure to teach the importance of knocking before entering a room. she almost caught the act of making her new siblings.

“yes,” she replied quietly. spencer slowly pushed open her decorated door, his head peaking in first before completely entering and closing them in.

his daughter lay in her bed, her flower comforter swallowing her. only a small lump shifting gave away her hiding spot, spencer took a seat at the foot of her twin.

he gave what felt like her calf a loving squeeze, “wanna come out and talk?” her small heel nudged into his knee, “no.” spencer could hear her pout.

“why not?” “cause i-i-i was a meanie to-to mommy,” annabeth began to hiccup through her words. spencer quickly pulled her sheets back and frowned at her rosy wet cheeks, along with a line of snot leaving her tiny nose.

“oh honey, come here.” spencer wrapped his arms behind her back as she threw hers around his neck. she crawled into his lap, her small legs stopping at his hips. “do we feel bad about our earlier emotions?” spencer rubbed a large palm in soothing circles.

“ye- yes. i-i want to see sti- stingrays, and i-i want to match with mo- my mommy.” her words a blubbering mess as she panicked over something small for the adults but other worldly for her child mind.

spencer cooed in her ear, “why don’t we go apologize first. see if she’ll accept.” he felt annabeth nod in agreement. he carried her the short distance to the master bedroom where you were laying on your back as your palms rubbed your stomach and you stared at the ceiling.

you turned your head at a small knock, your face softening at the sight before you. “someone has something to say,” spencer said as he let annabeth’s feet sit on the bed.

the young girl untangled from her father’s hold and slowly walked to sit beside you. you could hear her ragged inhales and frowned at her flushed face. “i- i- i am sorry for ye- yelling. i want to go to aquarium and you- you can help dress me, mo- mommy.” her tiny hands pulled at the helm of her sleep shirt.

you let a palm caress her warm cheek, “i was a little hurt when you said you hate me,” wanting to be truthful to your brilliant child.

her lip wobbled, “i- i didn’t mean it. i lo- love you with my whole body.” something you say to her to show your complete extent of affections. “i heard that it was an unkind word, i- i re- regret saying it.”

“i know you do, honey.” pulling her into your chest for an awkward side hug. “let’s be mindful of our words, alright? they’re very powerful.” petting down her hair, you felt her nod on your shoulder.

“are my two girls friends again?” spencer spoke up during the moment. he stayed near the edge of the room to give the both of you space.

you pressed a kiss into annabeth’s temple, “i think so. what about you bethie, do you want to wear matching overalls today?”

her eyes peeked at your through clumped lashes, “can- can we also do bows?”

you squeezed her side, “of course, bethie-boo.”

-

a/n: i took this idea from @khxna that they left on a post of mine. thank you for sharing💗

[smileysuh]

sage & stardust - TEASER

🌙 starring. Kim Mingyu x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “I think you’re amazing, and good with your hands, and pretty, and I enjoy spending time with you too,” he counters, echoing the entirety of your sentiment. You stare blankly up at the man. It’s clear he doesn’t know what you’re getting at. You wonder how fairies court each other- do they even court each other? Do fairies have sex? Or are they just… you don’t know, blossomed out of flower buds or something?

tw/cw. Unprotected sex, Mingyu holds y/n down by the wrists, size kink, mentions of possible bondage kink, heavy petting, worship, Mingyu is a boobs guy, nipple sucking, fingering, pussy stretching, foreplay, multiple reader orgasms, oral (f receiving), praise, dirty talk, etc… I pet names: (hers) my star. (his) Gyu.  

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 9.6k

🍭 aus. Fairy au, fantasy au, non idol. 

☀️ mlist + an. Okay, so, I’ve written sooo many fics on this blog, and lately I’ve been wanting to try things I haven’t done before. I’ve never done a legit small man fairy dude (who does become normal/large sized later) x yn in a fic before, so bare with me, because these two are such a delightfully domestic pairing. Without further adieu, I give you: blue-collar fairy Mingyu. 

Even you have to admit the space has ambiance. The solarium studio is a lovely part of the house, your favorite in fact, although, tonight, you’re feeling a little shy about your art strewn about.

“Did you paint all of these?” Mingyu asks, approaching your most recent work.

“Yeah, they’re uh, abstracts,” you explain. “I mean, I gather a lot of inspiration from nature, but it’s more a feeling than a specific thing that I like to paint, if that makes any sense.”

“It does,” Mingyu nods, leaning down to get a better look at your art. 

“My grandma, she uh, she was an artist too, and so was her mother, and she gave me the house because she knew I needed inspiration-”

“Maybe that’s why she gave you me too.”

Your heart lurches in your chest, and you blink up at the tall man. “Uh… maybe.”

“So this cottage has a long line of artists and tinkerers,” Mingyu concludes.

“The line ended in my mother’s generation,” you sigh.

“That’s not true.” Mingyu looks down at you. “We’re here now.”

☀️ to read the full fic AND 2.7k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here

👹 or wait till the fic is posted on tumblr Friday the 22nd of November 2024

🔮 see what’s already available to read on my m.list

interact to be tagged when the fic is posted, reblogs and replies will be prioritized

[muniimyg]

𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!yoongi (17) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

series m.list // taglist closed

note: i lied !! this is not the last written ,, but the 2nd to last !!! enj <3

tw: mommy issues

//

the party hums around you like static, but you keep glancing toward the patio doors. your fingers twist around the fabric of your dress as if pulling on it could pull yoongi back inside. 

you know why he left.

he didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to.

you saw segments of it. you saw the way his eyes shifted as your mom hooked her arm through jungkook’s, smiling at him like he was god’s gift to this family, cooing at him in a way she never cooed at yoongi.

it’s like she wasn’t even going to give him a chance. 

like there was no space for any consideration. 

it wasn’t jealousy. 

okay, well… maybe it is. 

the feeling is foreign to yoongi. he doesn’t do jealousy. at least, not really. but yet again, no one has ever mattered to him more than you. not to mention that this jealousy feels different. it’s something quieter—an ache he can’t recognize. 

when he finally comes back, relief washes over you. 

he smiles at you and tilts his head as he gets closer. without a word, you reach for him, your fingers curling lightly around his wrist, and he follows you as you lead him toward the cake. 

“get enough air?”

he nods. 

“sorry i stepped out.”

you shake your head and squeeze his wrist. yoongi’s heart lifts an inch, suddenly not feeling as down as before. your little gesture is all the reassurance he needs. 

then, your attention shifts as nam joon steps in and places a cake in front of you. the pastel display is perfect—a tower of soft yellows and sage greens, delicate edible flowers, and tiny footprints decorating the frosting. you stand together in front of it, your hand brushing against his as murmurs ripple through the crowd, the excitement building.

“jiun!” you call out into the crowd, “did you make this? it’s perfect…”

jiun pokes her head out and laughs. she waves her hand and brushes your compliment off like it wasn’t the one thing she looked forward to the most from tonight. 

“you recognize my piping skills?”

you scoff at her, “i taught you them.”

everyone laughs. yoongi tugs you in closer, wrapping himself around you. just as you two pick up the knife to cut through the cake together, your mom’s voice slices through the moment— sharp and expectant. 

“what’s the gender?” 

yoongi glances at her, calm as ever. 

“it’s a surprise.”

his voice is even. it’s almost like you couldn’t tell she had just pissed him off. 

your mom tilts her head and looks at you funny. her lips press into a thin line. you know this look. you know her. you brace yourself. 

“well, what’s this baby shower for then? if we won’t even know the gender? ___, why would you have an entire party with no news?”

“sweetheart, relax—” your dad starts, his voice gentle but tired. he reaches for your mom but she stands still like stone. 

“i’m just… it’s confusing, isn’t it? you have this big party and pulled people away from their lives to celebrate… what? have a surprise gender reveal at the hospital? god, ___. wasn’t getting knocked up by someone that isn’t even your boyfriend surprise enough?”

“you can leave if you like,” you say, cutting her off. your tone is steady, your gaze unwavering as you glance at her. yoongi’s hand shifts slightly, his fingers rub circles on your palm. you don’t look away but just in case you do, yoongi is more than ready to turn his back with you. 

your mom blinks, stunned for a moment. then her voice dips, low and scornful. “___, you take time from my life, fly me out here for a party that has no rhyme or reason? do you understand that?”

you don’t flinch. 

“is the gender that important? isn’t it more important to see your pregnant daughter happy and healthy? or the fact that we’re prepared for this baby regardless of gender?”

she nods slowly. “well, yeah. you are healthy. look at all the weight you’ve put on—”

“what?” the word escapes you before you can stop it, a mix of disbelief and anger catching in your throat.

“what?” she snaps back. “you’re pregnant. of course you’re going to gain weight! but not that much, ___. that’s not healthy. you should be healthy for your baby—”

your dad is quick to step in, murmuring apologies as he takes her arm and leads her away from the crowd. for a moment, everything feels too quiet, the tension sitting heavy in the air.

yoongi’s hand is on your elbow now, firm but careful. “i’m sorry,” he says immediately, his voice low and tight with frustration. “i should’ve said something while she—”

“no.” you shake your head, offering him a faint, tired smile. “it’s fine. you’ve never met her. i should’ve prepared you.”

he doesn’t look convinced, his jaw tight as he glances at the crowd. you can see the tension in his shoulders, like he’s holding himself back from saying something to her, even now. you shake him off and step forward with a smile. 

“sorry about that everyone! i think taehyung and jimin have some games prepared… taehyung? jimin?” you announce.

everyone murmurs and shifts their attention to jimin and taehyung who enter the crowd with baby bottles in their hands. as they begin to instruct the activity, everyone’s mood lightens up. you turn and see your parents arguing outside, sigh, and cut yourself a slice of cake. 

“___,” yoongi starts. “do you want me to talk to her—”

“hey,” hyemi interrupts. she instantly hugs you and murmurs; “ignore her.”

when you two pull away, you shrug and nod. “always do.”

hyemi laughs and so do you. then, there’s a pause… it’s an odd acknowledgment of what had just happened. 

“i want to take a picture of you two,” hyemi says. “give me your phone!”

yoongi reaches from his pocket and hands hyemi his phone. then, he moves behind you without hesitation, his hands finding your waist like they’ve always belonged there. you lean back against him slightly, letting his warmth seep into you, and he adjusts instinctively. one arm loops around your middle, his palm spreading wide over your belly, while his other hand covers yours where it rests just above the bump.

he dips his head closer, his breath brushing your temple as he murmurs, “you okay?”

“yeah,” you whisper back, your voice soft. you tilt your head slightly, your cheek almost brushing his, and a small, genuine smile curves your lips. his thumb moves in slow, soothing circles over the fabric of your dress, grounding you without needing to say more.

“say cheese!” hye mi calls. 

the drive home is quiet, the kind of silence that settles after a long day—comfortable, but heavy with exhaustion. the scent of cake still lingers faintly on your skin, mingling with the lavender fabric softener yoongi insists on using. your hands rest in your lap, absentmindedly playing with the ribbon tied around one of the small baby shower favors you forgot to hand out.

yoongi glances at you briefly as he turns into the driveway. he doesn’t say anything, but his hand finds the back of your seat, a grounding touch, as he maneuvers the car.

inside, the living room is crowded with pastel-colored bags and tissue paper spilling over like confetti. you’re too tired to sort through it all, but yoongi is already kicking off his shoes, rolling up his sleeves.

“let’s just get the big ones out of the way,” he says, nodding toward the gifts stacked near the door.

“we can do it tomorrow,” you reply, but he’s already lifting a box, his jaw tightening slightly at the effort. you smile despite yourself, shuffling over to help.

it’s slow work, peeling ribbons and folding tissue paper, but he makes it easier somehow. he holds up a tiny pair of baby shoes at one point, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that quiet, amused way that makes your chest feel warm.

by the time you’ve cleared the last bag, your eyelids are heavy, and your back aches in that deep, persistent way that’s become familiar. you yawn, stretching, and yoongi tugs you gently toward the bedroom.

“i’ll clean up the rest,” he says, voice low. “go change.”

you nod, too tired to argue. the moment you step into your pajamas, though, your phone buzzes on the nightstand. you glance at the screen, your stomach sinking when you see her name.

“it’s my mom,” you say quietly.

yoongi doesn’t hesitate. he leans down, presses a soft kiss to your temple, and leaves the room without a word. the door clicks shut behind him.

the conversation starts civil enough. you’re careful, keeping your voice calm, but the words start to unravel quickly. she’s still stuck on the baby shower—her comments sharper now, laced with disappointment that sinks deep. you try to defend yourself, but it’s like shouting into a storm. by the time she hangs up, your hands are shaking, and your face is wet with tears you didn’t realize were falling.

the door creaks open, and yoongi steps in, holding a glass of water. his brow furrows when he sees you, and he sets it down on the nightstand before crouching in front of you.

“what happened?” he asks, his voice quiet but steady.

you shake your head, wiping at your face quickly. “it’s nothing. just my mom being… my mom.”

yoongi doesn’t look convinced. he reaches for your hands, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “what did she say?”

you hesitate, but the way he’s looking at you—soft, patient, like he’s ready to carry the weight if you just let him—makes it impossible to hold back. 

“she said she’s disappointed in me and doesn’t like this at all. this. me, the baby… you.”

yoongi’s whole heart drops.

it’s like he can feel the crack, the way it travels deep into his chest, the way it aches, sharp and immediate. you’re sitting there, looking so small despite the weight you carry, despite the way you hold yourself like you have to convince the world you’re fine.

he’s seen that look on you before—quiet, composed, a little too still. like the words didn’t just cut you but carved something out of you, left it hollow and raw. and maybe it’s selfish, but it feels like his fault. like he’s failed you somehow.

all this time, he’s been your friend, your partner in some twisted, unexpected way, and yet it wasn’t enough to protect you from this. wasn’t enough to stop you from hearing the things he knows you shouldn’t believe, not for a second.

“she said i’m gonna be a bad mom because i’m a bad daughter.”

the words echo in his mind, cruel and biting. 

his mind panics. 

there’s an urge to find a way to erase your mother’s words, to replace them with something softer, something truer. but he doesn’t know how.

his throat tightens as he watches you, your hands clenched in your lap, the tears you’ve tried to hide still glistening on your cheeks. he wants to reach for you, wants to pull you close and hold you until the weight of it lifts, even just a little.

because he knows you. 

he knows the way you’ve given so much of yourself, even when you’ve had nothing left. he knows the way you care, fiercely and unconditionally, even when it’s never been returned the way it should.

and most of all, he knows this—this terrible thing your mother said—isn’t true. couldn’t ever be true.

but the fact that you believe it, even for a second, breaks something in him.

he swallows hard, forcing the words past the knot in his throat. 

“she’s wrong,” he says, his voice quiet, steady—a soft weight in the air between you. “you know that, right?”

you don’t answer.

you don’t even look at him, your gaze fixed on the floor, the silence pressing against you like a heavy fog. and it hurts more than he’s ready to admit, the quiet stretch of time where you don’t speak, where your body language says it all. the way your shoulders curl in, like you’re trying to make yourself smaller, more invisible. more untouched. but he stays there, crouched in front of you, his knees pressing softly into the floor as his hands—gentle, warm—reach for yours. his fingers are steady, holding you like you're something delicate, fragile.

because if there’s one thing he’s sure of, it’s this: he’ll spend the rest of his life proving her wrong for you, if that’s what it takes. 

proving to you that you are, and always will be, enough.

“why do i believe her, then?” your voice cracks, low and broken. the words stumble out as if they’ve been sitting in your chest too long, rattling around, desperate to be freed. you finally meet his eyes, searching them like you’re looking for an answer you can’t quite find yourself. 

“i’ve tried my whole life to get her to like me… and she doesn’t. i’m too messy for her, and when i’m not messy, i’m too good. i—i don’t know, yoongi. i’ve always had a complicated relationship with her, but i thought— i thought it was just a phase. that maybe when i grew up, it would fade. but it never did. the way she would barge into my room, pick me apart in every way she could—it felt like i was suffocating. like i was drowning in her expectations and the way she made me feel so... small. i wasn’t me anymore, i was someone else—a version of myself that wasn’t even mine to keep. and my heart... it aches for her. for me. for us. because at the end of it all... we didn’t deserve to treat each other that way.”

yoongi shifts closer, moving until his knee brushes against yours. his hand comes to rest on your back, a warm, steady presence against the chill of your words. the softness in his touch is an anchor, pulling you back from the storm inside your chest.

“you never talk about her,” he says, his voice quiet, almost like he’s afraid to break the fragile silence. “do you wanna talk about her?”

“who are you? my therapist?” you try to smile, but it’s weak, shaky at the edges. yoongi nods, his thumb brushing a tear from the corner of your eye, a quiet, tender gesture that makes you ache in ways you don’t know how to explain. 

“she’s not a bad person,” you start, the words faltering on your tongue. “a-and i’m not justifying what she did today, but… i want you to know, she’s not all bad.”

“i believe you,” yoongi hums, his voice low and full of trust. “she birthed you. you’re my entire world. there’s no way you came from anyone bad.”

the words hit you like a blow to the chest, and for a second, you almost choke on a sob, your throat tight with the weight of it all. the love in his words, the unspoken promise to protect you from everything, even her. you swallow hard, trying to push the emotions back, but they don’t stay. 

not when you’re so raw.

“s-she’s really warm,” you continue, your voice barely above a whisper now. “she’s funny when she doesn’t mean to be, and she’s always been the first to sacrifice anything for me. but... she’s also the most selfish person i know. so cold, that there were times i couldn’t find any warmth in myself. but she works hard, yoongi. i know she’s doing her best, even if it’s her first time living, even if i challenged her in ways she didn’t know how to handle. and i want to believe she wanted to be a good mom growing up... that she just didn’t know how to be. but it feels like all my life… i’ve given her chances—”

“does she know that?” yoongi interrupts, his voice gentle but firm. “does she know that those moments for you were chances for her?”

you pause, your fingers tightening around his, the stillness of the moment settling over you like a thick blanket. 

“i think so,” you murmur.

“how do you know?”

“i feel it,” you whisper back, your gaze drifting from his to the space between you, like you’re trying to find the words in the air. “i don’t know how to explain it… but i know she knows. i know she’s trying, just like i am. but when she does things like this, when we have days like today, it pulls me back. it pulls me into being twelve again... like nothing’s changed.”

there’s a heavy pause, the silence between your words thick, deep. 

yoongi’s hand moves up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently brushing away another tear. it’s a slow, careful motion, like he’s trying to hold you together with nothing more than the softness of his touch.

“when i was 12, i promised myself i would never be like her,” you say, the words coming in a rush now, each one heavier than the last. “i promised myself i’d have kids one day, and i’d be everything she wasn’t. but now... now, every day that i’m not with her, every part of this pregnancy—the stillness of it—i think of her. how her body was mine and i was hers. how she also waited and prayed for me… when i remember things like that; i wonder... i wonder if being her isn’t all that bad.”

yoongi’s lips press against your temple, soft, a kiss that lingers like a secret shared between the two of you. you can feel his breath, warm against your skin, and it steadies you in a way nothing else can.

“i’ve grown,” you continue, your voice barely more than a breath. “i’ve taken the time to understand her. and now… i see her. more than just my mom and more than just a woman who hurt me. beyond that… underneath it all; our souls are made up of the same things.”

“___—”

“and maybe that’s what i’ve been so afraid of,” you breathe. “maybe it’s also why i’ve been so obsessed with being a mom… about having a baby and loving well. loving the baby with the capacity she failed to give—i need to prove it to myself, you know? i need to be her… the version of her that i’ve waited for my entire life.”

yoongi doesn’t speak for a long time. 

he just holds you, letting your words sink in, letting the weight of everything between you both settle. it’s a quiet moment, but it feels like the universe itself is holding its breath.

and in that silence, you know—no matter what, you won’t have to prove yourself to him. he already believes you.

you stir awake, the soft light from the window filtering through the blinds. yoongi’s warmth is pressed against you, his arm draped lazily across your body. his steady breathing fills your ears, a soothing sound that makes it hard to keep your eyes open. you blink, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep, but everything feels so comfortable, so safe, like a world outside doesn’t exist.

“morning,” yoongi murmurs sleepily, his voice still thick with sleep. he shifts slightly, his face nuzzling against your shoulder. “how are you feeling?”

you sigh, feeling the weight of the day ahead but not quite ready to leave the quiet of the bed. “i don’t know… kind of better, i guess.”

he nods, but you can tell from the way his fingers gently trace your skin that he’s not fully convinced. his eyes flicker to yours, still heavy with sleep but filled with concern.

“i have something that’ll make you feel better,” yoongi says, his voice soft but certain. he reaches into the nightstand next to the bed, his hand moving with the ease of someone who’s done this a thousand times before.

your eyes follow his every movement, still adjusting to the morning fog, and then he pulls out a small, elegant cartier box. the sleek box catches the light, and your breath catches in your throat.

the silence hangs between you two, thick and full of anticipation, as yoongi opens the box slowly, revealing a ring inside—delicate but timeless, the kind of thing that’s hard to ignore. you feel a flutter in your chest as your hand instinctively reaches out, and yoongi places the ring gently on your finger.

you look at it for a moment, trying to process what this all means. 

“what is this?” you ask softly, voice barely above a whisper, the weight of the ring suddenly feeling heavier than it should.

yoongi runs his thumb around the band, his touch light and tender, as if he’s afraid the moment will slip away too quickly. he hums quietly, the sound more like a low purr than a hum, and then speaks, his voice filled with a quiet certainty that tugs at your heart.

“push present pregift.”

“are you kidding me?

“it’s baby injeolmi’s promise.” he pauses, his gaze softening as he looks at you with a tenderness you never thought possible from him. “no matter how much i want to fix things between you and your mom; i can’t. what i can do is tell you that you’re not going to be your mom. you’re going to be breathtaking and unbelievably perfect at it. even when you fail at times, because inevitably you will—it will be graceful and so full of life. ___, you’re going to be warm and unconditional… baby injeolmi and i promise to love you. good and bad. cold and warm. you. we’re going to love you forever, mama.”

[dropsnectar]

Fawning Rose: Vine Monster x GN!Reader

The Adventures of an Elven Herbalist Part One

NSFW or NSFT

This is my first time writing anything in 6 years so keep that in mind. Also my first smut fic. Or monster fic. I literally learned about the sexual parts of plants for this fic. Don't know how I got here but this was fun! btw if you don't like oviposition, I marked the parts with three !!! before and after that scene, so you can skip it if you want.

WORD COUNT: 3167, or 7 pages on Docs

It had been a long journey from your home country, having to cross an entire sea to get to the sleepy elven town of Hairevick. An Herbalist, you could craft pills to treat a human flu, create a poultice for a dwarves sore, work-tired limbs; even brew potions to help a beastmen ease out of a mating season-- but it was still lonely. Their were no elves about, except for the rogue eccentric nomad. 

Feeling as you had fully mastered your craft in that area, and curious about your kind, you set forth in hopes of bettering yourself. However, when introducing yourself to your neighbors, you found everyone to be polite, but detached. As far as elves went, you were quite young, and the people of Hairevick were elder and not so trusting of outsiders. But worse of all, everyone here seemed to have an excellent knowledge of the local flora and fauna, and their uses in maintaining health. There was no need for an herbalist, especially one so unfamiliar with their lands. 

You spent the entire week mourning your state over glasses and pints of botanical alcohol-- The local tavern drinks were amazing!-- until you finally met a sympathetic face. 

He had long silver hair and the wisp of a ginger beard around his sharp jaw; a peculiar trait. He greeted you friendly enough, asking how you were settling in. It turned out that he owned a store in town, selling odds and ends. He even had a little apothecary in the corner, where those who couldn’t be bothered to make a forest run would buy herbs and tinctures. 

Starved for companionship, you bombarded him with questions about clients, and local herbalism. He was jovial, and after quite a few dregs of honey yarrow grog, offered you a book on the local flora. After some midnight bonding over stories of patients, he gave you a proposition. 

He was having some issues procuring some materials from a special plant, a Fawning Rose. It had incredible healing properties, but a bad habit of uprooting itself and fleeing from anyone who wasn’t a youth. If you could lure it out and bring back anything, be it petals, roots, greens, he would pay you handsomely. Maybe even give you some lessons on how to work with local plant life.

It was for this reason that you found yourself two days into a trip to the heart of the Haire Wilds bordering town. It was not going well. 

***

The cool air caressed your skin as you entered the grove. You had caught a peculiar sweet smell, somehow floral and buttery at the same time, and had followed it with hope filling your heart. The scent had gotten so thick you could taste it, strong as a tea on your tongue. Blue wildflowers covered the ground, interrupted by the common tree route or vine. 

Your eyes followed the vines or small roots, colored a sage with a speckled gradient to midnight blue. They traveled up into the middle of the grove. Sunlight, so rare this far into the Wilds, fell down in large delicious specks from the trees. They refracted off a large flower, almost two yards in width. Its petals were raspberry pink, turning blood red in the middle. Vines from its base led upwards and rested on the low boughs of the nearest trees, framing the flower and its various young buds like some sort of ethereal art study. 

You grew excited, feet tripping over roots as you ran forward, losing a shoe. You lost balance again and landed face first into the crook of a particularly large vine and hit your head. Hard. 

Hot pain crashed through you, making you curse as you steadied yourself. You tried to get up but the heat struck your temple like lightning as you moved upwards. Alright. Best to stay down then. 

As you waited, you were able to see past the stars in your eyes and notice a slight powdery substance on the vines. It, too, was pink. 

Maybe it was the thrill of finally finding the damn thing, or the head injury, but you felt different. You could hear your heart pumping hard in your chest, pleasantly tight. Your breath was ragged, the air pushing a hard, chilling heat through you. 

Like a particularly good run, your mind registered. A high. 

Your limbs started to tingle at the tips.

The rose’s perfume felt more like a mist now. You were only a few feet away from the base flower, and the scent had turned heady. Your hunger from a missed meal seemed to be surfacing, goaded on by the delectable smell the plant was giving off. While the pain eased and the stars disappeared from your eyes, you noticed that the lightheaded fuzzy feeling stayed.

Uh oh. Not a concussion.

You had to work hard to bring the fear into your mind. There was very little anyone could do to help you out here. The best you could do was not move around too much, and hoped the Fawning Rose would cooperate.

Suddenly, you notice some movement from the roots under your palms. 

No no no not now! Please, I haven’t harvested you yet! You thought as you tried to scramble up. 

The roots moved upwards with you, shoving you onto your side. Sliding around your feet, one took your other shoe with it as it slithered about under you. Another seemed to upend itself and squeeze cooly between your toes. You jumped a bit, but your gaze and mind were slow.

Something thick gilded itself on your shoulder making you look up. Vines, three, four, five of them descended and started rubbing themselves against you like cats. The movement was kicking up clouds of the pink pollen, making you sneeze as you wiggled against the plants outer limbs.

A part of you was horrified, thinking that perhaps you had scared the thing off. After all, you had been warned that this type of rose was particularly skittish. But the plant did not seem to be gathering itself to run away, rather it was pulling you closer to itself, the dragging tearing at the underside of your clothes.

Try as you might, you couldn't seem to think. Foggy, fuzzy, your mind was like cotton. The tingling in your fingertips has spread through your body, and an embarrassed part of your brain noticed your lower body was starting to awaken too. A warmth was beginning to pool in your gut, slow and lazy. Tingly. Fuzzy, like your head.

The vines continue to rub against your body, tearing the rest of your clothes away until only skin remains. They were relentless, cool against your hot skin. Their outer layers were textured but still smooth; a foreign sensation but extremely exciting. It felt almost like something was licking you, the powder giving a wet feel as it spread itself all over. Liquid heat glazed the innermost parts of you, much to your embarrassment. 

Aphrodisiac. You finally registered. You started to curse out that damned store keeper. 

You’d been played. 

You were now at the base of the flower, with even more roots and vines cradling and moving over your body. You were… pushed? Pulled? A foot into the air, close enough so that some of the smaller buds were leaning over you, as if they were getting a good look at you. You felt a knowing, a presence from this plant now. It really was looking at you.

Some desperate part of your mind, far far back in your mind, tries to set off danger bells. That you needed to get up and run.

Ooze started to secrete from the smaller buds, and the already overpowering scent of floral butteriness seemed to multiply. It dripped out onto your belly, warm and tingling, then your chest, your inner thigh, even a bit on your cheek.

The syrup dribbled down into the planes of your mouth as you wriggled under the vines. A particularly mischievous one pushes through the plush cheeks of your ass and moves up, poking at your entrance, causing you to gasp. 

The liquid touches your tongue. It tastes just as it smells, deliriously delicious. Sweet. Hot. It was divine compared to the little rations you’ve been eating the last few days. Like youd been starving and had sudden.ly been given free reign of a pastry shoppe. But no pastry could top this silky butteriness

What little heat that had kindled inside you was now a roaring flame, putting your past arousal to shame. You groan, and pull your head up, sticking your tongue out for more. A part of you is screaming to stop and run, but it is a stupid part that is buried instantly under your sudden overwhelming need. You are desperately horny, and you deserve to feel good after all the trouble you've been through lately.  

Still sticking out your tongue, you start to moan even louder as the vine messages your entrance with its thick girth. At the same time, one of the buds above your face seems to notice your desperation, and leans down to your lips.You lick at its plush petals and sweet sweet nectar seeps into your mouth. It tastes much like a floral pastry and you suck greedily as it pushes itself deeper in. 

The petals are so soft, yet still firm in your mouth as a river of nectar floods your throat. You giggled around it as it started to take its full effect. You felt light as air, so good. 

The vines had moved over to allow a bud to circle itself around your most sensitive part. You gasped out as it started to suck you, making stars flood your already glistening eyes. Your wet lashes fluttered as it began to suck wave after wave of pleasure out of your body.You had never felt so good, you noted somewhere in your sex drunk mind.  The whole time, the bud leaked nectar, completely soaking all parts of your groin.

The nectar left your skin feeling sensitive,  and completely soaked. This seemed to please the vines, which continued to massage the oil about you, then finally push in. You cried out at the sensation. Drool started to pool out of your mouth, mixing with the nectar.

 The vines rubbed lazy curving lines around your walls, making your hips jerk and shake. They seemed to know what they were doing as they started out slow for a time, then sped up their pace, thrashing about inside you. You clench around them, overwhelmed by the unyielding sensation. The pooling heat in you was building high, and you could tell the walls were about to break.

A rogue, mischievous bud had decided to examine your hole, tracing around your entrance in lazy circles. The petals were so soft, softer than skin. The texture made you feel desperate. As if to read your mind, the bud stopped. It must have been blooming because you felt little feelers, probably stamans, tracing about your genitals, wet with its lovely, delicious pollen.

 You swore and whined and pleaded for more as the vines fucked you through it, voice garbled by nectar. Another, thicker vine veined in indigo added itself to its companions and you finally came. The rush was like being tossed in the ocean, a shock that completely enveloped your entire body in cold, pulsing ecstasy. Eyes rolling into the back of your head, your juices spilled down on the forest floor below. 

The echoes of the waves of pleasure were still rocking through you when the vines surrounded your body started to move you upwards again. The vines were slow and delicate as they handled you, as if you were precious cargo. You were brought upwards, almost as if they were about to set you on your feet. Your neck was out, as you were still suckling the addicting flower liquid. 

You noticed through your long damp hair that you were positioned just over the center of the Fawning Roses main flower. A drop of nectar slipped out from inside you and dribbled down and onto the flower's green pistil. The stigma was thick, with four fat lumps at the top. The stamen surrounding it swayed, almost as if there was a breeze. Their magenta anthers rained down more pollen, causing a beautiful gradient against the deep red at the middle of the large petals. It was a truly breathtaking sight. 

A single vine wiggled towards your face and pushed back your hair. You found the gesture almost sweet, leaning into its touch. You remained like that for a time, before the vines started to lower you on to the stigma. 

No no no, you tried to whisper, some understanding dawning; but the bud was being aggressive with its feeding, pushing further in your mouth. It had a job, and its job was to make you so desperately horny and stupid, you’d let this flower breed you. 

The stigma was a hard fit at first. Its lumpy texture felt so good rubbing against you, you couldn’t help but hump back into it. The vines around you squeezing your skin, tilting your hips this way in that, trying to make the fit. The surrounding stamen started to rub their anthers against you, two started focusing on your nipples. You continued to hump the stigma, smearing the nectars from your groin all over it. Then, finally, finally, You were able to squeeze it in. 

The vines had taken over the humping for you now, pushing you down harder and harder onto the pistil. The lumps dragged against your walls in such a beautiful way, that you screamed out babbling whines. Your skin was covered in nectar and bright pink pollen. Every part of you was being squeezed, rubbed, oozed upon with tingling liquid, that you weren’t even sure you had a body anymore, just pleasure. After you came for the fourth time, you started to feel a pulsing within the pistil.  It was like the thing seemed to grow within you.

! ! !

Ridges started to squeeze against your entrance, rubbing against your walls. They moved up, up, up, into the deepest parts of you. There was a sudden burst of warmth, then something small and squishy. You marveled at the texture, as the flower continued to lower you down on the pistil, now at a slower pace, in smaller movements. You ached so badly, but the new sensation of the objects and warmth inside you made you wanna keen louder. They felt sort of like eggs.

Seedpods. You registered lazily. You were being turned into a seedbed. 

This realization only seemed to turn you on even more. They felt so good, rolling about inside your walls. The warmth they brought rivaled the cool temperature of the pistil, a delightful duality. 

You moaned with every bulge, push, then pop of warmth and heaviness. It was getting to the point now where the vines were pulling you up off the pistil to make more room for the seeds. 

! ! !

You were cumming so much now you lost count. It was getting to the point that you were just continuously orgasming, as the seeds and the pistil dragged against your most sensitive parts. 

You may have been like that for hours, days even, the nectar kept you so dizzy you couldn’t tell time. But at some point you were so full that the pistil seemed satisfied. The wriggling stamen around you stilled, and the vines carefully lifted you off the pistil, giving one last drag within your walls.

The bloom inside your mouth slowly dragged itself out, making you whine in protest. The vines carefully laid you down at the foot of their roots, arranging your body in a comfortable position. The vines slowly retreated from your body. They lazily moved about, sometimes knocking into each other in a way that was almost comical. Their movements seemed lazy, almost like it too was spent. 

As the last vine left your skin, it caressed your cheek. Within you some affection of your own seemed to bloom. The haze that was in your mind was starting to dull, and replaced itself with the need to rest. Your heavy eyes closed and you gave into sleep.

***

You awoke without opening your eyes. You could feel that the curving mound of roots you’d been sleeping on had been replaced with fluffy grass and soil. The smell of freshly tilled earth flooded your nose, and you jolted upright, eyes wide.

The grove was quiet, and empty of the Fawning Rose. All that was left behind was you, the upturned soil it had left behind, and light dusting of pink pollen on the trees. Even the sweet pastry-like smell had left the grove.

You looked down at your naked, sore body and groaned. You could see a trail of bruises from where the vines had gripped you, along with dried out nectar and tons of pink pollen. Your stomach puffed out a bit more than normal, meaning all of this had NOT been a dream. Much to your surprise, nothing hurt though. Your body felt great, healthily spent like you had just run a marathon. Considering how hard you had been working there should have been some pain, but there wasn’t. Just the pleasant pressure of the seedpods against your insides.You recall the conversation with the shop owner at the tavern. Looks like this is the flower's healing abilities at work.

You continued to search around the grove. Your clothes were still in shreds on the forest floor, but your bag was safely tucked under one of the trees the flower had rested its vines in. With some effort, you managed to get yourself off the ground to pick it up, waddling the whole way. 

The pollen was still working its magic on you, but you guessed you had been exposed to it long enough to build a slight tolerance. Or maybe the growing rage within you was doing the trick. You pulled out one of the many glass bottles, and a silver knife. You went to work, scraping the dried nectar and pollen off your body, into the jars.

I’m gonna charge that asshole so much money, his kids will be poor. You seethed as you spent hours getting your money's worth off of every plane of your body. You’d have to birth those seed pods later too. Your insides grew warm at the thought. 

You tried not to think about how you were going to have to walk home naked, where you’d been and what you’d been doing laid bare upon your skin. It’d be free advertising tho, you tried to reason. 

You'd make a killing. Aphrodisiacs were rare, and extremely expensive, especially to a crowd of immortals. I think I'll sell these seed pods on my own though. You smiled. 

You’d make sure to be properly prepared the next time you went into the wilds.

Might do a part two, maybe with slimes next time? Also sorry about any switching of tenses, I have a hard time with that! Hope you guys enjoyed!

[zevrra]

JJK—

synopsis: just some random hc’s i have for the men of jjk!

tags: fluff only, the men of jjk, nanami kento, choso kamo, geto suguru, gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, hc’s, short & sweet

creator notes: part 2

nanami !!

— is totally that “i will take care of you in every aspect” guy but i secretly think he’s pretty possessive too

— doesn’t get jealous easily

— flip flops between being a total morning person (on his days off) but the days he has to “work” he’s the opposite

— love/hate relationship with coffee bc he def drinks 8 cups of it every morning and feels gross after he does it

— the epitome of cleanliness and perfect hygiene

— like 100% he uses top of the line shampoo and body washes and after shaves and cologne!!

— ALWAYS smells good and it’s a mix of amber, some kinda wood, and probably something soft like vanilla

— feel like he’s cheap when it comes to stuff for himself but anytime it involves you, he’s buying you the best of the best

— leaves you notes all over the place whether it’s on the fridge, next to your side of the bed, sending flowers to your work space with a note attached, all just to tell you how much he cares and loves you

— willingly works overtime for you :3

choso !!

— sleeps until 4 pm every day

— a true night owl, mans HATES the sun

— feel like he’s super photogenic but hates taking photos unless you’re taking them

— would work any electronic like an elderly man

— “i can’t find the settings on this thing. where is it i’ve been looking for it for 15 minutes!” “it’s right here” “oh. how did you do that?”

— either has no scent at all or smells like iron/cinnamon/or straight up blood im so sorry skshskhkdhsk

— you both match everything from jewelry, especially rings, to outfits

— sleepy eye bags 24/7!!!

— takes a 5 minute shower but sits in the bathroom on his phone watching the loudest videos he can for 45 mins before he gets in

— loves spicy food!!

geto !!

— leaves gifts in your rooms without a word

— is the type to “i saw it and it reminded me of you so i got it”

— loves wholeheartedly. full chest, heart, mind, body, and soul

— willingly hands you his hoodie after he’s done wearing it

— quality time & gift giving is his love language!!

— heavy on quality time, he wants to sit or stand beside you and just coexist 24/7

— matching tattoos and piercings

— scary guard dog bf!!!!

— actually doesn’t mean to be but he kind of loves it a lot when other guys run away from you(him)

— his pet names for you range from “babe” to “stinky” and everything in between

— probably smells like sage & citrus

— he takes the longesssst showers ever and always invites you to them

— let’s you braid his hair, falls asleep every time you do it

gojo !!

— wants to touch you constantly!

— you’re either holding his hand or sitting in his lap anytime you two are together

— loves loves loves hugs

— gossip QUEEN! omg he’s so nosy

— “did you HEAR about this????” and it’s either the most basic information or straight up gossip gold

— always emphasizes the MY in his pet names for you

— “oh my love!” “my darling.” “hmm my princess?”

— a jealous, jealous man >:3

— loves to show you off until someone other than himself looks at you jshsjshk

— is the type of dude who acts all funny and tough in public but the second it’s just the two of you, at home, he wants to be babied and have his back scratched 24/7

— doesn’t tell you when it’s going to be chilly out so he gets to tease you as he hands you his warm jacket

— plans surprise dates all the time

toji !!

— is never caught wearing anything other than sweat pants

— wore a suit once for your first date and then never put it back on

— his love language is probably a mix between physical touch and gift giving

— has a hand always placed on your thigh!!

— his favorite season is winter and when you ask him why he just says he likes the cold

— it probably also has to do with wanting to keep you warm too

— is the type to: “i hate wearing bracelets” “ok ill just take it back” “no fuck you i’m gonna wear it and never take it off”

— literally keeps everything you give him in a box so he doesn’t lose them

— uses 13 and 1 shampoo

— calls you his old lady(affectionate) unironically

— smells like cigarettes and cheap ass beer KSHSKHS

— when he’s actually clean and sober he probably smells more like heavy wood and fire/smoke

— is a massive HEATER when he sleeps and he always sleeps on his back

— sleeps in the nude

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Little Ghost Holiday Drabble

Synopsis: Baking during the winters with your kids and husband during the holidays.

A/n: Hi, my lovelies! I know that I have a lot of works to catch up on, I'm a little behind on everything right now as school has taken a toll on me and so has writer's block. I'll try my best to post more consistently, I know most of you who followed me for the domestic content miss it so here is a little something for our favorite family.

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @callsignsnowpunisher @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam @drewsmusee @konigceo @duck-a-doodle

"Momma, look!" You turned your head away from the preheating oven to look at your little sunshine, although she was struggling to mix the cookie batter, her laughter filled the room. Your baby boy coos in your arms as you lifted yourself up.

"Be careful, butterfly. The bowl's really heavy " You smiled at her, she nodded obediently, trying to sneak a taste. "Butterfly, that has raw eggs. How about the chocolate chips instead, hmm?"

Her grin widens, foot stomps like a clumsy, cheery dance on the wood floor as she ran to the pantry. Nothing makes you smile more than the pitter-patter of tiny feet, wherever you were, it was always accompanied by her sugar-laced pitchy voice calling out for you.

She came back a minute or two later, the bag of semi-sweet chocolate chips you specifically bought for her sweet tooth. You give her the child safe scissors, your little girl wanting to be more independent nowadays, something Simon was both proud of and heartbroken about.

Looking up at you with a look of asking permission so you nodded, she squealed before shoving her clean hand in the plastic bag to have a handful of the treat, stuffing her little mouth. "Alright, put the rest in and mix it well, butterfly." You told her as she picked up the wooden mixing spoon again, multitasking on her munchies.

Simon came out of your bedroom together after a steamy shower with the towel around his neck, he wrapped his arms around from behind you, his face buried on your neck which caused you giggle and squeal his name in a playful warning when he lightly nipped at a sensitive spot.

"All done, momma!" She said taking it into her own hands to roll the cookie dough and plop it down on the parchment lined baking tray, her blonde hair sticking out in messy little spikes from what used to be a teeny-tiny bun.

She dusted her dress and flower printed apron before you helped her out in placing the filled tray into the preheated oven. Simon, taking your baby boy off your arms and inviting Ghostie onto the playing mat with them.

You watched them, keeping an eye on the oven which made your whole house smell warm and cozy against the snow outside the windows.

With warm cookies and cold milk, you stare at your loves before you, Ghostie practically stuffing her chubby cheeks full of the baked sweet with one hand, light beige crumbs and the sticky chocolate on the same bouncing cheeks while her other hand was offering half a cookie to her dad's lips.

Reminding you of moments during breakfasts and mornings when it was syrup and whipped cream instead of the crumbs and chocolate, when her giggles and birds chirping filled the otherwise depressingly silent rooms. You aren't ready for her to grow up despite your husband being more open about it.

Your baby boy chewing on his blue rubber teething toy as you enjoyed the ambiance of your warm home. Enjoying and savoring every moment you had while your family is complete, while Simon was still home for this time of year..

Within the very home and family that you and your husband built, your heart as full as it could ever be <3

[fanged-fanfics]

Hi! I don't know if you ever got this kind of request before, so if your uncomfortable or find better insperations, you can always ignore this ask!

I was thinking about the time Wukong discovers that Macaque has a baby. (Him and readers baby obv.)

And the baby is like a new born cub with its cute little fluffy face and fing tail around their dad's wrist.

Meanwhile Wukong is just like; (°Д°)

And I feel like Macaque would rub it in his face.

If you wanna do this one, you can pick the gender! I was aiming for a boy, but I know a lot of people see Mac as a 'daddy's girl's, so go wild!

(I always love reading your monkey men work)

( 🧡💛/💜🖤)

-Astro

💜🌙 Child of The Shadow — Macaque x GN Reader (As Parents) HCs 🌙💜

Genre: Fluff || they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

A/N: Seemed more fitting to have Wukong just being a prevalent side character and focusing the perspective on the parents of the cub, I hope that's okay!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆˚｡���୨🌙୧⋆˚｡⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖

- You were going to visit Wukong today, taking Macaque along with you. He'd been far too reclusive recently, and the baby needed the fresh air and outside time

- Wukong was happy to greet you, cheerily letting you inside. He threw a few snide comments to Macaque, but froze completely when he heard a small chirp. He looked around bewildered, as there were no Flower Fruit Mountain monkies in the room

- That's when Macaque lifted up the bundle in his arms, pulling back the folds of fabric to reveal your baby. Small, fluffy, and wrapped up in a swaddle in Macaque's arms. You gladly introduced your baby to the King, who's jaw dropped immediately. Macaque took the opportunity to snark

"What, the Great Sage has never seen a fuzzy little cub before?"

"Is- where did you find them?"

"This is my kid"

"Oh, okay- WAIT HUH-?"

- Macaque kept up his teasing, as usual. He rubbed it in immediately, bringing intense attention to the fact that he was the one who managed to get a family first as some monkies trickled in to climb on the shadow warrior and sniff at the cub

- It took a bit of prodding to get Wukong to snap out of his alarm, but the King immediately swarmed over and began cooing at the cub, which prompted Macaque to step back. Wukong had hundreds of monkies on the mountain, this cub was his. And he wasn't gonna let Wukong influence them

- As usual, you had to step between them, calming down your partner as he kept protectively holding your baby. He was always very protective of you, and that energy was almost tripled for the little cub

- Once the tension was down, Macaque allowed the cub to interact with the younger monkies on the mountain, with intense supervision. Wukong was a natural with kids, guiding the monkies into safe activities. You stayed behind to comfort your mate

"It's alright, you know" you said, the dark furred monkey turning a little to see you. "Wukong's not gonna hurt our cub, Mac. You know that" you said further. Macaque sighed. "That cub is the most precious thing in the world to me. I think I'm allowed to be a little on edge". You chuckled, leaning on his shoulder "Of course. But relax a little, yeah? I'm right here with you". Macaque gave an appreciative small smile, leaning to rest his shoulder to yours as he kept watching your cub play

- The cub mostly stayed around you two, preferring to be held or cradled rather than playing. Macaque was happy to support the baby, letting the little fluffy bundle keep their tail wrapped around his wrist to feel safe. He gave them soothing chitters and coos to keep them calm, occasionally giving a smug look to Wukong

- On the way home, Macaque kept nuzzling and coddling his cub. You were amused seeing him be so openly affectionate, and it warmed your heart that your baby was so happy in his arms. He was smirking and chuckling a bit, still finding Wukong's sheer shock that Macaque of all demons could care for a cub very amusing. He wrapped his tail around your waist as you both walked, letting it settle in just how much he adored your little family together

[chronicowboy]

i can't see you (the light is in my face) | 15.6k (E)

"What are we drinking today?" Eddie asks as he carries the teapot over to the kitchen table from the counter. He sets it down on the woven grass placemat in the centre of the table and slides into the seat opposite his abuela.

"Blue tea," she says, pushing her teacup towards him.

"And why do they call it that?" He raises an eyebrow at her before picking the teapot back up again to pour her some. He flushes when it comes out a dazzling blue. Abuela just rolls her eyes at him, a glint of amusement sparkling there.

"Rosa from book club gave me some," she tells him, lifting her cup and inhaling some of its steam. "She said it's made from butterfly pea flowers, so it tastes very floral."

Eddie pours himself a cup, watches the blue pool against the white porcelain and thinks of Buck. They'd talked briefly on the drive between the station and his abuela's. But Buck had been late for lunch with Bobby, and Eddie had let him go even though he'd wanted to sink his nails into the phantom of Buck's voice.

"Oh, hey, wait there." Eddie drifts back to the kitchen counter and picks a lemon from the fruit bowl. He slices it into wedges and takes two of them with him back to the table. "Buck told me about this stuff. I think he tried every tea under the sun after his coma. Did a bunch of research on all the different health benefits of them. I'll have to ask him for recommendations." He drops back into his seat and sets a wedge of lemon onto Abuela's saucer. "Says a chemical in the lemon is supposed to..." He squeezes the juice into his tea and grins as it begins to react. "Ah! Purple tea!" He tilts his cup just enough for Abuela to catch a glimpse of it.

"Oh!" She clasps her hands together, eyes lighting up, before reaching for her own wedge of lemon.

Eddie watches her stir the purple into her blue tea with a childlike glee, lets his own frivolous joy spread through him like hot tea. Accepts it for what it is. Little blessings, his abuela used to say. Life is full of little blessings. And Eddie is learning to welcome them without guilt. He pulls his phone out under the table and taps out a quick text:

Having blue tea with Abuela. Your lemon trick worked! But now she thinks you're a witch that's corrupted me with the dark arts :/

"Eddito?" Abuela pokes him in the shoulder with her teaspoon, and Eddie slips his phone back into his pocket like he's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Do you like it?"

"Oh, um." He picks his cup up for the first time, convinces himself it's just the rising steam that has a flush bleeding through his cheeks as he takes a sip. He wrinkles his nose. "It's... Very blue?"

"Mm." She nods, tight-lipped. "Not the best we've had. But the lemon definitely made it better."

"And some honey might make it tolerable," Eddie says as he plucks the jar from the small tea caddy against the wall. His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he pulls it out greedily as he stirs the honey into his tea.

eddie tell her that blue tea helps heart and brain health and that the lemon boosts your immune system so if i am a witch i'm at least a nice holistic witch

tell her eddie tell her

:(

"Who is that?" Abuela asks, raising an eyebrow at his phone.

"Just Buck."

But she'll just think you've bewitched me into saying it. Which you basically did.

"Ah, Buck," she says sagely.

are you calling me bewitching diaz?

i might have gone with beguiling but whatever

Eddie snorts, tucks his phone under his thigh and takes another sip of his tea.

"It's definitely better with the honey," he says. Abuela just stares at him, her head cocked slightly to the left the way it is whenever she's stuck on a sudoku puzzle. "What?"

"Nothing." She shrugs. "How is Buck?"

(OR: eddie makes a new friend, she makes some assumptions, eddie spirals about it in his patented life-ruining way)

[beansprean]

Support me on Patreon or send a tip on Kofi!

Some of my fav Vampire Guillermo outfits from my ongoing paper doll insanity! May or may not be canon for My Familiar's Ghost ;). 30+ more of these over on Patreon lol

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1. Full body of vampire Guillermo posing with his right hand in a peace sign and his left hand holding up his phone in selfie mode. He is wearing round glasses with gold frames and has his lips pursed as he looks at his phone screen. He is wearing brown dress shoes with a gold flame pattern, brown chinos, and a dark red ribbed sweater vest over a blue and pink floral button down. His collar is popped and he has on several gold rings, a gold hoop in his left ear, and a gold dangle on his right.

2. Repeat. Guillermo is wearing brown dress shoes with a lighter toe cap, dark blueish gray wool pants with a checker pattern, a lighter gray sweater vest over a pink button down with white stripes, and a black four tailed peacoat with a red rose pattern and lighter red lapels and liner. He has on several gold rings and gold studs with a curved loop back.

3. Repeat. Guillermo is wearing brown dress shoes with a lighter heart shaped toe cap, red chinos, and a sheer black button up with a red heart pattern over a black tank top. He has a single silver ring with a heart shape on his left ring finger and teardrop red jewels dangling from his ears.

4. Repeat. Guillermo is wearing rosy brown dress shoes with lighter wing tips, light pink cuords held up by suspenders, and a light pink and peach floral button up under an open knee length rosy brown cardigan with vertical stripes. There is a gold stud in his left ear and a dangling peach feather in his right.

5. Repeat. Guillermo is wearing leopard print loafers with no socks, black highwater pants, a black sweater with a knit chest pattern over a white button down, and an open front beige poncho with a diamond pattern along the trim. His shirt is untucked beneath the sweater, and he has on a pearl necklace along with several gold chains and matching pearl earrings.

6. Repeat. Guillermo is wearing brown wingtip shoes, black pinstripe high waisted pants, and a pale pink silk button up unbuttoned to his sternum under a knee length rosy brown fur coat. He has a white gold chain with a fang around his neck as well as matching rings topped with fangs on his middle two fingers and small hoops in his ears.

7. Repeat. Guillermo is wearing chocolate brown loafers, equally rich brown trousers, and a lace patterned sage green button up under a dark red cardigan with a diamond pattern. He has a knee length dark blue peacoat with a pink and green flower pattern on the lining and lapels as well as red teardrop earrings and a large blue stone on his left middle finger.

8. Repeat. Guilermo is wearing black dress shoes, black pants with a lighter bluish plaid pattern, and a black sweater over a white shirt with a red heart in the knit pattern over the breast. Fishnet pokes out from beneath the sleeves and he has on several silver rings, as well as a thin vertebrae necklace and ear studs with a silver triangle dangling from the left.

9. Repeat. Guillermo is wearing periwinkle loafers, dark purple-black pinstripe pants, and a translucent lace button down decorated with silver stars under a waistcoat colored like the night sky, with a purple nebula at the bottom and black with stars at the top. He has thin chain earrings and several silver rings shaped like stars and moons. /end ID

[ilyrafe]

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅'𝒔 𝒂𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 ✧ 𝒓. 𝒄.

pairing: ex-boyfriend!rafe cameron x ex-girlfriend!reader

warnings: angst

word count: 1k

“hi, rafe.”

just your voice is enough to decentralize him entirely. he didn’t expect to see you at sarah’s party, only because he didn’t know you were back to kildare.

you look beautiful as always. your hair is shorter, but that’s the only thing that has changed about you, at least, it’s what he can assume. the flower crown you’re wearing adorns your sage green dress beautifully.

“hi.” he takes a sip of his mock tail, trying to pretend he’s cool with you there, as if he knew.

“how have you been?”

“good.”

you know rafe too well. his short answers tell you he’s not at all amused by your presence, and that breaks your heart even more. he looks so handsome with a buzzcut, and it’s like he knows it.

“i guess you didn’t know i was coming.” you chuckle quite awkwardly. “sarah convinced me to come, she said it wouldn’t be an issue, but... if you want me to leave, i will.”

“i really don’t care what you do, y/n.”

you sigh, defeated. he’ll never forgive you for what you said. you thought that maybe he would have changed, or at least, understood your point, but you see that he hasn’t done either.

“okay, um... i’ll see you around, rafe.”

he watches you leave, and you’re not even pretending to be happy. he ruined your mood and he knows it. rafe sees sarah comforting you, and she shoots him a glare, making him roll his eyes and leave his spot at the bar.

he should probably leave, too.

when he turns his back and makes his way inside tanney hill, he doesn’t look back. he goes straight to his bedroom and plops down on his king sized bed. the music is muffled, thank god.

he’s been trying to make amends with sarah, even letting her come back home and be with john b in peace. sure, he doesn’t get along with the pogues, but if accepting them is what it takes for him to have the smallest sense of peace, he’ll do it.

rafe has also decided to get sober. after almost dying of an overdose, he was really scared and decided to quit. he wants to make ward proud. staying away from alcohol is a lot harder than quitting coke and marijuana, it turns out. the mock tails aren’t as enjoyable.

as if doing all that isn’t hard enough, you’re back. and with you being back, all of the feelings he’s successfully repressed are coming back up again, stronger than ever.

he hates that he’s given you this amount of power over him.

rafe never did feelings before, and the one time he did, you left him because of himself. rafe is his worst enemy.

he really loved you. well, scratch that. he never stopped loving you. you took care of him, you improved his relationship with ward and sarah. you asked him to quit drugs and selling it. you listened to him and you took none of his bullshit. you held him accountable while giving him grace.

deep down, he knows he fucked up. he wasn’t ready to grow up, but no one likes to say they’re wrong, do they?

“i just think it’s funny how you really believe this little island is an entire world for you.” you snorted. “but i know why you don’t wanna leave this shit hole. you’re a nobody outside the outer banks. there is no “kook versus pogue” once you step out of this place. you’re just another trust fund baby with drug issues to everyone else, rafe.”

he never understood your incessant need to “explore the world”, it’s so childish. you always talked about how you wanted to live in paris, toronto, tokyo, london, seoul, or berlin or whatever (honestly, you have mentioned so many cities, he has lost count), and you always said that you would be happy anywhere else, but rafe doesn’t see himself being happy far from north carolina. from kildare. from tanney hill. it’s where he comes from and where he wants to die. it’s what he knows.

a knock on his bedroom door interrupts his thoughts. rafe huffs and rolls his eyes. when he opens the door, he comes across you.

“what do you want?” he questions, irritated.

you enter his room and close the door behind you, drowning out the noise of the music once again. you’ve missed his bedroom. his bed.

“i think... i think i owe you an apology,” you say. “i shouldn’t have been so mean to you that day, it wasn’t right.”

rafe remains quiet, sitting on his bed, just listening to you talk.

“i just… i never liked it here, and i end up projecting that onto others, and i did that to you. i’m sorry.”

in theory, hearing you apologize should be gratifying, but rafe can’t identify any sign of regret in you. it’s not that he doesn’t think your apology is insincere, it’s that the regret he wanted to see doesn’t exist. you don’t regret leaving kildare nor leaving him.

“apology accepted.”

“thank you.” you smile.

“y/n, are you happy?” he asks.

“hm?”

“are you happy there?”

your smile and small nod tells everything he didn’t want to know. you are happy. in fact, you’re happier than ever.

“i am.”

rafe has vivid memories with you, and your smile has never been so wide, your eyes have never been so bright. maybe this will take him to hell, but he hates that you’re genuinely happy away from there, especially because he isn’t happy. and if he is not happy in where he feels he belongs most, there is no place in the world that makes him happy. 

maybe happiness isn’t an option for him, and the most upsetting thing about this is that money really can’t buy happiness. not the one rafe really needs anyways.

you want to tell rafe how you’re enjoying life for the first time, how being independent is amazing, but also sucks, but it’s still amazing, how the feeling of achieving something on merit is indescribable... but rafe would never understand.

it’s funny how two people who are so similar at first are so different in the end.

“that’s all that matters to me, then.”

i love feedback! let me know your thoughts! <3

[kaynanarie]

Eyes of Gold (Part 3)

(A WukongxReader story inspired by Beauty and the Beast and Lutung Kasarung.) (First) (Prev) (Next)

            The rest of the morning was spent scrubbing and drying out your old robes at the riverside. After a quick lunch break, Shihou showed you around the forest, perched on your shoulder the entire time. He pointed out trees ripe with every fruit imaginable, picked more of the purple-flowered jewelweed for your medicine, and gathered soft leaves to use for makeshift bedding.

            It was wild and beautiful and nothing like you expected. Even with the ominous reputation of Fruit and Flower Mountain at the back of your mind, you couldn’t help but feel at peace in such a paradise.

            “If I’ve been invited to the palace, why do I have to wait?” you asked Shihou that evening. While the sun had set, he helped you gather wood and light a small fire near the cave. His knowledge was unexpected but you were no longer surprised by the not-so-ordinary monkey.

            “Staying near the river makes it easier to wash until the poison ivy is gone,” Shihou explained, leaning against you to enjoy your gentle pets through his soft fur. “Plus, the King wanted some time to prepare a proper room for you. You’re an honored guest and he takes his role as royal host very seriously.”

            You were surprised to hear such a courteous reason. “Is it really that big a deal?”

            “He wants to make a good impression.” Shihou glanced up at you, his gilded eyes catching the light of the fire in a reddish glow. “You said you heard stories about Sun Wukong. Is that why you’re so scared of him?”

            “Well…I mean…” I pondered your response carefully. “The elders told us tales about him, mostly out of caution.”

            Shihou tilted his head curiously. “What did they say?”

            “The usual story,” you shrugged. “The Monkey King was a powerful demon that defied heaven and was imprisoned for it. He was sent on a journey to atone and returned to his kingdom once it was through. His spell on the mountain keeps it warm and bountiful year-round.” You glanced at the surrounding forest, green and vibrant even in the dead of winter. “But Monkey King hates humans and kills any that cross his path so the mountain is forbidden.”

            “He doesn’t hate humans,” Shihou argued with a frown. “He just knows how dangerous they can be. The King only wants to protect the mountain and his people.” A quiet melancholy fell over the monkey as he studied the fire. “The last time humans were welcome on the mountain, hunters killed our kind and stole from us. After that, the King banned all humans from his kingdom and forbade any demons from entering the village.”

            The pain and loss in his voice pulled at your heart and filled your eyes with tears. You couldn’t help but scoop him into a comforting hug. “I’m sorry.”

            “Don’t be,” he said, patting your arm in return. “You’re not to blame.” Even after you released him from your sudden embrace, he remained seated in your lap, reluctant to move away.

            “So, I’m still allowed to stay?” you teased, taping Shihou’s nose to lighten his mood. “Even though I’m human?”

            Shihou pouted but grabbed your hand, placing it back on his head for more pets. “You’re an exception. The King sympathizes with your exile and you’ve already shown more kindness than most humans. As long as Sun Wukong allows it, you are welcome on Fruit and Flower Mountain.”

            You only nodded, continuing to brush your fingers through Shihou’s fur. “You speak very highly of your King.”

            “Of course!” Shihou perked up, pride sparkling in his eyes. “He’s the Great Sage Equal to Heaven! He’s strong, handsome, clever, and he’s defeated every demon that ever challenged him.”

            “Sounds humble, too,” you muttered, earning a glare from Shihou. “I mean, he sounds formidable. What other stories do you know about him?”

            He tapped his chin in thought. “There’s a lot of them. Like how he became king by jumping through a waterfall and finding a palace on the other side. Or how he stole his weapon from one of the dragon kings. And then there’s all the adventures he had while on his journey.”

             Shihou launched into different tales of the Monkey King. He was a gifted storyteller, capturing your attention with vivid descriptions and excited gestures. From monks and dragon horses, to pig husbands and river demons, to kingdoms of women and mountains of flame. Every detail painted the journey for you, like he’d seen it with his own eyes.

            As enthralling has his performance was, the night grew late and your eyes grew heavy. You found yourself nodding off more and more, lulled by his soothing voice and your newfound security on the mountain. When you startled awake for the third time, you found Shihou watching you, a cheeky smirk on his face.  

            “I’m sorry,” you yawned, rubbing your bleary eyes.

            Shihou chuckled. “No reason to be sorry. It’s late and there are plenty of stories for another day. You should get some rest.”

            “What about you?”

            “I won’t be far, don’t worry,” he said with a reassuring smile. You nodded, shuffling half asleep to your makeshift bed. “Sleep well.”

            “You too–,” but when you turned back, he had vanished. Only the dying fire remained, crackling as its dim light flickered around the empty clearing. Even though you couldn’t see him, you could still sense his presence lingering in the darkness. With a last searching glance over the shadowy trees, you turned back to the cave.

            It was still gloomy and bleak but the leaves were soft and made the floor more comfortable. As you drifted off to sleep, the fire slowly burned itself to smoldering embers. The only light left was the glowing pair of golden eyes keeping watch into the night.

[miifu666]

"Let me go back, to a time before it was too late"

Happy Halloween!!! (Update: im late. Very late.) i haven't seen much love for Animation Wukong from the game :( so i decided to try that style when making this reel. Also bonus point cause i had the audio that perfectly sounds like how i imagined Suklha! And i got too ambitious and put too much thought into this animatic my bad ♡

"A trickster monkey, with a heart of gold"

Is what she would always say, chuckling at his unusual and life-threatening antics. Both are thrill seeker, one daringly more composed and mature than the other. Yet, they both have the same wreaking havoc amongst mankind mindset.

Time will only tell which of the two would suffer a gruesome fate.

Unsurprisingly, the mammal is more tempered than the arthropod. It has always been his flaw, seeing things in red before opening up his mind and look around. Fate has always been on his side, so far he hasn't suffer the consequences of his action too much, once he did something bad. He's been punished for it. But he's still living, breathing, enjoying the peaches on flower fruit mountain.

He's still living.

He's breathing.

Time feels so slow.

He can barely feel his chest move.

He's not dead is he? No that can't be, he's a sage now. Immortal even.

Yet why does he feel so numb as he look at the mirror infront of him? A ritual, that pig said. A rumor he heard, mankind likes to do anything within their power to rewind the past just like him.

"So why dont you try it, kid?"

He is.

He's doing it now. The good amount of incense and red candles filled the room, maybe thats why he's feeling heavy. The smoke filled room decreased a fair amount of oxygen. He peeled the peaches, just as bajie said. He's trying, his hands trembling as he cuts it into 8 pieces. Make it look perfect, he thought.

As time waits, he stares at his own reflection in the mirror. Worn out and fatigued plastered around his eyes, his cheeks, his wrinkles. This is ridiculous. Why would he believe what that pig said? What if its a stupid way to trick him?? Wukong didn't have time to get angry, he heard of a way to turn back the time and he went along with it. Impulsively.

Scaring the vendor near the town when he bought a large amount of incense and candles, stole a fair amount of peaches, and scoured around the forest for a shrine with a mirror. He was desperate.

The monkey's eyes fallen shut. Maybe he needs some good sleep, just a while. He's been waiting a long time to have the time right.

Just for a while.

Maybe if he can't see her now.

He'll see her again in his dreams.

Its all his fault anyway-

"Monkey?"

Artwork ©️ Miifu666

Writings ©️ Miifu666