#julie bean book

[thesleepyfable]

~ SWTD: Still Here AU Part 7: ~

The Confession:

And we're back. New story arc I'm calling 'Before the Rescue.' It's a few mini chapters focusing on various characters getting closure with themselves or each other. This one is for Caz.

Part 8:

With a cigarette hanging from his lips, Roper watched the Deck from the catwalk. It was both a relief and strange to see things back to normal, apart from the obvious. All the infected had the blood washed away and their torn uniform removed. The sky had cleared as dusk approached. Fitting.

Trots seemed to be taking it well. He was sweeping up the dust left by The Shape alongside Roy and Dobbie. Nothing seemed to be bothering him, unless staying busy was his way of coping.

On the Deck, Douglas, Innes and Sunil were going backwards and forwards for spare bedding. The empty shipping containers were going to be makeshift beds. Apart from Trots, because he won the lottery out of the group, the infected couldn't fit in their rooms. Addair managed, because The Shape melted his bones, but as soon as he sat on his bunk, it broke, leaving him shocked and embarrassed. He tried his best not to show it and just muttered under his breath in frustration.

No one had seen Rennick since he vanished, and no one went looking for him. If he wanted to get into everyone's good books, then hiding wasn't the way to do it.

Overall, it was peaceful.

Caz approached and stood besides Roper, leaning against the handrailing. He went to accept a cigarette but refused. 'New Year resolution,' he said, causing Roper to chuckle. 'How ye holding up?'

'Better than you. We actually missed everything in Control.' It was true. Somehow The Shape never spread to Marine Control. A blessing.

'Good. This place would be fucked if it did.'

The Shape may be dead and gone, but the damage remained. Large holes in the floors and ceilings weren't hard to miss. One wrong step and you could still fall into the North Sea. The Pontoons and water tanks had flooded, though O'Connor and his team went back to fix the issue. Administration was a total loss thanks to Rennick's episode of rage and Brodie was constantly keeping an eye on the stack. The lifeboats were also a total loss.

Then there was Gregor.

His body was long gone. It was part of the sea now. Roper was pondering on what to tell his family, because they all knew 'Boss Man' Rennick didn't have the balls to do so himself. What's worse was that Gregor isn't the only one. Davros has been missing for hours. No one could find him. All they could guess was he took a lifeboat and fled. If that was the case then he wasn't alone. Out of the skeleton crew on Beria, eight, not including Gregor and Davros, were gone.

Caz twiddled his thumbs. It wasn't over for the crew, but for him, it was. The victory will be short lived. He knew as soon as he steps back onto the mainland, if they aren't arrested by military, the police will ship him off to the nearest station. How long would he be put away for? Clearly waiting for Billy to drop the charges didn't work. Bastard was always stubborn. The Shape was an interesting distraction, but he had to stop running.

'Roper, you need to know something.' And, as if by divine faith, Roy overheard. He knew what Caz was going to say and approached. Trots and Dobbie didn't notice. Roper turned, noticing Roy but not suspecting anything. 'The reason why I'm even 'ere, and why Rennick needed to see me.' No going back now. 'Well, let's just say I was and am, well and truly fucked.' Roper frowned. Roy stayed quiet. 'I beat up a bloke back in July. Came to Beria to avoid the charges. I...I dunno. Just hoped it would all blow over and I could go back in January all willy-nilly and see me girls, but someone spilt the beans and the police know I'm 'ere.'

Roper trilled his lips and had a conflicting look on his face. Out of everything he expected to hear, knowing a criminal was on board was not one of them. 'Can't say I've got experience in that field, mate. Does anyone else know?'

'N-'

'Yes, I did.' Roy stepped forward and raised his hand like he was back in school. 'I helped Caz get here. Someone back home owed me a favour and put in a good word.'

'Ah. The plot thickens then.' Roper turned away to think. He wasn't someone who could hire and fire like Rennick. Tapping the cigarette on the handrail, then putting it out between his gloved fingers, he'd quickly come to the conclusion that this didn't change how he saw the pair. Sadly he only had one answer. 'I think it's best you tell the others in your own time. If you don't want to, then that's up to you Caz.' But the truth will come out in the end. A former semi-professional boxer being arrested will get back to everyone here.

Caz didn't know if he felt better or not with that answer. He narrowed his eyes and glanced to the crew. None of them knew. Was that for the best? To live in ignorance? Would they hate him if he told them what happened back home? Would Rennick reveal his secret to get back at him? He didn't want to toss Roy into the mix either. The big man might have helped, but he had a home to go back to.

'...I'll.' He huffed. 'I'll think about it.'

Fuck.

Roper patted his shoulder to show support. Honestly, he didn't care. The entire time he's been here, Caz has been a good lad. He worked hard and he did keep this place running more than anyone knew. Just because he wasn't down in Engineering or working the drill itself didn't mean he was useless. Now he had to ask. 'Did you win?'

'Oh, aye. He got to experience a broken nose for once. Suited the bastard more.' The trio got a good laugh out of that comment.

So, who to tell first?

Could tell his little boxing fan base. That would include Innes, O'Connor, McLurg and Sunil. Finlay? She knew something was up since this morning and she's smart enough to put two and two together. Addair? No, but he already had an inkling. 'Ah. Fuck it.'

It must be becoming a little ritual for Caz, because, again, he jumped over the handrailing - nearly giving Roper and Roy a mini heart attack - and landed on the shipping container Brodie, Raffs and Finlay were sitting on. Everyone heard and gave him his full attention.

'Er...Right. Shit.' Deep breaths, Caz. Deep breaths. 'I need everyone's attention.'

'Looks like you've already got that.'

'Yes, thank you, Finlay.' A sigh. 'There's something you all need to know about me.' Caz tapped his foot, looked all the men in the eye and continued. He had no idea, but Rennick was listening from the Under Rig. He was too far away for Caz to sense him but his voice bouncing off the metal structure and equipment could be heard all the way on The Isle of Man. The manager clung to what's left of the railing and listened. 'Now, I know a lot of you know of me past, and you should know I retired from that lifestyle over a decade ago. But, it seems the past keeps coming back to me.' He paused. Caz hadn't noticed he was tapping his thigh with his left hand.

'I beat a man up back home. At first, I thought I was doing the right thing. He said some fuckin' terrible things about me wife that I just lost control. Yes, he was trying to get a raise out of me and whilst he got what he wanted, I should have just walked away. But, I came here to hide from the police. They now know that I'm here. It's why Rennick wanted me. So, when we get back to the mainland, don't be surprised that police cars will be there.' He took another long breath. 'I'm sorry I never told any of you sooner.'

Silence lingered. No one said anything. They all just stared. Caz felt tension brewing. He began to turn away in defeat, his head hanging low.

'Were we supposed to care about any of that?' He stopped. It was Brodie's voice. The diver got to his feet and like Roper, placed a hand on Caz's shoulder. 'Caz, look around you. From all the shit we've been through, do you really think this is going to change anything?' A look and feeling of relief washed over the leccy. He felt a weight being lifted from his shoulders. He turned to the crew, then to Roy and the others on the catwalk, before back to Brodie. 'Don't worry. We'll put a good word in for ya.'

Caz smiled. Then cried. Then laughed.

'Ah you pricks. You're gonna make me cry.' But he did and accepted Brodie's embrace. Then Finlay joined in. Then Raffs. Then Gibbo. Caz had no idea where he came from, but a simple hug was quickly becoming a mosh pit. 'Gah! Okay. You can all stop now.' It didn't, because Muir lifted Caz up he'd just won the Premier league trophy. 'Muir, for fucks sake!'

Rennick didn't come out of hiding. He heard the laughter from the crew. He would be lying if he didn't feel both sad and jealous. It brought back memories when he was Caz's age, maybe even younger, during the war. That feeling of a team effort. The brotherly love. How he missed those days, even if it was a dark time in human history. It brought people together. What happened to him? How did he stray so far from his younger self? Rennick couldn't absorb his head into his body like Gibbo, but how he wished he could. The old man just wanted to hide from the world. For now, he watched the calm waves and longed to return to the past.

[holycoco]

12 Little things to do to romanticize fall

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Hi jelly beans,

I always did not love summer at all, even tho I was born in July, mid summer.

Thats because I always felt better on cold seasons and I recently discovered that i'm such a pro on romanticizing autumn.

This are all little things to do to make yourself enjoy the cold season have fun with it…✎ᝰ

౨ৎ Clean your room and if you can, change the position of your bed near the window, I love getting up and seeing the view.

౨ৎ Find some recipes and bake! If you need some ideas let me know (I'm obsessed with pumpkin muffins and strudel I can drop the recipes)

I love cooking and it makes me feel better anytime.

౨ৎ Get a cute mug and make you some hot drinks! If you love tea and herbs like me start a collection, get you all kinds and flavors.

౨ৎ Go trhifting with a friend or without one. Its such a cute and relaxing activity, get a hot drink on the way!

౨ৎ Go for candles shopping or just smell them its such a soul heal.

౨ৎ Make a playlist and go for a walk! Music and atmosfere are key. Let me know if you want one from me!

౨ৎ Get a new haircut or a new hair color. Personally I love me some layers and a brown chocolate head.

౨ৎ Buy vogue.

౨ৎ Find a new makeup routine, you can look for some on tik tok or pinterest, obv do what compliments your skin tone and features but here's some cute ones: aria montgomery makeup tutorial, helena gilbert makeup, cindy kimberly makeup inspo, slavic doll makeup tuto.

If you're into full glam, 2000's mom kinda makeup like me I suggest some jessica alba, stockholm makeup, old kim k kinda makeup!

౨ৎ Look for cute hobbies, book scrapping, journaling, memory boxes or reading (please ask me for a readig list pleaseee, I'm dying to make one for you)

Find a penpals!!!! So cute, I love love love this little thingy I always start on september cause there's when I don't feel like crap to do anything.

Do it, literally. You can find some here on tumblr or tik tok it's always well loved receiving letters!

౨ৎ Invest in good comfy slippers or some uggs

౨ৎ Look for good colors of the season that looks good on you or you like and get items of that color, lipsticks, scarfs, bags, nails...

This was a long post and I still feel like a missed something…

xoxo mamas, stay cozy, stay romantic, stay fall!!!

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love, Mary

[misshoneyimhome]

500 FOLLOWERS FESTIVAL

“You can rest your head on me, I don’t mind.” I Joseph Woll ✿

Requested: yes/no [I hope this is close to what you imagined bb]

Summary: From the moment Joseph Woll steps into the small café, everything shifts. Despite the shadows of your past, no one seems a better match than the goaltender in his shining hockey gear.

Tropes & warnings: no warnings, it's just pure fluff 😊✿ strangers to lovers, hesitant reader, adorable boyfriend!Joe x reader

Other notes: At our next stop for the Followers Festival, I'm thrilled to introduce Joseph Woll once more 🤗 He’s as charming as ever, and with his extension with the Leafs, he remains close to our hearts ❤️

Word count: 3.6K

➼｡ﾟ

When you started your shift as nothing but a regular barista on this seemingly ordinary July morning, you had no idea what the day had in store for you. The air was already warm and slightly humid, typical for Toronto in midsummer, and the sun peeked through the buildings, casting a soft golden glow on the cobblestone streets. You took a deep breath, savouring the stillness of the early morning before the city fully awoke. Everything seemed perfectly normal.

You unlocked the doors of the small, cosy café, tucked away in one of the hidden corners of the city, its charm known only to locals and a few lucky tourists. The scent of freshly baked pastries from the bakery next door mingled with the aroma of coffee beans, creating a comforting atmosphere that always lifted your spirits. You spent the first hour preparing to open, moving through the familiar routine with practised ease. The rich, earthy scent of coffee filled the air as you ground the beans, the soft hiss of the espresso machine breaking the silence.

The café itself was a quaint little place, with mismatched furniture that somehow fit together perfectly. Vintage posters adorned the walls, and small potted plants added a touch of greenery. You arranged the pastries in the display case, making sure the croissants, muffins, and cookies looked enticing. You wiped down the tables, fluffed the cushions on the worn leather sofas, and set up the chalkboard sign outside, detailing the day's specials in your best attempt at fancy handwriting.

Despite the tranquillity of the café, your mind was a whirlwind. It was going to be a slow Sunday, just what you needed after the stressful week you had endured. The memories of several heated arguments with your now ex-boyfriend played on a loop in your head, as the fights had been intense, filled with hurtful words and accusations. Yet, the breakup, though painful, had brought a strange sense of relief. You were free from the constant tension, but the wounds were still fresh, and the loneliness was starting to creep in.

_

It had been everything you dreaded. The two of you had been together for three years, slowly growing older together. But you were both still very young, only 20 years old, just stepping into adulthood and trying to navigate the complexities that came with it.

You worked your part-time job at the café alongside your studies in English literature, as you had always been captivated by romance novels, losing yourself in stories of passionate love and soulmates. You dreamed of experiencing the kind of love that made your heart race and your breath catch. But your boyfriend—well, ex-boyfriend as of two days ago—was far from any of the book boyfriends you’d read about. He was sweet and kind, sure, and he treated you well enough and never harmed you. Yet, you never felt like you were truly in love, like how they described it in those books. You never had the flutter in your stomach or the difficulty in breathing just thinking of him. Your palms didn’t get sweaty, and your knees didn’t go weak. You could think perfectly logically, and you never longed for him when you were apart.

With your ex, you simply felt secure. It was as though you were fulfilling the norms and expectations of society by finding a partner to settle down with. Everything was planned. When you’d both finished your studies, you’d then move in together after finding secure jobs and a stable income. And then you’d prioritise building a family after your wedding. It was all mapped out.

But you couldn’t help but feel like it was all wrong. Over the years, he grew less sweet and kind, becoming more rude and cruel in the way he spoke to you. His once gentle words turned harsh, and his patience wore thin over the smallest things. You had never been an explorer in regards to sexual activity, yet he’d encouraged you to try things out with him. Though a part of you felt pressured, you went along with it, but you never truly experienced the wonderful high many women spoke of. It was more just him doing his thing while you followed along until he reached his release. It felt wrong. It was nothing like you imagined a romantic relationship should feel like. Nothing like the tales you read about.

As time went on, you grew more convinced that those stories were just that—stories. The passionate love, the soulmates, the fairy tale endings—they all seemed like fantasies, unattainable and unrealistic. Your relationship had become a checklist of societal expectations rather than a journey of love and discovery. Moreover, your boyfriend wasn’t as good a person as you’d thought all those years. And though the realisation was painful, it also brought a sense of clarity. You knew you couldn’t continue living a life that felt so hollow, so far removed from the dreams you once cherished.

And so, you made the difficult decision to end things. For the first time in a long while, you felt a glimmer of hope, a belief that perhaps, somewhere out there, the kind of love you had read about in your beloved romance novels could exist for you.

_

You took a moment for yourself, leaning against the counter and closing your eyes. The café was your sanctuary, a place where you could escape from the chaos of your personal life. Here, you could lose yourself in the rhythm of making coffee, the friendly chatter of regular customers, and the peaceful ambience. You embraced the day with a smile, determined to find solace in the simple joys of your job.

So, as you flipped the sign to "Open," you took another deep breath, ready to face whatever the day might bring. The familiar routine was comforting, and you hoped the slow yet steady stream of customers would help keep your mind off your troubles. Little did you know, this ordinary July morning was about to turn into something far from ordinary.

And his name was Joseph Woll.

You were wiping down the counter when the bell above the door chimed, announcing the arrival of a new customer. You looked up and were greeted by a tall figure stepping inside, shaking off the light drizzle that had just begun outside. At first, you didn’t recognise him. His scruffy beard was a departure from the clean-shaven look he sported in all the pictures and interviews you had seen. Yet, it added a rugged charm to his already handsome face. But then, his eyes—those dreamy, captivating eyes—met yours, and it hit you. Joseph Woll, the Toronto Maple Leafs goaltender, was standing right in front of you.

Joseph approached the counter with a relaxed smile, his presence bringing warmth to the otherwise dull day. "Good morning," he said, his voice soft yet confident. "Can I get a medium latte, please?"

You could hardly believe it. Here was a professional athlete, a local celebrity, standing in your little café. Yet, you managed to respond, though a bit shakily, "Of course, coming right up."

And as you began preparing his order, you couldn't help but steal glances at him. He was casually dressed in a hoodie and jeans, yet he carried himself with a relaxed elegance. You noticed how his eyes scanned the café, taking in the cosy decor, the mismatched furniture, and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. And when his gaze then returned to you, there was a softness in his expression that made your heart skip a beat.

Joseph was an absolute sweetheart.

You felt his eyes linger on you a little longer than perhaps they should have, just like yours lingered on him. It was as if there was an inexplicable connection, a silent understanding that passed between you. Your cheeks warmed under his gaze, and you hoped he didn't notice the blush creeping up your neck.

You were almost unable to speak, yet you managed to say the simple words any barista would instinctively say to a customer. "Here you go, one medium latte." Your hands felt slightly shaky as you handed him the cup, but you managed to keep your composure.

Joseph took the coffee with a grateful nod. "Thanks," he said, his eyes twinkling.

As he turned to leave, you couldn't help but mentally facepalm yourself. What’s wrong with me? you muttered under your breath. It was the first time someone, let alone a stranger, had made you feel so weak in the knees, caused your heartbeat to quicken, and your lips to tingle.

You watched him walk out into the drizzle, the bell above the door chiming softly as he left. It was just a brief encounter, a one-off experience, and you knew you’d probably never see him again. Yet, you felt a thrill you hadn’t experienced in a long time—a flutter of excitement that lingered long after he was gone.

For the rest of your shift, you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face. Every time the door opened, you found yourself hoping it was him coming back - the memory of his kind eyes and warm smile stayed with you, a small beacon of light in an otherwise grey day. Even though you knew it was probably unlikely, you couldn’t help but feel a spark of hope. It was a sensation you’d thought was reserved for fairy tales, a feeling that maybe, just maybe, those romance stories you adored could hold a kernel of truth.

However, to your great surprise, the following Sunday, Joseph came back. It was the same early morning time, just as the sun was starting to break through the clouds and cast a soft light into the café. The shop was quiet, with only a few regulars occupying the cosy corners. When the door opened and the bell chimed, you looked up to see him standing there, a familiar, charming smile spreading across his face.

"Good morning," he greeted, his voice warm and friendly. "One medium latte, please,” he placed his order, and you noticed how his eyes seemed to light up when they met yours.

"Coming right up," you nodded, trying to keep your composure, but inside, your heart was racing. 

And as you prepared his drink, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him again, feeling that familiar flutter in your stomach. When you then handed him the latte, he thanked you with that same sweet smile before turning to leave. The bell chimed again as he exited, and you found yourself staring after him once more, a small, hopeful smile on your lips.

The next time you saw Joseph was on Wednesday evening, when you were working an extra shift to earn a bit more money during the summer. The café was busier this time, with a steady stream of customers keeping you on your toes. Yet, as you were in the middle of making a cappuccino, you saw him walk in again, causing your heart to skip a beat, and you had to remind yourself to breathe.

He waited patiently while you finished the order you were working on, and when it was his turn, you shared a silent moment of recognition. "Medium latte?" you asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, please," he replied with a chuckle, his eyes twinkling. 

And as you yet again prepared his drink, you felt his gaze on you, and you couldn’t help but look up. Your eyes met, and for a moment, it felt as though the rest of the world faded away. You then handed him his drink, and he offered a quiet thank you before turning to leave. Yet, just as he reached the door, he glanced back, catching you looking in his direction - causing you to quickly look away, feeling your cheeks flush.

"Shit…" you muttered to yourself, slightly embarrassed.

Over a week passed before you saw Joseph again, this time on a sunny Saturday afternoon. Most people were out enjoying the lovely weather, so the café was relatively quiet. And with only one other coworker busy chatting with a friend, you decided to pick up one of your favourite romance novels to pass the time.

You had no idea how long you had been absorbed in your book when a familiar, endearing voice suddenly broke into your dream world. "What are you reading?"

Startled, you looked up to see Joseph standing there, his handsome face alight with curiosity. "Oh, um… it’s just a silly romance… nothing special," you stammered, feeling a bit self-conscious.

"It must be pretty engaging if you were so absorbed," he chuckled. "I think I’ve been standing here for about ten minutes and you didn’t even notice me."

"Oh my god, I’m so sorry about that," you quickly apologised, feeling rather unprofessional.

But Joseph simply laughed, waving off your apology. "It’s fine. It was actually quite entertaining watching you read."

You felt your cheeks flush a little. "So… the usual?" you asked, trying to steer the conversation back to familiar ground.

"Yes, please. And maybe you could help me with something else…" he trailed off, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

"Sure, anything," you replied, curious.

"So, how many times do I have to come here and hope that you’re working before it doesn’t seem weird for me to ask for your name and number?" he asked, his tone playful yet sincere.

You found yourself gasping, completely caught off guard. "Well… um… maybe… this could be the final one?" you managed to say, a shy smile forming on your lips. “I’m y/n.” 

Joseph’s smile widened, and he handed you his phone. "Great. Here you go. I’m Joe by the way.” 

With trembling fingers, you then typed in your name and number, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. And as you handed his phone back, you couldn’t help but feel that this might be the beginning of something special, something that could finally make you believe in the kind of love you had always dreamed of.

_

Dating Joseph Woll turned out to be remarkably close to what you’d imagined from your romance novels, and it felt as though the universe had conspired to make your dreams come true. And with it being the hockey off-season, Joseph had plenty of time to spend with you, and he made every moment count.

Your early dates were a delightful blend of excitement and comfort. Joseph would pick you up with a thoughtful compliment and occasionally a bouquet of your favourite flowers. You visited cosy cafes, museums, explored Toronto’s hidden gems, and enjoyed long walks by the lake, where he’d hold your hand and listen intently to your stories and dreams.

One evening, he then surprised you with a picnic at a quiet spot in High Park. And as you sat together on a chequered blanket, sharing laughter and homemade sandwiches, you felt a deep sense of contentment. Joseph’s gentle, caring nature made you feel cherished in a way you’d never experienced before. His eyes often lingered on you with a tenderness that made your heart flutter, and every touch, every gentle kiss, felt like a promise of something beautiful and romantic.

Then during another one of your dates, you found yourself at a quaint bookstore. And as you browsed through the shelves, Joseph noticed you eyeing a romance novel. Quietly, while you were distracted, he decided to purchase it and later that evening, he presented it to you with a shy smile. "I thought you might enjoy this," he said, his eyes twinkling with delight. It was a small gesture, but it meant the world to you.

Except for one week when he had to go home to St. Louis, Joseph was always around. During that week, you missed him terribly, but he made sure the distance didn’t feel so great. You chatted or called every day, sharing the little details of your lives, your hopes, and your dreams. His voice over the phone was a comforting balm, and his laughter a melody that brightened your days. And as the days passed, you both exchanged pictures and videos, keeping the connection strong despite the miles between you.

And the week apart only strengthened your bond. When Joseph finally returned, he wrapped you in a tight embrace, lifting you off your feet as he whispered how much he had missed you. The separation had only made your hearts grow fonder, and you realised that this was the kind of love you had always dreamed of—a love that was patient, kind, and unwavering.

Joseph had a way of turning even the simplest moments into something magical. Whether you were cooking together, watching a movie, or simply enjoying a comfortable silence, he made you feel like the most important person in the world. His steadfast support and understanding helped you heal from the wounds of your past relationship, and for the first time in a long while, you felt genuinely happy. And as the summer days gave way to crisp autumn evenings, your relationship with Joseph only continued to flourish. 

_

However, as you and Joseph grew closer, he began to notice the subtle signs of your hesitation. Despite the kisses and intimate moments you shared, he observed how you occasionally tensed up or hesitated before fully relaxing into his embrace. There were times when, while wrapped in each other's arms, he could sense a flicker of uncertainty in your eyes or a momentary withdrawal in your touch. It was as if you were constantly bracing yourself, hesitant to fully surrender to the emotions you were feeling.

So, Joseph chose to approach you with a gentle patience that he didn’t mind at all. His priority was to make you feel completely at ease with him. He focused on ensuring that every touch was tender, every word was kind, and he never pressured you into anything more than you were ready to give. He believed in creating a space where you felt safe and cherished. Every date, every conversation, and every shared moment was filled with understanding and care. He became attuned to your needs, ensuring that his actions and words always conveyed his respect for your boundaries.

But one evening, as autumn shadows began to lengthen and the first hints of a chilly breeze crept through the open windows, something felt off. It might have been the stress of the new hockey season starting or perhaps the quiet, introspective mood you’d been in all night. Joseph couldn’t quite pinpoint the source of your discomfort, but he could sense that something was troubling you. 

So, as you both sat on the couch, the soft glow of the TV casting a gentle light over the room, he turned to you. His expression was serious yet full of concern.

“You can rest your head on me, love, I don’t mind,” he said softly, his voice laced with genuine care. “Or if you need to cry or just need a moment to relax. I don't care. I just want you to feel comfortable and happy with me.”

His words cut through the fog of your thoughts, and you felt a pang in your chest. It was clear that Joseph was offering you an emotional sanctuary, and you knew it was time to open up. You took a deep breath, feeling the warmth and reassurance of his embrace, and finally allowed yourself to lean into him.

“I’ve been cautious about fully committing because of a bad relationship I had before,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “Not that I think you’re anything like that. On the contrary, you’re so perfect that I’m scared of making a mistake.”

Joseph listened attentively, his hand gently stroking your back as you spoke. When you finished, he pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, his expression a blend of warmth and understanding.

“You don’t have to worry about making mistakes, Y/N,” he said softly. “I want you just the way you are—past relationships and all.”

You exhaled slowly, feeling a mix of relief and vulnerability. “But why? Why are you so patient with me?”

The tenderness in his gaze was unmistakable, and his smile was both gentle and reassuring. “I get it now,” he said quietly, “you’ve never been in love before.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, confusion knitting your brows together.

“Y/N, you could never do anything wrong with me. I am so in love with you that it doesn’t matter what you say or do, as long as it’s not that you don’t want to be with me. All I want is to be with you, to see you happy. And when you’re ready, I’d love to ask you to be my girlfriend.”

You couldn’t help but feel your heart sink as you took in the moment. Here was the sweetest man you’d ever known, and he was with you. The realisation of his unwavering support and love brought tears to your eyes.

“I think… I think I’m in love with you too, Joe,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “You make me feel all those wonderful, amazing, mind-blowing, and indescribable things that no one else ever has.”

Joseph’s smile widened, his eyes shimmering with joy. He pulled you closer, his lips gently brushing your forehead. “That’s all I ever wanted to hear,” he murmured. “I promise to always be here for you, to make you feel loved and cherished every single day.”

And as you nestled into his embrace, a profound sense of peace washed over you. For the first time, you let yourself fully believe in the love you had always dreamed of, knowing that with Joseph, it was not just a dream, but a beautiful reality.

[sepdet]

Happy Moon Day! July 20, 1969.

Oil painting by astronaut Alan Bean, the fourth man to set foot on the Moon.

If you look closely, there is a portrait of Neil Armstrong taking the picture reflected in Aldrin's faceplate, and what appears to be a mistake, another astronaut standing between a tall silvery rectangle (a solar wind experiment) and the lander's leg. I always assumed this was a self-portrait, but it's probably more than that. Bean remarked of this painting's companion piece, "First Man," a portrait of what Armstrong must have looked like while taking this photo:

“I guess every astronaut wanted to be the first man on the Moon. I know I did,” says Alan Bean. “And if we couldn't be the first, we at least wanted to be one of the first. Apollo 11’s crew got the opportunity to make the first attempt. Neil, Buzz and Mike flew a perfect flight and went into the history books; but all 400,000 Americans that helped make Apollo a success are in that history, too.”

Bean often used copies of his lunar equipment to pre-texture the surface of his paintings. This one has boot footprints, gouges from his geology hammer, and circular punches from a handheld core sampler.

[eww-y-tho]

The hypothetical debates surrounding the whole "Lady and Lord Whistledown" vs "Colin and Penelope Bridgerton" make me wither because

Lady and Lord Whistledown.

I'm telling you, this shit would be so fucking funny. I can picture it in my mind's eye: Bridgerton season 4, we get a quick shot of Colin and Penelope talking shit and giggling like crazy in the background, maybe with some PDA to match because Colin can't keep his hands off her, only to hear a male voice actor of a similar calibre to our angel Julie Andrews join in sometimes while Charlotte picks up the paper and cackles. Obviously, the reveal would happen, but I want to believe that our Queen would be down for Whistledown to continue as long as it doesn't get too personal. It would be kind of unfair and a bit indicative of the period, monarchy and all, but Charlotte being in on it would amp up the comedy points. Plus some ~historical cultural commentary~ would just be that final flavouring of spice.

It would kind of feel like Colin's turning to the dark side because we've already seen quite a few scenes where he seems possessed by Lady Whistdown's attitude and I love the idea of him coming from hating Lady Whistledown's guts to protecting her and joining in because it's fun and it activated his little shit reflex. Plus the subtextual implications of just how much Colin and Penelope actually are best friends and are connected beyond normalcy would just be *chef's kiss*

I would also love it because it feels very partner-in-crime vibes, giving another aspect to their relationship that would be fun to see. Combined with the power Lady Whistledown has on the story, we'd be guaranteed to see our beans quite a lot. Also a "Hello, my Lady," followed by a "Hello, my Lord" after a particularly steamy scene would literally have me shaking crying giggling dancing kicking my feet.

As for Penelope, it honestly depends on how you view her character and her relationship with Lady Whistledown. If the person in question thinks that Lady Whistledown is a vital part of her personality, an aspect of who she is, limiting her by making her quit would just feel really, really sad, man. Lady Whistledown has caused Pen a lot of grief, however, and we see it a lot throughout the story, so I think Colin being there, sharing the secret and partaking would make her feel much more comfortable in her own skin.

Anyway. Love the idea, and would perish if it happened, but probably won't.

Colin and Penelope Bridgerton.

This one's more cute than anything else. Two writers as a couple release solo and joint works sometimes while establishing their reputation as respectable authors and leaving Lady Whistledown behind them. I can see another scene in my mind's eye, Colin and Pen are sitting across from each other on their respective writing desks, writing and then handing each other their work to review and give opinions, paired with a kiss after they start teasing each other about their writing. Considering that the designated Sexy Desk Scene has already been taken, this would have to be in a secluded area or in their bedroom. And then shots of people buying their books and enjoying them would ensue.

With the amount of journals and letters and things Colin's done, he's practically primed for an author's role. Maybe they can be more exposed to Colin's love for travel in this version. Having Penelope with him on his trips while writing their little hearts out would be adorable. Sadly, though, this would mean that they would probably have less screen time.

If you see Lady Whistledown as an outlet for the suffering Penelope was going through throughout the story, she wouldn't need Lady Whistledown anymore and abandon the alias because she's served her purpose as Penelope's coping mechanism, and Colin and Penelope would find their fix through other means. Maybe continuing to gossip but only between the two of them, going back to the beginning of the series and the final link to their relationship.

It's been established over and over again that they both love reading, writing, gossiping, and discussing all things philosophical. And each other for enjoying those qualities. So, I think this dynamic would be particularly interesting because it would be yet another way to connect. They could probably also make each other all hot and bothered by leaving random sexy letters sporadically, which would just be so fitting, tbh. However, that would also work for the Lady and Lord Whistledown dynamic so it's kind of a null point. It would be hot, though.

And, yeah, that's how I see those hypothetical dynamics playing out and how that would affect the characters. But now for the negatives. While I love the Lord Whistledown idea, I do think that Colin is a bit too nice and cute for that, and it would probably be a bit OOC, especially because of his personal experiences with Whistledown, it would be a bit weird if his tune suddenly changed to "yeah, I know gossip can ruin someone's life, but I like it now, so I don't care." But I also just can't fathom Bridgerton without Lady Whistledown, and this idea hinges on literally removing the narrator and source of all the tea, as well as making us lose our angel Julie Andrews. At least the Lady and Lord Whistledown idea fulfills almost all fronts of their relationship dynamic.

Again, as the GIF demonstrates, both are good, and I love both of them for the different ways they would take the characters, but let's be real, a combo would be really fun as well. Like Pen keeps up with Lady Whistledown while Colin writes his own books or smth.

Anyway, enough of my rambling. Bye.

[stardewremixed]

Summer (real world) birthday headcanons and how they would celebrate their special day

Jas - June 4th - picking wildflowers with Penny in the morning, drawing on coloring pages with some new crayons from Vincent (courtesy of Sam's Joja paycheck) in the afternoon and playing at the park together. Gunther organizes a special story time at the library (with the help of Elliott providing all the voices). Marnie doesn't cook so Jodi would bake a pink cake, but Marnie would probably would have bought a new doll for her. Jas finishes the day on Shane's shoulders feeding the chickens on the farm.

Gus - June 8th - this man deserves more love since he feeds the village! I could see the Farmer bringing fresh oranges from their orchard in a basket wrapped with a yellow ribbon. Emily cooks up a big batch of his favorite fish tacos, and drags Haley in to help serve (giving Gus the night off). Haley would drag Alex into it (at least to carry bags of ice and look hot doing it). Elliott might tinker on the piano. Leah would have a pint or two and pitch in also. Willy brings some tropical curry from Ginger Island for his buddy. The SAS trio attempt a song in his honor. Gus is happy to spend the evening in the Saloon with his friends and neighbors.

Maru - June 10th - A big breakfast with her family complete with fresh strawberries. Seb surfaces before 10 just in her honor. Maru is thrilled to spend the day with her dad in the lab and collecting specimens in the forest. Harvey gave her the day off, of course, and a little strawberry birthday card. She gets a rhubarb pie, courtesy of Evelyn or the farmer. She spends the late afternoon chatting on a park bench with her BFF, Penny, who gives her robot drawings from the Valley kiddos. Robin builds a wooden shelf for all of Maru's odds-and-ends gadgets. And stargazing with Sebastian (like they did as kids) is the perfect way to end the day.

Alex - June 13th - Evelyn would make a complete breakfast for her grandson, and a small gift that she knitted (maybe a cover for a water bottle or for his weights to keep them protected). With the help of Farmer, George ordered a gridball card online for his grandson. Tossing the ball down at the beach and a long ocean swim with Farmer, plus a picnic lunch. (I have this cute little headcanon that he would build sandcastles with Vincent and Sam). If Farmer is able to splurge, catching a gridball game together in the evening is his birthday present. And Alex is a very physical guy in my book, so plenty of hand holding, bear hugs, kisses all day long and then a dip at the hot springs in the evening (and maybe a sensual massage).

Sam - July 17th - A platter of maple bars for breakfast and maybe some early morning cloud gazing with his main squeeze (Farmer). And there's no way he wouldn't have a party. Pizza. Joja colas. Plenty of cheery hi-energy rock music. Streamers. Balloons. Arcade games. Party poppers. Confetti. Karaoke. Oh and he would buy something cheesy at Jojamart for party favors like rubber bracelets or silly string. And maybe for a final touch of whimsy, embracing his inner child, a pinata with tons of candy (much to Vincent's delight)! Abigail would play her woodland flute after one too many sugary drinks and candies and cakes. Seb might even step up to the mic for karaoke (but would sneak a smoke first for courage).

Dwarf - July 22 - Dwarf is just happy if someone makes the effort to visit them and remembers to bring a gift (preferably a shiny stone). Oh and they are touched if you speak their language. Fancy a spot of stardrop tea together? Cheers!

Demetrius - August 19 - this man doesn't strike me as someone who really likes celebrating his birthday. A nice quiet unwrapping of gifts at home (a gift card from Seb because he has no clue what to get his stepdad), and a good bean hotpot dinner is probably all he wants. Maybe sharing an ice cream cone with Robin and a private dance under the stars.

Willy - August 24 - Spend the day fishing together and enjoy a simple fish dinner on the beach by a fire and he's happy. Oh and mugs of mead shared while swapping sea stories.

Leo - August 26 - look for bird feathers and shells to decorate his treehouse. I picture playing tag on the beach with Jas and Vincent, probably Sam and Penny too. And some fresh mangos is a delicious treat! He would probably enjoy a tape of bird songs or a picture book about birds. I totally think Emily would do face painting for his birthday.

[autumnalfallingleaves]

I have been rotating this girl in my head since July and I have FINALLY gotten enough spoons together to make an actual sketchdump of her (traditional, because digital stuff has been too many spoons as of late) 🫠 Introducing my newest OC, Dorothea "Theo" Kitt!

If you're thinking, "But Bean, isn't that just show!Eva?", sort of! Theo exists in book!canon WondLa, but, since all the Evas and Evans are clones, I chose to borrow show!Eva's appearance and use that clone model for Theo-- she was initially Eva Six of Sanctuary 602, but our Eva (taking on the surname Kitt post-canon because she got adopted proper :) ) found her as an infant in a sanctuary that was on the verge of shutting down and rescued her, deciding to raise her herself.

In broad strokes because I want to start expanding on all this, Theo is confident and outgoing; she would be punk if that concept ends up being reinvented in the time period Orbona exists in. She's a graffiti artist and a mechanic and her most beloved possession is a motorcycle-styled hovercraft she calls the Flotsam. (I'm still working on finalizing her coat colors, but the gist of it is that it's a Cærulean coat she modified and painted.) Her best friends are a surly Halcyonus named Mælegra (Mæ to her friends but absolutely no one else) with mad scientist tendencies and a Dorcean with anxiety named Bohlaan, who would rather learn textile-making than continue the hunting traditions of his clan. Theo absolutely adores her family and friends, and would do anything for them. Runs in the family!

I really want to work on some more stuff with Theo, so that'll happen at some point :)

please do not repost my art

Bonus: tiny troublemaker-in-the-making

[plscallmeeren]

O H , H A R R Y

Hermione Jean Granger x Luna Lovegood x Reader

Request: yes

Summary: you have been friends with the trio since first year and you've always been enthralled by Hermione and Luna, but only now in sixth year (for legal reasons everyone's an adult) are confessions made...... btw it's potions class and Harry has a crush on you (potions facts r all correct)

Warnings: Swearing; nipple play; magic strap-on/fake p; fisting; finger f; face f; power dynamics; bondage; top!reader; biting; anatomy ig; dirty talk of all kinds; threesome; anal; semi-public sex; porn with hardly any plot; out of character Hermione; damn idk stuff

Word Count: 3.6K+

You stared miserably at your cauldron in lieu of Snape's arrival. Luna sat next to you, doodling something in a notebook, completely unaware of your thoughts entangling with her.

In front of you, Harry and Ron were placed side by side, whispering about something. Hermione sat a way off, poring over her potions book as if she needed preparation for the lesson. Your heart nestled into your stomach mockingly as Ron looked her way adoringly.

What were you thinking? How could you be into two girls? Wasn't one bad enough? And what on Earth possessed you to think you had a chance?

But you had to tell them. At some point. For your own sake. So that you could move on. At least Luna, because Hermione would be harder to escape if things went south, considering you were in the same group of friends.

Your gaze wandered helplessly toward the Ravenclaw girl, searching her profile for something that might comfort you. Whatever that meant, you found it, because the sheer sight of her brought some joy to you - every single time.

Eventually Snape strode in, dramatic as always, impatiently beginning his lesson void of introduction, as if he weren't the one who had come too late.

"Valerian - recognising it. How tall-"

"One to two meters, sir," Hermione cut in enthusiastically, recoiling at the look he sent her in return.

"And are the blossoms or the leaves edible?" he continued, ignoring her. Apparently his gaze lingered on Luna for too long, however, because she answered easily: "Both. The leaves are harvested between May and June, the blossoms between June and July."

"That's not what I asked," he snarled, "and I don't recall calling on you, could that be, Miss Lovegood?" She held his stare better than anyone.

"Right. (Y/l/n), is the root dried before the common tincture is derived from its essence?" Snape sounded smug. Usually that was bad.

"No, it's not. And the tincture is said to be repellent of cruel spirits and similar." For a second you felt smug yourself. Then you remembered it was still bad.

"Also not my question. Now; who can tell me what real potion Valerian roots are essentially to-"

Hermione's hand was raised. Snape stared at her, looking almost surprised that she should suddenly be present and also have the nerve to remind him of this. She withered under his scrutiny, finally choosing to answer as he wasn't moving: "Draught of the living death, sir. I think, sir."

"I don't think I like your attitude, Miss Granger. Or yours, for that matter," he added meaningfully, glaring at you and Luna in turn. "Detention. All three of you. You'll be cleaning up the doubtless mess that will arise this lesson due to the jumping beans. No leaving after class."

You wished you could protest with the fact that you had a lesson the next period, but you didn't have one, just this once, and by the looks of it, neither did your friends. Harry and Ron looked at you pitifully.

This is the time. This is the day, a surprisingly loud voice inside you said. You gulped. Maybe it was. 

The lesson dragged as fitful bursts of imagination illustrated to you exactly which ways you could be explicitly shunned and exiled, while others portrayed perfect scenarios of reciprocation that partly led to some crazy classroom threesome. You felt almost guilty for thinking about them that way, but you were the last one encouraging these thoughts after all.

Finally, not that you had noticed, the two hours of anticipation faded away with the distant coaster of students packing their things. Snape loomed over Hermione, supposedly giving instructions. She winced at something he said and you were overcome with a strange sort of second-hand rage. Not the kind that made you move out your blood boil, but the kind that twisted some vital organ you couldn't place, deep down inside your gut.

He left, cape swooshing, and there you were.

You. Hermione. Luna.

You all looked at each other for a moment before Hermione began relaying Snape's tricks for catching the beans. They sounded awfully implausible. You all suspected they were only supposed to mistake it harder, but quiet prevailed as you got to work.

It was awkward silence. And you had no idea why.

This was not as usual. The three of you were quite close, or at least you were with both of them, and there was never any tension unless Luna brought up an unusual creature and stubbornly disallowed anyone from changing the subject.

Eventually you couldn't stand it any longer. "I have something to tell you. Both of you. To get off my chest."

They looked at you expectantly, abandoning the hopeless search for bouncing legumes.

"What is it?" Hermione, oh clever Hermione, with wit and smarts and pride.

"Yes?" Luna, lovely Luna, with daydreams and understanding and interest.

"I don't expect you to react to this," you continued uneasily, watching them exchange an unreadable look. "I really don't. I don't want it to change. Us. Anything. But it's not getting better, so this is the only way I can think of."

You inhaled deeply, closing your eyes for a second to regain your composure. "I like you. Both of you. And I know that's weird. I know we're friends and I shouldn't but I really do. It's only become more with time, so... I don't know what else to do but tell you and..."

Hermione beamed. Luna laughed. Your brow furrowed.

"Oh, but that's wonderful!" Hermione exclaimed, flinging herself at you so that you had to half catch her, not letting you finish.

"Wait- What do you mean, that's wonderful?" You asked, confused.

Luna smiled. "(Y/n), you can't imagine how wonderful this is," she started, approaching the part of the room where Hermione leaned against your frame. "Recently I admitted to Hermione that I felt for you also, and at first she was disturbed, because she had the same feelings, but then we realized that if you hypothetically felt back, there was no reason we couldn't share you. Or, more likely, that whoever you liked should have total allowance to act on their wishes."

You stared at her. This was a dream, right? Sure, Luna could be direct, but still...

You pinched your arm, simultaneously ecstatic and disturbed when it hurt. You looked at them both in turn again, Hermione pulling away a little from her impractical position. "So... the three of us? Together?"

"Yes."

"If you can handle both."

"Right." You clicked your tongue, eyes involuntarily roaming Hermione's body as she stood so close to you. "I don't know what to say now."

"What were you going to say?" Luna asked slyly, siding up to you as well.

"Well... I'm always thinking of you. In the library, when we study together," you lock eyes with Hermione, "and when we hang out. You're just never absent from my mind."

Hermione giggled, and your brows rose when you realized what she was thinking. Luna smiled coyly also, making you smirk. "Not really what I meant, but sure."

"Don't you think we should celebrate? Instead of moderately awkward sexual tension, I mean," Luna asked, keeping an entirely straight face.

"Oh, yes," Hermione agreed, grinning, lighting up as if she had just arrived at a spectacular idea. "I think I'll just pick up that bean."

She paced about two steps before leaning over slowly in a way that would never be suitable for catching something, showing off the perfect silhouette of her ass and legs. "Oops," she murmured when it jumped away.

You bit your lip, turning to Luna instead. Your hand found the nape of her neck where your fingers could reach the roots of her hair, your other securing her waist as you leaned in, kissing her slowly.

It was better than you had imagined it. More natural, more believable. It felt like melting into her. Your heart sunk between your legs.

Hermione, looking almost jealous, swung her hips as she walked, wrapping an arm around your waist and the other through your hair as if to drag you away.

You pulled back, eyeing her playfully before moving the hand that had resided on Luna's hip to the other girl's side, slowly finding your way to cup her ass. She gasped.

You couldn't believe this was happening. Each arm around a beautiful girl.

"You can do her first," the Ravenclaw whispered. "I don't mind watching."

"I wouldn't want to keep you out of the fun," you smiled wickedly. "Why don't you sit on that desk there, love?"

She obeyed easily, leaving a panting Hermione before you to focus on. "Sweet girl... why don't you cast a silencing and locking charm, will you?"

She nodded frantically, quickly pulling out her wand to do just that. Before she could, however, your mouth was on her neck, inducing a moan - more surprised than anything.

"S-Silencio," she stuttered, chest rising and falling fast as you slid the robe off her shoulders onto the floor.

You kissed her on the mouth then, her wand arm faltering as you muffled her groans, pulling off her jumper and top in one. Her wand clattered on the ground.

Next came her skirt and tights, ripped off her without a second thought, leaving her in black lacy underwear. You grinned. "Luna, honey, I'll need you to undress, too."

She nodded from the desk, immediately setting to work. You looked back at Hermione as she stared up at you, practically awaiting judgement. "Pretty girl," you cooed, "if only I had known you'd been hiding this under all those clothes." She blushed. Blue and purple spots were already taking form on her neck.

You cupped her breasts carefully, massaging them with the palms of your hands until you could see her hardened nipples through the fabric. You unclasped the lingerie, diving down to her cleavage, sucking and biting and eliciting guttural moans and whimpers from her. A distant whining came from the direction of the desk also.

"P-Please, mommy, I want more-"

"Mommy, huh? Interesting," you interrupted her. "And what exactly would that entail?"

She only whined, resulting in a shrewd pinch of her left nipple. "I- I, uh... down there..."

"Use your big girl words, darling."

"I- I want you to f-fuck me."

"That's more like it," you purred. "But you'll have to wait a moment."

Turning to Luna, you raised your wand, catching her off guard as charmed ropes snaked around her wrists and ankles, finally grasping the table legs with considerable force. She panted in anticipation.

"Bet you're wondering where I learned that trick," you cooed, but didn't elaborate as you led Hermione with a hand on the small of her back towards Luna, gently applying pressure to her shoulders until she caught on, sliding to her knees before her friend's bare cunt with wide eyes.

"I'm gonna need you to eat her out, kitten. Can you do that for mommy?" You tilted your head mockingly.

"I, I've never done that before," she stuttered, "but I'll try..." Her mouth collided with Luna's pussy, ass naturally drifting upwards as she elicited soft moans from the blonde, who writhed against her magical bindings with a flawlessly arched spine.

You rounded on Luna, licking your lips at the sight of her plush breasts and perked nipples. You touched her right with the tip of your wand experimentally, relishing her passionate gasps as its cold effect startled her. You continued for about a minute, maybe more, playing with irregular hot and cold touches all over her cleavage.

She was moaning and whining more and more, hips bucking up into Hermione's face more often than not.

You returned to Hermione, standing behind her calmly before running a finger up one thigh, then the other. She groaned into Luna, causing a chain reaction. The same finger roamed around her pussy, poking at her lips once or twice before venturing up to her ass, circling her other hole. She whined as you pushed into her carefully, curling and uncurling a few times before retracting again, leaving her pussy heaving, longing. "Such a good girl."

"Please," she whimpered, muffled by the Ravenclaw's folds. You wanted to tease her, but couldn't find it in you to delay.

"You're so wet for me, it's adorable." Two of your fingers rubbed sidelong up her cunt, slowly edging deeper and deeper until you were inside her, searching for her g-spot, finding it, pounding against it so that she had to come away from Luna to breathe, whine, moan. The sinful sounds were so high they sounded fake, but the movements of her needy hips proved otherwise.

"Quiet, now, kitten," you mocked, only thrusting into her harder as Luna groaned from afar. "Or do you need more?"

She nodded quickly, but you weren't going to let her get away so easily.

"I need to hear you say it. C'mon, use that pretty voice of yours."

"I need more," she whimpered, hardly able to catch a breath long enough to speak. You grinned, groaning a guttural 'good girl' that sent Hermione over the edge. Her juices flowed freely over your fingers, but you didn't stop, merely slowing down a second before adding another finger, then another, so that the majority of your hand thrust in and out of her with every frantic intake of breath.

"You ready?" you purred, smiling as she nodded. The remaining thumb glided into her, your entire fist now hitting all the right places in her cunt.

"Oh, Merlyn, please-"

She slumped forwards into Luna's pussy, sending vibrations through the blonde girl. With one guttural moan, clenching around nothing, she came again, writhing in her bindings as Hermione's face remained attached to her slick, almost sliding away at any given time, swaying back and forth with every push of your joined digits.

You could feel her gripping your hand harder and harder, threatening to spill, to arrive-

You drew your fist out, eliciting a pathetic whine from the Gryffindor. "Good girl," you said softly, presenting your hand to her face, which she eagerly licked clean of her own juices. "I'm gonna need you to..." You leaned in close, whispering in her ear so that Luna could only strain to hear you. Hermione nodded eagerly, still breathing hard.

You held up your wand, closing your eyes in concentration to remember some of the charms your cousin (oh, the irony) had showed you a while ago. Finally, pointing down, you muttered the words, watching as an unfamiliar bulge formed in your pants. You pulled the trousers down, letting it spring up, ignoring the girls as you set to work again, finally managing to have the wand vibrate heavily in your hand.

When you turned back around, Hermione was obeying your first ask, tickling Luna all over her body as her already aroused cunt pulsated and clenched, her nipples going stiff. She jerked and spasmed on the very desk she had just before contemplated potions class.

You handed the brunette your buzzing wand, letting her place it on the Ravenclaw's clit. She shuddered, struggling to hold still. Your fingers ran over her middle, tracing the outline of her beautiful face and the roots of her silver hair. Thumbs gliding to the corners of her mouth where her head hung over the edge, gently prompting her to open up, meaningfully catching her eye. An endless string of whines and moans poured from her now that her lips were parted.

Slowly, she took your fake dick, gagging on it in a way that brought immense pleasure to you through this unreal sequence of nerves. Luna started sliding up and down it with those voluptuous lips, and before you knew it, it was you who was pushing down her throat again and again, the blonde giddy with stimulation and slight lack of air.

"You can come now, honey. Come from mommy fucking your face like the sweet girl you are," you said sweetly, and then she was gasping, her face better than any pornographic scenery, and then Hermione was whimpering at the sheer jealousy of another's orgasm, and you were so impossibly turned on that you couldn't stop yourself. Your own orgasm exploded in Luna's mouth, some leaking out onto her face as you pulled away, sorry you hadn't asked, but she looked so ecstatic you could have come again.

The angelic image; Luna, wise Luna, white flecks dripping down her cleavage and face, swallowing the same as she licked her perfect lips. Hair a mess, spread-eagle on the table where she would have to sit and learn the next day, mildly cross-eyed, pussy and breasts on full, parted display, a blunt portrait of pleasure.

You took the wand from Hermione, Luna sagging at the loss of stimulation. A simple flick and those gentle but stubborn ropes snaked back into the air, vanishing as their deed was done. "Why don't you get dressed, love? We'll go to my dorm and get comfortable," you suggested, but your grin was too curious to be innocent.

She reached for her wand on the neighboring desk among her discarded clothes, but you interrupted her actions. "Don't clean up here. Put your clothes on over it all." She glanced down at her dripping wet thighs, soaked pussy, thought of the cum on her face and cleavage - then smiled just as wickedly.

Your lips crashed against hers before she could proceed, however, removing her more obvious decor as they travelled to her chin, her cheeks, cleaning her up in a way so inherently harmless she laughed. You had always loved her laugh. "Go ahead."

You held out a hand to Hermione, who was resting on the stone floor, helping her up and sitting down on the next table before Luna. She intuitively sat down on your lap, groaning as she slipped onto your cock. She sat there, 'adjusting', as you both watched Luna get dressed.

"See her legs? All wet under her stockings, even as she'll walk through the castle. Think how many other people will see her like that, unaware of all the dirty things my girls have been up to," you murmur in her ear, earning a groan of frustration. She lifted herself up as if to fuck herself on your lap, but you pushed her back down again. "Don't tell me you still haven't had enough of being fucked, sweet girl? You still want more?"

She whimpered, bucking her hips against you as you rested your head on her shoulder carefully, kissing the side of her neck. Luna pulled up her skirt, awkwardly setting bra over wet skin.

"What would other students say, knowing you're so needy? That you and Luna both have drenched cunts and wanna be fucked? Have been fucked?"

Apparently movement wasn't necessary, because that was the moment Hermione squirted for the first time in her life.

"Good girl," you whispered one more time, one last shudder of approval, before lifting her off of you and charming away your helpful illusion.

She started getting dressed over her post-sex anatomy, managing to clasp on a bra and stockings. You were just buttoning up your trousers when the door creaked open. Hermione yelped, scurrying behind you automatically, Luna standing sagely, now fully dressed.

Harry and Ron stood paralyzed by the wooden door, staring. The former looked livid.

"How dare you? I thought you were my friends!" he yelled, glaring at Hermione and Luna in turn, noting the slick around the Gryffindor's face as well. "(Y/n) was mine! You knew I liked her, didn't you? How could you take her from me?"

"Oh, Harry," you sighed, effectively inaudible over his ongoing accusations and claims.

"Please, Harry," you said louder, making him stop, "I didn't realize. I'm sorry for hurting you. But I was never yours, or only as a friend. I'm sorry. But I can be with who I want, and that's nothing to take up with Hermione or Luna, either."

He was practically quivering with... what? Rage? Sadness? Frustration? Envy?

"Well, I think it's great, y'know," Ron intervened awkwardly. "The whole... being-with-you-want-thing. Real good. You should all be happy, is what I'm saying, I suppose. Although I do find that hard to say in the dungeons, but y'know. 'Is what it is."

He wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders, turning him around slowly. "C'mon, mate. Uh, he's sorry and all, I think is fair to say. Just outta sorts, is all."

Harry seemed unable to withstand his friend's kind tug, dragging his feet over the dark stone in the opposite direction.

Hermione emerged from behind you, hand clapped over her mouth. "I can't believe I forgot to do a locking spell."

"Maybe you've forgotten, but that wasn't entirely your fault."

"Anyway," Luna interrupted as the Gryffindor appeared to be searching her memory, "let's hope nothing will go out of its way to stand between us anymore. Not even our friends."

"We won't let them either way," Hermione added, smiling brightly.

"Good to know." You grinned. This detention was certainly worth it.

[thetinyadventurer]

It’s the 4th of July and my brain went to Atlantis…Again.

I imagined Vinny making homemade fireworks and causing absolute chaos! Cookie would be having a blast on the BBQ, cooking up a shit-ton of baked beans. Mole would probably be diving headfirst into the giant bowl of potato salad. Milo would probably be reading a ton of the books in the shade of an apple tree. For some bizarre reason I can imagine Audrey, Helga and Kida joining a baseball game and getting VERY competitive. Mrs. Packard would be chatting it up with her lady friends. Meanwhile Rourke is taking the day off to work on his tan at the edge of a lake or something. Only to have his day off be interrupted by the other’s shenanigans (like a stray baseball or a . Oh, and Mr.Whitmore would probably be trying the high dive (and scarring the eyes of local children with his old gentlemanly physique).

Basically, one big chaotic multi-national family. 🥰

[claudeng80]

Letters From the Front (WWI AU)

December 1914

I never expected to receive anything in the mail, least of all from you. When it had become clear I had nobody at home to miss me, my lack of letters because something of a daily jest for the unit. Your package put a stop to that, and my only regret was that I was so busy being surprised myself that I forgot to enjoy the looks on their faces.

The young master made a real point of the fact you were a generous sort. I guess the right thing to start with would be an apology, right? If I’d known you were this kind of person from the start, I wouldn’t have agreed to do what I did. I owe you one. Let’s all hope you get a chance to collect on it.

And thanks for the book. I heard a story about a guy who had a book in his pocket save him from a bullet. I’m not saying I’m counting on it, but why take chances? It’s going everywhere with me now.

That said, I’ve been assigned to the young master’s unit for good, so he’ll be keeping a close eye on me. Surely I can’t get into too much mischief anymore. He made the best face when I said I was writing you a letter, but he sends his regards. No, not regards, he says I have to cross that out and get it right, that’s an order. He sends his love.

And on that note I remain your irresponsible correspondent,

Obi

***

February 1915

Why am I not surprised you lined up for nurse training the moment you had the chance? It may not be your original plan- yes, I did overhear your intentions for medical school, and I’m not asking what happened to that- but these days none of us end up exactly where we plan to. But I’m sure you will be a great nurse. So many soldiers will be cured on the spot by the simple sight of your cheerful face that we will overwhelm the Germans with healthy numbers alone. Please write back and tell me about all the stupid injuries you see. I can’t wait.

The lieutenant sends his love, again.

Obi

***

May 1915

I promise I’m not going to make any more jokes about getting injured. If I had not already learned my lesson from the extensive lecture in your last letter- honestly, you do not need to waste so much paper on me- I would have learned it in the last couple of days. Today I write to you from a field hospital. Don’t worry, I am in one piece, all that is missing is a large quantity of blood and the nurse tells me I can fix that myself so long as the army sees fit to supply me with enough meat. I will do my best to keep the blood on the inside from now on, but I am not going to complain about the extra meat ration.

I know you’re going to ask me about the hospital, but I refuse to describe it. It’s much like any other hospital, save that all the medics are officers and order us patients around incessantly. You would have been impressed with the man who sewed up the hole in me, though- it’s hard to tell whether it was his stitches or the cursing that stopped the flow. He was truly gifted on both counts.

Lieutenant Zen stopped by to visit. He is very busy. He says he appreciates your letters greatly and sends his love.

Your only-a-little-exsanguinated friend,

Obi

***

July 1915

I will start with the most important news: we are all in good health. For now, at least, I should say, because the shadow of doom lies upon us. Our unit has acquired a creature. It is a scruffy dog of indeterminate breed that has an endless appetite for the beans we are all so heartily sick of and one trick that it will display on command. He falls down dead when “shot,” which is not that original a feat, but nobody thinks I’m funny when I remind them we’re all capable of the same. Somehow when the dog does it, it’s amusing.

I am not yet convinced it will not kill and eat me in my sleep, but it insists on bedding down on my feet. At least, if it does, I will go out with warm toes, I suppose.

I am very glad to hear that everyone at Wistal is thriving and that you are assisting Lady Haki in her plans. Zen has concerns about the practicalities of establishing a recovery hospital in such a grand home, but I am sure that with the two of you teamed up it can be nothing but a success. Do not let all the soldiers fall in love with you; broken hearts are not conducive to recovery, and we need them all back out here.

Zen sends his love. He says he will try to draw the dog for you. If he does, please save the picture because I want to see it.

With regards from the future dog food on the hoof,

Obi

***

December 1915

Last week I received five of your letters at once; it seems they have been chasing me around Europe for some time. The bounty of news from home is a bit overwhelming- I have been rationing them so as to take it all in manageable bites.

There is little more that I can tell you than ever; winter is cold, but dry. We slide on the icy mud instead of sinking into it; equally treacherous but a trade I, for one, welcome. Our French counterparts have celebrated the feast of St. Nicholas, and also we heard the faint celebrations from our opponents in the distance, but nobody would be foolish enough to leave their boots off for long enough to acquire treats, or to eat treats that had been in close contact with boots. Obviously the saint pays no attention when the rules aren’t followed, because we are entirely lacking in treats. It’s hard to imagine Christmas will be any different.

Oh, I suppose I do have one item of note to report- we came across the wreckage of a downed airplane. We hear them snarling overhead from time to time, but it’s the first I’ve had a close look at, and now that I have, you will not catch me clamoring any more for a ride in one. On the ground, it was a pile of sticks and cloth, no more substance than a toy. I’ll keep my feet on the ground, thank you.

With jaunts up walls and into the trees when warranted, of course. Those are sturdy and don’t count. But my point is that I got a piece of the plane as a souvenir. I can’t say I know what it is, but I hope I can show it to you someday.

I can’t get my hands on Zen to get a message from him this time, but I’m sure he would send his love as always if I could pin him down to do it.

Sincerely,

Obi

***

April 1916

I understand you may have had some distressing news about the progress of the front; whatever you read, you don’t need to worry about us. We are fed regularly and our feet are dry and healthy. I have not been eaten by the dog yet. 

Zen sends his love.

Obi

***

June 1916

I am well.

I have been admitted to hospital wounded/sick. I am doing well and will return to duty soon.

I have received your letter/telegram/parcel dated June 1, 1916.

Letter follows at first opportunity.

I have received no letter from you lately/for a long time.

Signature: Obi

***

Shirayuki lays the postcard on top of the stack. The edges of the cheap paper are starting to fray, but she can’t leave it alone. After all of these months of regular letters, he sends her a form postcard completely lacking in information, and then nothing. It's been four months. She doesn’t even know what to write back anymore.

“Put your boyfriend’s letters away already and come on,” Yuzuri complains, and Shirayuki yanks open the desk drawer. The pile’s too tall to fit now, and she has to split it, adding Obi’s latest letters on top of Zen’s much slimmer pile. “You’ll find out when you find out, reading that postcard for the thousandth time isn’t going to tell you anything new.”

“It’s not-” Objecting is a reflex now, but a futile one. She knows Yuzuri has heard the whole explanation at least three times now. She just doesn’t listen, or doesn’t believe what she hears. She doesn’t have a boyfriend, she has two soldiers she’s writing to. She’d known them both not even three weeks before they enlisted, and neither Zen’s hasty proposal or Obi’s abject apology makes either of them a boyfriend.

No matter what Obi thinks. She’s given up trying to explain to him either; her ink and paper are better spent on other topics.

“They’re going to start without us!” Yuzuri dances at the door. “Do I look all right?”

***

She’s not superstitious, of course, doesn’t believe in ghosts walking the earth on All Hallow’s Eve, but if she did, the light and chatter coming through the open windows make Wistal house a very appealing destination. She and Yuzuri and all the other nurses who board in the gatehouse take this walk every day, usually a few minutes of serenity before the intense day of work. Tonight’s train of nurses are anything but serene.

Lady Haki raided the Wistal attics, so they are a fancy parade as well as a merry one. Yuzuri leads the way in one of Lady Haruto’s old Royal Ascot outfits complete with hat, their precious victrola clutched in her arms. Haki comes next, very dapper in a morning suit borrowed from her husband’s closet. Shirayuki would have been fine to skip the fancy dress, but the others reminded her just how much their American patients were longing for a Halloween party. She couldn’t disappoint them, and that’s how she ended up wearing her weight in ruffles in some Wisteria dowager’s bustle dress. The color is nice, but it does feel very odd to know how much she looks like her grandmother’s wedding portrait right now.

When the nurses make their grand entrance, patients smile at them from under their bandages. Two of the more ambulatory, one with bandages wrapped loosely around him like a mummy and another wearing a bedsheet for a turban scramble to divest Yuzuri of the victrola and Haki of the pile of records, already squabbling about which music to put on first. The feathers on Yuzuri’s hat block Shirayuki’s vision, and when she turns to bat them away, her attention is arrested by an unfamiliar face.

Or perhaps not unfamiliar, but unexpected- she knows she’s seen those gold eyes under thin eyebrows, that hedgehog hair untamed by the uniform hat now tucked beneath his arm. He’s not a patient here, despite the bandages, but he knows her, too, she can tell.

Yuzuri’s feathers assault her nose again, and by the time she’s moved herself out of the danger zone, the stranger is a step closer. The victrola starts up with a crackle, the first lilting notes of the Aeroplane Waltz filling the air, and the corner of his mouth twitches. 

That mouth she knows, though. It was the same quirk on the stranger’s face before he admitted to being the real thief. His eyes twinkled, just for a moment, then the smirk slid into a full-on beam. Just a few words to admit he was the one who slipped the Wistal silver into Shirayuki’s bag, and Zen pushed him off the balcony.

One week later he was with Zen on a troop train to the Continent.

Her feet move faster than they should in a dress not her own, but she can’t help it. One stride short of her target, unfamiliar heels catch in the unfamiliar hem, but there’s only a moment of free-fall before she is stopped. Her hands lock around his wrists, and his hands around hers. “You’re here,” she breathes.

“In almost one piece,” he agrees, and then a true smile blooms. His hands twist out of her grasp and before she knows it she’s spinning, scrabbling at his shoulders as her skirt swishes around her feet even though he’s holding her steady. His laugh is a beautiful sound that for months she’d thought she’d never get the chance to hear, and somehow the Obi of her letters and this man in front of her click into place. He’s wry asides in awkward script, but he’s also solid muscle under green wool and raindrops in hair. She wants to grab hold of him until he is as familiar to her as all his letters.

But he winces, setting her down abruptly, and folds over stiffly. “Ow,” he says, like it’s a joke. 

She knows that reaction, and the shame behind it all too well. “You’re hurt.” He watches her out of the corner of his eye, as though if he pretends it’s not there she’ll do anything but scold him.

“Wouldn’t be here if I weren’t,” he says at last. A pinprick of blood spreads on his shirt.

Shirayuki sighs. “At least you’re in the right place.” The examination room should be empty, with everyone at the party right now. Yuzuri catches her eye with a quizzical look, and when Shirayuki points to the door, she answers with a wink. “Let’s take a look at the problem. But I can’t promise to be cheerful if you can’t take care of your wounds.”

“Oh, I do have an order to carry out,” he says, and Shirayuki pauses. It’s not going to stop her from getting his wound set to rights, but if he’s going to protest she may have to bring in reinforcements. “Zen sends his love.”

“Enough about him,” Shirayuki snaps, and Obi stares down at her. Perhaps she was a little harsh, but that’s not who she wants to hear about right now. She pushes Obi into the examination room. “Now tell me how this happened.”

[nescaveckwriter]

Paintbrushes and Romance

Part One 🥰

Dean x reader

A/N: this is my first ever written piece on here, so let me know what y'all think, much love my little twinkies💞

Warnings: Talking of killing, swearing, police case, not sure what else.

,..............

The smell of freshly grounded coffee beans fills the cozy little coffee shop. There's about six or seven tables in the middle, but you always choose the little corner seat, mostly everyday you sit there, watching people, listening conversations, finding inspiration.

No one except the waitress ever notices you, though that's the way you like it, sitting there admiring the way autumn takes over the leaves, its always been your favourite season ever since you were that little girl, running around, playing with the leaves, your parents would get so mad at you, for messing up the garden, a smile tugs at the corner of your lips, your thoughts get inturupted by the waitress, need a fill up? Ah! Yes please Julie, I'd appreciate that, not getting much work done today, saying with a smile. Sure, Julie said, you'll get there, one day I'll know what you do for a living I guess... You laugh a little, yeah one day.

It's not that your in the secret service or something, its just, you are a very private person, despite the fact that you're a social media influencer, and an author of three best selling books. You're actually busy working on a new book right now, but its going slow, you need inspiration of the male character, but just can't seem to find one, hell you can't even think of one, and since its one of those spicy romance books, you can't exactly base the character loosely on your brother, that'll be damn weird. Deep in thought, you hear the bell of the door, chime, welcoming a new customer. You look up from your laptop and see its two men , one man looks like a freaking giant, brownish hair, kinda messy looking, hanging over his ears, the other one a bit shorter but still tall, with his dark blondish hair, neatly spiking in the air, with a little stubble beard enhancing the already amazing, sharp jaw line, pink rose plump lips forming a smile when he excitedly said, with a kinda gruffy voice, look Sammy, they've got pecan pie. Yeah okay! Let's take a seat, and try to behave said the taller one.

You can't help it, you are drawn too him, like a moth to a flame, you quickly look in your flower tote bag, grabbing your sketch book and favourite pencil, and with out waisting anymore time , you pick up the pencil and start sketching the outline, of his nearly perfect face, getting swept away in the aroma of the coffee, the outline of his face, the way his savouring every single bite of the pie, you just have to sketch this man, maybe you can loosely base your books character on him, damn he sure is good-looking you think sketching away.

.............

Damn Sammy, this pie is just what I needed, Dean said. How is it possible that we never came to this coffee shop, Dean said, looking over at Sam eating his salad, dude he said, live a little, try some pie! I'm fine, thanks man, you know I prefer healthy choices Sam said with a not amused look on his face. Yeah well, whatever, I prefer living a little, we can die at anytime with our line of work Dean said.

Dean can hear a sort of muddled sound of his brother's telling him something, but can't really focus, in the corner, is a woman sitting with black jeans and a black top with a long mustard yellow jersey, with flat shoes matching the black, the light coming through, shining on one side, making her appear like an angel, with a messy hair bun and loose pieces of hair framing hair face, she's wearing glasses with a purplish frame, complimenting her pale, white skin, she's biting her lip, while focussing on something, not quite sure what it is. She is medium built, definitely not the type of women he goes for with their sleek long legs and high heels, but damn she was beautiful, a kind of beautiful Dean had rarely seen!

Dean! Hey! Dude! Snap out of it, Sam said while hitting Dean on the shoulder! What! Is your problem Sam, Dean said frustration clearly in his voice. What the hell man, I've been talking for the past few minutes, and then I just lost you. Bite me, Dean said. Clearly confused Sam taking a bite of his salad, you okay Dean, is it this case that has you all worked up? Yeah maybe! We need to get this guy before he kills anyone else, Dean said frown visible taking another bite of pie, keeping an eye on you in the distance, thinking you take his breath away without even saying a single word...

[simplysedusa]

Your mean girls AU intrigues me. Please tell me Brick will be writing with a fluffy pink pen in his personal burn book haha 🔥 In all seriousness I love your vision of how Elmer ends up befriending the Ruffs ❤️ Ms. Keane would maybe be heartened to find the boys have included Elmer in their friend group. Elmer in painfully underutilized in fanfics and I personally think it’s because he might not be as cutesy as the other normie kids. He is such a great addition to the roster it’s a shame not more people adept him into their stories 😫

Lmao it's your fault/j /lh.

You mentioned Elmer joining the Ruffs for lunch and my mind started playing "Meet The Plastics" and it was downhill from there. Elmer would be Cady, and in this AU, he was homeschooled after 'Paste Makes Waste'. The Ruffs are the Plastics (Brick as Regina, Butch as Gretchen, and Boomer as Karen), and the Powerpuff Girls would be Elmer's Janis and Damian, who'd want Elmer to infiltrate. Julie Bean could be the Aaron Samuels (I'm 50/50 on Blossom being Aaron). Using the burn book and the tradition of wearing pink on Wednesdays (as well as the participation of the Christmas talent show thing) could all be a deal that the Ruffs had to make with HIM for their freedom.

Also this scene would be funny since I headcanon Elmer to be black with albinoism:

Boomer: So if your parents are black, why are you white?

Butch: Oh my God, Boom, you can't just ask people why they're white!

Moving on...

Ms. Keane would be THRILLED. I see Elmer being invited over for the first time, and he knocks, and Ms. Keane initially assumes he's there to "catch up" until one of the boys pops their head out of the room and beckons Elmer further into the house.

Ms. Keane, in her journal later that night, with tear drops on the page: September 12th, 4:54 p.m. The boys made a friend!

I could see something like that being the reason as to why we get little to no Elmer content. He definitely deserves more.

[violettduchess]

Hi there I hope not to bother I wanted to request something like that, how Leon, Luke, Chevalier, Clavis, hope they are not too much, would react with a MC that know and use more than one language, easily sliding from one to the other, Please take your time and take care Have a wonderful day :D

A/N: Here you are lovely Julie 💜

Word Count: 1361

Leon

You’ve snuck into town to enjoy a day away from the scrutiny of the palace. Now you and Leon stroll through the town hand-in-hand under a cloudy sky, the hoods of your cloaks obscuring your faces. He’s talking, his voice bright with laughter as he recalls a story from one of his first times sneaking out. You adjust your grip on his hand, grinning back at him as you round a corner and then you both stop, surprised by the brightly colored poster plastered on the side of the flower shop. A traveling circus judging by the illustrations but the words on the poster are not the language of Rhodolite.

Leon pauses, his handsome face drawn in a frown as he rubs his chin with his free hand. “I wonder what-”

You begin reading the words out loud, the sentences flowing effortlessly from your lips. None of the odd vowels trip you up because you fell in love with the musical sound of this language when you were small and decided determinedly you would decipher its secrets. You devoured music and books until you could speak it as well as your own native tongue. 

And now Leon stares, his eyes the sunshine the sky is missing as he listens to you. You pause, then begin translating what you just read. When you’re finished, there is silence and you pull your gaze away from the bright poster to look at him and what you see makes your heart stumble: wonder and respect twined together in expression of absolute love. He laughs softly, a short huff of air and slight shake of the head, before leaning down.

“God, I love you,” he whispers roughly before winding an arm around your waist and kissing you with a tenderness born of his admiration for you.

Luke

You find him in the palace kitchen after hours, when the shadows of dusk are creeping into corners and the light through the windows has faded from warm yellow to pale lavender-blue. Luke is sitting at a wooden table in the corner by the still-warm stove, flipping through a recipe book with an expression of dismay.

Pilfering a vanilla cookie from the ceramic jar on the counter, you slide into the chair next to him. You snap the crunchy treat in half, offering him one and he sighs, taking it and biting despondently.

“What’s wrong?”

“Cook was gifted this recipe book from a merchant travelling from Iolite, but no one here can read it. And look.” He points with a long finger at the pictures on the pages he’s been mooning over: They are clearly from some kind of honey cake recipe but all the text is written in Iolitian. 

You glance at him, then back to the book and then begin reading. “Hmm….you need brown sugar, cold, unsalted butter, and….hmm…vanilla bean paste and–” 

“You can read this?!” He cuts you off, his moss green eyes wide with surprise. You nod, a slow smile spreading across your lips. “I taught myself Iolitian when the bookstore was having a slow day. I never thought it might come in handy but-”

You’re cut off again but this time it’s because you are being wrapped in the biggest, warmest bear hug you've ever experienced. Your smile softens as you hug him back. It takes so little to make him so happy….and you’re grateful you have the chance to see the bright light of joy illuminate those soft springtime eyes. 

“So what do you say? Up for a little evening baking?”

Chevalier

You scan the library shelves, your fingers walking their way lightly along the leather-embossed spines of the books, wandering over the soft ridges, hoping to find the one that just screams “Read me tonight!” So engrossed are you in all the titles that you miss when the door opens and Chevalier enters.

He already has a book in his hand which he returns to exactly the right spot on the shelf. You feel the way he is ignoring you, the force of his disregard for you rolling through the room like waves in an ocean. You grit your teeth and ignore him right back, dropping down to read the titles of the books further down the bookshelf. 

Blue eyes, annoyed by your sudden movement, narrow and he turns his head. He watches the way you are intently reading the titles and one royal brow lifts. “Those are all foreign language books. I doubt you have need of them.”

Oh, his tone does things to you. The words roll across your skin, catching like little burrs. You reach for the first book in front of you, an epic poem written in the native language of Benitoite. Pointedly you rise, march over to a nearby table and sit, opening the book. Perhaps a tad dramatically.

He turns and then addresses you in perfect Benitoitian. Clearly he believes you've just grabbed any book at random and are pretending to read it in order to prove him wrong. But he knows nothing of your education. And of your passion for language. You straighten your spine, turn, and answer him in the same language. Your accent flawless, your pronunciation perfect. 

And you are rewarded by something as rare as the moon eclipsing the sun: surprise flashes for a moment in the depths of Chevalier’s sky-colored eyes. And suddenly your heart begins beating harder. And you want to see it again. So you switch, asking him "Would you prefer to speak in this tongue?" this time in the native tongue of Obsidian. And you ask him the same question again in Iolitian. And Tanzanitian. And Tourmaline.

You could go on but he raises his hand, stopping you. His gaze holds yours and now your heart is practically thundering in your chest because what you see those blue depths now isn’t surprise….but interest.

Clavis

A hand settles on your shoulder and a handsome, curious face is suddenly next to yours. “What has captured your attention so thoroughly when I am in the room?” You laugh, reaching up with one hand to affectionately cup his cheek. “I’m reading about the linguistic history of this area.” You point at the page you are on which has a list of all the different languages historically spoken throughout the kingdom as well as its neighbors and examples of how to say “hello” in all of them. He begins reading them out loud and finds himself stumbling when he gets to the language spoken in many parts of Obsidian.

You helpfully correct him and he blinks, brows raised in surprise as he stares at you. “Wait….you speak Obsidian?”

Nodding, you see delight suddenly sparking within the depths of his golden eyes. “Can you say…..’Clavis is amazing’.” Now you laugh, and repeat it back to him in Obsidian. His grin grows as he reaches for both your hands, pulling you up and away from your desk.

“And now can you say…..’Clavis is the most wonderful man in the entire kingdom’?” Your fingers interlock with his as you look up into the face you love so much and repeat it back to him, slowly, speaking ever so slightly below your normal register. A faint pink colors his cheeks as he listens to your voice, the one he is so familiar with, the one he dreams about, suddenly producing new sounds, sounds that twist and turn in ways he doesn’t know, can’t expect. His heart begins a heavier, excited beat in his chest.

“Can you…..” He gently pulls your locked hands closer, escaping your grip in order to slide his arms around your waist and pressing you close to him. “Say…..’Clavis….’ His head dips, his forehead touching yours, eyes glowing like golden stars. “....’I love you….’?” 

Your heartbeat echoes his, drumming loudly in your ears. Your gazes lock and you feel a cascade of sparks tumble down your spine, igniting something warm and exciting inside. When you speak, it’s in a soft, almost breathless voice. “Ich liebe dich, Clavis Lelouch. Ich brauche dich. Ich will dich…..”

His kiss stops the flow of Obsidian and as he lifts you into his arms, striding towards your bed, you understand that while spoken language is important, there are some things that require no words at all.

Tagging: @aquagirl1978 @alixennial @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-prince-writers-posts @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @redheadkittys @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @queen-dahlia @aceuuuuu @scorchieart

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[ros3ybabe]

Daily Check-in - July 27, 2023 🎀

Today was easier than yesterday, but I am still so sleepy and tired. I have to work a full shift tomorrow AND Saturday on top of my weekend chores so I'm hoping to take Sunday as a full self care day! Fingers crossed!!

🩷 What I Ate Today:

Breakfast - One slice of toast with mashed avocado, paprika, a fried egg, and a side of watermelon, and one cup of coffee.

Lunch - ground beef burrito bowl with black beans, shredded cheese, chopped iceberg lettuce, sour cream, salsa, and a low carb tortilla.

Dinner - One plate of spaghetti with meat marinara sauce, grated parmesean cheese, and two pieces of buttered bread

Other - One cup of coffee with French vanilla creamer

Water ~ 30oz I just forgot to drink water today, but using my water bottle has gotten easier and helped me drink more during the work day.

I didn't feel like snacking much today, and I couldn't finish my lunch, but I am very satisfied with my intake today! I love eating healthier and listening to my body. I do track what I eat, but I make sure it's food I like! Given my past, I can't do restrictions, so I choose to honor my wants in a way that works towards my goals and nourishes both my mind and body.

🩷 Workout - Upper Body Pilates (ish)

This one was really good! It was my first time trying it and it had my arms burning in a good way. I really enjoyed it, and I totally recommend. This is definitely going to be a regular of mine! 10/10

This one has been a favorite for a few years, I absolutely love the way it makes my arms feel. The movements are easy and effective, and leave me sore in a good way. Absolutely my favorite lean arms workout, hands down! 11/10

🩷 Habits I Completed Today:

Made my bed

Morning & Night Skincare

Morning & Night Guided Journal

Read 1 Chapter of a book

Workout

I forgot to do my mediation and stretching, and I didn't meet my hydration goal, but I'm taking every day in stride and doing what my energy allows me to accomplish. I believe in self compassion and flexibility in routine, especially given how my energy fluctuates on a daily basis. However, I am definitely doing the full habits list tomorrow, I'm going to challenge myself to accomplish every daily goal I have for myself!

🩷 Song of The Day: Eleven - IVE

This song makes me feel like a badass princess who deserves only the highest level of princess treatment. It's hard to describe how feminine and girly this song makes me feel, even on my most tomboyish, sweaty work days. An absolute bop!!

🩷 Current Read: Atomic Habits by James Clear

Tomorrow, I can do this. I can meet my goals, all of them. It'll take some effort, but I have faith in myself. Once I get the ball rolling, it's just a matter of forward motion with accomplishing each of my goals. I can't wait!!

I also need to budget for next Saturday, as I'm going shopping for some new clothes before my university opens back up for the fall semester. If I'm gonna feel my best, I'm going to look my best too! I'm really hoping to get a few new dresses, accessories (like hair stuff, pantyhose, jelwery, purses, etc), shoes, and maybe some tops and skirts too depending on what the store has. I love shopping, so I'm super excited!!!

Til tomorrow, my lovelies!! <3

[therottenkingsreckoning]

We're back with another one! Went through several agonizing rewrites here, stressing probably more than necessary that things all flow well and feels hit like they're supposed to. But finally, the whole extra long beast of a chapter is finished.

I'll put some stuff down below this like I did earlier- except this time, it's a link to the B Dylan Hollis recipe video I had in mind when Frank is talking about cake (a recipe I'd still love to try out myself) and the drawings of Apple the houpa I made ages ago.

Anyway, enough rambling. Fanfic ahoy!

Little Flame, chapter 7

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was one thing for Eddie to be nervous. After all, his mate and child were on the line if anything happened. But it was another thing entirely when the other neighbors starting treating Frank the same way.

"Oop, watch your head there!" Howdy called out, passing by them with armfuls of boxes. Frank had been helping out around the bodega lately, a way of repaying the stolen test which had over time morphed into a biweekly half-job. It was also a chance for the two to hang out, since they otherwise wouldn't have done.

"I'm just saying, you should give it a chance," Frank said, continuing where he'd left off in both sweeping and conversation. "Beans add a nice richness you don't get from the regular stuff."

"But in a cake? Really? Apple, move outta the way." Howdy nudged the houpa with his foot, earning little more than a mrrp? in response. "If ya ask me, it sounds like the cravings might be getting to your head right now."

Frank huffed. "This was before I'd gotten pregnant, so I highly doubt that would've had an affect on my taste."

"Heh, if ya say so," Howdy replied, beginning to unpack the first box of the stack he'd set down beside him.

Frank would've responded further, they already knew what to say. Unfortunately though, the now awake cat-horse that was Howdy's pet had deemed his broom a suitable plaything, clamping the bristles between his hooves & teeth with considerable force.

"Nggh ...God, it's no use trying to get anything done around this animal!" he scoffed, ceding the tool to its new rightful owner. "Why do you even still keep him here?"

"Hey now, you heard what Ember said, he can't be released into the wild. And I've caught you snuggling this big dork several times, so don't try to claim you don't like him too." A lower hand grabbed the scientist's arm as they were reaching for a box, the taller shaking his head firmly. "Uh uh, no heavy lifting for you Mr. Mom."

Frank let out a noise of frustration as he realized what Howdy was saying. "Oh come on, not you too! It's like I suddenly can't do anything anymore!"

"Sorry fella, I just couldn't live with myself if you got hurt. Not to mention Eddie would probably have my head for it." The caterpillar shrugged his shoulders in succession. "Matter of fact, I can probably take care of the rest here if you wanna get going. It's been great, but I'm sure you've got stuff you wanna do."

Frank took the offer, begrudgingly. Howdy was wrong, he didn't really have anything better to do with his time. But they'd certainly not be made to sit uselessly inside the shop! No, he'd go see what Julie was up to.

Outside was nice, the weather warm and a little windy. the sounds of birds and bugs made gentle music on Frank's ears, and he felt their spirits lifted as he walked along the path. No sense in letting it get to me now, they thought. He's wrong, but I'll let him be wrong. I've got a day to enjoy.

They passed by Barbie's house, the dog herself just stepping out when she noticed him and raised a paw in friendly greeting. "Hey there Frank, you heading to Julie's house?"

"Indeed I am," Frank answered simply.

"I'll go with ya then!" she said cheerfully, not waiting for an answer as she strode up beside the grey. "Got a book I was gonna return to her anyway."

Frank let out a heavy, dramatic sigh and kept walking. "Alright, but if you get too annoying I'll go somewhere else."

In truth it was mostly just for show, and he suspected she knew that too. They'd gotten along well in recent months, her frequent visits to Julie's house meaning the two had had plenty of time to get to know each other better. And Frank was grateful for a distraction in any case, as she rambled cheerfully about everything and nothing.

"...he's got paints set aside for that, mixed the batches up himself" she chuckled, wiggling her fingers for emphasis. "Doesn't want me dippin' my big ol' mitts into the good stuff."

Frank nodded. "Suppose that does make sense. There's much less oil paint, and it really isn't meant f-"

"SHH!"

Words and walking stopped short as one of those same big hands swept out to catch him. "There's something up ahead," the dog growled, all cheerfulness gone as her ears perked and eyes narrowed to scan the treeline. Frank looked around himself, feeling a growing fear creep into the pit of their stomach until-

A squirrel darted from between the lower branches of a tree, running swiftly past them to the other side of the road. "Phew, thought it was somethin' big," Barbie said, releasing the iron grip she'd had on the smaller's shoulders.

Frank wriggled out of her grasp and frowned. "You're really getting this worked up over squirrels?" He scoffed, arms folded.

Sheepishly, she shrugged. "Can't really help it, sorry. I guess it's some kinda instinct that tells me I need to keep ya safe. Especially right now, with uhh...things bein' the way that they are."

"You mean my pregnancy."

"...yeah."

Frank grumbled, pinching the bridge of their nose. "I don't need you protecting me Barbara, I can handle all this on my own."

Barbie opened her mouth to protest further, but a glare from the other shut her down quickly. "Yeah, fine I won't bug ya about it," she sighed. Then grinning, added, "Don't suppose you mind bugs though."

Frank groaned out loud. My God, this was the worst one yet! Barbie gladly took the victory as a sign to press further, the two subconciously falling into familiar rhythms of grump and jokester until they were suddenly right outside a familiar pink dwelling.

Unsurprisingly, Julie was the middle of planning a game when they arrived, marking hopscotch squares out with chalk. "Frank!! and Barbie too!" She squealed excitedly upon seeing her friends, jumping to her feet and giving both of them a warm hug. Still on the ground, Sally laughed softly and waved a hello. "Already done with your work at the bodega dear?"

"Yes, well, he allowed me to leave early," Frank said with a roll of his eyes, sitting down beside her on the dirt. "We had a bit of a disagreement over my current capabilities."

"Oh, I'm sure he's simply worried for you darling," Sally reassured, "We all are."

Frank sighed. The condescension was beginning to get annoying, but he didn't want to ruin things with an argument when they'd just arrived. For your friends, for Julie, he thought, mentally gritting his teeth as he silently picked up another of the hula hoops the star was inexplicably wrapping in colorful tape.

Next to them, Julie was explaining the rules of her new game. "So if it lands on heads, you gotta run around the neighborhood before they catch you."

"Ough, might wanna lay off the runnin' right now," said Barbie. " 'S at least two of us who can't do much of that."

Frank turned to look at her. It was quite clear she was referring to themselves, yet he rationalized- not an unfair proclamation. It's true, I can't really run too far now without getting winded. No need to get worked up...

Julie seemed to consider it, a worrying look of worry starting to creep over the monster's features. "Oh that is true, we gotta be careful with Frank right now! Don't wanna hurt the baby."

Frank's heart sank. Oh no. Not her. They could handle the others, could pretend their opinions didn't matter to him. But Julie... "You don't need to..." he started.

"Better take out the ball-throwing too in that case!" Sally interrupted. "Maybe even these hula hoops, they could hit someone's stomach pretty hard if you spin them fast."

"That's..."

"Perfect thinking!" Julie proclaimed, already pulling her her notes to make amendments. "No running, no throwing..."

"Julie please," Frank begged, increasingly upset.

It fell on deaf ears. The three were talking as though he wasn't even there, oblivious to the building whine of stress & overstimulated rage happening inches away.

"Take out-"

"Better change-"

"Really for the best that we-"

"STOP IT!!!" Frank screamed, jumping up to his feet and throwing the hoop somewhere off into the distance. Their breath was ragged, his eyes burned so badly with tears that they didn't dare open them. "Why don't you trust me to do anything right now???? Why are you treating me this way?!?"

Dead silence filled the air, even the sounds of nature seemingly stunned by his outburst. All that was there was the rustling wind and his heavy breathing, through gritted teeth and shaking hands. Julie gently touched their arm, but he smacked it away, not wanting touch or care right now. "And you especially Julie! I thought you of all people would understand."

"Frank I'm-"

"Shut up," he huffed, already marching away. "Just shut up."

Frank felt so sick, and tired, and angry. Why was everyone like this right now? Just because he was pregnant, he was suddenly unable to throw a ball, or lift a box, or do anything he could've done five months ago? "It's like all they care about is you," he snarled, poking at their belly, "I'm just a vessel."

A sudden splash, and wetness seeped into his sock. As though this awful, awful day couldn't get any worse, he'd stepped into a puddle. But maybe it was the anger twisting their mind around- it felt good now. A puddle's full of awful germs they wouldn't want me touching. Shame if I...

SPLASH! his other foot stomped down hard into the mud, sending water flying up onto his trousers. SPLASH SPLASH! they danced and kicked around in it, somehow reveling right now in how awful it felt, how forbidden.

"I'm doing things! I might hurt myself!" He sang out loud to no one, grabbing a nearby tree branch and pulling. "Won't somebody stop me?!" It snapped, and he tumbled back into the dirt, giggling manically as they stood up and swung it back into the trunk like a sword. Then again, and again as the rage turned to violence and then into tears. Frank sank into the dirt, breathing hard as he sobbed.

"Are you ok?"

Frank opened his eyes to a familiar blue swirl above them, its owner giving them a look of confusion. "Go away," the taller sniffled angrily. Last thing he needed was people caring.

"Ok," Wally answered simply with a shrug, already turning around to start walking away. In that moment, with just how completely messed up this whole day had been, it was this simple lack of concern that struck Frank's heart all of a sudden. "Come back," he sniffled, sitting up. And Wally did.

"You're not worried about me?"

Wally raised a non-existent eyebrow. "Well yeah, if you're crying in the dirt and hitting things I'll be concerned."

"But you don't think I'm...less capable? Just because of my being pregnant?"

Things seemed to click for the demon then, sitting down next to Frank. "Who told you that? No- I mean I've never been pregnant, but as far as I know that doesn't mean you can't do things."

"Exactly! But everyone acts like I suddenly can't, or I shouldn't in case...something happens, I guess. I don't know." Frank gripped on to the broken branch, picking away at its bark as they spoke. "First Eddie being too scared of letting me climb, then at Howdy's when he wouldn't let me lift the boxes, those I could sort of understand. But then Barbie, then Sally and even Julie..." he trailed off.

Wally seemed to think. "You want me to tell them to knock it off?" he offered. "If they won't listen to you, maybe they'll listen to me instead."

"Tch," Frank hissed. "That's the whole problem though. They won't listen to me! It's...it's like I don't even matter, my feelings don't matter, and all that's important is-"

"Frank..."

Frank and Wally both looked over to see their friends standing in the road. Julie, Sally, Barbie, and Eddie still breathing slightly hard from running towards the sound of his partner's yelling.

"Hello friends," Wally spoke, his usually cheerful greeting tinged right now with the slightest anger. "Frank was telling me about how you haven't been treating them very well."

"I'm sorry," Julie sobbed, quite visibly shocked & heartbroken. "I had no idea it would upset you that much."

"You would've if you'd listened!" Frank retorted. "I was trying to tell you, and you kept talking over me."

"We...we were only trying to help..." Sally piped up nervously, then winced at the glare shot her way. "Right, you're right though. It is... your baby, we shouldn't overstep your bounds like that."

Eddie slowly approached Frank, gently helping them back to his feet. "I guess...we're all just real excited for that right now," he said. "We wanna make sure that things go right."

"That doesn't mean-" Wally started, but Frank cut him off with a gentle wave. "It's ok, I can handle it." And now that things were fully out in the open, now that his blood had settled down from its boiling point, he could.

They sighed. "I know you mean well, but... it hurts. I'm still me! I can still do things! I promise I'm not as fragile as you think, even right now. I just...I need you all to trust me, and if something truly feels like it's a risk, I'll let you know, ok?"

Julie hugged him gently, checking first he was comfortable with touch right now. "I'm a terrible friend," she said. "I'm sorry."

"You're not, I promise." Frank squeezed her tight. All anger gone, he felt so tired in her arms, and glad to have those arms back to hold. "We're all new to this thing, and you're trying your best. Just...don't do it again, ok?"

They all nodded, still shuffling awkwardly. "Hey," the grey offered with a weak smile. "How about this? You let me pick all the rules for the next game."

"Ok!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~