#sunight

[lindamarieansonsnaps]

[stonerzelda]

im gona find one of those sites that prints whatevr jpeg u sendthem on random objects and get u abunch of zelda cdi merch king harkinian throw rugs and funni zelda/link mugs and shit . u deserve only the best 💕💕

💘💝✨️💕💓💖💛🧡❤️💚💙💜💗🍓🥝🫐🍇🍪🍩🍰🎂🍨🍭🌟🌺🌴💞🦄;______; CRIES YOU ARE SO FACKINGE SWEET 2 ME LETS KILL SOMEBODY‼️‼️ do you want 2 go get matchjng tattoos of this btw 👉👈

[throwing-roses-into-the-abyss]

a couple (3, to be precise) of my rosemary and lavender seeds have germinated and they are. SO TINY. I'm in love.

[ceoofyearning]

Say Yes to Heaven - Lucien

Pairing: Lucien × Reader

Summary: You find the bed empty upon waking up. Bundled in your blanket, you head out to find Lucien and demand that he warm you up.

Tags & Warnings: Fluff, suggestive but nothing explicit (if i miss anything, let me know)

Word Count: 1077

Links: Masterlist

Sunight creeps languidly through the heavy drapes, heralding the persistent call of the waking world. The day has come, and in minutes, the entire room is bathed in golden light. You’re forced to relinquish the last dregs of sleep clinging to you. You roll over expecting to find Lucien beside you, only to see that his side of the bed is empty. You run your palm over the sheets and find them still warm.

With one last stretch, you pull yourself out of the bed and onto your feet. You wrap the blanket tightly around your shoulders, not ready to give up their warm embrace just yet. The manor is deathly quiet as you pad through the hallways as if the rest of the world is as reluctant to wake too. The persistent chill of winter remains in the air, the tiles as cool as ice beneath your feet. The blanket trails on the floor behind you, and you can already imagine the legendary scolding Jurian would give you if he were to catch you. You imagine Vassa would only laugh at you, if she wasn't too busy being a bird.

Thankfully, no such altercations occur, and you find Lucien sitting in the library, busy reading what you assume are reports from Prythian. He’s lounging by the fire, clad only in his rumpled, unbuttoned tunic and plain trousers. His legs are carelessly spread, his cheek resting on his hand - the picture of relaxed nonchalance. Lucien wears finery like a fine suit of armor, his bravado like a sword secured at his hip, and it’s rare to see him so unguarded, so candid. When he spots you, all bundled up, by the door, a bemused expression makes its way across his face.

“You left,” you sniff indignantly.

His only response to your complaint is a smirk. So you pad deeper into the room until you're standing in between his legs. The smug look on his face only seems to grow at the increased proximity.

“Why?” He asks. “Did you miss me?” Lucien’s eyes trail down your body with deliberate slowness, stalling over your exposed thighs. His hand comes up to grasp the side of your hip, a movement made instinctually, naturally, as though his existence only makes sense when you’re there, with him.

You don’t deign to respond, but you let him pull you onto his lap. He wraps his arms around you, tucking you under his chin as he continues to read. You sink onto him, enjoying the heat that perpetually radiates off his body. He’s basically a sentient furnace, your love. Your hands trail beneath his shirt and he jolts the moment your cold hands make contact with his skin.

“Mother’s tits, you’re freezing.” He exclaims, wiggling in his seat.

“Because you left,” you retort, running your hands languidly over his back. Goosebumps rise in the wake of your touch. “This is your doing, miscreant.”

Lucien cackles but recovers. “Apologies, my lady,” Lucien says with exaggerated gravity, his hand over his chest. “I’m adequately chastised. I’ll be sure never to abandon you in bed again.”

“You better,” you threaten, trying to fight the smile from emerging on your lips. “Or else I’ll find someone else to warm my bed.”

Lucien stiffens, holding you tighter against him as if readying to fight off anyone who dares to draw near. With his hand on your chin, he lifts your head to meet his gaze.

“What was that?” He speaks, something dangerous lingering in the depths of his words.

You raise your brow in challenge. “I said, if you keep leaving me I’ll find-“

He shuts you up with his lips on yours, but it’s a soft fragile thing. His lips move against yours like the back and forth of a waltz. Lucien pulls you tighter into his embrace, enveloping you in the scent of sandalwood, cinnamon, and smoke. You melt against him and think that you could stay like this forever, as long as you’re with him. You want to lay here even as the world cracks and burns around you, until the both of you are covered in ivy, moss, and memory.

As if sensing the direction of your thoughts, Lucien deepens the kiss. Your lips willingly part for him and he licks into your mouth, eager for a taste. His hands are molten against your skin, kneading the pliant flesh of your hips from where your nightgown has ridden up. You can feel his chest expand as he inhales your scent as if reminding himself that you’re with him, in this moment, and there you will remain until your body gives out from the force of loving him.

Eventually, the two of you have to break the kiss. Just there, his forehead on yours, breathing the other in. Idly, you tap your finger over the freckles on his chest, parsing them like constellations in the night sky. You wonder what prophecies you’d be able to divine in the shapes they take. You press a kiss on the freckle over his beating heart, and Lucien shudders beneath your touch.

You move to the wealth of freckles spread across his cheek, over his nose, then on his chin. Lucien pretends to be preoccupied with the reports, but it’s a losing battle. There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips, and you plant a soft, chaste kiss at the upturned corner. You kiss him like he’s an object of worship, and only your heart, your body, your whole being would be a worthy sacrifice.

“Is that the only thanks I get for being your sentient, walking furnace?” He teases, brow arched, but not unkindly. “Threats and a few kisses?” Beams of sunlight hit his face like a lattice of amber, accentuating his sharp features, and setting his russet eye ablaze. And it strikes you just how damn pretty he is, scars and all.

“I’d prefer it if my sentient furnace did not walk away at all,” you retort, raising your brow in turn.

“Ungrateful,” he teases, even as he begins to trail tender kisses over your neck. “You’re lucky I adore you, dearly.”

You huff, pretending his words haven’t set you aflame in a way only he can.

“I suppose,” you begin, tapping your finger over your chin. “I could be persuaded to thank you properly if you go back to bed with me.”

Lucien glances at the report and pretends to consider it for three whole seconds, before setting it down the table with finality. He smiles, as bright as the sun, beautiful, blinding, yours.

“Let's go then,” he says, as he easily carries you back to your room.

AN:

Hello! I’m new to this fandom & I’d love to hear your thoughts. 💙

i’ve been so obsessed with Lucien recently. I made art of him and I love how people kept mentioning his freckles so here is we are. + I hate the cold and had the thought that Lucien would be the perfect person to cuddle up to in winter.

[inaliakitsune]

Sales for the Optimus Prime sticker close tonight at 8pm MST!

The 5”x5” thats perfect for your vehicles will NOT be restocked after this so dont miss your chance!

[valiantsword]

selene @underworldfcrged asked, " tell me, what are you really scared of? "

arthur pruitt had never been afforded the luxury of emotion. before begrudgingly taking place in vampire nobility he'd been king of his own kingdom, very far away. he'd been dying in the grass, miles from home, when the face of markus shimmered in the moonlight like one of the angels the christians were always spouting off about. in those moments, while he thought he was coming to an end, his thoughts were of the child that would grow up without a father. it was of the wife he'd be leaving behind and the lover they'd both taken. lancelot would ( and had ) take care of her but arthur still worried of who would care for them both.

next, as lips part to answer the question, he thinks of sonja. he thinks of the noble viktor had ordered both he and desiderius to intimidate into paying tribute only to find their beloved death dealer had been executed.

" what i can't control, " the vampire manages with a smile. he lifts a hand to cup her cheek and uses it to bring himself in for a kiss to selene's cheek. " something grave happening while i'm away and having no control to prevent it or fix it. " desiderius had wailed in anguish like his own lover had been taken by the sunight, so close was his bond with sonja. the wolves had given them berth, then. " i'm scared of not being able to say goodbye. "

[seasaltea]

Things from this early afternoon that I’m grateful for:

-Getting off work 5 hours early.

-Kind supervisors.

-Every free minute in my old house, with my mom, baby, and brother.

-My car, and how it gets me literally everywhere.

-My noise-cancelling purple headphones. And my ears. And music.

-Unimposing sunight directly on my skin & face on a brisk day.

-School.

-Ceremonies for finishing school.

-Happy and proud people that celebrate ceremonies for finishing school with flowers and loved ones.

-Chocolate with filling inside.

-Being able to turn off office lights.

-the Jehovah’s Witnesses that visit my mom’s house.

-Sweaters that fit and aren’t turtlenecks.

-Pause buttons.

-Memories of people that aren’t around anymore.

-Phlebotomists that are careful to poke you only once.

-Businesses that are open on Sundays.

-Sugar scrubs. And all their different scents and flavors.

-Freshly made sauce and blenders. And spicy peppers.

[morewoe]

"In  a  place  like  this,  I  simply  cannot  imagine  a  time  when  sweets  are  not  abundant."  So  different  from  their  home,  where  some  days  seemed  to  be  a  fight  against  nature  itself,  to  remain  in  their  home.  Stubborn  resolve,  rather  than  granted.  She  missed  the  cold  dearly,  but  there  was  something  to  be  said  for  the  comforts  of  the  Reach.  "Oh,  well..."  She  laughed,  unable  to  contain  her  smile.  "This  way.  I  think  this  one  of  the  servants  hallways,  so  it  lets  out  near  the  orchard.  Which  is  ideal,  I  suppose,  for  there  will  be  fewer  ears  to  overhear.  I  would  hate  for  one  of  the  recipients  of  your  notes  to  ever  find  out  they  were  not  sent  by  the  object  of  their  affections."  It  was  a  far  more  winding  path  than  the  direct  routes,  but  as  footsteps  echoed  off  stone,  it  was  far  more  remote.  On  coming  to  a  heavy  wooden  door,  less  opulent  than  those  made  for  view  for  guests,  she  pushed  it  open  with  no  small  amount  of  force,  squinting  in  the  sudden  sunight.  "I  want  to  hear  everything.  I  was  so  consumed  with  trying  to  finish  my  card,  I  had  little  time  to  catch  up  with  anyone."

"And we shall not be the ones to inform them. The sweets simply must keep coming." With one hand on the neck of the lute and another in his cousin's, Martyn hurried after her, wholly impressed by her knowledge of secret paths, some of which even he didn't know about. The moment they arrived to Highgarden, they made sure to find any and all escape routes, both to make sure they had the knowledge, should anything go south, whether it was for political reasons, or because a joke of theirs wasn't received well. "Whoever taught you must be proud of how far you've come." He smiled to himself as a rush of warmth went through him, centering in the center of his chest, happy to be included in Myra's plans, even if it was just him helping her. "Well... you've done the hard work, which was bringing them here. I suppose all we've to do is enjoy them to the fullest of our capabilities. Let us have a picnic! Which way to the gardens? I'll tell you all about my triumphs and follies at the ball."

[raxei-ra]

[katiethompson]

Emma

photography: @katiethompson​

hair/makeup: Bianca Hartkopf

[yasu19-67]

Kodak GOLD200／春来

[minnesotamedic186]

*I just sigh and pat Sunight on the head*

Just make sure you let him eat those treats soon, I don't think Sunlight has the same patience as another Dogday I know

Well... When you look at him again...

He already ate the cookie long ago, not even leaving crumbs.

"...Sorry..."

[stephanocardona]

Baby Oystercatchers by johschermer

[beccawillowmoss]

[magicalforestfairy]

Bondegården

[artisticallytrashy]

I absolutely adore funky coloured glasses, golden rays of sunlight and the way morning frost shimmers like glitter in the fog.