#the wind in the willows aesthetic
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blessedidolatry · 5 months ago
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Appalachia at dawn
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flowersforfrancis · 2 years ago
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Wind in the Willows. Kenneth Grahame, 1908.
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bbunnieser · 3 months ago
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᭙ⅈꪀᦔ ⅈꪀ 𝕥ꫝꫀ ᭙ⅈꪶꪶꪮ᭙ડ- ᭙ꫝⅈડρꫀ𝕣ⅈꪀᧁ 𝕣ꫀꫀᦔડ ᥇ꪗ ᥴꫝ𝕣ⅈડ ᦔꪊꪀꪀ 🐸🦉🦫🦨
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rubypomegranates · 1 month ago
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“The past was like a bad dream; the future was all happy holiday as I moved Southwards week by week, easily, lazily, lingering as long as I dared, but always heeding the call!”
Kenneth Grahame "The Wind in the Willows”
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autumncottageattic · 8 months ago
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fox_and_blueberry
inspired by Chris Dunn's illustration
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littleflowerfaith · 11 months ago
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Go well my friend, and walk in the light of faith.
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daveythedaywalker · 5 months ago
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The gays
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firebird04 · 1 year ago
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Inktober day 8: 'toad'
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Mr Toad of Toad Hall and his (frustrated) friends, Ratty and Mole
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neptunefairytales · 2 years ago
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Lamb!
(NSFW AND KINK ACCOUNTS DO NOT INTERACT !!!)
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stearleart · 1 year ago
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Ratty The river rat 09/02/24
Ink illustration of Ratty, the River Rat, from Kenneth Grahame's 1908 classic, The Wind in the Willows.
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damasscus · 1 year ago
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Art by Kozke
My safe place. Fun little cottage. Cozy house. :3
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wallflowerglitter · 9 months ago
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flowersforfrancis · 2 years ago
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I aim to be. One day.
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neverpeace · 1 year ago
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lizzie harlow tags
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rubypomegranates · 4 days ago
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“The moon, serene and detached in a cloudless sky, did what she could, though so far off, to help them in their quest; till her hour came and she sank earthwards reluctantly, and left them, and mystery once more held field and river.”
Kenneth Grahame "The Wind in the Willows”
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ultravi0lence14 · 2 months ago
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SWEET ANGEL
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dean winchester x angel!reader
2.5k | angst, enemies to lovers, szn nine
summary: with angel now living in the bunker, dean has to swallow his pride and realize not everyone is out to get him.
WHEN ANGEL FALLS IN LOVE
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the drab walls of your room in the winchester’s bunker stared back at you, almost taunting in how their beige and gloomy colours looked around you. it was coming up on week four post fall, almost a month since you were locked out of heaven, and you seemed to be making absolutely no progress.
sam had tried to teach you about humans, explaining different types of slang and technologies that they had created. though, he decided to stop after his brief pop culture unit turned into a brutal argument stemming from your confusion.
it didn’t make it any better that you had no clothes. your white dress from the day you were found under the wilting willow was all you had; grass and mud washed away though the memories still lingered.
everything was starting to become unbearable. the scratchy sheets on your bed, the barren walls with no life or colour. your day to day routine wasn’t too bad. wake up, talk with sam about humanity and it’s customs, try a new snack, and then hobble away to your room where you’d indulge in copious amounts of youtube videos and pinterest boards.
there happened to be an old laptop of sam’s lying around, and after some grumbling from dean, both he and his younger brother helped you set up and navigate the device.
dean was a topic you wished to never bring up or even think about. the man stuck to his word, not talking to you unless you initiated first. even then he sometimes wouldn’t respond. when he did, it was always snippy responses that had you rolling your eyes, retreating to where you actually felt wanted; an enigma of a place that you created in your own company.
the internet was something you marvelled at. looking at a plethora of video content on youtube, and all different types of pictures on pinterest.
a sense of fashion was something you started to pick up on, looking at countless pieces online and even grabbing magazines from the store when sam would take you out with him.
your angelic roots peaked through in the fashion and aesthetic you gravitated towards. a girly vibe was always something you enjoyed, but you also seemed to like the more quirky and unique styles. skirts, plain and colourful tights, bright sweaters and form fitting tops seemed to find a way into your brain; the drab cotton dressed you landed on earth in going to shame as you looked at all the different patterns and fashion choices.
it finally dawned on you that this is what you needed. the boring walls, uncomfortable bedding, and borderline empty room just wasn’t doing it for you anymore. you needed to find yourself, express who you wanted to be without the chains of heaven wrapped around your body.
you needed to go shopping, and fast, but there was simply one problem. sam had left yesterday to go help some hunter friends on a case, leaving in their car and expressing how he’d be back in two weeks time. so, it seemed as though dean was the only person who could help you with your recent epiphany.
the plan was a lost cause, but begrudgingly, you got up from your bed and made the short walk to dean’s room. twirling your hair nervously, you found yourself stood in front of his door, hearing the faint sound of music coming from what you assumed to be his record player. slowly lifting your hand, you let a delicate knock linger on the wood; a drastic change from the intense music playing from behind the door.
music halted, a metaphorical record scratch being heard as heavy feet came towards the door. wind blew the front pieces of your hair back, and you were greeted with dean’s gloomy face as he stared down at you from where he stood.
“what do you want, feathers?” his words had a cadence of annoyance, like he’d rather be doing anything else but talk to you. it made you wring your fingers together, picking at your cuticles as you looked up at him through your lashes. “i have a favour to ask.”
if this were any other occasion, dean would say no. hell, he’d probably slam the door in your face. but those eyes, those goddamn eyes that stared into his soul. they were big, giving your already angelic features a doe-like look. dean was mentally kicking himself at how easily he was folding.
with a sigh, he cocked his head to his right, staring at you intently, a way to mask how your look was making him feel. “i’ll only say yes ‘cause sammy’s away — but tell me what it is first. i’m not going on some whack ass trip all ‘cause you batted your eyes at me all pretty.”
the words that left dean’s lips had your own parting in shock, eyes widening even more. he was so strange. one second he hated you and the next he was flirting like you were a girl he saw at the bar. but you decided a while ago to not question dean’s ways, for diving in too deep would be like swimming in the mariana’s trench.
with a light cough, you continued your recent proposal as dean looked down at you with a cocky grin on his face. “i want to decorate my room, get new clothes, really integrate myself into society. and before you complain, i’ve been wearing the same dress for a month; it’s time for a change.”
dean would love to say no, he truly would. he’d love to laugh in your face, tell you that your sweet and innocent act wasn’t working on him. every angel — besides cas — that sam and dean had come across left them with more problems then they started out with. why should dean trust you?
but over the past weeks, he couldn’t help but realize how unreasonable he was being. cas trusted you, and sam seemed to be doing just fine in hanging out with you everyday. dean had to swallow his pride and realize that someone wasn’t planning to hurt him or his brother, that all you had on your mind was reinventing yourself and not dwindling into psychosis by staring into your empty abyss of a room.
though it was dean at the end of the day, and he could never admit that for once he was wrong. so with practiced ease, he pushed down those feelings and huffed loudly, reaching across the door frame for his keys and pushing past you out the door.
“c’mon feathers,” he grumbled as you stood by his door shocked, not knowing how to react to dean actually wanting to help you. “hurry up before i change my mind.”
the car ride was tense, an awkward tension that had you smushing into the side door. dean’s music blared through the speakers, a testimony on the fact he didn’t want to talk to you. there was no place in your bones that had you wanting to talk to him, but after 2 hours in the car, you got confused on where he was going.
“umm, dean?” you questioned, turning your body towards his and watching as his jaw ticked from his side profile. “where are we going?”
he didn’t turn his head, didn’t look away from the road as his jaw tensed and his fingers gripped on the steering wheel. “minnesota.” your lips parted, confused on why he was going to a whole different state before he spoke again. “you’ve never been to the mall of america. i’m giving you important life experiences, feathers.”
dean watched as your eyes widened, pouty lips opening wide as shock filled your body. he honestly didn’t know why he was driving a whole ten hours for you to go shopping. it was unnecessary, but dean couldn’t stop himself from continuing his drive.
“oh.” your voice came out breathy, your head going down to your chest as you fiddled with your fingers. “well, i’ve never been on a drive this long. what do you do?”
what did you do? when he was with sam, it was like muscle memory. sit in silence for a bit, jokingly bicker back and forth, sam would sleep for a bit. but you had never done this before. so dean had to think of a whole new way to keep you entertained.
he truly was trying to work on his animosity towards you. so with a sigh he turned slightly to look at you. “some people sleep, some talk to the whole time. what do you wanna do, sweetheart?”
“can you tell me about your views on the world?” your words had dean fully turning his head to look at you. he briefly gave you a confused look before turning back to the road. why would you ask that? he understood you were an angel, a heavenly creature that didn’t know anything about her own father’s creation, but why did you what to know his views on it?
sensing his confusion, you backtracked as best as you could, shaking your head and staring out the car window at all the trees and fields melding together like molten lava. “i just mean, i’ve heard how sam feel’s about certain things, but i want to know how you feel. your favourite music, movies, what your dreams are. i don’t know dean, i just want to know more.”
he was shocked, not ever having someone ask him what his dreams and favourite things were. he slightly turned his head again, eyes watching as your hair curtained your face. tentatively, he pulled his hand away from the steering wheel so he could brush the strands away from your face. your cheeks blushed as he tucked it behind your ear, hand gracing your cheek softly as he let it fall down your arm.
“sure, whatever you want, angel.”
that’s how you two spent the rest of the drive; dean raving on about all his favourite things while you silently listened, inventively taking in all his interests. you noticed how over time he became more open, excitedly talking about his interests from childhood to now. it was nice, listening to all the things that made dean, well, dean.
it wasn’t even like he wanted to stop. this was one of the most relaxing drives he’s had in a while. you didn’t interrupt him, you just sat and listened. sitting in his front seat like the heavenly angel you were and looking more like a painting than a celestial being.
dean even drove through the night, not wanting to wake you as you slept so pretty in the car. he didn’t mind not getting any sleep if it meant not waking you up to go to a motel. he was also accustomed to not sleeping for days, so he was honestly fine.
the mall finally came into view just as your eyes peeled open. you were confused, not used to the notion of sleeping. it was like a massive weight had lifted off your chest, arising like snow white out of her bed of flowers. as you noticed where you were, you excitedly looked at the structure, eyes wide in awe as you scrambled out of the car and dashed towards the entrance.
you were like an excited bunny, hopping around from store to store as dean kept a close eye on you. each shop you came out with something new — god bless fake credit cards — and dean had to stop himself from thinking about how pretty you looked in certain items.
at first you needed to figure out what your size was, so dean would be succumbed to sitting in stuffed changing rooms with obnoxious pop music playing while you tried on tops and skirts behind a flimsy curtain. when you came out in your first outfit — a long sleeve black and white striped top with a denim mini skirt — dean almost passed out in the fucking store.
his breath almost lodged in his throat, making him choke on his own breath like a damn child. that white dress of yours never let him see how long your legs truly were. they exemplified the skirt low on your hips while your just as long torso helped the shirt fit perfectly.
he knew you were a tall person, but holy shit.
you were like a fucking model. dean had to remind himself of his forced hate towards you for if he didn’t, he’d push you into that change room with his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet.
when dean awkwardly mentioned that you probably needed to buy some undergarments, he sat outside the victoria’s secret as you toddled in with a perplexed look on your face and his credit card in hand. the bag you came out with was massive, and dean was enough of a gentlemen to not look inside or too close to it.
the rest of the stores were a blur. a plethora of bags filled with tight fitted zip ups — some knitted, multiple skirts, tight fitted tops, cozy and colourful sweaters, a multitude of coloured tights, brown and black suede boots, and even more dresses that dean swore that it wouldn’t all fit in the impala.
it didn’t make it any better that you even shopped for your room. floral sheets with ruffled pillow cases, a white comforter, multiple tall, thick and short candles to decorate the space, and a multitude of prints and paintings that had dean shocked by your artistic eye.
as you finished at the mall, dean decided that a couple of thrifts store wouldn’t hurt. you were enthralled, looking around and grabbing as many cool trinkets as you could for your shelves. he found you a used cd player, taking you to the section with cd’s so you could pick out some music.
sam had gotten you a spotify account, so you knew the stuff you liked. songs and albums from artists dean didn’t even know you knew about graced your cart. britney spears, alanis morissette, carrie underwood, abba, fleetwood mac, and other similar artists that dean didn’t simply like, but he’d buy them just for you.
he even saw you pick up old one direction and justin bieber cd’s, and decided to not even question you on it.
you were so excited, and dean didn’t want to dim the ravenous sparkle that lilted your eyes. you rambled on about how you were going to revamp the old furniture without even needing to buy new ones, how the art studio stool that you bought for the desk was going to be so much better than the uncomfortable wood chair.
dean promised he’d take you to shops around the bunker to get essentials like comfy clothes and pajama’s, but for now, it was time to go back home.
the ride home had dean’s heart pumping just like before. you kept asking him more questions, asking stories about his childhood and how long he’d been hunting for. you were so interested in his life, which sent a wave of electricity through dean’s bones.
he started to admit to himself that he may be an asshole. how could he be so mean to such a sweet angel like you. your innocence, darling nature, and soft yet exuberant aura left dean feeling like he was floating on a feather.
you just made everything simple, and dean realized that helping you become human was the best thing cas had ever decided for him.
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TAGS: @floralscented @deansbeer @titsout4jackles @ostaramoon @haunteres @fallbhind @rubyvhs @foolinthera1n @taurus0queenie33 @vaiieydoii @jasvtsc @bitchykittenconnoisseur @angel-inspiredblog @galacticalllcafffeine @pascal-rascal424 @annoyingstrawberryballoon @fayeisuppose @geisterfvhrer @bluemerakis @si1ver06 @drqstqr @wh0s-ra3 @supernatural-bangtanboys @whump-loverz @mostlymarvelgirl @d3anwinchesterswife @youdontknowe @oceanolokys
*creating my perfect 2000s makeover montage in this chapter and living vicariously through it. also poor angel doesn’t know what online shopping is. she’s going to be a depop warrior tho i will tell you that much.
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