#this is a study of one of my favorite engravings:-)

[tendermiasma]

Anonymous asked: What are some of your favorite antique things to collect? Do you have any especially favorite finds?

Strawpage/tendermiasma

That's hard... I love furniture, it's so neat to see how they shaped and reflected trends and values and just the pure craftsmanship is so wonderful. My favorite styles hover around the 17th and 18th centuries-- Jacobean, George III, Federal/Hepplewhite/Sheridan. There's something about the crispness of the detailing of the last four that makes an ornamented piece feel so light and airy. I love Jacobean because every piece looks like it was hauled out of a fire, the dark patina is so rich. I don't actually own any originals from these periods (yet!!!) but fashion is a flat circle and Jacobean had a revival in the late 19th and a couple decades into the 20th century. I have a court cabinet from probably around the 1930s that I found here in Austin that was a part of this revival and you can see the Jacobean influence also carries a secondary Arts and Crafts influence that the US was on the tail end of. The engraving on the panels are a little bit flatter than the traditionally extremely 3D Jacobean carving, and that's what Arts and Crafts brought. They kept the dark patina look and I think it's interesting to think about how much lighter actual Jacobean furniture might have been during its time, and that we're choosing to imitate its aged look as part of its original intent-- sort of like how we thought Roman statues started out white when they were actually originally brightly painted, but we choose to make them white in most of our casual references. Regardless the charred finish looks amazing against light colored walls. It feels contemplative. Welsh 18th century design also has that quality although more pared-down but still warm and welcoming somehow. I love it.

Back to Georgian/Sheridan/Hepplewhite/Federal though, also don't actually own any from that time either, although I have been heavilyyyyyyy eyeing a credenza from one of my favorite antique dealers in Austin who randomly has some incredible pieces. I could't buy it responsibly but they're all free right there for me to study and admire. Sheridan and Hepplewhite are super similar and a good way to tell them apart is the feet. If they're tapered little unadorned pegs, it's probably Hepplewhite, and if they have a ball or box on the end or have some other angular detailing, it's probably Sheridan. THOSE styles came back around almost 200 years later in the woodwork of midcentury modern which I think is so neat. You can also help yourself date a piece with other little things, like screws. There was a period in the early-mid 1800s where screws had machine-made threads while their heads were still cut by hand with a hacksaw; the machinery for cutting screwheads came later. Philips screws weren't widely used until the 1940s so that's another possible way to tell. However you have to be careful because a lot of furniture gets repaired and modern hardware is usually used, so it's good to hunt around on it for signs of the original hardware. You can also tell whether hardware is new or possibly original by the amount of patina built up around the hardware. That's hard to fake. 

I got lost again. I also love looking at pottery and dishware because there's so much information and history in its marks. It's always such a fun little forensics game to look at its stamps and writings and symbols on the bottom to track where it's been, who made it, is it a forgery of a well-known artisan? That happened to me really recently when I found a Meissen tea set at a thrift store and it turns out I believe I have one actual Meissen cup in there from mid 1800s. The only way I could figure it out it was genuine and also its general date was because of its imperfections, which is pretty cool. Meissen had a specific way of marking B-grade dishware that they only used during certain time periods, and thankfully there's document of it, and my piece carried it. I don't care if she's not A-grade, she's beautiful and I'm a sucker for blue and white china.

I could talk a lot more but I'm just rambling at this point so feel free to ask more. I love it all so much. I've had a great time learning so much more than I bargained for with every new piece I find. I'm still mourning the Austin Antique Mall closure that happened last May but thankfully there's another great one in Round Rock and I should go back next month.

The smoking-gun wheel marks for the date and authenticity of the Meissen cup

My Jacobean-revival court cabinet from probably the 1930s

In her natural habitat. I built the fake fireplace! None of the existing ones were Georgian enough for me lol

The coffee table is I believe late 1930s and the chair is a 1960s wingback that got recovered in probably the 90s and I want to get it recovered again when I can. I'm at capacity since I'm in a 1-bedroom apartment and my primary goal is a well-designed space but when I can get an office it's going to be so over

[rabiesgiver]

Dröm Drop Distans 💖🎼

[iinthehexcore]

talks and views

summary: You and Steb spent more and more time together. He even asked for your recommendations - but he would only get them if he gave you a review afterward. part 1 - pages and books

content: our favorite fishman steb, more scenes outside the library, hopefully it will be all fluffy and sweet! not familiar with actual names of stuff so forgive me for that </3

wordcount: 3,309

a/n: thank you all so much for all the love on my previous steb fic! glad to see so many steb enjoyers!!! this idea came from @cae-core so big thanks to them! hope you all like it :)

⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

'My favorite librarian.'

Even through your feverish state, you could still hear his voice. Thankfully, the medicine he had so caringly put together for you worked wonders. After two days, you felt as good as you always did - maybe even better. His favorite librarian? It made your cheeks heat up even thinking about it. The first few sentences that he had spoken to you - something you had already dreamt of hearing - were so sincere, so sweet. You thought about Steb saying the words so often that the sentence was nearly engraved on your brain.

That next Tuesday, you were strolling through the library again, a stack of books in your arms as you put them all in their original spot. You could tell that certain classes had exams coming up - all of them came from the same row of bookcases. Only a few of the tables in the library were taken up with students working hard, but you were no exception. You had your own fair share of essays that needed to be finished. It was your last year at the Academy, and you hoped you could at least still work at the library after graduation. However, you had changed your work schedule - only one day instead of the two (and sometimes three) you did before. It left you with a little bit of time to study in your own dorm. Originally, your boss scheduled you for Sunday - that way, you would have enough time to focus on school on weekdays. You begged to switch with one of your coworkers, saying Tuesday would be a better fit, and thankfully, he was fine with it.

All the books were now neatly placed on the shelves, and as you looked at the clock, you realized there were only two hours left until closing. Time had flown by so fast - you barely even realized it was this late.

The heavy doors opened again, a gust of wind flowing through the library as you turned around. And there, at the other side of the library, walked Steb. His posture was as straight as ever, and a big bag filled with books on his side. Last week, much to his dismay, he had loaned a new list of books on Wednesday. But now, a day early, he stood in the cozy library again, another laundry list of books tucked into his pocket. He did not have a big list every single week - for a few weeks, he only had one or two books. This week though, he had his bag full. If anyone else in the library would take hold of his bag, it would probably drop to the floor from its weight.

"Steb!"

He could feel his ears twitch as he turned around, seeing you walk over to him. The table filled with students did not even blink, much too distracted by their work as their heads rested in their hands. With a deep breath, he nodded, opening his bag as you hopped behind the counter, already placing your journal and pen in front of Steb.

It was a wonder that the sparkly pink pen survived as long as it did. Not only did Steb use it to scribble down sentences, but you also used it to doodle, do your homework, and even make grocery lists. But, with every drop of ink now on paper instead of in the cartridge, you decided it was time for a new pen. Back then, you had bought the pink one because the color reminded you of sweet candy and flowers. But this time, instead of leaning to the pinkish tones again, something else caught your eye.

A pen, silver shimmers with a blue color underneath. At the time, you did not quite understand why you wanted it so bad, but now, as you looked into Steb's eyes, you understood.

He took every single book out of his bag, placing them on the cart that stood at the side of the counter. You had told him before that it was no problem for you to do it, but he waved you off. 'Too heavy', he wrote in your notepad. Last week, his list was filled with books on either side of the paper. But now, the slip was small, and all it said was 'Any recommendations?'

You hold it in your hands, your eyebrows shooting up as you looked back at the man.

"My recommendations?"

He nodded, adjusting the beret that said atop his head. Your recommendations? Well, you still had the mountain of 'to be read' books. Surely, something in there must be to his liking!

"Well, you came to the right person!" You placed the paper on your desk, turning around, "Let me see..."

Steb's eyes fell to the pen in front of him, an amused look on his face, combined with the tiniest smile. He breathed in deeply as you rummaged through the bookcase behind you.

"I sure hope you don't have a maximum," you said, turning around with a stack of books in your arms, "Let me see here..."

With a big 'oof', you dropped them on your desk, leaning against the counter as you put the books on it one by one.

"An autobiography, history... Cooking, if you are into that. Oceans," you chuckled, "And this one!"

'Piltover: The City of Progress. Most beautiful architecture!'

"I can't help but keep coming back to this one. I just can't believe how beautiful Piltover actually is," you smiled, placing it on top of the mountain, "I wish I could see all these buildings once! I mean, some of them I have heard of before, but wow, imagine sitting here!"

You flipped through the book, stopping at your favorite page. On it were multiple pictures of the Piltover Council building. It showed the views from the roof, the hallways that looked out over the city - even every minuscule detail down to the door handles. To Steb, this was not too special - it was his workplace. He wandered here many times before. But to see you so enchanted by merely the pictures made him feel something deep inside.

You let out a deep sigh, closing the book with a smile before looking up at the taller figure in front of you.

"Well, these would be my picks! Any that pique your interest?"

Steb's gloved finger tapped the Piltover book and you excitedly nodded, grabbing the form to fill all his information in. By now, you did not even need to ask him for the simple and basic information anymore.

"Good choice! I would love to hear which one was your favorite!"

And so, he left.

You did see him on your day off again though. After finishing your classes, you immediately left, papers still in your hands as you rushed down the stairs in front of the building. You did not necessarily have to rush, but the sooner you could go to your favorite cafe, the better. With - what would hopefully be the last - essay you finished, you officially wrapped up your last year at the university. In celebration, you felt like you deserved your favorite drink and a treat.

But, as you stuffed your paper in your bookbag and rounded the corner, you saw sights that were all too familiar. Yet, the combination was something unexpected.

Steb, in his full officer uniform complete with a helmet instead of the beret, walking out of your favorite cafe with a small, paper bag in his hands. You raised an eyebrow as you quickly walked toward him.

"Hello, Officer!"

You chuckled as he looked up confused, not expecting your voice to be there, much less to be calling him 'officer'. He had gotten so used to hearing his name from you that this felt unusual. Thankfully, the street was nearly empty with the exception of Caitlyn and Maddie who stood at the far end of it.

"I didn't know you liked this cafe!"

You stopped walking when you reached him, fiddling with the hem of your academy uniform. He swallowed as he nodded. Well, he didn't like the cafe. At least, he had never gone there before.

"It's for you."

His smooth voice filled your ears. His speaking voice was something that you wish you could hear every single day. Not that he had never spoken out loud - but every single time he did made it feel like fireworks going off in your chest. Steb blinked once, the scales on his cheeks twitching as he held out the paper bag to you.

"Vanilla strawberry cake, fruit tea. For finishing your essay."

Your hands stopped pulling at the fabric of your vest as you looked at his outstretched hand and back to his face.

"Was planning to come toward the Academy. Had not expected you here."

"No... No, I -" You were at a loss for words, "Yeah... I was... walking."

With a raised eyebrow, Maddie looked at you and Steb.

"Is he... talking?" she nearly laughed at her friend - she had barely heard his voice before, "To the librarian, no less!"

Caitlyn looked back over her shoulder, seeing the officer standing right next to you.

"Leave him be, Officer Nolan."

He nearly chuckled at your flushed state, taking hold of your hand to wrap it around the handle of the bag itself. You were unable to keep your eyes off of him, taking in each and every detail of his sparkly, silvery blue eyes.

"Tuesday?"

You only nodded in response, your hand still tingling from where he held you as you watched him turn and walk toward his colleagues. It was impossible to keep all the giggles inside as you just skipped back to your dorm, a big smile on your face as you placed the paper bag on your table.

It was a surprise to even see him today, let alone see him holding your favorite treats. After throwing your bag to the side, you sat down in your chair, humming as you opened the bag. Inside was the tea and the cake, but also another object.

'Thought of you. - Steb'

A small booklet with even more pictures of the view over Piltover, taken from countless different buildings. You nearly dropped the cup of hot tea as you slowly stood up from your chair, flipping through the pages. Piltover Academy, the Councilor building, the library. During sunset, during the night, in both summer and winter.

You looked over your shoulder, the (slightly crumpled up) note next to the cake. He had thought of you? It made your heart jump as you ran your fingers over his neat handwriting. No matter how many times you had seen it, it felt just as special as the first time.

This... friendship came so unexpectedly, yet you wouldn't change it for the world. Steb, his stoic yet friendly face - a constant in the chaotic world you lived in. He made your heart beat faster. Was that something that friends did?

You liked to think that you knew him pretty well by now - when his ears twitched or his scales fluttered, you could point out exactly why. He did not talk often, and when he did, he was fairly straight to the point, though his smooth voice never made it sound malicious. No, instead you replayed those moments over and over, making sure to never forget what he sounded like.

And, as you could see by the contents on the table, he knew you pretty well, too. This was not the first time he had brought you something or that he remembered a small fact you had told him.

Tuesday.

While walking through your hall and toward the door, you glanced at the bulletin board that you had hung on the wall. Receipts, pictures, written notes. One last smile as you saw '- Steb' before slinging your bag over your shoulders and walking out.

You had not seen Steb since he gifted you the tea and cake, but you knew he would be at the library today. Every single Tuesday, exactly at 3pm. So, after organizing all the books, you patiently waited.

No one was in the library today. The weather was not great, even with the sun shining.

You had picked up another book, sitting at the window with a cup of cold water, sipping it as you turned a page. The opening and closing of the door grabbed your attention as you immediately looked up, seeing Steb walking in with a bag slung over his shoulders.

No uniform today. No beret hiding his hair and no gloves covering his hands. Instead, he wore something much more casual. A buttoned shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, dark blue pants, and simple boots. In his hand, he held a jacket. Huh, he must have been warm, then.

"Hey!"

A small smile formed on his face as he nodded, walking closer to the window before pushing one of the chairs back, sitting down next to you.

"I can't believe you made it today," you hummed, leaning over to pour him a glass of water, "The weather doesn't really call for it. Though, I don't mind it much. Actually quite like the clouds!"

Steb glanced around the library, seeing that it was completely empty, before looking at the glass of water.

"Thank you," he spoke, nodding, "I have my day off."

He took a sip, enjoying the cold of the liquid as his ears moved back.

"When are you finished?"

"Not long from now," you closed the book, "It's already getting late. Around an hour, maybe?"

The man nodded, his hand still wrapped around the glass.

"Can I walk you home?"

"Are you sure?" you furrowed your brows, looking back at him, "It's a long wait."

"I can read in the meanwhile. It's already getting dark out now."

"You don't mind?"

He shook his head.

"Need help putting anything away?"

So, for the rest of the hour, you and Steb roamed around the library, putting away the last few books. You pointed out some of your favorite books that you had read as Steb listened, sometimes asking a question or two just to see you light up again. As you looked over at the clock, you saw that it was only five minutes till closing. This entire time, no one had come in, so what were those extra minutes?

You put on your coat as Steb had already taken your bag, slinging it over his own shoulder before following you out. You made sure that the door was locked behind you before pushing the key into your pocket, walking next to the man.

It was quiet for a minute. Piltover had not been this empty for a while now. The weather was not quite perfect for a stroll, but even with the cold nipping at your fingertips, you still enjoyed it. Any minute spent with Steb was an enjoyable one.

"It seems like I have forgotten something," he spoke up, his voice as soft as a summer breeze, "Is it okay if we stop somewhere?"

"Of course, lead the way!"

He turned to his left as you followed, looking around as you tried to distract yourself from walking alongside the one person who seemed to always be on your mind. His cologne or perfume - whatever it was, it smelled good.

As the two of you stopped in front of a door at the side of a big building, he turned to you.

"Close your eyes?"

"I... what?"

"Do you trust me?"

You let out a chuckle, looking up at him.

"Steb, you can't just use that against me."

He silently raised an eyebrow which made you laugh even harder, nodding your head as you finally closed your eyes.

"Okay, okay!"

You felt his hand take hold of yours, hearing the door open and close back behind you. Where was he taking you? You heard buttons being clicked and doors sliding open as Steb softly tugged you along. Were you in an elevator? It dinged as you heard the doors again, the warm hand in yours slowly guiding you forward.

It was hard to keep your eyes closed as you so desperately wished to see what was so secret, but you trusted him. A gust of wind hit you in the face, making you gasp and nearly open your eyes, but Steb beat you to it. His hand quickly covered your eyes as his arm wrapped around your shoulder, taking small steps to get you exactly where he wanted. Then, after what felt like ten minutes of a secret mission, you felt his hands move.

"You can open them."

You blinked a few times, shaking your head as you looked at the view in front of you. With your mouth open and your eyes wide, you stepped forward, hands resting on the railing that was set in place.

There, right there, was Piltover. Every shimmering light that resembled a home, every streetlamp that lit up the way, the water in the far distance. All the pictures you had admired in the architecture book seemed to have sprung to life, moving right in front of your very eyes.

You could not believe it. Was this a gadget made by some scientists to make you experience your dreams? It was simply impossible to tear your eyes away from the sight, yet you did.

Right there, already looking at you with a tiny smile on his face, was Steb. Steb, the man who guided you up to this spot. Steb, the one who made your dreams a reality. Steb, who held your heart.

Steb, the one with his face dangerously close to yours.

Your eyes flickered from his lips to his sparkly eyes as you were simply unable to speak. Every single detail on his face seemed to have been crafted by only the most talented hands, and you nearly felt like you had been blessed to even see him.

Slowly, you inched closer, and somewhere in the middle, you touched.

Fireworks, the sun, sparkles, glimmers. All at once, they surrounded you. His hand softly placed on your cheek, his lips soft and warm. It was sweet, it was truly as if you had fallen asleep only to experience your biggest desire.

"How did you..." you whispered, softly pulling back yet still staying in his arms, "Where are we?"

"You asked for my favorite," he smiled, his eyes slightly crinkling, "This is it. Piltover's Councilor building."

And then you finally recognized it. The golden details, the dark blue accents, the tile floor. It was the Councilor building.

"Steb!" your mouth fell open again, your hand on his chest, "How did you sneak us in here!"

He snorted, shaking his head before turning his face to the skyline. He was serious - this was his favorite view from any Piltover building. Even if he was here more often than the usual person, he almost had a newfound appreciation for it. Be it formed from the book you had recommended him, or from the sparkles that would appear in your eyes whenever you looked up at it.

You also looked out to Piltover, your hands still holding onto one of his as you softly rested your head against his shoulder.

"Commander Kiramman authorized our access," he said, "I know you asked for me to tell you about my favorite from the book. What better than for me to show you?"

And so you stayed, watching over Piltover as Steb watched over you. That was, until your eyes could not keep themselves open anymore, sleep pulling at your sleeve yet you refused to leave. You did not want to - you wanted to stay here, with the view, and with Steb.

"It's time for you to sleep," he whispered, his thumb rubbing your hand.

"Come home with me?"

[lilreidgirl]

Where do I sign?

Summary: You have a tattoo that you`re teased for by others but when it`s just you and Spencer, you realise that it`s all worth it.

Warnings: MDNI(18+), fem!reader, tattoo, smut/sex briefly mentioned, swearing, alcoholic drinks, ownership kink??, English is not my first language

WC: ~1.2k

A/N: Came up with this a few weeks ago but only now wrote it, hope you enjoy!!

You knew, deep down, when you first got the tattoo that it would raise eyebrows. If anyone found out about it, you could already imagine the reactions: weird looks and perhaps a few teasing comments. You were prepared for the judgment. You understood that most people would likely think it was strange and that was okay.

What mattered was that you liked it and that Spencer did as well. After all, you are the one who has it permanently engraved in your body and he’s the one who’ll be staring at said print on your body for the rest of your lives.

As soon as Spencer mentioned the idea, you were obsessed. Not a single feeling of hesitance found itself into your body the day you got the tattoo. Only pure excitement made shivers run down your spine as you walked into the tattoo parlour, which Spencer had deduced was the best one courtesy of tons of hours of research on online reviews, distances and health department tattoo regulation inspections.

_________

The team had organized a little get together at a bar; family, friends and all, so naturally Spencer brought you.

Spencer wore a white button-down shirt, but it wasn’t a pure snow white—more of a faded off-white, as if time had softened the fabric just a little. The shirt was messily tucked into a pair of black slacks. His hair, which was even messier than the cloth he tucked under his belt, lay unruly and untamed in tousled waves on his head, as if he had just rolled out of bed and let them fall where they may. It was the usual look for him, and you couldn’t help but love how effortlessly charming it seemed.

You chose a pair of blue low-rise jeans, the ones Spencer had always said were his favorite. You paired them with a light grey shirt with three little buttons at the top. You deliberately left two of them undone just enough to catch Spencer`s eye without being too revealing.

The bar was cosy but packed with constant laughs and conversation crossing the table you sat at. Unaesthetically pleasing lights shone from the ceiling a few flickering with the same rhythm as the nostalgic party songs that were played from the big speakers spread out all over the room. Rossi announced the first round be on him, no surprise there.

He and Emily had left to get the drinks, disappearing into the crowd for a few moments, only to return a short while later, their hands full of glasses. Rossi’s arms were loaded with tumblers filled with alcoholic beverages, while Emily was gripping a few more in her grasp. The sight of them juggling so many glasses brought a smile to your face as you watched them make their way through the room.

“Oh, you guys need some help?” you called out, already rising from the stool you’d been sitting on, eager to lighten their load. You moved swiftly, offering your hands to take a few glasses from their arms. He smiled, looking grateful for the assistance.

“Thank you, you`re the fucking best,” Emily praised, a soft chuckle leaving you at the sweet thank you involving such unfitting, vulgar language which infected her to let out a small laugh as well.

After you took a few drinks off their hands, the three of you started moving around the room, weaving through the different people and their conversations, delivering the drinks to their designated drinkers. Each time you made your delivery, you shared a brief exchange with the person before turning to pass the next drink along.

 “Okay, last one! Who ordered a bud light?” Your eyes studied the different faces, landing on Derek’s as his voice announced, “Me, pretty girl.”

Rolling your eyes at the nickname, matching to your boyfriend’s, you made your way to the smirking man, placing the bottle in front of him. “Hear ya go.” You smiled sweetly before turning around, looking to walk back to your seat but being stopped by Penelope’s voice.

“What’s that? Is that Spencer’s signature?” She asked, confusion and a giggle present in her tone.

You stopped dead in your tracks, the ones you had barely made your way down, the sneakers you were wearing making a slight squeaking noise against the friction of the sticky bar floor.

The rest of the teams and their companion’s faces turned to you, more specifically your back, even more specifically, the little sliver of skin revealed between the blue and grey materials of your jeans and shirt. The skin clad with a tattoo reading “Spencer Reid” in his finest handwriting.

Slowly, you turned around, an awkward expression on your face before you met your boyfriend’s eyes and widened your own as a bit of a distress beacon.

“Oh- um…” for a guy with an IQ of 187, he probably should have been able to come up with something to say in that moment, but god was it hard in that stuffy room with countless expecting eyes peering at him.

“Didn’t know you guys were… that. Gee…,” Emily chuckled, her black hair gliding over her shoulders as she turned to look at the both of you one after the other.

“What is that-…,“ You tried to speak up but the rest of the words never even made it past the stage of being formed by your brain cells, the ones you were now hoping would explode so you could die before the situation got any more embarrassing. Defeated by your own inability to speak you looked down, gaze falling on the spotty floor of the bar.

“My man,” Derek grinned proudly, giving Spencer an encouraging pump of his prominent eyebrows as he laughed.

Spencer’s eyes met yours, both of your guys’ cheeks burning different shades of rosy and peach out of embarrassment, but the eye contact between the two of you communicated what you both knew.

It was worth it.

It was worth people thinking you were weird, every time Spencer laid his large hand on your lower back in public where his name lay written in the crevices between your skin’s atoms, reminding you what lay there, reminding you who you belonged to.

It was worth the embarrassment, every single time Spencer’s slender fingers, warm and delicate, gently traced the intricate pattern of ink that adorned your skin. Whether you were in the shower, the steam clouding the air around you, or snuggled up together beneath the soft sheets, his touch was always so tender, almost reverent, as if the tattoo held some hidden meaning only he could understand.

It was worth the teasing and the giggling, every time his eyes, barely hazel anymore because of his blown out pupils, stared intently at his signature, his mark, his claim, dug deep into your soft skin and your even softer soul as he fucked into you relentlessly.

It was worth it because it was proof you were his. Forever. The black ink sewn into your body that is immortally yours, always there to convey how no one could ever love you like he could and how you would never even have a trace of the same love for some other person that you feel for Spencer.

[menkya-and-charon]

₊˚⊹⋆ Howdy there! It’s finally time for Sandrock's final release yay ₊˚⊹⋆

To celebrate this special occasion Sandara pulled off her jewelry making skills to prepare some unique rings for every sandrocker who wishes to propose to their soulmate ! So without further, here's a little story behind each design,

Qi - Sended an intriguing blueprint to Sandara with complex symbols and diagrams…He assured her that it meant something important to his soulmate so she craved the coded message in precious silver with care. Even if she didn’t get Qi special love language as usual she was sure his loved one would get it ;)

Owen - Our favorite bartender showed an intricate design to Sandara, a delicate pattern almost the same as his own parents' engagement ring. Like the gilding flowers on the cover of a fine book he wished to give his lover the beginning of the story they were about to write together in this life.

Fang - The swan holding a special meaning to him Fang requested Sandara to make his ring the shape of that gracious animal to seal his promise to love and cherish his dearest one forever.

Ernest - Came by with this big and expensive pearl that got a special meaning to him asking Sandara if she could add it to his ring. The pearl symbol of his loyalty and love was carefully placed on the gold ring, the initials of his name and his lover one engraved on the inside.

Pablo - He made a special request to Sandara in search of the most colorful metal they could find for his ring in which bismuth mineral was perfect! Showing how bright and full of all the colors of this world his love was for his chosen one.

Arvio - Insisting on getting the most fine materials Arvio asked for a special ring. He showed Sandara a rare sand flower from Baranarok symbolizing hope and renewal inspiring the shape of that jewel meant to bond him and his other half forever.

Miguel - Requested a rather simple but very elegant ring, made with pale gold with a single diamond to show the purity of his love for his chosen one.

Burgess - Asked for something extra special to convey all his will to live in happiness and kindness with his soulmate. The yellow diamond he chose shining in the center of his ring radiating like the sun all his love.

Pen - In secret Pen demanded the most powerful ring Sandara could make to give his special one great strength and power he’s all for. However he never delivered it himself…

Unsuur - While admiring his collection Unsuur couldn't choose which gem was more fitting so he brought them all to Sandara to make a special ring! (even adding a few shards Wilson lost to make the base of his special ring ;)

Justice - Wanted a pretty ring that still felt like him so Sandara took great care at bringing out Justice strong will and honesty toward his most precious one with this silver and copper ring.

Logan - The only one Sandara didn’t made because well Logan made it himself for his special one! On late hunt nights he sat by the fire and carefully carved this ring in bones with the will to give his loved one something he made with all his heart.

This isn’t much but I hope everyone will have much fun playing and living wonderful adventures with Sandrockers friendly as romantic ones ! As I used to study jewelry making it was very much fun to do and fitting hc that Sandara would make them for the town folks !

It’s been already one year that I have being in this fandom and so so grateful for everything it brought me and the wonderful people it allowed me to meet ♡

I’m currently working on the girl next and some custom ones for my fellow builders who helped me with the designs ◇

₊˚⊹⋆ Happy Sandrock day ! Wish you all the best and see you soon to continue this journey together ₊˚⊹⋆

[panda-writes-kpop]

I'll give it to someone special ~ k. mj.

a/n: Merry Christmas to all who celebrate! I wanted to have this fic out earlier but I was recovering from a nasty sinus infection the last few days that managed to travel into my lungs and give me a chest cold 🫠 it's all good though, this is the best I've felt in about a week so I'll take it. KATIE'S COMEBACK IS HERE EVERYONE RAHHH

tw: lots of food mentions, winter kind of breaks into your apartment?, mixed bag with angst and fluff so take it as you will, writing might be a bit rough around the edges since it's been three months

summary: the icy weather reminds me of your unstable "relationship" with Winter as you prepare for a Christmas party with friends. Little did you know that a late night visitor would settle your worries about Winter once and for all.

♡ Masterlist ♡

Last Christmas, I gave you my heart…

You hum to yourself as you pull the Christmas cookies from your oven. The scent of pure sugary goodness, mixed with the gingerbread candle on your countertop, is enough to make you drool.

You usually weren’t this festive when it came to Christmas. With finals season being intertwined with the holiday, it was hard to be excited about Christmas when you’re trying to not cry over an exam. Throw a few retail shifts, and you quickly grow tired of the Christmas season.

But this year… something was different. You managed to get through finals season in one piece, and your place of work decided to shuffle some non-Christmas music into their season mix. 

…You still didn’t like All I Want for Christmas is You.

The lights on your Christmas tree seemed to shine brighter, illuminating the main showstoppers - the ornaments on your tree. One in particular catches your eye as you set the cookie tray down on two potholders. 

It’s a simple glass bulb in your favorite color with your name engraved in cursive letters. You remember finding it on the window sill outside of your apartment last year.

A light knock on your window makes you nearly jump out of your skin as you look up from your computer. You grumble because you were finally starting to get into the groove of studying, and your final was in two days - couldn’t this wait?

You tilt your head as you notice a small box on your window sill. Cautiously, you stand up and head towards the window as you inspect the box. 

It has small red and green shapes all over the box - definitely from a Christmas store, but who could have gotten something like this for you?

With a barely audible click, you open your window and grab the unexpected present, hoping that bombs don’t come in abnormally small packages.

As carefully as you can, you open the box to reveal an ornament inside.

Sugar cookies weren’t the most demanding treat to make, but they were a smash hit with your foodie friends. Add in some snickerdoodle cookies, your grandma’s famous chocolate chip cookies, some homemade rock candy, and a few other goodies, and you were a necessary addition to many of your friends’ Christmas parties.

This year, to save yourself the hassle (and a few broken cookies from the trip), you decided to host an intimate gathering with a few of your friends. Sure, your apartment wasn’t the biggest place, but you’d only have three guests.

Four, if you can count on a special someone coming your way.

With 48 hours to go, and plenty of baking to do, some late night baking was necessary to get everything done in time. As you watch the sun set (much earlier than it should), your mind wanders back to the ornament on your tree.

I know you bought that ornament for me. Minjeong.

~

Your phone buzzes as you concentrate on creating the perfect carrot nose for one of the sugar cookies. You don’t break concentration until it buzzes again, which makes you give your snowman an orange tongue that’s somehow connected to his stubby nose.

“Sorry, bud, we can’t all be perfect…” You mutter to yourself before setting the frosting down and picking up your phone.

You don’t recognize the phone number, but the text messages seem oddly familiar.

On my way! Don’t stay up late for me. <3

It’s already past 9 o’clock, and you’re only done with a small portion of the sweet treats you have to make, so it’s probably going to be a late night anyway… and you were terrible at listening to others.

Maybe that’s why the two of you never worked out?

There was something sweet in rebellion, besides the wonderland of baked goods that sat in your kitchen. You never were a rebellious teen, for one reason or another, so you liked to do rebellious things like stay up late, order junk food, and binge watch TV until three in the mornings.

…There’s a reason why Giselle calls you and Karina the losers of your friend group.

“C’mon, go drinking with us!” Giselle throws her arm around your shoulder, completely ignoring the way Winter tenses up at the action. “It’s no fun to eat take-out alone and rewatch the same show again and again.”

You feel the need to defend yourself as Winter’s piercing eyes meet yours for a minute before she looks away. The frown on her face neutralizes into a more aloof expression as you study her further.

“For the record, I don’t rewatch shows that often.” You say as Ningning narrows her eyes at you.

“What are you watching right now?”

“Okay, that’s besides the point!” You fold your arms after teasingly brushing Giselle’s arm off your shoulder. 

“One night can’t hurt, right?” Giselle elbows your arm before continuing to march down the street. “First round’s on me!”

You sigh while choosing to pinch the bridge of your nose instead of trying to fight against your friends’ plans. They had good intentions, trying to bring you out of your comfort zone, but you’d much rather cut this meeting short. Partially because you want to go home, and partially because Karina’s absence made the tension between you and Winter so much more palpable.

~

The small timer next to your oven happily dings as you finally shut the oven off for the night. Although you weren’t completely done, at least everything that needed to be baked was baked tonight. You could frost and assemble everything in the morning, after you had a bit of sleep and a break from the repetitive Christmas music coming from your music speakers. 

You quickly turn the dial back to zero on the timer before pulling the last round of cookies from your oven. With the sickening sweet smell of chocolate chips invading your nose, you set the cookies aside as you glance around your kitchen.

I just need to let these cookies cool, do a few dishes, and then box everything up so the gnats stay out of my sweets.

Checking the time, your shoulders slump as you notice that it’s two-thirty in the morning - where did the time go?

Good thing you don’t have work early tomorrow; otherwise, you’d probably call off. 

Winter would scold me for doing that.

You chuckle at the thought - Minjeong would scold you for calling her Winter, saying it was “too formal for our relationship”.

Our relationship? What relationship could she be talking about?

Winter was your friend, just as Ningning, Giselle, and Karina were, but you two often stretched the definition of the word “friend” to its limits.

“Winter-” Your back meets the wall as Winter places two hands on either side of your head, forcing you to look in her eyes.

“I want you.” Her posture seems harsh, but her voice softens as one of her hands leaves the wall to caress your face.

She’s giving you an out - you could slip out of this situation if you wanted to. You could rejoin the party like nothing happened.

But you can’t pretend like nothing happened. Not when you’re with her.

“I want you too.” Breathless, a shaky hand beyond the control of your rational thoughts reaches out and pulls Winter closer to you.

With her face so close to yours, you press your lips against hers.

Yet words like situationship and friends-with-benefits seem too… distant for the two of you. They imply a lack of connection and romance, which definitely doesn’t seem to describe the two of you.

Unless buying flowers and intimate gifts for each other could just be seen as a friendly gesture.

“I bought you these.” You present the bundle of flowers to Minjeong, as if you were a nervous pre-teen who was trying to impress your crush.

“Oh… thanks.” Her hands ghost over yours as you pass the bouquet to her. 

The lack of emotion on her face causes you to panic as you grab one of her wrists.

“If you don’t like them, I can always return them, or get some different flowers-”

“They’re lovely,” Winter interrupts you, “but I didn’t think we were close enough for gifts.”

You fake a warm, innocent smile as your brittle heart starts to crack under your false expectations of Winter.

Icy memories aside, it was time to let your mind and body rest as you made sure that the oven was turned off and the cookies were correctly sealed away-

Tap! Tap!

Luckily, nothing was in your hands as you jumped at the sound of something tapping against your window.

“Damn bird,” You mutter under your breath, “I’m going to murder Karina for feeding you.”

With the fluffiest slippers, and in your finest Christmas pajamas, you stomp through your living room to handle the avian problem that’s still tapping on your window.

When you approach the window, your birdy frenemy is missing from the window; instead, a familiar face stares back at you.

Against your better judgement, you throw the window open and offer her your hand.

“Winter? How the fuck-” You pause as she takes your hand and tries to crawl into your apartment.

“Don’t ask.” Her voice is raspy from the cold as she manages to enter your apartment. “Why did you get a third-story apartment?”

“Why did you climb up to my third-story apartment?” You stare at her, dumfounded, as Winter carefully closes the window behind her.

She freezes before turning around and shrugging her shoulders.

“I missed you?”

You pause before laughing to yourself.

“You could’ve called, Minjeong! That’s what normal people do!” You gently scold her as she rubs her arms to stay warm.

“I sent a text your way. Did you get it?” 

“Ah, so that’s who sent me that message.” A tiny smile appears on your lips as she lets out a small breath of relief.

“You’re not mad?”

“At you? Never.” You smile before suddenly becoming aware of the state of your apartment. “Sorry, this place is a mess. I’ve been baking all day, and I didn’t have any time to clean.”

“No, don’t worry. I’ll help you clean up before the party.” Winter casually brushes by you to grab a pillow from your couch as you stare at her in disbelief.

“Minjeong, do you know what time it is? Scratch that, do you know what day it is?”

“Yeah, it’s the 25th - Merry Christmas, by the way - and the party’s in about twelve hours. I thought I’d help you clean up before everyone else came.”

You fold your arms as a small smile appears on your face.

“It’s the 24th.”

She stops fluffing up the pillow and turns her head towards you.

“Really?” Winter tilts her head, confused for a moment, before continuing her task. “Well, that gives me more time to help you.”

“You can’t be serious!” You follow her every movement as she appears to gracefully dance around your couch and guide your decorations back into their rightful places. “You need to sleep, as do I.”

“I’ll sleep when I’m ready to.” She brushes you off again as you feel your frustration beginning to build.

“What compelled you to see me at this hour?”

“I told you that I missed you.” With that same unreadable expression, she gently sets a Christmas teddy bear against your Christmas tree. “Isn’t that enough?”

“It’s enough when your actions match your words, Winter.” The words slip out of your mouth, callous and cold and completely unlike you.

Her expression sours as she looks at you.

“What did you say?” 

You shyly look away as your frustration melts under her scrutinizing gaze. You were never good at standing up for yourself in front of her, but how could you let your heart fracture again and again as you dance in this endless “will-you-won’t-you” limbo with her?

“I’m tired of doing this with you. We flirt and tease and kiss but it never leads anywhere.” 

It feels good to let your frustrations out, as you’re usually letting yourself melt into her embrace every time you’ve thought this in your head before. Although you’re not opposed to the night ending that way, you want to hear her say something first.

“Ah, so that’s what you meant.” Winter slowly walks towards you, but stops a few inches short of your reach. 

She offers you her hand, an olive branch that you’re not familiar with, but you don’t take it right away.

“I want to hear you say it.” Your voice softens as you stare into her eyes.

“That I love you? I thought that was obvious - did the gifts not express my love for you? Do you want me to show you that I love you in a different way?”

“I just want to be yours, Minjeong. Sure, I’m affectionate and friendly with the other girls, but I’ve never wanted to be with anyone else since I met you. I’ll do whatever it takes. I just can’t keep doing… whatever this is anymore.” You pause to take a shaky breath. “I love you.”

You gently take her hand, which she immediately brings to her lips.

“I.” She presses a kiss to your hand before gently pulling you forward.

Her other hand cups your face as her lips meet your cheek. 

“Love.”

Her hand leaves your hand and lands on your waist instead.

“You.”

Her lips meet yours, and you don’t hesitate to kiss her back.

The taste of sweet liquor, dangerous and fruity and addictive, hits your tongue as you attempt to memorize her taste for good.

It feels like every time I kiss her will be the last - isn’t that sad?

When you break away from her, you’re left breathless as a small smirk appears on her face.

“Is that enough to convince you that I love you?”

“Yup.” You sigh, completely and utterly lost in her world.

She could tell you sweet little lies, honey-coated false promises, and you’d believe every word. 

She was the gospel, and you were the truest believer.

“I’m sorry that I’ve made you feel like you’re not important. I know you’re busy with university, so I always thought that you wanted to wait. I never, ever met to push you away.” Winter’s hand leaves your face and intertwines with yours.

“I… should apologize too, for not expressing myself earlier.” You squeeze her hand in reassurance. “And thank you for leaving me that ornament a year ago.”

“You knew it was me?” Winter looks bewildered as you try to hide your laughter. 

“Of course I did - who else would do something like that for me?”

“I-” She pauses before shaking her head. “Of course you did. You’re much smarter than anyone gives you credit for.”

“Ah, stop, you’re making me flustered!” You playfully push her away before her hands reach out to grab you again.

“C’mon, don’t tease me like this.” She nearly begs as she glances at a picture on a nearby shelf. “Otherwise I won’t take you on a date this Sunday~”

“Wait a minute,” You immediately grab onto her arm, “you’re serious?”

“I am. We have to make it official, after all.”

You give Minjeong the biggest smile before wrapping your arms around her torso.

“Thank you for everything. I’m glad you stopped by today, even if you didn’t come through the door.”

“You’re not going to tell the others about that, are you?” She looks concerned as you impishly laugh. 

“Oh, you know I will.” You gently tap her nose before pulling her in for another kiss.

[chiiyuuvv]

[DAY 15] masterlist ᡣ𐭩 !

— " "is it okay.. if i kiss you?" B askes A in front of their doorstep, their hands crading A's face while slowly leaning in " ; mutual pinning

♡list : @lecheugo , @imthisclosetokms , @rizzkisworld , @hyvelxve , @starryriize

The chirps of the crickets and the hoots of the owls were quiet compared to the sound of your shared laughter, walking down the cold sidewalk with your shoulders brushing the other, wanting to encirle their arm or hold their hand — wanting a bit of physical contact for warmth but too shy to ask.

Anton was still counting down the seconds to when he would awake to the sound of his blazing alarm, unable to believe that you — the girl he had been pinning over for months — was walking next to him, laughing along to his stupid jokes that his friends would have whacked him for.

He had to be daydreaming again, chanting to himself "I'm so lucky" as he stuffs his fidgeting hands into his pockets, his head down to conceal his flustered smile and deep laughter considering he was soft spoken, wasting a second or two to steal a glance at your smile; how its engraved with such beauty, almost like it was stuck in its place.

He thinks back at how he nervously gulps, opening your chair with shaky hands so he could sit you down, before pushing you in and doing the same process with himself, taking in the restaurant that was marked as your first date, and hopefully more to come. He prays that everything goes well, almost losing his breath at the outfit you decided to wear today, almost like you were mocking him with your beauty.

But then again, you were always beautiful, and what you were wearing wasnt anything special; just a plain shirt that hugged your curves perfectly, along with your favorite pants and shoes to pair. He remembers trying not to stare at your lips as you talk, but failing miserly, licking his own in anxiousness. He felt like an idiot under your gaze, feeling all warm and fuzzy in his stomach as butterflies swarmed carelessly, yet another stutter leaving his lips. Stop doing that!!

"My house is just down the block," you inform anton, pointing to the array of houses as anton nods, before a frown forms on his lips. He was having so much fun, he didnt want to leave. But it was probably a good idea, so he wouldnt do anything stupid to embarrass himself, and so he can spend the next hour or so screaming into his pillow, kicking his feet like a schoolgirl in the process.

You always liked how happy anton seemed to get whenever you were near, constantly biting his lip to hold back his smile, his head always hiding behind one of his friends or in his arms. It was cute, you adored him; he looked so cool with his amazing talents and achievements, plus, you loved how soft the boy was, never wanting to hurt a fly.

You thought your liking towards him was a little obvious, but maybe the boy was blindly in love, missing all of your hints that drove his friends crazy with annoyance. You wanted to capture the look on antons face when you agreed to go out with him, his jaw dropped and eyes shot open looked a little silly, and you pictured yourself laughing about it with the boy, teasing him for his adorable flusterness.

"I had so much fun today," anton quietly admits as you walk into your driveway, going up the steps in a slow pace, almost like you wanted to savor each and every moment, every feeling of this magical night. "So did i," you share a smile, looking around to think of something that would conclude your time.

"The moon looks so pretty today," you admire what was over antons shoulder, his head turning to acknowledge it before turning back to you, his heart swooning at how perfect you looked. "Yeah.." he says in a lovesick tone, his eyes going over each and every part of your face, studying it deeply like there was going to be a quiz that would be presented the next day. You looked beautiful.

Time seemed to stop when you finally turn your head to say something else to the boy, never expecting him to be already looking at you with so much love in his eyes, like he would protect you from anything and everything, his angel.

His mouth opens to say something but nothing never comes to his dismay, just using the time to admire your presence, his eyes slowly traveling to your pink, parted lips. His eyes move back to your as you unconsciously take a step forward, so close that anton hunches over without a thought, cradling your soft face into his warm hands.

"Is it okay.. if i kiss you?" His sudden words hit you like a train, a soft gasp leaving your lips as you take in how he stares at you like he hasnt touched anyone in years; he needed you. So with a nod, you slowly close your eyes, tilting your head so anton could have better access to your pretty lips, closing the distance between you too.

The feeling of your arms around his neck excites him, setting the pace to a slow movement, but able to convey the want and desire through his lips. His arms slides down to your waist to hold you closer as he presses his lips against yours repeatly before breaking, his forehead rested against yours as his eyes were still closed, basking in the after glow. Oh, how he never wanted to wake up again.

[hkruu]

Can you write a cold and distant yandere CEO with everyone but a total puppy to the reader?

“NOTICE ME.” — hkr

\\ yan ceo , loser behavior behind doors lmfao , implied favoritism , stalking , mention of murder and violence , slightly sadistic (?) , not my usual style of writing but I tried !! //

Keith was loosing his mind, do these worms that work under him not understand English? He swears that anyone could drop dead and he wouldn't care except for that worker (you) that he always seemed to favor out of anyone.

Of course everyone that worked on the company was aware.

"Seriously, how do you even gain the favor of boss? I swear he's a tough ice." One of of your co-workers had asked, you could only shrug in response. You of all people didn't know why Keith favored you among the best, I mean just why? There was Kayla who was employe of the month, Seth who was his assistance so what could you offer?

Keith who somehow gets jealous of everything and anything, you try to interact with the newbies? Huh, when did they become so busy with a lot of paper works? It's only their first day . . . If you want answers you might wanna turn to Seth.

Keith who really likes seeing you working hard, it reminds him the times where he watched you study hard for your degree during September 3 at 3:17 am — you're asking why he knows that? Well he's Keith, a normal guy trying to make business.

When Keith is alone, you might mistake him from another guy. Behind the doors of his office room, you're greeted with the warmth of his affection and a soft tone going “Good day".

Keith acts like a total puppy around you and he doesn't care, if you want to change your schedule it's already done in a swift! Want to be an air-conditioned room? Already done and dusted. You murmur wanting to be employee of the month? Oh would you look at that, you're employee of the month!

Of course, he'd always find a way where it's always related to him. He did want his name engraved into your head. . . .

Keith's love language is definitely act of service and gift giving. It's one of his strong suits since it came so naturally over him, he'd always remind you that he only shows this side to you because you are special to his eyes. Of course, some employee who overhead it will be the one who's flustered instead.

You two don't have a label in your point of view, but in Keith's? He practically thinks it's your 4th anniversary! He just loves you so much, why can't you just accept his love and let him trap you in his safe space? You won't have to work, do chores and even lift a finger. Keith would happily do anything you wanted, your needs mattered more than his.

Keith is the type to let the situation defuse by itself but when dealing with someone getting in his way to finally make you his — he's not above to resorting to violence. Even if Keith soft to you, he will never hesitate to resort to bad behavior just to make you stay by his side, like an actual loyal partner.

Murder wasn't a second choice, it was always the first choice. It didn't matter if it was a simple misunderstanding or a little trouble, there was no harm in ending lives when it came to you. Keith doesn't find blood dirty, he finds it fascinating. Blood keeps your heart pumping, blood runs through your veins at this very moment, it's something he likes feeling, touching.

That CEO is no psychopath, he calls it affection. Can't you see all the efforts he did just so that you could be in a higher position? Did you not acknowledge everything he did to you during highschool? During middle school? College? Do you not remember Keith? It was a shame, but this time he would make sure that you'd remember him for the rest of your life.

Even if you run away, quit your job, live in another country. Keith will always follow in any shape or form, he'll engrave the memories you spent together in your stupid brain, he'll carve his name into your skin and watch it bleed with your blood.

Keith is a normal guy. He's distant and cold, he keeps everything to himself, and he certainly doesn't like sharing.

\\ sorry if it's short ><!! I thought I was free the whole day but uhhh my schedule said no and sent me to a writing frenzy irl again!!//

\\ grrr request now cus I AM SKIBIDI //

\\ tysm for requesting anon, I hope I didn't go ooc 😞 (I did) //

[gghxliday]

The Heart Wants What It Wants. Poly!WolfStar x Fem!Reader

The Heart Wants What It Wants- Poly!Wolfstar x Fem!Reader 

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR SHARE MY WORK ON ANY OTHER SOCIAL MEDIA PLATFORM

The halls of Hogwarts were decorated in spirit, and the cheer of Christmas clung to every corner. This was your favorite time of year. You never went home for the holidays, home stopped being home when you got your letter and was further ingrained when the sorting hat placed you in Gryffindor. But that didn’t rain on your parade, because you got to spend the holidays with your best friend and boyfriend.  

Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, also included in the lineup was James Potter, however he returned home for the break. You and Remus had been inseparable since you met, which was all up to the fates. One misty afternoon, you had decided to spend your free time in the library in the hopes of finding a new romance novel to occupy your time. And like in all the books, the one you wanted was a few shelves to high. Your wand having been abandoned in your robes back in your dorm, Remus appeared in your vision and waved it down for you. That opened an evening of conversation on your favorite novels, which ended by the Gryffindor fireplace and the rest is history.  

Sirius Black however is a much longer story. You two met through Remus and the chemistry was suffocating. From the first wolfish smile to the most recent lingering touch to the small of your back when he slid past... Sirius set you ablaze every time. But the tragedy lies within your love for Remus. There were no issues within your relationship, the chemistry kept you two rushing back for more and the love was more than just passion. It was engraved in the fates of time.  

The inner turmoil you faced every holiday was the only dimming light upon the Christmas tree this year. As you sat at the dining hall table comfortably wedged between Moony and Padfoot, as you filled your plate.  

“Hey love, do you want to bake those cookies again this year? Make it a tradition?” Remus asks, his voice low and smooth in your ear.  

“That sounds brilliant! Sirius would you like to join us? Sirius?” You asked, but your voice cut off when you turned your head and saw Sirius already standing and grabbing his belongings.  

“What?” He blinks at you. Not one emotion on his face.  

“Cookies, would you like to come bake cookies with us?” You repeat with something of a perplexed look. Sirius looks down at his shoes, which deepens the furrow of your brow... Sirius has never lacked confidence but in this moment, he’s never looked so small.  

“Uh... I think I’m just going to head to bed.” He spoke softly; he seemed to hesitate as he turned his back on you but in the end, he still walked out the Great Hall doors.  

“What was that?” You asked, looking to Remus for answers but all you got was a shrug.  

This was not the last time, suddenly it seemed the distance between you and Sirius was growing and deepening into an unrecognizable cavern pulling you apart. From what once was chasing each other down the corridors and chuckling behind study books, turned into watching his robes flow behind him as he ducked away from you and suddenly sitting rows apart in your classes.  

The distance was an unbearable weight on your heart, like a spell that would keep thrumming against your chest until it caved in on you. You let out a groan of frustration and rubbed your eyes harshly on your sleeves.  

‘What to do?... What to do?’  

There was only one place to start... 

Remus... Your dear, Remus.  

You stared down at your hands, now cupped within your loving boyfriends. You begged and pleaded the universe to help you forget the conversation you had; believing it was leading to nowhere but the demise of your three year long relationship however it didn’t quite go how you had predicted.  

(30 minutes prior.) 

“Hey, my love. Come on in.” Remus waved you into his dorm room, the smell of old books and pine welcoming you. The room was homely like most of Hogwarts. Two beds mirrored each other from opposite sides with red and gold curtains draping across, a fire crackled within the hearth and Gryffindor memorabilia adorned the mantel. A tall full body mirror stood in the corner, and it had pictures taped onto every possible space. You couldn’t help but smile gently as you saw what they were of, they photographed Sirius, Remus, James and yourself... Running through halls, picnic blankets out on the lake, red noses from the cold out in Hogsmeade and one you couldn’t quite place; it was of you and Sirius. You two were cuddled in front of the very fire within that room and you were looking up at him with a grin on your face, like he had just handed you the world.  

You felt a brush of hands against your waist, “I captured that one.” Remus murmurs in your ear, the motion soothing. “My favorite people in the world, but you had looked like the only ones in it.” He gently rubs your arms and shoulders as he speaks and when he’s finished, it felt like something in the world had shifted.  

“Rem, we need to talk.” You speak cautiously, like if you move to quickly; you’ll lose him from sight. “You know I love you... right?” You turn to look at him, and you take the moment to search for fear, denial or even betrayal but instead you find nothing but his most sure and confident face. The face he wears when he knows he was right.  

“I know.” He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “But I know... and I've known for a while, and I wanted to be the one to tell you-”  

“Wait. Remus, what are you talking about?” Confusion pulses through your veins.  

“What are you talking about?” He looks back up to you, through his lashes.  

“I wanted to talk about Sirius...” “I wanted to talk about Sirius...” 

And then all went quiet, and all was understood.  

(Present Moment) 

“My love, this doesn’t change anything.” Remus soothes, as he presses kisses to your face. The tears were hot and futile for you knew that not both of you could be happy in the end, and what would a moment in bliss be worth when the loss is three years of heaven. 

“I can’t be the one to talk to him, I can’t do it... I just can’t” The tears racked your body and soul, the pain echoed from you to Remus’s face as he cradled you.  

“I know this is hard, but he’ll listen to you. He will always be there for you.” He says, his hands gently swiping the tears away. You didn’t like the insinuation the he had made, his belief that Sirius would neglect his best friend in such a manner but right now you couldn’t be sure of much. What you were sure of is that, if you were not willing to talk to him for yourself; you were for damn sure going to do it for Remus.  

As you walked to the kitchens, the chills of the corridors began to settle over you. The December air was crisp and it truly did nothing to settle your nerves, it just brought them to a cascading peak.  

When you walked through the swinging doors, the first thing you noticed was the silence. The quiet whispers of the air and the humming of the tea kettle. But there was a noticeable absence of Sirius’s typical humming and self-busying chatter.  

“Siri.” You called, focusing on his dark curls that hung low down his back. His back that tightened when he heard the siren call of his nickname, adorned by you.  

Sirius’s mind was so occupied by his daydreams that had his life twisting and turning but always ending in disaster. He dreamed of you and... well it didn’t matter.  

“Siri, please.” You begged, but he continued to move to the teapot silently. Removing it off the stove, pouring it into the tea cup methodically all while taking staggering breaths that ripple off his frame.  

“Sirius, please. Please don’t ignore me, not when I’m right here. I’m right here.” You plead with him, your voice wavering and lip trembling.  

“Look at me Sirius, god damn it... Look at me!” And then you’re yelling. The moment was visceral and unlike anything you’ve felt. Your hands fly to your mouth, and a single tear falls down your face. Sirius turns, his eyes wide and his hands shaking. A look of uncertainty crosses his face and his lip's part like everything he’s hiding is ready to pour from his mouth. 

“Please talk to me, I can’t take this. Why are you avoiding me? Please, Siri... I miss you.” You cry, standing only a few feet away but it feels like there are valleys of distance between you. And there’s a pain to accompany it; that there are no words in the English language to describe.  

“You’ve got it wrong; I’m not avoiding you.” Sirius says, calmly. His hands ball into fists and the shaking pauses. He takes a breath before turning his back on you to continue his motions.  

“No, I’m not... you are. Just tell me why!” Your voice cracks on the last word, your arms flailing with your pleas. Sirius refuses to turn around this time.  

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  

“Why are you. Avoiding. Me?” You grit your teeth, emphasizing the last two words. Determined to get your answers, even if you stood here all night. Even if your answers cost you everything.  

“Because I can’t have you!” Sirius yells, as he whirls around to face you. His voice is something raw and full of despair, a despair that sent the pit of your stomach crashing down.  

“What?” The word was a mere whisper, you couldn’t manage more than that.  

“I have been starving myself of the thought, touch and desire of you in hopes that will ease the seemingly never-ending cycle I have fallen in.” Sirius slumps back against the marble counter. “I have come to the realization that however long I torture myself with the thought you, I can’t win. In the end I will lose. Because if I have you... I can’t have him.” He laughs bitterly on the final word.  

“For every dream I have of you, of sharing every breath, heartbeat, and joyous moment... there he is. Every time I dream of kissing you, of touching you... my soul reciprocates it with a dream of lying next to him.” Sirius walks to you, till your bodies are inches apart; all distance that had led to this moment now eliminated. He reaches his hand up slowly, cautiously as if moving too fast would rip you from his grasp. Sirius cups your face, his touch a comfort like a warm fire, like the whisper of a dream too good to keep.  

“Siri... you’re not alone. Ask me why I’m here.” You murmur to him, a coax to keep him here. To keep him in this moment with you. To be given the time to lead this burning flame back to Remus before it had the time to extinguish in the harsh chill of December.  

“Why are you here?” He obeys with a whisper; he drops his head but his hand never leaves your skin. It drags down through your hand and along the length of your neck before resting upon the exposed skin on your shoulder.  

“Let me show you.” You reach out your hand, beckoning him. And he, all out of fight rests his hand in yours.  

... 

“Oh pads.” Remus coos, as he takes in Sirius in the doorway of their shared dorm. His head low and hand in yours, there were no words needing to be spoken. The precipice had been reached.  

“Moony...” Sirius’s shoulders shake, and he only releases your hand when Remus yanks him forward into an embrace. Anyone who had ever known the two would have, before this moment; described them as brothers but you... you had known and know better. There was love and then there was Remus and Sirius, love wasn’t a strong enough word.  

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t keep hiding it.” Sirius begs; his face buried in Remus’s sweater.  

“Theres nothing to be sorry for, nothing at all.” Remus soothes, his brown eyes lock with yours, green flecks shining brightly in the fire light.  

“I’m sorry. I love you and I’m so fucking sorry for it.” Sirius’s voice cracks as he sobs. His knees letting out beneath him, dragging them both down to the carpet.  

In that moment, you almost felt like you were intruding. The two’s embrace felt more than intimate, it felt like lovers lost long amongst the sands of time and you were being washed far away from their shore.  

“I’m going to give you two a moment.” You speak calmly and reserved. As you turn for the door, you were almost positive they weren’t going to stop you and, in the moment, you had almost accepted it.  

“No, please. Don’t leave me... don’t leave us.” All you could see was Sirius’s eyes. The grey pools of mystique, a mind you felt so impossible to get into. But his words dug a knife into a tender place in your heart. A place you had kept so hidden for three long tiring years.  

‘us’ 

That one word changed the whole meaning. You knew what was happening in that moment quicker than you can take another breath to calm your racing heart. You weren’t drifting from their shore; you were just reaching it.  

Your steps were hurried when you moved towards them, kneeling in front of Sirius and cupping his face.  

“What do you want, Siri?” You asked, a small question but you needed it. You needed to hear it.  

“You, I want you.” Sirius, turns his head to Remus. “Both...” He takes a deep and shaking breath. “I want you both. No. I need you both. Like I need the air I breath, like the earth that grounds me and the sun that covers me. I want you both but I can’t have one and lose the other, I can’t do it... please.” Sirius’s eyes shift from you to Remus and back again.  

At first, you don’t dare utter a word. You just look at Remus. Your eyes lock and when they do, a silent agreement occurs. No, not an agreement but an understanding. And understanding that Sirius was not alone but that for all these years, you all had been longing and drowning in the same waves of desire that dared not be spoken. 

“Let me give you all you want, Pads. We’re not going anywhere.” Remus spoke, softly but with the confidence of a lover. And like a lover, Remus cupped Sirius’s face and gently brought his lips to his. Sirius melted into him. All tension and pain erased, his hands threaded into Remus’s hair and a smile erupted onto his lips. His hand reached out, searching for you and you latched onto him as he pulled you into his side.  

Sirius pulled back, turning to you. His smile didn’t hold that usual wolfish flirty look, the one that didn’t reach his eyes. This was pure and shined golden, it was a beaming and joyful smile like a boy that got everything on his Christmas list.  

“Come here, Sweetheart.” He whispers, his free hand landing on the back of your neck and his lips joining with yours. Sparks flashed behind your eyes and your body loses all tension. You raise your hands and slide them into Sirius’s curls, pulling him closer in. Remus runs his hands along your back and along your stomach.  

When you break apart, there’s a smile on each person's face. And in that dorm, the storm settles and all that is left is the rainbow. Remus, with an arm around your shoulders and a hand on Sirius’s thigh; he chuckles.  

“Do you know what time it is?” He asks, with a look on his face that you can’t quite place.  

“No?” You and Sirius say in unison, looking to one another in question.  

“It’s midnight, which means...” Remus raises and eyebrow giving you two one last chance to catch one.  

“It’s Christmas. Happy Christmas, my loves!” Remus laughs before knocking you two onto your backs with a warm hug. You and Sirius explode into laughter. The three of you a giggling, shaking pile on the dormitory floor.  

“Best Christmas ever!” Sirius yells, fist pumping the air; ensuing another round of boisterous laughter that rings of the walls and brings warmth into your hearts.  

[lyfeofbilly]

Tyrant

warnings: smut, smut, smut! (minors do not interact!)

summary: infidelity had snaked its way into your crumbling marriage. another night with your favorite mistake couldn’t hurt…..right?

author's note: my first time writing smut, so pleaseee bare with me. this is soooo fucking trifling i know, lmao. to them anons, this for yall.

taglist:@koffeesfancy @bubbleblowinggirl @pvnks0ul @solanaszn @onyxstones-world @blacksapphhicmaddonna

Rianna smirked at her phone as she read your text.

You up?

It had been weeks since you last seen her. The clock read 3:15 AM and you were craving her. Your body aching just to feel her touch again, the mere thought of it making your skin grow hot. Ever since you first got a taste of her you’ve been hooked. Her kisses were laced with a drug that you could not get enough of.

You never wanted it to go this far, to be in so deep. You loved your family- well your children. You and your wife have been on a rocky road for years now, "We're just in it for the kids." y'all would say. The both of you knew that excuse was bullshit. It caused more harm than good and your kids noticed. The resentful arguments, passive aggressiveness, and cursing matches were something that you wished your children would not have had to witness.

Your wife sent the kids to her mother's house while she disappeared to Lord knows where. You stayed home under the guise of having to work early mornings for the rest of the week. It was all just an excuse to have her. Your need for intimacy overtook the guilt you would normally feel in this situation.

You were sprawled across the bed, awaiting a response from Rianna. An hour had flown by since you sent your initial message. She wouldn't deny you and you knew that, she just loved playing the cat and mouse game. The excitement and sneakiness of it all ignited a fire deep within her. The three dots eventually turned into a text, causing your phone to ding.

The Mrs gone tonight?

Your eyes rolled at her text. The pettiness that woman possessed was something that needed to be studied. Her slick remarks and snide comments were something you hated yet loved about her. Another text came across your screen shortly after.

Leave the door open for me baby, I'll be there soon ;)

That sentence alone caused an ache between your legs. The power that she had on you was something else.

A sly smirk was plastered across Rianna's face as she tiptoed through the front door, softly shutting it behind her. Pictures of you and your family were displayed all around the living room. The image of you and your wife engulfed in a kiss is what caught her eye the most. The two of you looked young, happy, so in love. The frame had your anniversary date engraved on the bottom. It made Rianna sick, she wondered when exactly did your marriage turn sour. What was the straw that broke the camels back?

Rianna sighed and shrugged her shoulders as she placed the picture face down, "Fun while it lasted."

You nor Rianna would have ever thought things would get as deep as they were. Your relationship was innocent, at least that's what you thought, at first. You tried to play the flirting off as being friendly for your conscience's sake. The seductive stares, unnecessary touching of each other, playing footsy under the table, the list goes on. Cheating had never crossed your mind, no matter how bad things had got, but when you found yourself face down in the back of Rianna's car after a night of drinks all of that flew out of the window.

Truth is, Rianna wanted more. More from you, to be more than a late night endeavour, to be more than the other woman. She was more jealous than she would like to admit. The thought of you even laying next to your wife made her seethe with anger.

She continued throughout the house, strutting down the hallway, and finally through your bedroom door. When she entered, there sat you on the edge of the bed, body bare and exposed, anticipating her arrival. One thing that Rianna loved about you was your obedience. Your habit of doing anything that she asked and melt at her words boosted her ego by a thousand percent.

Your bottom lip trapped between your teeth, chest heaving up and down, eyes glued to her. A sight that Rianna loved to see, you so eager and ready for her. She slowly made her way over to you, taking your chin into her palm, her grip was anything but gentle, forcing your face up towards her.

"Three weeks and I don't hear from you?" She growled as her eyes burned holes into you. You would be lying if you said it didn't turn you on tremendously, "What kinda shit is that?"

A whimper left your throat as her hand travelled down to your neck, squeezing the sides of it. Your hips rolled against the comforter underneath you, your clit was throbbing, begging for the tiniest bit of friction.

Her head dipped to your neck, breath hot against your skin, "Missed my touch that much, baby?"

You so desperately wanted it, you needed it. Having her was the only thing that would calm the excitement between your thighs. Her touch alone pushed you more and more over the edge. The spot where you sat became drenched in your arousal.

Her lips began to attack your neck hungrily, and they felt amazing. She nibbled and sucked, sure to leave marks by the next day. Her free hand roamed your body before it grazed the inside of your leg. She drew circles agonizingly slow. Her fingers wandered up, running between your soaked folds. She strategically avoided your clit, wanting to push you to the edge, and boy was she succeeding, "You so damn needy, I ain't even fucked you yet."

With that she suck two fingers into you, causing you to let out a cry, "i nee-fuck!" You threw your head back into the pillows behind you, tears beginning to form in your eyes.

Your slick made it easy for her to open you up. She scissored her digits into you with precision, a loud sloshing sound filled the room, your juices drenching her hand. Her eyes met your half closed ones, "Hm? what you needed baby?"

She watched you struggle underneath her, your legs shaking and face contorted into one of pure ecstasy. She knew you were close, "Tell me what you need mama." You were at your peak, your walls clenched around her digits. A strained cry leaving your throat with every thrust she did.

A wave of dissatisfaction hit you when she snatched her fingers from your center. "P-Please baby i was so close." You whined.

Rianna took her silky fingers and ran them across your lips before sticking them in your mouth. Drool ran down the valley of your breasts as you sucked your juices off of them. She grinned before pushing them farther down your throat, causing you to gag, "Imma give you what you need baby, I promise."

She removed herself from you and stripped, revealing a scarlet red lingerie set that hugged her toned body. The arousal between her thighs dampened the middle of the thong she wore, strings of wetness connected it to her aching pussy as she dropped them to her ankles. She lay her self on the bed legs wide open so you could see all of her, and God was it a sigh to see. Your eyes were her stuck to her, mesmerized by the sight that lay before you.

You crawled towards her, hair falling and framing your face. In this moment you would do anything she told you, entranced in a spell of hers. You dipped your head into her sex, tongue swirling around her clit ever so slowly. her taste possessed you, you would stay down there all day if you could. you moaned as you sucked her throbbing bud, the vibration sending Rianna into a frenzy. She took your locs in a fistful and stuffed your face deeper into her, rocked her hips into you.

"You mm- you like this shit dont you?" her breasts bounced up and down, a layer of sweat starting to form on her skin. Her bottom lip was trapped in between her teeth, eyes locked onto you. Rianna loved watching you underneath her, seeing you please her drove her crazy, "You l-love getting your face fucked d-don't you?"

The grip on your hair got tighter as you continued to coax out her orgasm, "Eating it so g-good f'me baby. "The rocking of her hips became spasmodic as her thighs began to clench around your head, "Shi-shit, oh fuck!"

Her body stilled and her legs shook as she stopped to catch her breath. She pushed your head away and walked over to the bag that she brought. A few moments later she came back with her strap attached to her waist.

"You know how i want you."

You happily obliged as you got on all fours, arching your back so she could have access to all of you. Arousal dripped from your aching pussy down to the sheets. Your body shuddered in anticipation, waiting for her to fuck you silly. She rubbed the tip against your bundle of nerves, resulting in a gasp. Rianna was such a tease. She wanted to make you squirm and whine before she fucked you, needing to see how your body reacted to her.

"S-shit! ri p-please!"

A low chuckle left her, "please what? tell me what you want baby."

She was being mean and she knew it. A smack came down hard on your ass, and another right after. When it came to sex Rianna got off on hearing you beg, she wanted you to tell her everything you desired from her. Silence was never an option when it came to being intimate with her.

“Wa-want you to- ah fuck!”

Rianna teased your entrance with the tip of the dildo, slamming it in seconds after. You could’ve swore you saw stars. She was stretching you immensely, and you loved every second of it. A low chuckle left Rianna's lips, one of satisfaction. She began to push deeper inside you, massaging your gooey walls, hitting your spot just right.

“S-shit ri!” The covers underneath you began to tangle in between your fingers, “J-just like that!”

She gripped both of your forearms, pulling you back up towards her. Your head rested in the crook of her neck as she pecked wet kisses along your jawline.

“Doing so good f’me baby." she rasped in your ear.

Rianna's speed was killing you. She made your pelvises kissed with every thrust that she did.

"F-fuck ri baby please!" Your pleads held no weight with her. She had you right where she wanted.

"You look so fucking pretty when you beg."

the coil in your stomach was threatening to snap. The speed nor force of her drilling never let up.

Your orgasm was creeping up on you and Rianna could tell. Your breath hitched as you clenched around her, "Im about to f-fucking come!"

"Let that shit out," The sound of your bodies slapping against one another filled the room. "Tell me, that bitch fuck you this good?"

It felt like all the air had been knocked out of your chest. Between the pounding you were receiving and that question, you forgot how to breathe. Dirty talk wasn't new to you and Rianna, you fucking loved it. She knew exactly what to say to make your fountain run over. You and your wife's sex life wasn't an exciting one to say the least. It felt like a monotonous chore.

You shuddered against her, "Mmph- fuck!"

"I asked you a question." One hand snaked down your front and swirled your swollen bud in between her fingers, "She fuck you like this baby? She make that pussy feel good like i do?"

You hated to admit it, but your wife had nothing on RIanna, nothing at all. "Fuck n-no! She don't m-make me feel like you do baby!"

Tears ran down your cheeks as your orgasm washed over you, the coil in your stomach finally snapping. After a few more thrusts she pulled out of you, caressing your back as you came down from your high.

Steam filled the bedroom as the bathroom door swung open, out came you in a towel that clung to your dripping body. Rianna lay sprawled out on the bed, typing on her phone. You two knew the drill, she had to be out by noon.

"Alright Ri.....you already know how this go."

She cut her eyes at you and sighed, irritation beginning to rise. She pretended like she didn't hear you, initially ignoring you. The typing on her phone becoming more aggressive.

11:15 came and she still made no attempt to get dressed and out of your home. She did this every time, wanting to get you back in bed again and not worry about the responsibilities you had to face after your rendezvous.

"Rianna, seriously get dressed."

A groan left her mouth as she tossed her phone on the side of her, "This shit again? When you gone leave her? Ain't like y'all a couple anyway."

"Excuse me?"

She stepped toward you, her being short in stature didn't affect the intimidation that you felt in the moment.

"Don't give me that shit. Y'all don't even sleep in the same bed, and you want me to be gone before she get here? What type of shit is that!"

She was right. You and your wife haven't shared the same bed in months, let alone even touched each other.

"That's my wife rianna!"

She scoffed, "Yea a lousy one. That bitch can't do half the shit I do for you, yet you still fucking stay."

You threw her shirt and pants at her, "Get fucking dressed. You were supposed to been gon-"

The bedroom door swung open, a loud slam following behind it as it hit the wall. There stood your wife, arms crossed and face red with anger.

"Fuck!"

[mrsmikaelsxn]

His Obsession

masterlist

pairing: tom riddle x female reader

warnings: somewhat stalking, obsession, possessive, kissing, fluff

summary: you were a new student and you have taken the interest of tom riddle, he decides he wants to know everything about you

a/n: i'm a sucker for obsessive tom, what can i say

song: we belong together - ritchie valens

Tom Riddle. A name that brought fear to most students. He was powerful, and had intelligence that the professors admired. He excelled in all of his classes with flying colors.

He knows most things about all the people in his year, and a good amount of stuff about the students in higher and lower years as well.

So it was a bit of a shock when he saw you stroll into the great hall. Headmaster Dippet had called you up to the stool to be sorted into your house.

After a short while, the hat called out Slytherin. He couldn't be more grateful, seeing as how you were a sight for sore eyes. Many people must agree seeing as there were many others that seemed to be checking you out.

He quietly observed all of your movements from where he was sitting, trying his best to read you.

His 'friends' noticed his almost zoned out gaze and called his name. His attention was brought back in front of him as he looked at his followers with an annoyed expression.

The day was over as quick as it started. The next day, he noticed you were in most of his classes, allowing him to study you more. He had his followers do research on you and your family's background. He had them around the castle to keep an eye on you.

He felt a sort of pull towards you, he wanted to know everything about you.

In the potions class, he saw you sat in the back. Normally he would sit in the front of his classes, but he took the seat next to you today.

"Hi," you greet with a nod, looking at him take out a quill.

"Hello, I'm Tom RIddle," says, voice like silk.

"Y/n," you smile at him.

"What brings you to Hogwarts?"

"My family moved, I used to go to Beauxbatons," you explain. He hums and turns his attention to the professor.

Since then, you have become almost friends. He began to tutor you for potions, the one class you did not have an outstanding in. You still had high marks for that class, but you wanted to try and get all O's.

He had taken a great liking to you.

He most likely wouldn't admit his feelings, he thought it was impossible for him to feel such things because of him being conceived under a love potion. Yet, you come along and prove him wrong.

He wasn't really one for public affection, but he was different in private.

Even though he didn't necessarily do things such as holding your hand, or having an arm around your shoulder, people would say he was obsessed with you. His eyes and attention were wherever you were.

There was something about you that was so ethereal to him.

Whenever someone looked at you for too long, or in a bad way, he dealt with them when you were somewhere else in the castle.

Today was the day of your date with him. He had finally decided to ask you to accompany him on a 'picnic' as you called it. He said it was just a meal outside but you discarded that.

He used his wandless and non-verbal magic to quickly set up the secluded area as you got ready.

A bit later you met him there and couldn't stop a bright smile from forming. He loved your smile, it was one of his favorite things about you. He would always find a way to make you smile, and if you weren't with him, he already had it engraved in his mind for him to imagine.

"Hello, y/n. You look lovely, as always," he greets you kissing your hand.

"Tom," you blush and avert your eyes. "I think you look dashing as well," you smile and pat his chest.

"Well, come sit," he says as he goes to sit in the spot set up. It has a beautiful view of the mountains and the Black Lake.

"This view is stunning," your eyes shine, taking in the phenomenal scene in front of you.

"Mine is too," he says gazing at you.

"My goodness Tom, stop with your flattery," you laugh covering your face to hide your even more reddened cheeks.

"I am only speaking the truth," he replies, bringing his hands to your wrists and pulling your hands from your face.

"You are the most exquisite person I've met," you pat his cheek.

"I know," he grins. You roll your eyes and go to resort, when you felt his lips on yours.

You recover from the temporary shock and kiss back. You had fancied him for some time now. You knew he was different with you, but never would you have thought he would return your feelings. No kisses have ever felt this intimate before, the way he kissed you was as if he was trying to show you how much he cared for you.

You had to pull back for some air after a minute.

"Tom," you mutter as he looks at your swollen lips and jovial face. This is, in fact, his first kiss. He has never felt an attraction to any other person before. On top of that, he was always so focused on his education and plans for the future.

"Y/n," he breathes out.

"What was that for," you whisper playfully.

"For you being perfect," he whispers kissing you again. When you two break apart, he asks you to go to hogsmeade with him. To which you replied with, "I would be a fool to ever turn you down, Tom," as you look at him with such love that had his heart beating so fast he thought he would have a heart attack.

[kelin-is-writing]

kelin may i hear more about rockstar touya \(★ω★)/

I was planning to post other headcanons before going for these, BUT I’ve got some for Rockstar!Touya that are pestering my mind these days and your asks come in the right moment, so bear with me please 🤧

࣪𖤐… ROCKSTAR!TOUYA

The first time Touya knew that he wanted to become a rockstar was in middle school, right at the age of thirteen, his influent CEO of a father was trying to mold him into a carbon copy of himself to rival Yagi Toshinori’s Enterprise. While taking a break from studies, he saw his sister watch on TV a rock concert of “Loudness” and to say Akira Takasaki is his role model is the least. That’s a true legend to him.

After “Loudness” and Akira Takasaki, he discovered “Metallica” and Kirk Hammett which made him go like “HOW??? HAVE??? I??? MISSED??? ALL??? THIS???”, scolding himself for taking so long to fall in love with the electric guitar and its sound. The next week he’s blasting full volume “The Final Countdown” by Europe inside the Todoroki Mansion like the good old stamp rock fanatic he is, getting himself scolded and grounded by Enji who is a fan of traditional Japanese music so yeah…

At one of the Todoroki family gatherings during the weekend, he was scrolling down his phone looking first of all where to take guitar lessons and second for a guitar to buy, but he knew his father would never agree to get him one. That’s when his grandfather, peeking at his grandson’s phone, butted in and asked Touya if he’s interested in music. He wasn’t sure if it was a good thing to answer that question, since he’s the father of his father, but he did and hell has it been the best thing he did!

On his fourteenth birthday, Enji’s father bought Touya his very first electric guitar, a good old Fender Stratocaster CUSTOM MADE for him. It’s snow white like his hair and has a his name engraved on the bottom left side of the guitar, while on the other side there were engraved tiger’s fangs, all in turquoise… The color of his eyes. And this has been by far Touya’s best birthday ever.

After finishing Middle School he choose to attend an Art School, taking the music classes as main classes of course; he may or not have done it to piss off and raise Enji’s blood pressure from how mad he got for choosing something different from Finances and Management. Oh his father was livid and Touya was so proud of himself for that.

He has formed a rock band, of which he’s the guitarist and vocalist, with Tenko Shimura (Bassist&Vocalist) and Shuichi Iguchi (Drummer) called “The Villains”… Are we even surprised about this name? Really? Because I am not. Tenko suggested, Iguchi supported strongly and Touya just went with it because complaining and thinking about another name was “Too much effort”. He likes it a lot but will never admit it.

At the age of nineteen, Touya owns a Fender Stratocaster (Custom Made), an Elite Stratocaster, an ST-83-80 Japan (1983) black, Lone Star Strat, IC350 black, IC50 black, ICHI00 white, Gibson SG Standard mahogany and a Jackson Pro Series DK Modern HT6 MS. He also owns four acoustic guitars for songwriting, like a Martin GPC-X1E, Martin 000-28 Modern Deluxe, Taylor GS Mini-e Rosewood SN LTD and a Taylor AD22e. Did he pay all them with Enji’s credit card? Hell yeah. Did he do it out of spite? Absolutely. Did he care about his father’s blood pressure rising even more? Not even remotely.

His favorite groups are Loudness, Metallica, Led Zeppelin, AC/DC, Europe, Scorpions, Slipknot, Three Days Grace, Green Day, Skillet, Linkin Park, The Rasmus, L’Arc-En-Ciel, UVERworld, Nirvana, Guns N’ Roses and Evanescence to list some, because there are many more he adores honestly. He isn’t a picky ear as long as the song gives him chills and inspires him, being someone who’s driven by emotions that’s what makes him likes something he hears.

Atsuhiro is their homeroom teacher, at the Art University they attend, who introduces them to Giran, a friend of his, who has an agency for new talents and after they sent him six of their songs wants to launch their very first album by August to make them debut at the “Rock In Japan Fes.”

Touya, being the emotional driven type of musician, is the one put to write the lyrics for the band’s songs and most of the times are hits, especially because his and Tenko’s voice brings to life the emotions of the lyrics in a way that it reaches the listeners right into the heart and soul.

You will never catch Touya’s fingers empty, there’s always rings decorating them and some rings are even custom made by his cousin Geten, who owns a Jewelry shop that he promotes a lot on his social media. One of his most precious rings is the one that he got made for him, with his birthstone carved in it, when he turned eighteen.

He has three earrings on his right ear: an helix, mid helix, conch and low helix. Four on his left one: two helix, a low helix and one on the lobe, plus three nostril piercings on the right side of his nose.

After “The Villains” debuts and proving his father that he could succeed through music without his help nor his name, Touya owns now a black card that he lets Fuyumi and Shoto use to their heart content.

Last, but not least, be ready to be the muse of Touya’s songs the instant he falls head over heels for you. The moment it happens everything, and I mean everything, to him becomes about you driving Tenko and Iguchi to pure exasperation.

[the-bleeding-weave]

Im back on my bullshit since yall seem to enjoy it. This time ive got a proper au for you

Tulpar crew cowboy au!!!

Takes place in southern georgia in 1880

The gang is called the McCurly's (after curlys last name)

Curly is a 35 year old scottish immigrant who came from a decently wealthy family, but he hated the lifestyle and wanted to live a freer life. He developed a hatred of the wealthy elite and believes humanity is at its best when they serve each other and not just their own interests. He also has a hatred of the law for uplifting the wealthy while trampling the poor and working person.

Curly is revolted by racism and bigotry in all its forms and vows to kill or "change the minds" of every person who dares to support the harming of minorities. This will become one of his gangs main goals (ie. Kill all kkk members with no remorse, kill bigoted protesters, beat the fuck out of and intimidate politicians until they change laws, etc)

Curly does well at all ranges of combat but he prefers long and medium range, using his favorite lever action rifle for most combat encounters. His sidearm of choice is a classic six shooter revolver which hes gotten very quick with reloading.

He has a silver and black brindle thoroughbred mare named Tulpar

Anya is a 32 year old Cherokee native whose village was devastated by oil barons who stole her people's land and left them to fend for themselves. Her family was massacred in the middle of the night by pinkertons with her being one of the few survivors.

Despite this incredible trauma, she survived on her own for a while before finding curly grievously sick in the wild. Feeling bad for him she used her extensive knowledge of herbs and medicine to heal him back to perfect health, the two forming a tight bond in the process.

Shes the gangs resident healer, they all refer to her as a doctor even though she isnt licensed, though they all agree shes better than a doctor.

She studied germ theory extensively and even learned about viruses several years before modern science did.

She loves hunting along with curly :3

She loves going on raids with the others and does great with all forms of combat.

Because shes a smoker her voice is distinctly raspy and deep, meaning she can put on what she calls her "bandit voice," a uniquely intimidating tone she uses for raids or to intimidate people.

She has a golden dun tiger stripe mustang stallion named Yorkshire that she raised herself, as a result he refuses to let anyone else ride him. The gang jokes that shes unintentionally convinced him hes her human son

Daisuke is the newest and youngest member of the gang at 23 years old. Hes japanese and mexican and speaks fluent English, japanese and spanish. His parents were killed by a dangerous gang and he was left homeless overnight, struggling to survive on his own. He was found by anya who took him in to camp to treat him for an infected injury and he quickly endeared everyone in camp with his infectious positivity. Curly allowed him to stay as a new member to which daisuke was eternally grateful

He LOVES his pistol like its his wife and has modified and decorated the hell out of it. It has engravings on the barrel and handle as well as gold plating. Hes gotten surprisingly good at using it too, able to aim well at decently long ranges especially for a pistol. While he prefers medium range combat he isnt too bad with long range either.

His horse is a reverse dapple roan nokota mare he named Asteroid destroyer. Shes the fastest horse in the whole gang and daisuke is incredibly proud of that fact

Jimmy (34) is an old childhood friend of curly and was the son of american immigrants to scotland. Though his family wasnt wealthy he still hated european life and wanted to join curlys lifestyle so he became curlys first gang member.

In this au he isnt a sexual predator, just abrasive but mostly well meaning. Hes a strategist and bounty hunter as well as the assistant manager for the gangs funds alongside curly. Hes not terrible at it but swansea loves complaining about things he spends on

When doing raids he often serves as supporting fire or lookout, keeping watch for cops and security. Hes a pretty good shot but he cant do very well with more than medium range combat. He relies very heavily on his side arms and almost never uses large arms like rifles.

His horse is a dark bay turkoman stallion named Polle and jimmy treats him like royalty

Last but certainly not least is swansea. Hes 58 years old and he used to work for a steel refinery but he hated every second of it. His true passion was in horses and gunsmithing.

He often takes up sniper positions when they perform raids since his horse is the slowest in the gang. But he also makes for a great tank when theyre in the thick of it, he has the unique ability to take several bullet wounds and not even flinch. He also has two shotguns, one is a pump shotgun and the other is a sawed off double barrel which he uses religiously. He excels at long range and short range combat due to his weapons expertise

He may not be the tallest but his sheer bulk and deep voice is enough to intimidate most people, especially when he presses his shotgun into their belly

He has an iron gray roan Ardennes mare he named after his late wife Andrea. He has the biggest soft spot in his heart for her and regularly has conversations with her when he thinks hes alone.

[periwinklefemur]

oh no..i’m dying of starvation…it seems i need more re-animator headcanons to survive…

(love your blog btw, you’re absolutely fabulous)

Aw, thank you so much! For a movie I randomly decided to watch two years ago, I never would have thought it would have such a profound effect on my life!

As for Re-Animator headcanons, don’t worry about starving—I definitely went overboard with Herbert's headcanons alone! Later, I’ll try to post some about Dan separately, or mix them in with Meg's, or.... maybe more of Herbert's!

Herbert's birthday is September 9th. (Yup! He shares his birthday with Jeffrey; the same can apply to Dan and Meg.) More specifically, his birthday is September 9th, 1961.

Growing up in Switzerland, Herbert is fluent in both English and German. Additionally, he's trying to learn as many languages as possible.

Herbert was miniscule growing up. Even the smallest size of clothes would drape over his body, swallowing him whole. Whenever he wanted to look threatening or present himself as respectable, it was impossible. Suits would appear awkwardly bunched up, baby hairs sticking up in every direction due to static, and his glasses, which magnified his eyes, only drew more attention to his small stature.

Similar to Dan, Herbert's a gigantic Star Trek nerd. With Star Trek premiering a little while after his 5th birthday, it's one thing he considered a miracle, especially given his disdain for television and its mindless programming. While he doesn't let anyone know he enjoys the show, he's quick to correct any inaccuracies about Star Trek that come up in conversation.

While Herbert was responsible for starting the chemical fire that killed his parents at the age of seven, he never meant it to happen on purpose. He was just a bright-eyed, curious, naïve child who wanted to push the limits of current scientific discovery. Herbert yearned for his name and works to be published in prestigious scientific journals, not in some weekly kids' science magazines. While he did resent his parents, as they provided him with the bare minimum and were relatively disengaged, he couldn't deny the fond moments he shared as well, like bonding with his mother over Star Trek.

Herbert's aviator glasses weren't always his—they used to belong to Gruber. As evident in old photos, Hans would wear them while attending his studies at Zürich. However, he decided to retire soon after graduating in favor of contacts or a different frame entirely. When Herbert entered his life, Hans gifted the young boy his aviators, updating the lenses to match his prescription and engraving a small, heartfelt message on the inside of the arm. In a way, Gruber had always seen a bit of himself in Herbert, and now Herbert carries a piece of Gruber with him.

 Alongside glasses, Gruber also gifted Herbert a Zürich sweatshirt. While it was a tad too big, he wore it a couple of times, and currently, it's neatly folded within a suitcase stowed under his bed. The suitcase also holds yellowing handwritten notes from Gruber regarding his work and Herbert, a package of his favorite chalk, and other miscellaneous keepsakes. (It may look like a horde of stationary to the ordinary eye, but to Herbert, it's much, MUCH more.)

Herbert has a soft spot and guilty pleasure for pop music. When he's sure that he's alone, within the confines of the basement's walls, he taps his foot and gradually sings the lyrics to the newest pop earworm.

While Dan specializes in cooking, Herbert specializes in baking. From a perspective, baking is similar to the scientific experiments he performed throughout his life. Herbert can be precise and deliberate, carefully measuring each ingredient and following each step with the same attention to detail he applies to his projects. A few desserts he bakes are German chocolate cake, bündner nusstorte, macaroons, and chocolate croissants.

Herbert has a massive sweet tooth, which only Dan and some stray doctors or nurses know about. Whenever he and Dan grab coffee before a shift, Herbert dumps his sugar-filled frappe into an unsuspecting paper cup, hoping that it conceals his sickly sweet indulgence behind the guise of a regular coffee. West would also make constant pit stops at his wing's hallway vending machine. Depending on how stressful his day is and which coworkers he's dealing with, he's known to stock up on candy bars, gummies, and snack cakes to get him through the day. 

Herbert has two sleeping positions, the first one being the fetal position. The second? The "completely-sprawled-out-across-his bed"....position.

One of the prime reasons why West can survive such outlandish events is his intake of Re-Agent. In addition to fending off hunger pangs and completely eradicating the human body's need for sleep, the Re-Agent also boosts his immune system tenfold and allows the body to heal faster than an average person. That's why he's able to survive the Miskatonic Massacre and the mausoleum's collapse with minor bruises and scratches. (Any broken bones or internal organ damage would automatically regenerate themselves in a matter of seconds.)

When Dan eventually weans Herbert off the Re-Agent, his body collapses on itself like a stack of cards. He'd find himself plagued by hunger, but he'd be too nauseated to eat anything. He'd constantly feel lethargic, barely mustering up the strength to keep himself standing upright and conscious. His once pristine, sturdy immune system comes crumbling down, leaving him vulnerable to minor alignments and flare-ups that he can no longer easily fight. (Oh! Can't forget about those damnable migraines that come like clockwork!) Thankfully, through time, Herbert recovers, gaining back his strength and vigor…with Dan's help of course!

He sneezes like a kitten.

Herbert's handwriting might resemble chicken scratch, but he's surprisingly good at drawing. He always carries a small leather-bound sketchbook filled to the brim with anatomical studies. (What do you mean some resemble Dan?)

West knows that claw machines are rigged and are usually pay-to-win garbage, but he refuses to let his ego take a hit if he loses in front of Dan. He'll be damned if he doesn't win that cheap plushie, no matter how much he spends.

[allimocha]

AlliMocha Fancuries FYC Post!

Hi Hello, Pip Pip Cheerio! Fancuries is here once again! And boy do I have something to share this FYC post.

So, I haven’t worked on Bittersweet X Daydream in a hot minute if I'm gonna be honest. A lot of other obligations have been taking time away from my main fanseries sadly. BUT I do have one new thing to show you guys regarding it.

…

Hear me out.

A redesign.

I KNoW I know I said no more redesigns, but after having these characters for so long, it's only natural that I'd want to change how they look. Specifically, there is only one character that I've redesigned so far anyway…

Lei Sandiego / Cure Spice

“𝘔𝘺𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘚𝘮𝘰𝘬𝘺, 𝘎𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘓𝘰𝘺𝘢𝘭 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘮𝘢! 𝘊𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘚𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘦!”

Age: 16 (Second year/Sophomore)

Birthday: September 18th

Height: 5’6”

Ethnicity: Hispanic American

Cure color: Blue and Scarlet

Essence: Charismatic

Often referred to as “The school beauty”, Lei is admired by almost all of her peers. Her amazing charisma, along with her intimidatingly cool and beautiful looks immediately captures everyone’s attention. But despite this, she’s really just a big fashion geek. She prides herself in her impeccable style savvy-ness and studies the latest trends all the time. Lei is also a very confident person, sometimes to the point that it can be overbearing, but she’s never arrogant and always means well. She’s a hopeless romantic and is constantly trying to look for someone who likes her beneath her looks. Although she’s fashion-centric she’s also very athletic, being the co-captain of the girls' volleyball team, and so devotes time to doing both hobbies.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

That's not all, however, because I also have a new series that I've been working on. A crossover series if you will. Based on one of my favorite Disney movies of all time:

Sugar Rush! Precure

A group of girls go to the arcade after school every day to hangout. They excel at most of the consoles there, notably the racing games. One day, Vanelope finds a weird token like she had never seen before, as it was engraved with intricate patterns and a shiny gold. When she attempts to use it in a racing game, it flashes in the machine and floats out as another trinket (henshin item). At that moment, a mysterious person is creating havoc outside the arcade, clearly looking for something. He spots the trinket in Vanelope’s hand, and we all know what happens from here.

Yep! Cures based on the sugar rush racers from Wreck-It Ralph! So far, I only have 2 of their designs, but I'm still completely in love with where this is going. Speaking of which, lets show those two off!

Vanelope Von Schmitt / Cure Sweets

Age: 16

A very confident girl, Vanelope is definetly the ray of sunshine that brightens anyone’s day. She’s very friendly, but is also not afraid to tell it like she sees it. She also has a habit of being overly sarcastic or jokey, which can come off as annoying to others. Not really good at school and overly clumsy, so sometimes covers her negative emotions with jokes or sarcasm. Adores arcades and always states it’s her home away from home.

Tabitha Mathews / Cure Taffy

Age: 16

Very rich and spoiled and it definetly shows. She can be cocky and overbearing at times, but she’s got a good heart. One of the more popular girls in their school, and accells in all her extracurriculars. Due to her father being principal, people have rumored that all her grades were boosted due to nepotism, but that’s not true. She works hard to get where she is, and while vain and sometimes a little rude, she isn’t afraid to help others in need. Goes to the arcade to get away at times.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

So that’s all I’ve been working on so far! I can’t really say I’ve done much with my fanseries over the years, but hopefully you all like what I do have!

Byieeee~!

[zazidot]

Winning Her Back

a/n: pt2 of the last one shot, hope you enjoy! creds to princesspeachthefroggy for helping w/ idea <3

——————————————————

Mattheo Riddle had always been impossible to ignore. From his sharp wit to his devilish smirk, he carried himself with an air of reckless confidence that drew people in. But this—this was different.

For weeks now, he’d been doing everything in his power to win me back, each effort more extravagant than the last. It would have been endearing, if not for the ache in my chest that still lingered.

He had chosen Callista over me. He had broken my heart without ever truly holding it.

And yet, here he was, determined to prove that he could put the pieces back together.

It started with the small things. He carried my books to every class, no matter how much I protested.

“Mattheo, I don’t need help,” I snapped one morning as he plucked my bag from my shoulder and slung it over his.

“I know you don’t,” he said, grinning as if my irritation was amusing. “But you deserve it anyway.”

He refused to let me lift a finger, always a step ahead. My ink bottles were refilled before I could notice they were running low. My favorite snacks appeared in my bag after a long day. He even charmed the chair I sat in during Potions to stay warm in the chilly dungeon.

It was infuriating.

And, somehow, it was also heartbreakingly sweet.

Then came the gifts.

A beautifully bound journal appeared on my desk one morning, the pages enchanted to never run out. Inside was a note in his messy scrawl:

For your thoughts, hopes, and dreams—because they’re worth more than gold.

Next came a quill enchanted to write in whatever color I imagined, followed by a delicate charm bracelet engraved with tiny runes of protection.

“You don’t have to keep buying me things,” I told him one evening as he handed me a steaming cup of hot chocolate, complete with whipped cream and cinnamon.

“I know,” he replied, his eyes locking with mine. “But I want to. You deserve to be spoiled, Y/N.”

My heart clenched painfully, but I forced myself to look away.

It wasn’t just the gifts or the gestures—it was the way he looked at me.

Every time I spoke, he watched me like I was the only person in the world. His dark eyes softened, his expression uncharacteristically tender, as if he were memorizing every word.

“Are you even listening?” I asked one evening, catching him staring at me during a study session.

“Always,” he replied, his voice low. “You’re the only thing worth listening to.”

Heat rose to my cheeks, and I quickly turned back to my notes.

But no matter how much he tried, the wound he had left behind wasn’t so easily healed.

The breaking point came one Saturday in the Great Hall. It had been another Hogsmeade weekend, and I’d spent the day avoiding Mattheo’s attempts to coax me into spending time with him.

I had just sat down at the Gryffindor table, waiting for Hermione with Cormac McLaggen started to speak. As soon as Mattheo stormed in, his eyes narrowing as they locked on me.

“Y/N,” Cormac said smoothly, leaning in a little too close. “You’re wasting your time with him, you know.”

“Excuse me?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Riddle,” Cormac said, his tone dripping with disdain. “He’s trouble. You’re better off with someone who can actually treat you right.”

Before I could respond, Mattheo was standing over us, his fists clenched.

“What did you just say?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

Cormac leaned back in his chair, smirking. “I was just telling Y/N the truth. She deserves better than some arrogant, selfish prick.”

The tension in the hall was palpable as Mattheo grabbed Cormac by the collar, yanking him to his feet.

“Say that again,” Mattheo hissed, his eyes blazing.

“Mattheo!” I exclaimed, standing quickly.

But Cormac wasn’t one to back down. “You heard me,” he said, his smirk widening. “You don’t deserve her.”

Mattheo didn’t hesitate. His fist connected with Cormac’s jaw with a sickening thud, and chaos erupted.

“Stop it!” I yelled, trying to pull Mattheo back as the two boys grappled, their fists flying.

It took Blaise, Theodore, and half of the Gryffindor Quidditch team to separate them. Mattheo’s lip was split, and Cormac sported a rapidly swelling bruise on his cheek.

“What the hell were you thinking?” I demanded as Blaise dragged Mattheo out of the hall, his smirk replaced by a look of pure frustration.

“I was thinking he needed to shut up,” Mattheo muttered, wiping blood from his lip.

“And you thought punching him was the solution?”

“He insulted you,” Mattheo said, his voice rising. “He doesn’t get to talk about you like that!”

I stared at him, my anger fading into something softer. “Mattheo, I don’t need you to fight my battles for me.”

“I know,” he said, his shoulders slumping. “But I couldn’t just stand there and let him talk about you like that. I’m not going to let anyone treat you like you’re anything less than perfect.”

His words hit me like a tidal wave, and for the first time, I saw the raw vulnerability in his eyes.

That night, he showed up outside my dorm with another gift—a mixtape.

“Mattheo, I—”

“Please,” he said, cutting me off. “Just listen to it. That’s all I’m asking.”

I hesitated but took the tape.

Back in my dorm, I pressed play, and the room filled with music. Each song was more personal than the last, the lyrics echoing everything he had been trying to say. By the time the tape ended, tears were streaming down my face.

The next morning, I found him waiting for me outside the library.

“I’ll never stop trying, Y/N,” he said, his voice steady. “I’ll fight for you every day, in every way I know how. I don’t care how long it takes—I’ll wait forever if I have to.”

For the first time, I let myself smile.

“You’re exhausting, you know that?”

He grinned, his dark eyes lighting up. “But you’re worth it.”

And maybe—just maybe—I was starting to believe him.