#unique shelving ideas
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vehandojo · 1 year ago
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Living Room - Traditional Living Room
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Inspiration for a mid-sized timeless enclosed dark wood floor living room remodel with beige walls, a ribbon fireplace, a stone fireplace and a wall-mounted tv
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mind4everinthegutter · 1 year ago
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Living Room - Traditional Living Room
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Inspiration for a mid-sized timeless enclosed dark wood floor living room remodel with beige walls, a ribbon fireplace, a stone fireplace and a wall-mounted tv
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ibminternetofthingsfi · 1 year ago
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Living Room - Traditional Living Room
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Inspiration for a mid-sized timeless enclosed dark wood floor living room remodel with beige walls, a ribbon fireplace, a stone fireplace and a wall-mounted tv
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tryingsofter · 1 year ago
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Living Room - Traditional Living Room
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Inspiration for a mid-sized timeless enclosed dark wood floor living room remodel with beige walls, a ribbon fireplace, a stone fireplace and a wall-mounted tv
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crimson-revolt · 1 year ago
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Living Room - Traditional Living Room
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Inspiration for a mid-sized timeless enclosed dark wood floor living room remodel with beige walls, a ribbon fireplace, a stone fireplace and a wall-mounted tv
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kewlgifs · 1 year ago
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Living Room - Traditional Living Room
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Inspiration for a mid-sized timeless enclosed dark wood floor living room remodel with beige walls, a ribbon fireplace, a stone fireplace and a wall-mounted tv
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saltverk · 1 year ago
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Living Room - Traditional Living Room
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Inspiration for a mid-sized timeless enclosed dark wood floor living room remodel with beige walls, a ribbon fireplace, a stone fireplace and a wall-mounted tv
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bloody-vampire-lolita · 1 year ago
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Living Room - Enclosed
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Image of a medium-sized, elegant enclosed living room with a dark wood floor, beige walls, a stone fireplace, a ribbon fireplace, and a wall-mounted television
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kennedysteve · 1 year ago
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Living Room - Traditional Living Room
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Inspiration for a mid-sized timeless enclosed dark wood floor living room remodel with beige walls, a ribbon fireplace, a stone fireplace and a wall-mounted tv
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marchacampinas · 1 year ago
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San Francisco Modern Living Room Living room - mid-sized modern open concept dark wood floor living room idea with a bar, white walls and a concealed tv
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junespringer · 1 year ago
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Kitchen - Traditional Kitchen Inspiration for a large timeless light wood floor kitchen pantry remodel
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gay-dorito-dust · 8 months ago
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How do you think the penacony guys + argenti would react to a reader who gets flustered super easily?
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Aventurine loved the fact the he didn’t have to do much in order to make you flustered.
He could caress your cheek or kiss the back of your hand and wait for the precise moment where your eyes grew wide, breath hitched in your throat as your body went rigid.
‘Oh? Is someone perhaps a little flustered from such a simple gesture as me kissing the back of your hand?’ He’d ask teasingly as an amused smile grew across his face as his eyes memorised your every micro expression. When you didn’t respond but instead avert your eyes to try and avoid his gaze, aventurine got the response that he wanted.
‘You do don’t you!’ He cried as he got closer to you, putting a hand under your chin and moving pushing it upwards so that you were forced to look into his eyes. ‘Oh isn’t that precious,’ Aventurine coos as he somehow leant in even closer to you and whispered, ‘I’m sure with enough exposure we’ll be able to build up that endurance of yours. Okay sweetheart?’ He adds with mischief clear within his beautiful eyes.
He would make a game out of how many times he could get you flustered in under a single day.
Spoiler: He managed to make you flustered roughly 10-15 times and that was only during the day!
Aventurine has a way with words with his silver tongue and he would use it on you without a second thought until you were trying to hide yourself away in his side, clinging onto him for dear life as he only laughs and kisses the top of your head.
He’s never felt this deeply about someone before and your reactions to whenever he does express his affections only told him that you felt just as strongly towards him, and that was all he could ever need to reassure himself that his feelings towards you weren’t one sided and would treat you to whatever your heart desires.
Maybe even something that made you not so secretly match with him that he knows you won’t notice until later on?
Aventurine loves your easily flustered nature but he loved you even more. You getting flustered was merely a bonus for him that he’d take advantage of as long as you were okay with it.
Sunday grows somewhat addicted to the idea that it was his touch and his alone that had seemingly had you unraveling at the seems.
He could be grabbing a cup from the shelves to make himself a drink and places his hand on your hip as to keep you from moving as he reaches over you, smiling to himself as he heard you let out a small ‘eep’ and go rigid upon contact.
‘Are you alright my dear? You’re seemingly a little tense.’ Sunday asks as he moved his head so that his mouth was level with your earn, his observant eyes watching as the goosebumps arose and how your posture straightened almost immediately.
‘Yes! I’m fine!’ You’d exclaim and Sunday moved his hand away from your hip to your shoulder, squeezing reassuringly as if he wasn’t the sole reason you were so skittish and unable to maintain eye contact.
‘No need to shout my dear, I’m right here.’ He’d say softly as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head before going about the rest of his day with the image of a flustered you to keep him in a relativity good mood.
Sunday adored your reactions to anything he did, whether big or small because it made him special, unique in your eyes that it feed into his delusion thst you were fated somewhere down the line and now you were together as promised by a higher power.
He’d start putting on your shoes for you and letting his hands linger on your legs and thighs for far longer then he should, or only let you tie his tie and revel in how flustered you get just from being in close proximity to him and silently watching on as you struggled to keep your hands steady as his musky scent invaded your senses.
Boothill adored seeing your face grow flustered and his cuteness aggression towards you would go through the roof.
He’d pinch your cheeks, you’d get flustered and try to push his hands away from your face.
He’d hug you from behind and laugh as you hurried your face into your hands to hide away how easily affected you were, but from feeling just how warm the tips of your ears were, Boothill had a vivid picture within his head about how the rest of your face looked behind your hands.
Back when you weren’t officially together Boothill even went as far as to puts his hat atop of your head, an act you weren’t all that familiar of the meaning behind, until someone brought up the fact that it meant he wanted to see more of you. Needless to say you used his hat to cover your face upon realising that the handsome cowboy you fancied was interested in you.
Even now Boothill would still puts his hat on your head and smile at how quickly it took for you to use it as a way to hide away your flustered face.
Would he playfully bite you just to what you squeak in shock and surprise? Yes, yes he would because you being flustered at anything and everything he threw at you only made Boothill’s cuteness aggression towards you worsen as you were just too darn cute for him to deny!
You were practically trapped within his arms from first thing in the morning until nightfall.
Argenti
‘Are you alright my beloved? You’re looking quite flustered, should we sit down?’
Sweet, sweet Argenti would grow excessively worried upon seeing you get worked up so easily over a small act of affection, thinking that me might’ve done something wrong and if you weren’t currently at a loss for words, you would’ve been able to calm him down and bring reason as to why that was.
All he wanted was to sing your praises and show just how amazing of a person you were to anyone who’d stop and listen, so much so that he forgot that his words held a lot more power than he thinks, seeing as how his affinity to effortlessly waxing poetry on the spot about you and your beauty had left you flustered to the high heaves and too meek to speak up on your own behalf.
‘Why do you hide away your beautiful face?’ Argenti wonders aloud as he watched you intently with kind, sweet eyes that drank you in your entirety. ‘Do you not think yourself the way that I do?’ He adds and once again you were left with a sudden inability to speak and a parched throat.
Argenti doesn’t mind you being flustered, he finds that it makes you even more beautiful in his eyes and would even praise you about your easily flustered nature, much to your dismay as this would only further send you over the edge.
He can’t help it! Everything you did was beautiful and unique to your character that he whenever he sees someone else do anything similar, his mind brings him back to you, his beloved because no one else can compare to you and you’re unique reactions towards certain aspects of life.
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sebastianchris · 2 years ago
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Formal - Living Room
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sodaabaa · 7 months ago
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late night mischief 
anthony bridgerton x wife!reader reader gets dragged into a bit of late night mischief with the bridgerton siblings while anthony is away.
tw: slightly nsfw, spanking 
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Y/N walked down the stairs of Bridgerton House, holding tightly onto the nightrobe she’d donned on her way out of her bedroom. She was having trouble sleeping due to her husband’s absence. As she walked past her husband’s study and towards the kitchen, she heard hushed whispers.
“Hush Eloise, you’ll alert the entirety of the house with your cackling!” 
“Benedict?” She muttered to herself. What could he and Eloise possibly be up to at this hour?
She pushed the door to the study open, slipping through the opening. She lifted her hand to cover her mouth, laughing silently at the sight before her. Eloise, hoisted up on a ladder rummaging through one of the many shelves in the dark room. Benedict, holding onto said ladder to prevent Eloise from stumbling. 
“What on earth are you two ne'er do wells doing?” She exclaimed, turning to shut the door before anyone else could be alerted.
Eloise turned abruptly, if it weren’t for Benedict’s hold on the ladder, she would have come toppling down. She smiled sheepishly, as did Benedict.
“Y/N! My most favored sister-in-law! Should you like to join us?” Benedict said, his eyebrows raised in invitation.
Y/N hesitated. The Bridgertons always played pranks on each other, it was part of what made this family so unique. They constantly poked fun at one another unlike the typical stuffy and overly formal families of the ton, including Y/N’s own. Pranking her older siblings was something she could never even dream of doing. She had yet to join in on any of the pranks the Bridgertons carried out but she’d been witness to her husband who found himself at the center of many a prank quite often. 
“Come now, you’ve yet to give Anthony some trouble, it’s quite the thrill to see the look of disbelief on his face,” Eloise said, imitating her eldest brother’s furrowed brow. 
She huffed, unable to keep the smile off her face. “Fine. But just this once, I do not wish to make a habit of troubling my husband, your eldest brother, I should remind you. He deserves some respect, does he not?” 
Eloise and Benedict rolled their eyes in unison, “He receives plenty of respect, why do you think he’s so pompous and arrogant half the time?” Benedict replied. 
“Come, you can begin by hiding his preferred whisky behind these dusty old books,” He said, gesturing to the crystal decanter on the wooden desk.
She walked over to the shelf, removing some of the books, a light cloud of dust billowing up at the sudden disturbance. She waved a hand in front of her face, “Dusty indeed.” Benedict shrugged, “I told you.”
She reached for the crystal decanter but before she could take it, Eloise cut in.
“Wait! We should each take a drink, imagine the look of horror on Anthony’s face if he knew we’d consumed some of his prized whiskey” She stepped down from the ladder.
Benedict chuckled, amused by the idea. 
“Well then, after you, Viscountess Bridgerton” Benedict poured a drink into a glass and handed it to her. Y/N didn’t have a habit of drinking anything stronger than wine but being in cahoots with the two most mischievous Bridgertons gave her a sudden rush. She eyed the amber liquid before she took a sip, instantly regretting it. She coughed, shocked by the bitterness of the drink.
“Is this even for human consumption?” She questioned, her face scrunched in disgust.
Benedict took the glass from her hand and only shook his head as he downed the rest of her drink. He coughed once, “Leave it to our brother to drink something as bitter as he is.” 
Eloise poured herself a sip as well, throwing her head back as she quickly swallowed the drink. She winced, “Oh, that’s awful.”
The three of them giggled, the alcohol worked quickly, warming them up and lowering their inhibitions even further. If Anthony were here to see them, she could only imagine the fury. Perhaps he’d make good on his threats to take her over his knee. Her stomach fluttered at the thought. Her husband frequently threatened to spank her, ever the authoritative viscount. Anthony hated when she made belittling remarks about herself every so often or when she teased him at dinner parties to get him riled. But he hadn’t ever gone through with it. Perhaps this would be his last straw. 
As if her thoughts had summoned him, the doorknob rattled and it felt as though someone had poured ice-cold water on the three troublemakers. They scrambled to find a place to hide, Y/N quickly shoved herself under the desk, lifting her knees to her chest hoping she’d disappear. Benedict sat on the other end of the desk, resigned at his fate of being discovered. Eloise sat on the chair, a book in hand hoping it’d simply look like she was doing some late-night reading. 
The door opened, Y/N could only hear what was about to happen. Y/N said a silent prayer for sibling-in-laws. 
“What the bloody hell are you two doing in here?” Anthony asked, not angry – yet.
“Oh, brother. How nice of you to join us. Drink?” Benedict offered, trying his best to remain nonchalant. 
“That was not an answer, Benedict. What are you doing here?” He enunciated, she could hear her husband’s patience wearing thin.
“Whatever could you mean, brother? Benedict and I could not sleep so we both had the idea of coming down here to lounge about” Eloise stuttered.
Anthony huffed, “Never mind. My wife is not in our room, do the two of you buffoons happen to know where she might be?”
Shit. 
Benedict and Eloise stilled, the latter’s eyes dropping down to where Y/N hid and then back up to Anthony.
“Eloise?” Anthony said pointedly, “Is my wife under that desk?” He huffed.
Eloise let out a nervous laugh. Y/N could feel the ground shake with each step her husband took. He towered over her, his head tilted to the side, hands on either hip. 
She looked up as innocently as she could, donning a sheepish smile in hopes it might charm her husband enough to overlook their mischief.
“Hello, dear,” She said meekly. 
Anthony rolled his eyes, reaching down to grab her arm and pull her out from underneath the desk. With his hand still around her arm, he looked at his siblings. 
“Bed. Now.” 
With that, the two scurried away, leaving Y/N alone with her husband. 
Anthony let her go, reaching behind her to fill his cup with a drink. He swirled the glass, staring her down as he took a sip and then, to her utter shock, downed the entire glass at once with no indication of its bitterness. She swallowed, suddenly intimidated by the man in front of her and his tolerance of strong liquor. He turned, taking a seat in his chair, knees spread. He rested his head in one of his hands, looking at his wife in thought.
She stood before him and although he was looking up at her, Y/N felt rather small. Warmth rose to her cheeks, Anthony’s gaze was intense and there was nothing she could do to escape it. He exhaled. 
“Come here,” he motioned with a hand. She walked towards him, hesitant. He grabbed her, pulling her to stand in between his legs. His hands trailed up until they rested at her waist. Her breathing quickened in pace. 
“You’re becoming quite troublesome, Y/N, what am I to do with you?” He murmured, his hands tightening their grip on her waist.
It must have been the alcohol for she had never been one to be so forward, especially with the man before her. Despite being married for nearly a year, she still found herself timid when he gazed at her with eyes filled with desire, and hunger. 
“I recall several threats of a spanking, my lord” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
Anthony’s brows raised a smile formed on his face in amusement but his eyes darkened at the challenge. In one swift motion, he pulled her down over his knees. Her torso rested on one knee while his other knee lifted over her lower body to keep her legs in place. She stumbled forward but he quickly grabbed one of her arms, pulling it behind her to keep her steady. Her other arm rested on her side, against her husband’s chest. His other hand snaked up under her robe, Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. 
“Count each spank,” he commanded. His voice rumbled through Y/N’s core.
She only nodded, failing to muster the courage to speak. Her breath quickened in anticipation, suspense prickling at her skin. When she least expected it, his hand came down harshly with a loud slap. At first, she couldn’t feel the impact but mere seconds later, warmth spread across her bottom. She gasped.
“Count," he repeated.
She inhaled, “One.”
His hand came down again. 
“Two.”
Again. 
“Three.”
Y/N’s face grew warmer, tears beginning to well in her eyes at the stinging sensation. She felt electrified. Her breaths came in and out rapidly as he continued his punishment. 
She yelped, and the warm sting finally made way to a more painful sensation. Anthony stopped, assuming she’d had enough. She struggled against him, trying to wriggle her arm out of his grasp. His rough hands gently rubbed her bottom, hot from the impact. Cooing and shushing her to calm her before he released her.
“Are you alright?” He asked her softly, releasing his grip and pulling her into a straddling position. She nodded against his neck, her cheeks still warm. He pulled her back and held her face for a moment, scanning her for signs of regret or fear. She gave him a sleepy smile. When he was satisfied that she was only tired from their activities, his fingers buried themselves in her hair, gently caressing her, causing her to grow even sleepier. She hummed, enjoying the tender moment between them after days of missing her husband. 
“I must say if this is how you’d like to end nights of mischief – I might allow for more opportunities,” her husband chuckled. 
She huffed a laugh, already falling asleep against his chest to the rise and fall of his breathing. She felt him press a kiss atop her head, murmuring something she couldn’t quite catch as she drifted off.
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lovesick-desires · 6 days ago
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A CORRUPT COVENANT
YANDERE!SILCO X MAGE!READER — CHAPTER ONE
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ABSTRACT: Silco learns of a mage who works in The Lanes who is proficient in potion work. Thinking of utilizing the mage's potions to perfect Shimmer, he realizes he is much more interested in the mage than first anticipated. AUTHOR'S NOTE: Silco is not really yandere this chapter, but it will ramp up in future ones. CONTENT WARNINGS: gender neutral reader, slowburn yandere, slight yandere behavior, intimidation/coercion, swearing, no mentions of "y/n", mentions of drug use, abuse of power, utilization of witchcraft, semi-proof read SILCO’S YANDERE ARCHETYPE: possessive, manipulative WORD COUNT: 1.6k+ WRITING ASSISTED BY: Opal (ty for the ideas <3)
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It was a dog-eat-dog world in the Undercity. Being outcast and demonized by the sycophants and aristocrats of Piltover, Zaunites were constantly at each other's throats just to survive.
Everyone knew that and you were no different.
Being a born and raised Zaunite yourself, you learned how to fight for survival. Life didn't give you all the cushy luxuries Pilties got fed to them by a silver spoon.
Seeing the divide between the two nations made you cold and bitter to the topsiders like most others in Zaun. Most used violence and rage as an outlet, but you turned to the arcane. This outlet led you to study magic and witchcraft for years, learning the art of spellcasting and potion brewing. This hobby of yours eventually made you strong enough in your craft to start taking patrons. With having such a unique talent such as yours, you knew how to utilize it to your financial gain. Selling your goods was a tricky business as most would try to swindle you or intimidate you. However, due to being stubborn in your ways, things almost always turned out in your favor.
The thing is, with a business in the arcane, you usually drew an odd crowd of people. Shimmer addicts looking for a quick fix, lovelorn individuals requesting aphrodisiacs, and many more oddballs. However, to you, business was business as long as they paid the price.
Eventually, your name got around quickly in the streets of Zaun, in good and bad ways. People would become more frequently coming for your wares which you could always provide if the price was met. This financial journey eventually led you to open up shop in the outskirts of The Lanes, taking refuge in an old bar that closed down due to competitors such as The Last Drop. Despite the stench of cigar smoke and booze embedded into the floorboards and walls, you set up shop in the quaint little outlet. Potions, crystals, herbs and other miscellaneous magic materials were neatly displayed on rickety shelves that adorned the walls that were once used to display various liquors. The stench of substances eventually got replaced with the melodious aroma of lavender and rose incense that seeped into the wooden architecture after months of utilization.
It wasn't much of a shop, but it was yours and that was all that mattered: The Opalite Oracle.
Months had passed since you opened the shop's doors and business was going well. As you tinkered with the potion on your desk, adding some rose petal dust for a client's aphrodisiac request. You could hear the patchwork clock on the wall tick to 12 am, making a small chime for the turn of the day. A sigh escaped your lips as you reached for the garnet dust, your fingers barely able to snatch it from the other end of the desk. Pouring small increments of the dust into the potion vial, you could hear the rain pounding on the glass window outside. Oddly enough, you felt like you were being watched as the hairs on your arms stood at attention. Looking back at the window, not a soul was outside in the pouring rain. Waving it off, you turned back to your project.
As thunder rumbled the quaint building, the shop bell rang, much to your digression. The store had been closed for the past two hours and you must have forgotten to lock the door at closing again.
"Scram, we're closed. We open at 10 am tomorrow morning," You declared, hearing the firm steps of boots wonder your shop. God dammit, these people are always deaf or stupid. Or maybe both.
"Did you hear me? We are closed, fuck off." You added, putting a cork in the top of the aphrodisiac vial. Staring at the pink liquid in the vial, you heard the footsteps stop behind you at your counter. Eliciting a groan from your vocal cords, you spin in your stool to face the person pestering you at this ungodly hour.
"Hey, dumbass, you got wax in your ears? I said we're clo—"
When you spun around, you were greeted with an unexpected sight. The Eye of Zaun, Silco, was standing there with his hands behind his back, an unimpressed look on his face.
"Hm? What did you just call me?" He rasped softly as he leaned over the counter, the smell of cigar smoke billowed from his breath as his lips moved into a slight smirk. The sly bastard placed a hand on the weathered wooden counter, tapping his nails against it. Pursing you lips, you can't help but feel yourself shrink slightly in your seat at the sight of the man before you.
"Nothing." You murmured with a voice laced with weariness. Silco wasn't the kind of man to come down to The Lanes like this and anybody knew that much. Usually, he would send one of his goons like Sevika to do his bidding for him. The man himself made rare appearances once a blue moon, so his appearance at this hour in your cozy little boutique must hold some importance. To this, Silco retracted his hand from the counter as he stood at his full height.
"Ah, that's better." He taunted, raising a brow at your sudden change of attitude even though he knew exactly why it occurred. Your gaze lingering on his sly smirk as he reached back towards the counter. With a nimble hand, Silco swiped the pink vial from your hands, inspecting the liquid and its contents swaying and bobbing inside. As if hypnotized by the pink fluid in the vial, he holds it up to the lantern illuminating the shop, watching the potion ebb and flow in its container.
"What do you want?" You queried with an annoyed edge to your voice. To this, Silco's gaze floats back to you with a small glint in his eyes.
"Ah, what do I want? Well, I want a lot of things." He croaked as he placed his other hand on the counter, leaning ever-so-slightly towards you as his gaze narrowed. To this, a slight shiver ran down your spine, causing your nails to bore into the flesh of their knees.
"To start, however, I see you are skilled with the arcane, correct?" He probed, his gaze shifting back to the vial in his fingers. To this, a soft hum of confirmation emerged from your throat. Silco's smirk widened as he gazed back at you, his eyes flickering with slight amusement. With a swift flick of the wrist, he tossed the vial behind him and let it shatter on the floor. The porous floorboards slowly absorbed the pink liquid, leaving only shredded herbs and shards of glass in its wake.
"Hey! What the—"
"You're perfect then." Silco interjected, his voice akin to a cinnamon whiskey. His now free hand joined the other on the counter, leaning forward slightly to look down upon you.
"You see, I need some assistance with a project I am undertaking." He added, reaching back into the interior pocket of his collared trench to retrieve three vials of a glowing, purple substance: Shimmer. Anyone in the Undercity with a brain knew what Shimmer was.
"What about it?" You retorted as the drug lord put the vials on your counter, letting the glass clink against the wood.
"Impatient, are we?" He mocked, his hand raised from the counter to grab your chin firmly in his cold, calloused hand, making you look up at him. "My, where are your manners?" He tutted, cocking his head to the side.
"Can you just tell me what you want? Please?" You begrudgingly asked, making Silco remove his hand from your chin with a soft tsk.
"Ah, well, since you asked so nicely, I'll lay it out for you. I need some assistance negating the side effects. You see, I can't let people get physical deformities from my product. It's bad for business." He declared with a guttural tone to his voice. "That's where you come in."
"Me?"
"You." He emphasized, his gaze stern and uncompromising. "You and your expertise are the key to Shimmer's success, dear." He continued as his gaze wondered to the potions on the wall of shelves behind you, internally inspecting the colors and consistencies of the multitude of bottled-up fluids. Eventually, his gaze crept back to the mage before him.
"I will require your assistance in this task. With your unique set of skills, you are exactly who I need." The drug lord proclaimed, a slight glimmer in his orange eye that you couldn't quiet read, but you knew it wasn't good. Shimmer was tearing Zaun apart, turning people into more animals than humans. You didn't want to take part, but what choice did you have?
"And if I refuse?" You questioned, your brows knitted together in a slight scowl. You knew you shouldn't push your luck but something in you told you to at least try. To this, Silco scoffed and looked unimpressed.
"Do you really think you have a choice here?" Silco retorted with a raised brow, knowing both of you knew the answer to that. To this, you sighed and looked at the vials of shimmer before you, watching the liquid glow and bubble in its containers.
"Will I be financially compensated for my time?" You queried, looking back up at the man before you. To this, a small smirk stretched across Silco's lips as he knew he had you know.
"Yes, you will be paid handsomely for your time and cooperation." He answered, leaning back slightly to get a better look at you. To this, you felt a pit form in your stomach but you tried to ignore it as you offered your hand for him to shake.
"Then, it's a deal." You spoke, sealing your fate for a handshake. To this, the smirk on the drug lord's face evolved into a smile, showing his crooked teeth as he shook your hand.
"A deal's a deal, dear."
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SONG OF THE FIC: LET THE WORLD BURN - CHRIS GREY
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zoesmp4 · 8 months ago
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STUPID “love makes you stupid.” carl grimes x walsh!reader
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tags: angst, some fluff, violence, blood, 6x9
a/n: omg this req was SO good i am sosososo sorry i couldn’t execute it properly 😭 im not so proud of this one, but i hope its ok!! 
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you and carl grimes had been best friends ever since you could walk. you both met when your dad brought you to "bring your kid to work day" down at the station. the scent of coffee and the echo of footsteps filled the air.
it started to seem extremely boring, until a stranger approached you and your dad. you saw a little boy standing next to him, and felt a little less lonely. the man recognized you, though you had no idea who he was. "hi there y/n, this is carl." he introduced.
ever since then, you guys were inseparable. you and carl had a bond which was special, it was like no other. you could be yourself around him, and you could tell carl felt the same. the ease, the comfort, like you didn't have to pretend to be anyone else when you were together.
as expected, seeing him for the first time after the apocalypse started unleashed a unique wave of relief within you. you vividly recall the both of you making eye contact and running toward each other. you hugged each other tightly, as if you'd been separated for years.
"i was so scared!" you said, clutching your doll in your hand. "you don't need to be scared anymore," he reassured. "i'm here to protect you." carl loved to be your knight in shining armor, even when you were young.
through all the dark days, and as you both grew older, you two had always been there for each other. no matter whatever crap life threw at you, you guys stuck together. walker got too close to you? dead.
"i would never let anything happen to you. don't worry." he would always say. he was your closest friend, your ride or die. growing up was hard enough during the apocalypse, but having each other made it bearable.
however, as time passed, you started to feel a different way towards him. you started to feel as if things wouldn't be so bad if you guys were more than friends. actually, it was starting to seem like it was all you could dream of.
you thought it was just a one time thing, but you were dumb to think so. you often found yourself blushing at the thought of him, and when he had caught you daydreaming, let's just say he was curious.
"come on, why can't you just tell me who you like?" he asked, growing more agitated by the second. "shut up, i don't like anyone." you said, rolling your eyes playfully. "bullshit, tell me who it is." he said, looking you in the eye, a grin plastered onto his pretty face.
"nope!" you replied, popping the "p."
carl grimes had stolen your heart, and there was no doubt about it. you knew he had you wrapped around his finger, it was quite obvious when you would stress whenever he got the tiniest injury.
"calm down, it's just a cut." "do you ever shut up?" you would say, reaching for the bandaids on the top shelves of your room. "it's really not as bad as it looks." you knew he was telling the truth, it was never that serious. however, you being you, you couldn't help but worry. 
but now? now it was actually serious. too serious. you felt the panic start to sink in the second you saw ron, a vengeful look on his face, pointing a gun in rick's direction. you froze when you realized who was in standing front of him. it was carl. your carl.
"you." ron said. your heart pounded against your ribs. your breaths were shallow and rapid, as a wave of terror gripped you. surely he wouldn't actually shoot. right? so many possibilities were going through your head at once, it was the worst thing you ever experienced.
fortunately, michonne came in a flash. you jumped slightly when her katana pierced through ron's skin. atleast it was all over now though. rick was alright. carl was alright.
or so you thought.
BANG!
his stupid fucking finger slipped. 
all of your negative thoughts came flooding back into your mind the moment the sound of the gunshot hit your eardrums. however, among all of your worries, there was one most prominent. where did the bullet go?
your eyes darted around before your gaze landed on carl. he had his head down, and when he looked up, it felt as if all the air in your lungs had been sucked out of your body. "dad?" he whimpered out.
he had been shot. in the head. directly into his eyesocket. the amount of blood flowing down his face made you sick to your stomach. it was only a matter of seconds before his body went limp and fell to the ground.
you never knew it was possible to feel this angry. there was no way in hell that just happened, and you couldn't do anything to stop it. it should've been you.
your facial expression contorted into one showing pure horror and anxiety. your eyes widened, tears at the rim, threatening to fall out. you breathed heavily, as you felt anguish and rage twist within you. rick lifted carl into his arms and carried him. that was your cue to pull out your knife.
you and michonne ran in front of rick and carl, killing walkers one by one. you were going ballistic, slashing every walker you possibly could, grunts escaping your mouth with every stab. you were going on a rampage, you weren't even thinking, you were just so enraged. how could you have let that happen to him?
blood splattered across your face, but you barely even noticed. hot tears streamed down your cheeks. each drop carried the weight of frustration and sorrow, their salty taste bitter on your lips. your body started to grow tired, but you kept pushing. dozens of walkers were laying on the ground.
now, the focus was getting carl help. and that's what you wanted. but you just couldn't stop. you were about to plunge your bloody knife into yet another walker, but michonne caught your arm in mid-air.
"that's enough." she said. she noticed how your chest rose and fell at a rapid pace, and the way you looked like you wanted to watch the world burn.
she took the knife from your grasp before putting her hand around your shoulder for a few seconds to calm you down. "we have to hurry." she continued to kill every walker in her sight, one by one. you didn't care that your body hurt like hell, you didn't care about all the blood splattered onto you, you didn't care that you were exhausted.
the only thing you cared about was carl. would he be okay? was this the end? were you gonna lose your other half? your heart ached. you weren't even gonna get to tell him how you felt about him.
after what seemed like hours of running and fighting, you found yourself laying down in the infirmary bed next to carl's. he'd been patched up before you. he was sleeping, and you were glad he was getting the rest he needed.
but every time you looked at him, your chest tightened. he should've never even have to be here. he should've never had to go through that, ever.
daryl had a chair pulled up next to your bed. he was like a father figure to you after shane died. he sighed, wiping your now crimson splattered arms with a wet rag to clean off the blood. "y' used the knife i gave you?" he said, not looking up from your arm. "yeah, it's the best i have."
the silence in the room was so loud. it's not that he was disappointed in you, he was proud you were able to defend yourself. it was the fact that you could've died and you still kept pushing that made him so quiet. he cared about you a lot, and he knew you didn't have to fight so hard, especially at your age.
"why'd you do that?" he asks, finally making eye contact with you. you let out a breath before opening your mouth to speak, "love makes you stupid."
it felt nice, to finally be able to talk to someone about your feelings for the blue eyed boy. after all, you were never gonna tell him, so atleast you could tell someone. "damn right it does." he replied, before lighty ruffling your hair. 
"get some sleep, okay kiddo?" daryl said, wiping the last of the blood off your arms. "yeah, jus- please don't te-" "i won't tell a soul." he cut you off, already knowing what you were gonna ask of him. "thanks." you said, smiling.
little did you know, daryl wasn't the only person who heard your late night confession. a "sleeping" carl stirred in his bed, now facing the wall in the opposite direction of you. perhaps it was the exhaustion getting to you, but you could've sworn you heard a light chuckle.
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