#looking at you with that last bit elsie

[iciatheguardess]

I was worried but these turned out looking so good

Pizza muffins ✨️✨️✨️

Eat up yall

(For those of you who don't want any I have spaghetti)

#looking at you with that last bit elsie #love youuuu #modstar

[joojconverts]

4T3 Conversion of TwentiethCenturySims' Catalogue

A 4t3 conversion of (most of) twentiethcenturysims' catalogue for all your sims! I truly hope you like it! Enjoy! <3

In this compilation are included sets, mini-sets and standalone pieces that the original creator made! Recolors, posepacks, fantasy items, repeated pieces (things very similar to what I've already converted in the past), and pieces categorized as "timeless" are not included!

This is what I've been working on haha! My last statement for some time... thank you all so much, once again! 💖

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Known Problems:

The trim on the "Wilma Casual Dress" (purple dress with bow) gets a bit wonky at the end of the skirt! I tried to fix it in many different ways, but this is what I got!

The pleads on the "French Hen Dress" also get a bit wonky, same as above!

LIGHTING GLITCHES ONLY APPEAR ON CAS!

* Note that teens and elders have neck gaps. This is sadly the price for having them available! For teens, try using this and this slider by gruesim!

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ALL OG CREDITS GO T​O @twentiethcenturysims! IT’S NOT MY MESHES, AND IT’S NOT MY TEXTURES, I JUST CONVERTED THEM TO THE SIMS 3!

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NOTES:

Because TwentiethCenturySims is a great creator, his whole catalogue is quite low-poly and gameplay friendly, so don't worry about that!

All 3 hats are hat-slider compatible and unissex, as always!

The Ida, Annie and Elsie dresses (gingham and flowers pattern) all have 11 presets. First 10 are overlays, having multiple floral options, but with collars, buttons and bows being recolorable. Last one is completely recolorable!

The "baby sweater" (green sweater with black tie) has 4 presets, first two having christmas-like patterns, third one having a knitted pattern, and last one being completely CAStable!

The "baby dress" (red dress with white collar) has 12 presets. 6 first presets have a velvety texture which is recolorable, with 5 flower options to the collar, and one without the flowers. Same applies to the other 6, but they don't have the velvet texture to the dress!

The "baby hat" also comes with 2 presets, one having a velvety texture, and the other one not!

The "Havana jacket" (orange jacket with white shirt) has 31 presets. First one is completely recolorable, and the other 30 are a variety of overlay patterns to the white shirt. The jacket stays recolorable in all of them!

The "Eleanor 1930's Dress" (green dress with bow) has 6 presets. First 4 have overlay patterned presets to the dress, but the bow, collar and trim stay recolorable. The last 2 are completely CAStable!

The "Piper Dress" (kids' dress with blue bow) has 4 presets. The first 4 have overlay patterned presets on the dress, but the rest remains recolorable! The last one is completely recolorable!

The "Goose Suit" (kids' gray suit) has 3 presets. First two have different patterns checkered patterns, and the last one is plain. In all of them the collar is an overlay texture.

The "Ruffles the Clown Costume" has 2 presets, having two different stripe options.

The "Billy Sailor Suit" (Toddler's sailor-inspired outfit) has 2 presets, with two different mask options. The second one has three little recolorable circles on the belt.

The "Darlene Sailor Dress" is the same as the above, but reversed haha!

The "Swan Suit" (houndstooth patterned suit) is totally recolorable, though it may not seem like it lol! I added the houndstooth pattern from CAS, which you can remove and put anything you want instead!

The "Bonnie Two-Piece Dress" (checkered dress with buttons) has two versions: the AF-EF version, as usual, and a teen-age conversion, just because I feel like it'd be useful to you!

The "Viola 1930's Dress" (yellow stripes and brooch dress) has 5 presets. The first, second and last presets are totally recolorable, having different mask options! Third and fourth presets have floral patterned overlays on the dress, but the collar, belt, etc. remains recolorable! The brooch looks a bit off without the accessory overlay, which is the next note!

There is an overlay/color mix accessory for the brooch on the "Viola Dress, which can be found in the socks category. It gives a multiplier (details) to the brooch, as well as making it fully recolorable! If you're going to use the dress, I highly recommend only using it with the accessory activated! It has a separate thumbnail, as seen in the previews!

As you saw on the previews, there are two buy mode objects: a highchair and a potty, both for your babies! They're found where these objects are usually found (Kids -> Baby Furniture). The potty costs §30, and the highchair costs §100!

You probably noticed the 4 skirt thumbnails (with its half options) at the bottom. Because I don't want this post to be gigantic, I'll link to the original post where twentiethcenturysims explains how to use them and their purposes: HERE! Yes, they're found under "accessories"!

I think that's all haha! Now to the download! <3

SimFileShare |  Dropbox

☕  buy me a coffee or become a patron!

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Credits:

@twentiethcenturysims for all the meshes and textures; you can find everything here!

💖 @katsujiiccfinds​​​ @emilyccfinds​​​ @kpccfinds​​​  @xto3conversionsfinds

#ts3cc #s3cc #ts3 cc #4t3 #ts4 to ts3

[fortisfilia]

Promised Part 7 - Tom Riddle x reader

Info: This is a rewrite of a story I've posted on my old account years ago. If it sounds familiar, that might be why :)

Summary: In this story, Tom didn't grow up as an orphan, but with his grandfather and uncle. Reader's sister got very sick and the Gaunts offer their help. But not without asking for something in return.

Warnings: Arranged marriage

Word count: 3.2k

Masterpost | Masterlist | Part 6 | Part 8

Part 7 - Gift Giving

“So this is the last part of the house,” you said, after giving Tom a tour around the estate, arriving upstairs in the corridor leading to the bedrooms. “The guestroom is right at the end of the hallway. It has its own bathroom, which is a bit small. I hope you don’t mind.”

Tom shook his head as he peered towards the half-open door to the guestroom, that the house-elves were preparing for him.

“This right there is Elsie’s room, next to it is the master bedroom. And this,” you said, leaning onto a door. “Is my room.”

Tom’s eyes met yours. 

“Want to come in?”

He nodded.

There was a sense of excitement in the air, letting Tom enter your room. It was something so private, it felt like you let him walk straight into your head. But it was the polite thing to do. Although he didn’t seem too crushed from the argument he had had with his grandfather and uncle, it surely would make him feel better if he knew he was welcome here. He wouldn't want to be treated differently than usual, you knew, but a little empathy couldn't hurt.

“Take a seat if you like. Anywhere,” you said, trying to hide the nerves that were making your fingertips tingle. Sitting down on the sofa next to the bookshelf, you folded your treacherous hands and watched him walk across the room. He glanced at your belongings, only in passing, one would think, if he weren't Tom Riddle. Surely he had made up his mind about every single thing he saw. Every book, each letter from Camille on the desk, and crumpled note in the bin. You should have cleaned. He stopped by the desk and picked up a framed picture of you and your family.

“Sorry about my mother,” you mentioned when you noticed what he was inspecting.

“What do you mean?”

“She can be a bit brash, you know. When she asked you to stay earlier. But she usually means well.”

“Oh.” He set the picture back down. “I didn’t mind actually. You know my family. They’re brash. And not the good kind.”

Absolutely not the good kind. “Is it always like that with them?” 

“Since I can remember at least.”

There was a moment of silence. 

“I’m sorry,” you then said. 

“For what? That’s just how it is. They have their ways and I have mine.”

Right. He must be used to them by now. What a sad thought. “Did you know they would bring up the unbreakable vow?“

“No… I had no idea. They’re idiots. Just stupid. Why ask for more each time? They always want to be a step ahead for nothing.”

“What did you say to them?” you asked, hiding that you already knew.

“That I wouldn’t do it. They took our word for it then and that should be enough. They can’t force us to do a vow.”

“How angry are they?”

“They’ll come around,” he shrugged. “It wasn’t our first argument and it won’t be our last.”

“It must be hard to put up with them. They seem… exhausting.”

“I don’t know any different.” His voice was neutral as he leant against the desk, still looking around the room. “It’s not that bad I suppose.”

“Not that good either, though. I know it might not be my place, but they’re so cold. I can’t imagine what living with them must be like.”

“Well, I can’t complain, can I?” he said, raising a brow to your unsolicited sympathy. “I was fed every day. The house was warm and the bills were paid. What more could I ask for?”

A lot more, one would say if the question wasn’t a rhetorical one. “Have you always lived with them?”

“Yes.”

“What about -” You cut yourself off. There were plenty of rumours about Tom’s parents, each of them too wild to be true.

“My parents?” His eyes were still on you, not in anger, yet the intensity of his stare threatened to burn holes through your skin.

Your retreat was subconscious when you could no longer withstand his gaze and nodded. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have.”

Tom exhaled sharply. It almost sounded like a laugh. “I don't usually talk about it because people just want to know about them so they can get something out of it. It’s not a sensitive subject for me though. I don’t mind.”

There was no irony in his voice, his features collected, so you dared to ask, "Do you miss them?" 

“Never have.”

“Really? You never wished to live with your parents instead of Marvolo and Morfin?”

Tom smiled weakly and shook his head. “Wishing for something won’t make it happen. And no. It would have been quite the same, I think. Maybe even worse.”

“Worse?”

“You’ve heard how Marvolo talks about my parents. His daughter and a muggle. A stain in the bloodline he said, didn’t he?”

“But if they loved each other that shouldn’t have mattered to him.”

His eyebrows rose in what looked like a strange form of amusement. “Well, that’s a whole other story.”

What did that even mean? “Have they-”

Tom shook his head, making it clear that he wasn’t going to talk any further about it. He walked across the room towards you, fiddling something out from the inner pocket of his jacket. 

That had been one question too much apparently, and it was unclear if he was pulling out his wand or was on his way out, but as you opened your mouth again, he sat down beside you.

“I’m going to tell you,” he said. “Not now though. You’re going to know everything about me eventually. Someday.”

“Someday then,” you repeated. “What have you got there?”

He held the thing from his jacket in his hand now. It was a package that seemed a bit squished as if it had barely fit into the pocket.

“Hold on,” he said and waved his wand at it, to smooth out the wrinkles on the paper. It was a present, a rectangular box, covered in dark green gift wrap. “I thought it would be impolite to come over for lunch without bringing at least a little Christmas gift.”

“Oh, you shouldn’t have,” you said as he handed over the present. 

“Go on, open it,” he said and motioned with his hand.

So you did and quickly found out what the package contained. A small handwritten book, full of potions recipes. 

“Nicked it from my uncle when he wasn’t looking,” Tom said. “So you better don’t mention it to him.”

“Oh great,” you laughed as you flipped through it. “Wow, I haven’t heard of any of these.”

“None of them are taught in school. I thought you’d like them. Didn’t seem like the ones we do with Slughorn were much of a challenge for you.”

The book looked as if it had been used a lot. The thin black binder was frayed and faded, and the edges of the pages were crinkled. On every other page, the handwriting changed, so it seemed that many different people had written the recipes. Poisons, antidotes and bewitchments you had never heard of were all listed, neatly explained and completed with full lists of ingredients.

“Where did your uncle get this from?” you asked, still looking through it.

“I’m not sure. Knockturn Alley perhaps, or on some market. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had added a few ones himself.”

As peculiar as it was, not many people could say they got a book of dark magic and probably illegal potions for Christmas.

“What an unusual gift. I do like it. Thank you, really!” you said and opened your arms to hug him, out of pure habit, but froze when you saw his stern expression, your arms still open. 

He looked into your eyes again, seemed to think for a moment and finally nodded to let you hug him. Just like when you had held hands, he was stiff and rigid, it felt like he was uncomfortable. You retracted, but as soon as you let go, he wrapped his arms around you and held you a little tighter, extending the embrace for a few more seconds.

There was a ghost of a smile on his face when you sat back straight and he was about to say something when the door flew open.

Tummy, one of the house-elves, stood in the door frame. “Miss, the guestroom is ready. Mister Riddle, Sir, please follow me.”

“Great,” Tom whispered under his breath, got up and followed the elf.

You quickly hid the book under your pillow and called after them, “It’d be nice if you could knock next time, Tummy!”

“Sorry Miss! Will knock!” His voice echoed from the hallway.

When Mother called for dinner in the evening it was quiet at first. The turmoil from lunch still lingered in the air and no one had the heart to talk about it. The usual pleasantries didn’t last for long, so everyone resorted to picking on their food, which was better than exchanging uncomfortable glances.

“Tom?” Elsie said all of a sudden, breaking the silence.

“Yes?” he answered and you looked back and forth between the two.

“Did you know I’ll go to Hogwarts too next term?” Elsie went on, a very proud tone in her voice.

He grinned while picking up some green beans with his fork. “I did know that, yes.”

“I haven’t gotten the letter yet, so technically I don’t know if I’ll get in, but my parents said it will come on my eleventh birthday.”

“I’m sure it will.”

He had barely finished his last word when Elsie asked the next thing. 

“What’s your favourite subject?”

“Um… Defence Against The Dark Arts, I think,” Tom said. “It’s interesting enough.”

“Why?”

“Well,” he took a second to think. “I like to be prepared.”

“And you’re in Slytherin, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think I’ll get sorted into Slytherin?”

“Depends. Is it your favourite?”

You caught your parents exchanging looks and smiling at each other.

“Um… Well,” Elsie began. “I think they’re all nice. But Gryffindor is the best I guess.”

Tom clicked his tongue and shook his head jokingly. “Shame,” he said.

“Do you play Quidditch?” Elsie asked.

“No, I’m not into sports.”

“But can you fly?”

“Yes, I’m a decent flyer.”

She looked at your parents for a moment and whispered to Tom, “Do you think you can show me? How to fly a broom. I got one for Christmas, you see. And I-”

“Elsie,” Father laughed. “Let the boy eat, please.”

“No, I can show you,” Tom said. “It’s the least I can do to show my respect after you’re letting me stay here.”

“That’s very kind of you Tom,” Mother said. “And you can stay as long as you like.”

“Thank you. I won’t bother you for long though,” he answered.

Dessert was served and Elsie peppered Tom with questions about brooms until Father finally told her to leave him alone. 

Later that night, when you lay in bed, you pulled the book out from under your pillow and held it for a while. It probably wasn’t even meant to be so special, but the fact that Tom had thought of giving you a present for Christmas, was not what you would have expected.

And you hadn’t even wasted a single thought about getting him something. How ignorant. 

You wondered how he felt about that. If he even felt about that, one way or another.

Your fingertip ran up and down the book spine countless times while you stared up onto the ceiling. You had to get him something. Something special.

And then you wondered if he couldn’t sleep either. If he wanted to talk for just a bit as well. If he thought about lying next to you, too. You could try to sneak out of your room and over to the guest room. Your parents wouldn’t like that of course, but you were going to marry him. They had to get used to the thought. And if you were quiet enough, they wouldn’t even notice.

You sat up slowly, put the book back under your pillow and tiptoed to the door of your room. Turning the doorknob as quietly as possible and holding your breath, you looked out into the dark hallway. You wouldn’t even need light, you knew this hallway like the back of your hand. Fifteen, maybe twenty quick steps and you would be right by the door to the guest room. So you took the first step out of your room.

“Miss!” a squeaky voice whispered in the dark from below. 

It was Tummy, standing there alone. 

“Tummy?” you asked quietly. “What are you doing here?”

“Miss, Master told Tummy to keep watch all night. So that Mister Riddle wouldn’t disturb you in your room.”

Great. Your parents were a few steps ahead. 

“Can Tummy get you anything, Miss?”

“No, I… I just thought I heard something,” you sighed. “Does Father really force you to stay up all night? You can go downstairs to sleep if you want to.”

“No, Miss, no,” the elf said and smiled. “Tummy sleeps right here on the floor. I have very good ears, yes. I hear every little noise, you see? I will wake up whenever I hear something and alert the Masters.”

Unbelievable. They had thought of everything.

“I see,” you said. “But I’m not afraid Tom would disturb me. You really can go downstairs.”

“Miss, Tummy is thankful for your offer, but I must follow the Master's order. Tummy doesn’t mind it.”

“Alright then,” you gave up. “Hang on though.” You went back into your room, and fetched one of the three pillows from your bed. “Take this at least,” you told the elf and gave him the pillow. “It’s big enough for you to sleep on.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary. Please.”

“I insist.”

Tummy smiled, took the pillow and nodded. “Thank you, Miss. Tummy is very grateful.”

“Good night, Tummy.

“Good night, Miss.”

The following day went by quicker than you had wanted it to. Father, Tom and Elsie went outside in the late morning to give Elsie her long-awaited flying lessons. They were a great team, against all expectations. You watched them from the kitchen window and noticed how Father held himself back from helping. He kept a careful eye on the two when Tom showed Elsie how to mount the broom correctly.

Elsie listened intently to everything Tom told her, tried to follow each step precisely and could properly hold herself in the air after a while. Father and Tom seemed incredibly proud, not only of themselves but of your little sister.

You could have watched them for hours, but Mother had called you to the reading room, to go to Diagon Alley via the Floo Network. You had asked her to take her with you since you wanted to get some new quills for school and a proper Christmas present for Tom.

Thankfully Diagon Alley wasn’t too busy, yet it took you a while to find an appropriate gift. You hadn’t even known where to start looking, but when you finally saw it in the shop window, you knew it was perfect.

Back home, Elsie, Father and Tom were just walking back inside, their cheeks and noses all flushed from the hours they had spent out in the cold. Elsie jumped through the living room, raving about how high she was able to fly now. She had even attempted to do some advanced twists but almost had taken a fall.

Father patted Tom on the shoulder and thanked him for his time, which made Tom’s ears turn almost as pink as his cheeks and nose.

After congratulating your sister on her achievement, you turned to Tom. “Would you follow me? There’s something I want to show you.”

You took him to the reading room, where the parcel you got him stood under the desk.

“Long day, huh?” you asked when you closed the door behind you.

He nodded. "Successful though. Your sister is a quick learner. She could make it on the Quidditch team one day.”

“Thank you for teaching her,” you said. “We all appreciate it.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

Now that you were with him, you didn’t know where to start. Should you tell him about lying in bed with the book in your hand, thinking of him? That you almost would have knocked on his door in the middle of the night, if Tummy had not been there? That could sound terribly invasive. What if he wouldn’t have wanted you to come? Now that you thought about it, you were glad that Tummy had spoiled your plan. Nighttime certainly made you too reckless.

“So, is this a hint for me to leave?” Tom asked, pointing at the fireplace.

“No! I mean, it’s not. Are you planning on leaving?”

“I might go back home tonight,” he nodded.

“Already? Do you not like it here?”

A smirk crossed his face for a second. “Oh I do. I think I haven’t had a better night’s sleep anywhere, outside of Hogwarts.” He took a step closer. “If it wasn’t for the elf in the hallway, I’m sure it would have been even better.”

How would he also know about Tummy? Did he leave his room too? To prevent your mouth from hanging open, you bit your tongue and answered, “Father is overprotective.”

“Quite a shame.” 

“Certainly.”

The look on his face held something new, something previously unseen. Something that resembled banter or a cheeky joke between friends. It would not have been awkward at all if you had gone over to his room. Tummy be damned.

“Still,” he said. “I should go home to smooth things over before school starts again.”

“Of course. Before you go though, there’s something I want you to have. I thought of your present a lot. And I decided I had to get you something as well.”

“Not necessary. Your family let me stay the night, that’s more than en-”

“Stop it,” you snapped and went to get the parcel from under the table. “There’s not a lot of things I thought suited Tom Riddle. But this does, I believe.”

He took the box with both hands, placed it onto the desk and pulled off the top. “Oh.”

“Her name is Nagini. She’s not fully grown yet.”

Tom took a dark green, medium-sized snake out of the box and let it curl around his arm. 

“Did you know?” he asked.

“Know what?”

“That I’m a Parselmouth.”

“Yes,” you nodded. “People in Hogwarts were talking about it years ago and then I thought of your house and your relation to Salazar Slytherin. It made sense.”

“Thank you,” he said genuinely, looking into your eyes before he watched Nagini gliding from one arm to the other. “Stretch out your arm for me.”

You did and let your fingers touch his. Both of you now stood there with one arm pointing towards each other. The snake slithered around Tom’s arm, quickly making its way towards his outstretched fingers and over to yours. It hissed quietly while wandering up to your shoulder.

“She likes you,” Tom said softly. “A lot.”

Masterpost | Masterlist | Part 8

#tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle fluff #tom riddle angst #tom riddle AU #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #voldemort #voldemort x reader #hp #hp fanfiction #reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction #harry potter #imagine #imagines #fluff #angst #x reader

[ao719]

…Sometimes Not (Part 12)

It’s Always Been You

This is a submission for @choicesflashfics, using prompt # 1.

Title inspo: It’s Always Been You - Phil Wickham

A/N: This is an au mini series to my Always You story. Not beta’d. Please excuse any errors.  

Book/Pairing: TRR; Liam x OC (Reyna)

Rating: M • Warnings: mild nsfw … some lemon zest, if you will.

Word count: 2016

Catch up here

Reyna wasn’t supposed to arrive in Cordonia until later in the evening, but after days of poking and prodding from her aunt during their week-long trip to the mountains, wanting to know what was going on between her and Liam, she finally caved. She detailed Liam’s confession of how he felt, their last conversation and how she’d tried to tell him she felt the same but how he’d been so convinced she’d fallen out of love with him over the years that he wouldn’t let her say anything, and how she’d given him her journal that was filled with three years worth of letters to him expressing what he refused to let her say out loud.

Next thing Reyna knew, Aunt Elsie — who’d always been the biggest cheerleader when it came to the two of them being together — was on the phone with an old friend of hers, cashing in what she claimed was a long overdue favor to get her on an earlier flight, cutting their trip a bit short. 

When Reyna arrived in Cordonia that morning, she headed straight to the palace. The first person she ran into was Leo; he told her Liam wasn’t there, but that he was set to return that evening. She planned to wait for him, but Leo — who noticed his brother had been acting a bit oddly since his return from New York — knew Liam would probably enjoy the surprise, and insisted that she go to him; he pulled a guard aside and instructed him to take her to Valtoria. 

And now, here she was. 

Hovering in the doorway of the master suite inside the estate, Reyna stared at Liam; he was seated on the bed, hunched over with the palm of one hand pressed against his temple to prop his head up, shielding his face from her view. His other hand gripped the top of her journal to keep it open as he read what appeared to be the last page. 

Hearing his breath hitch, Reyna’s brows rounded in concern. “Liam?”

When he lifted his red-rimmed gaze and Reyna saw his tear-stained face, she felt her chest tighten as she took a tentative step over the threshold. His brows knit and more tears started to fall as he stared at her for a heartbeat, and in the next, he was standing and moving towards her. 

Liam’s arms wrapped tightly around Reyna and she instinctively returned the embrace; his wet cheek pressed against hers as he tightened his hold. His whole body was taut and his shoulders shook as he silently cried. 

“Liam …” 

“I’m sorry,” he choked out. “I should’ve listened. And I’m … I’m so sorry, Rey.” 

Reyna closed her eyes against the sting in them as he held her even tighter. She drew back just enough to look at him, needing to slightly arch because his hold on her wouldn’t loosen. Shifting her arms from around his neck, she cupped his face in her hands, gently brushing away the tears from his cheeks before they were replaced by more. She held his misty blue-eyed gaze for a moment as her own tears started to fall. “Now you understand,” she said, and his chin trembled as he nodded. “I never stopped loving you, Liam. Not for one single day.”

Hearing her words, Liam felt his heart — which was beating so hard in his chest he swore she could both hear and feel it — swell, and every heartachingly, longing-filled word he’d read in that journal filled his head again. All this time … the three years they were apart and even in the last year since they reunited … she had loved him through it all. 

With her hands still cupping his face, she tilted hers toward him. She brushed her thumb against his bottom lip before drawing him to her, closing the scant distance between them when she pressed her lips to his. He sighed into the kiss, tasting the salt from both their tears as an otherworldly force pulsed through him. 

It was like a long-missing piece had finally returned and locked itself into place right where it belonged. It felt like home — she felt like home. 

And for the first time in years, he felt whole. 

“I love you, Liam,” Reyna whispered against his lips; she barely got his name out before he kissed her again.

Hearing her say those three words again after so long awoke something inside Liam that he wasn’t sure he’d ever feel again. “I love you, too.” He kissed her again. “I’ve always loved you.” Another kiss. “And I always will.” 

Liam kissed her again, and when her lips parted against his, a rush of air escaped him and his body shuddered when his tongue met hers. Keeping his one arm wrapped tightly around her waist, his free hand came up, sliding across her cheek and into her hair until it curled around the nape of her neck as he deepened the kiss. It was all-consuming, stealing the very breath from his lungs. 

When Liam heard a whisper of a moan slip from her lips, something inside him snapped at the sound, his usual ability to keep himself controlled shredding at the seams. His hands dropped to the hem of her shirt and he was lifting it a heartbeat later, only breaking the kiss to pull it over her head, and as he did, she was tugging at his. He took the cue, reaching back with one hand to pull it off, and dropping it to the floor as his lips found hers again. 

Wrapping one arm around her, Liam spun her away from the door, swinging his other arm out and closing it before effortlessly lifting her; her legs wrapped around him as he carried her toward the bed.

There was a tangle of arms and hands as they stripped one another of their remaining clothing between passion-filled kisses and their hands exploring each newly exposed area of skin. 

With the rest of their clothes now strewn haphazardly on the floor, Liam finally drew back to take in her bare body beneath him. The years of painful longing — of wishing for just a single kiss, touch … even a mere word — came to a halt. He had no more reasons to wish, to yearn for her. She was there. They were together. And he knew it was going to be different because there was nothing standing in their way this time. 

It was going to last. 

It was going to be forever. 

Liam slowly skimmed a hand along the curve of her body, pausing on her thigh as his gaze shifted back up to hers. “Say it again,” he whispered. 

Reyna softly smiled. “I love you.” 

A breath fell from her lips as they parted when she felt Liam’s hand slip between them and a finger slide against her. When he felt how ready she was, an impatient groan escaped him; he had every intention of savoring every part of her later, but at that moment, he needed to feel all of her. 

In the next moment, Reyna gasped followed by a moan when she felt him filling her; Liam slowly pushed home inch by inch until he was buried to the hilt. He dropped his head to her shoulder as a moan rumbled from deep within his chest at the feeling of being wrapped around her again. 

Another moment later, Liam lifted his head when he felt her fingers lace with his, and his eyes searched hers as he began to move. “You’re mine,” he whispered with a thrust of his hips, the words spoken with a hint of question behind them. 

“I’m yours,” Reyna assured him. “I’ve always been yours, Liam.” 

Another moan escaped him, in part from her words, in part from the way she took him even deeper when her legs wrapped around him. He found her lips again with another thrust as her hands curled around his neck and into his hair. “I’ve only ever been yours,” he whispered. 

Liam drew out each stroke, prolonging the moment as long as he could until they were panting between impassioned kisses and moans, both on the edge of release. 

When he picked up his pace, Reyna clung to him, and Liam didn’t relent until her back arched off the bed and his name dripped from her lips in a mantra of breathy moans. He followed a moment later, a gravelly groan ripping from his throat and his entire body going taut as he dropped his head to the crook of her neck.

After several long moments, as they both still trembled and tried to catch their breath, Liam lifted his gaze to hers; Reyna brushed a few stray locks of his tousled hair away from his forehead before she lifted her head to press a soft kiss to it, then to the bridge of his nose, then to his lips. He returned the kiss, savoring the slow curl of her tongue against his. 

“I love you,” Liam whispered when they parted for a breath. “I love you so damn much, Rey.” 

A sated, heartwarming smile curled on Reyna’s lips. “I love you, too.” 

****

A while later, Liam and Reyna lay curled up in the bed; his arm was wrapped around her as he stroked his fingers idly along the length of her spine and their limbs were tangled beneath the sheets. Neither was in any rush to leave the other’s embrace. 

Liam’s gaze shifted down to where her head rested on his chest; her fingertip traced lazy shapes against his skin as she stared off, seemingly in deep thought. “What are you thinking about?”

“You,” Reyna answered with a sigh before tilting her head back to look at him. “You and this and … us.”

“What about it?” Liam asked as he gently swept a few wisps of hair off her cheek.

“How we’re going to make this work. Because I don’t …” Reyna dropped his gaze, biting her lip somewhat self-consciously. “I don’t want to be without you anymore, Liam. I want to be wherever you are.” 

Liam’s thumb scooped beneath her chin and tilted her gaze back to his. He searched her eyes for a moment before capturing her lips in his as he shifted, guiding her back against the mattress. He wanted that, too. After spending so long apart and knowing what he knew now after reading the letters inside that journal, he didn’t want to be without her. Not ever again. 

And he had but one thought at that moment. 

When he drew back, Liam’s thumb softly stroked her cheek, staring at her with nothing but unadulterated adoration. “Then marry me …” 

“What?” Reyna gasped as her eyes widened. “Liam, we … we just got back on track. Hell, we’ve only been on track for like … an hour.” 

“Rey … had the past gone differently, I have no doubts that I would have already taken that leap with you, but … things didn’t turn out that way. Yet, in all the time we were apart, nothing about our feelings — about the love we have for each other — changed. I don’t want to be without you either because we’ve spent long enough apart.” Liam was silent for a few moments as she took in his words. “You love me?”

“More than anything,” Reyna answered without hesitation.

“And I love you. That’s all that matters.” The pad of Liam’s thumb brushed over her lips. “I told you four years ago in Applewood that you were it for me, and those words are as true today as they were back then. It’s always been you and it will always be you. There is no one else I want to be with … to spend my life with … than you, Rey. And there never will be.” She took in a breath … and then smiled as she held his blue-eyed gaze. He smiled in return as he leaned down, grazing his lips against hers. “Say yes,” he whispered. “Say you’ll marry me …” 

***************************************

Perma Tags (if you’d like to be added or removed for this story, please let me know): @zaffrenotes @cocomaxley @emichelle @sweetest-marbear @indiacater @gibbles82 @the-soot-sprite @esmckenzie @dcbbw @burnsoslow @deb-1106 @bbrandy2002 @charlotteg234 @neotericthemis @foreverethereal123 @choiceskatie @sirbeepsalot @gnatbrain @openheart12 @sincerelyella @superharriet @queenrileyrose @aestheticartsx @kingliam2019 @indiana-jr @bascmve01 @rainbowsinthestorm @emkay512 @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @forallthatitsworth @walker7519 @iaminlovewithtrr @amandablink @mainstreetreader @mom2000aggie @princessleac1 @21-wishes @appleone @tessa-liam @pixelatedpassion @malblk21 @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @lovingchoices14 @nestledonthaveone @forthebrokenheartedthings @nomadics-stuff @differenttyphoonwerewolf 

#the royal romance #trr #choices the royal romance #choices trr #liam rys #king liam rys #liam x oc #trr liam x oc #choices liam x oc #king liam x oc #trr liam #king liam #trr fanfic #trr fanfiction #trr fan fic #trr au #trr au fanfic #choicesflashfics #cfwc fics of the week #slight ns*fw

[holdmytesseract]

Time To Get A Grip

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: After returning home from a nightshift and finding your boyfriend stoned on the sofa, you lose it. Given the fact that he becomes a father soon, it's time for him to finally get a grip.

Warnings: Major trigger warning here! swear words, mentions of alcohol, drugs and smoking, drug consumption, pregnancy things, drama, a fight, angst, bit of blood, fluff

Gotta rate this story 18+, just in case!

This takes places in the universe where Teddy exists and is pre apocalypse!

Word Count: 3,2k

a/n: You chose and I am here to deliver! 😁 Well... I had this idea - and wrote it. It fitted perfectly into Daryl's, Y/N's and Teddy's story, so... But it's also quite a bit heavy. I never wrote something like this before.

Special thanks to @fictive-sl0th for encouraging me and loving my Daryl fics! Love ya, friend! 💕

Also, I apologise to all the Merle fans. Sorry, guys! 🙈

Tagging: @km-ffluv @stitchintimefan @sweetpeapod @loz-3 @peaches1958 @fictive-sl0th @lou12346789 @fuseburner @hotgirlsshareaccounts @in-this-minute @eddiemunsonsupremecy @mrbrownstne

@iamlokisgloriouspurpose I'm just tagging you here in case you really like to read some of my Daryl stuff. You don't have to, of course. Just wanted to let you know. ☺️

Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

Releasing a big yawn; you closed the locker with the number thirteen painted on, and slipped the key - which was attached to a key ring, inside the pocket of your jeans. With a sigh you grabbed your bag and made your way towards the exit of the changing room. "By girls, see you on Monday!" You said goodbye to your coworkers; smiling. They bid their goodbyes as well; waving and smiling.

Taking a deep breath, you left the room and the big building behind yourself and stepped out on the streets of Gainesville; the bright morning sun almost blinding you.

Working as a nurse in a hospital wasn't always easy. Especially the night shift. But working as a nurse in a hospital at night, being almost eighteen weeks pregnant was even less easy - and so very exhausting. As soon as I'm five months in, I'm quitting this shit, you told yourself. Only day shifts from then on. The thing was, you told yourself that already from the start. From the very day you found out you were pregnant. It was a lie which repeated itself month after month. You knew that it wasn't good to work night shift after night shift. Not for you, nor for the baby. But you practically had no other chance. Being alive was expensive. Food was expensive. Having a roof over your head was expensive. Even if it was just a small apartment in one of the endless, old and quite ragged apartment blocks in downtown Gainesville. It was even more expensive, when you are the only one earning the needed money. And soon, you were going to have not only two mouths to feed, but three. Every day you hoped for a change to come - but it wasn't easy. Oh no.

You shook your head slightly and took another deep breath, in order to get yourself out of your thoughts and your sleepy brain to focus.

After you checked your surroundings, you crossed the front yard of the hospital and made your way to the bus station. All you wanted to do now was going home, crash on your bed and sleep at least until late afternoon. Your body wanted that as well. You knew that, of course. Hence, you had almost slept in on the bus and missed your stop! Luckily, your hazy brain reminded you to stand up in the last second.

Waiting until the bus rolled past you, you crossed the street and walked the last meters to the building in which your apartment was. It was just a few blocks down the road. At least the weather is nice today, you thought; looking up into the sky.

You unlocked the old main door, which led into the big staircase and started to climb the steps, leading up to the third floor. On your way, you met a familiar face - unfortunately. "Oh, good morning, Mrs. Jefferson."

Elsie Jefferson. The typical, critical bitter old lady next door, who everybody knew. Husband long dead and owner of at least ten cats. She was utterly nosy and curious about anything and everything. You couldn't stand her since the day she decided to interfere in your affairs. It was your life, not hers - but Mrs. Jefferson didn't care of course. And sometimes, you had the feeling that she did this all on purpose, because she liked you just as little.

"Ah, good morning, Y/N." She had just left her apartment; wearing those old slippers she always wore. A trash bag was in her hand. Apparently, she was just on her way to take out the trash - and you had the perfect timing to run straight into her. Great.

"Coming home from a night shift?" "Mhm, yep." You had absolutely no intention to talk to her, but you also couldn't be so rude to just walk away. The older woman shook her head. "Young lady, young lady... You should stop doing that. Now that you are pregnant." Not that again. "I know, but it's my decision. I'm okay with it. I'm used to it." Mrs. Jefferson shook her head again; rebukingly. You already wanted to walk past her; thinking that the conversation was over - but for her, it wasn't. You should've known. "Does your chaotic mess of a boyfriend still has no job?" You clenched your jaw. You hated it - absolutely hated it, when she brought Daryl up in those stupid conversations. All she wanted was to sting you and throw mud at him - just because he was how he was.

Gritting your jaw, you tried to smile at her. "He's at it." You didn't reveal more. While should you? "So no." She concluded, before stepping closer to you. "Chit... You should get rid of him." "I don't think so, ma'am. He's the father of my child." You tried to argue, but Mrs. Jefferson didn't even listen to you, just continued to speak ill of Daryl. "That man is not good for you and brings nothing but trouble. Just look at his messed-up family! His abusive, alcoholic father! His mother, who was a chain-smoker! And don't get me even started on his brother! Violence, alcohol, drugs... Wasn't he even in the prison only a few years back?" She exclaimed. "Daryl Dixon is toxic, Y/N - and way too old for you... Do you really think he's better than the rest of his family? Do you really think he can change? Turn into a better person?"

Hearing all those foul and judgemental words leaving the older lady's mouth, caused anger and sadness to flow your veins. How dare she? How dare? You had a hard time to keep yourself calm and not snap at her. The raging pregnancy hormones within your body didn't quite help the situation. Closing your eyes for a moment, you took a deep breath. "Yes, I believe exactly that. I love this man - and that's all that matters. Have a nice day, Mrs. Jefferson." With those words you walked past her; continuing to climb the stairs. But of course, she had one more bombshell to drop on you... "You should've never let him get yourself pregnant. Dixon isn't made to be a father." You ignored her and moved on; mumbling under your breath: "That's what mum said as well..."

You tried to calm yourself down on the rest of the way and erase what just happened from your memories. You didn't have the nerves to deal with that woman. Not today. Not after an exhausting night shift and three times of throwing up in the staff toilets - no.

You climbed the last few steps and headed straight for the quite rickety door, which led into yours - and somehow Daryl's apartment.

Relieved, you closed the door behind yourself. Finally at home. Thank god. Throwing your keys on the small shelf beside the main door, you took off your shoes and jacket. You didn't anticipated Daryl to be home. Not after he had told you Wednesday morning, that he'd go out with his brother. You knew exactly what 'go out' meant. But who were you to stop him? God knows you had tried. Several times. But well... Blood is thicker than water.

Given that fact, you were quite surprised, when you found him in the living room; passed out onto the couch. A smile crossed your face; knowing that he was here - but it faded quickly, when you noticed the condition he was in. Daryl was laying on his stomach; one arm dangling over the edge of the sofa. One sleeve of his yellow-black checkered shirt was ripped off, while the other was still intact. When you squatted down beside him, a wave of cold smoke hit you; coming undoubtedly from his clothes. Daryl's breathing was heavy; sweat dotted his face and presumably his whole body as you noticed further. Some dried, crusty blood was smeared across the skin underneath his nose - and you knew. You knew. You weren't blind. And a nurse. You could tell when somebody was stoned - or well, had been stoned.

It didn't happen often - luckily. It was already enough that Merle made him to consume alcohol way too often. Making him to take drugs was an entirely different story. And you hated Merle for it. Yes, he was strictly spoken family, but the impact he had on his little brother was way too big. The worst part of it was, that Daryl didn't even defend himself.

Seeing your boyfriend in this condition caused the anger, sadness and frustration you had just swallowed down to come up again. Twice as hard. You stood up and crossed your arms; looking down on him.

"Daryl. Wake up." No reaction. "Daryl." You nudged him softly with your knee, earning a low growl. Like already said... You didn't have the nerves to deal with shit like that today. "Daryl fucking Dixon!" You yelled then, causing the man to flinch and immediately wake up. "What the fuck do you think you're doing, huh?!" He groaned again and moved to sit up; pinching the bridge of his nose. His sweat soaked shirt on full display; short blonde-brown hair as messed up as it could be. "What'd ya mean, hon?" He slurred; still trying to wake up properly. "Oh no no, don't pull that card, Daryl. Don't 'hon' me. You know exactly what I'm talking about!"

Your boyfriend rubbed his face and ran a hand through his hair, before reddened eyes looked up to meet your Y/E/C ones. "Merle, uh, Merle's got this new, uh, dealer and-" "Forced you to try the 'good stuff', I know." You finished his sentence. "What was it." He didn't answer, just looked at the ground. "That wasn't a question, Daryl. It was a demand. Tell me." He still didn't talk. You stepped closer and rather harshly pushed his left shoulder. "Tell me! What did you snort?!" Daryl swallowed visibly; once again avoiding eye contact. "Jus' a bit Crystal Meth."

You gasped audibly; jaw dropping. "Crystal Meth? Crystal Meth?! Fucking hell, Daryl! That's one of the most dangerous drugs!" Sure, he wasn't stoned anymore, but undoubtedly dealing with the aftermath. And the drug caused his already quite short fuse to be even shorter. He was more irritable. You noticed. Therefore, he was quickly losing it. "Goddamn, woman! Calm down! It was jus' a little bit! I won't do it again!" He snapped - and you swallowed hard; already needing to suppress the tears. The drugs influenced Daryl and the hormones influenced you.

"I don't care if it was just a tiny bit! I don't care if you say you won't do it again, because you always break this promise! You'll do it again - and we both know it! You'll drink again. You'll smoke again. You'll toke again - and you'll take drugs again. Merle is bad for you! When do you finally realise that?!" "Nah, he's family, Y/N! He's the only one I got left!" You shook your head. He didn't even listen to a word you just said, did he? "That may be true, yes! But he's so far off track - and he's dragging you right with him! You could be so much, more, Daryl... But for that, you need to finally break free!" Your boyfriend clenched his hands into fists; was visibly angered as well. "I won't jus' leave Merle! Ya can't ask me to do tha'!" You frustratingly rolled your eyes. He really didn't understand. "I am not asking you to leave your brother! I told you again and again... I'm asking you to keep a healthy distance! Separate your life and his life! Stop acting so headless!" "'M not actin' headless!" You laughed almost maniacally at his ridiculous words. "Oh hell yes, you do! And you know it! Stop this! I need you to quit acting this way, because-" The anger coursing through your veins got suddenly replaced by fear and desperation.

"'Cause wha'?! Huh?! 'Cause what?!" Daryl's already not properly thinking brain thought even less logical as he spat out that question. "I don't know if it already slipped your notice, but..." You pulled the baggy t-shirt you wore aggressively down, causing the visible outlines of your baby bump to appear. "I'm fucking pregnant, Daryl! With your kid! You're going to be a father in not even six months! Do you even know what that means?! A child comes with great responsibilities! We are talking about a human being we need to look after! A baby isn't like a dog or a cat! I can't have you hanging somewhere around, drunk or stoned! That's reckless - and I thought you were aware of that. Apparently, I was wrong."

Daryl was unfortunately way too deep in his rage to understand. All he saw was red. Literally jumping up from the couch - his symptoms of the drug consumption forgotten for a moment, he took a few threatening steps closer, until he was hovering dangerously over you. "Well... Guess ya shoulda have listened to yer parents, girl... 'N dump me when ya still had the chance to. I told ya from the very beginnin' that this wouldn't work out. Us. This relationship was meant ta fail... But now's too late. Like ya said... Already knocked ya up with that bastard child."

You and Daryl had already quite a few fights in your relationship. That was normal and common. Hurtful and ugly words were sometimes exchanged - but he had never said something like this. It really hurt you. Deep. Despite the fact, that you knew that he probably didn't mean what he had just said. You knew that he was actually happy about this baby. Scared to death, but happy. But it hurt. So freaking much.

You just stared at him, while tears started to trickle down your cheeks. "Go." Your voice was merely above a whisper, but your eyes told Daryl enough to realise, what he had just done. "Y/N, I-" "Leave." "Y/N-" "I told you to go!" You yelled, pushing him away from you. "Get out of my sight, before I do something I might regret!" Daryl grunted and ripped the other sleeve of his shirt off, before he walked to the door; "Fine! If ya want me ta go, I'll go!" and slammed it shut behind himself. Mere seconds later, you broke down crying.

(DIVIDER)

You were exhausted. So utterly exhausted - and yet sleep didn't find you. You laid awake, hour after hour; thinking about what had happened - and the possible consequences of it. Your brain just couldn't shut up and so you spent the rest of the day and even night with just staring at the wall or ceiling and crying. Sure, you could sleep a few hours, but it was not peaceful and certainly not restful. Anyways... It was way too less sleep, given the fact that you had a night shift behind yourself and were pregnant. Needless to say, you couldn't be any happier about the fact that Sunday was your day off.

In the early morning hours, you heard the sound of your doorbell ringing. Cursing under your breath, you stood up and walked to the door. You had just been on the verge of dozing off again...

You already suspected that it was Mrs. Jefferson, one of your neighbours - or hence, even the postman, but you certainly didn't expect Daryl to stand in front of your door. Honestly, you expected anyone, but him. He never came back that fast after a fight. Never.

Well... Until now.

"Daryl?" You asked; totally stunned and also a bit confused. "What are you doing here?" He had both his hands stuffed into the pockets of his slightly ripped, grey jeans. A fresh tank top covered his body; not that ragged shirt anymore - and he had visibly showered. The man leaned against the door frame; biting his bottom lip nervously - a habit.

"I really fucked it up, didn't I?" "Yes. Yes, you did," you confirmed without even blinking. Daryl swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "'M sorry." You looked him in the eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. "You always say that. I always believe you. And you always fuck it up again." You paused; trying to find the right words. "I love you, Daryl - but honestly, I don't know how long I am able to play this game."  He swallowed hard; the harsh realisation of the possibility to lose you - and with that his child hitting him full force. "Y/N, I... I know. 'M an asshole. Always was. Most likely always going ta be. I don deserve you. And certainly not yer love - but please... Give me one last chance. Us." He sighed; desperately. Words weren't his strengths. "Fuck's sake, I can't live without ya. I need ya. You know that."

Now you were the one who had to swallow hard. Tears stung in your eyes; as you tried to figure out what to say. Yes, you were still angry at him for what he did - for what he said, but on the other hand... You loved this idiot so fucking much. Perhaps even too much for your own good. Not that you cared, though.

"Yes. And I need you, Daryl..." Your raging hormones caused your walls to break. "You're all I've got. I chose you above my family. I gave up my entire life for you. Please don't let this be for nothing. Please hold your promise this time." You choked out; tears staining the fabric of your sleep shirt. "Look for a job; get some distance between your life and Merle's life - and, for our child's sake, get a grip. There's not much time left for you to turn the tide." You took a shaky breath and cupped your baby bump. "I can't do this without you..."

Daryl nodded; his expression soft and full of love - and regret. "I know. I know." He stepped inside your apartment; closed the door and approached you, before he shyly - almost hesitantly placed his bigger hands on top of yours. "'M sorry. 'M so sorry. For what I did - 'n especially for what I said. I didn't mean it. I love that kid. Ya know I do. 'N I promise I'll try ta be a better man. For you and the baby."

You only nodded; unable to speak because of all the tears you shed. He leaned forward; pressed a kiss onto your forehead - and that was the moment you entirely caved. You threw your arms around his neck and hugged his body. Daryl accepted the hug, of course; placed both his hands on your hips and held you.

After a while, Daryl bent his knees and quickly swept you off your feet - much to your surprise, before he carried you into your bedroom. He set you down on the bed, quickly stripped off his top and jeans and joined you; wrapping you up in the tightest snuggle possible. It was almost like he sensed how tired and worn out you were. "Sleep, hon. 'M here. I won't go anywhere." You smiled tiredly up at him and couldn't resist the urge to kiss him. So, you did. "I love you." "I love ya, too."

#daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #twd #pre apocalypse!daryl dixon

[bigtittiecomitte]

Thinking about this dream I had last night

I was invited to a podcast with the Murder Drones voice actors and sometimes we would get breaks, I woke up from that and then I fell asleep again where I was in a train station? Or it was a bus station anyways I was getting home from the podcast even though it was the second break and I still had to go back (I think it was Elsie’s house)

But I chose not to go back because I had a sore stomach but I ordered Uber eats so I could eat when I got home, suddenly I closed my eyes and I was back in Elsie’s house (what I think her house looked like, not actually Elsie’s house lol)

That’s when I saw a commercial for Murder Drones on tv and in the end it played some scenes of the apparent episode 7 but it wasn’t actually episode 7 because they were wearing Christmas outfits and were in a work like space. The scenes were teasing Nuzi with them holding hands and blushing

Anyways the last scene of the commercial had N and Uzi making out (I mean FULL on making out, pinning Uzi to the wall and everything)

Thanks commercial you spoilt the Nuzi making out scene for me 🙄

That’s when I woke up, went on Twitter and tumblr for a bit because I was now thirsting for Nuzi content after that and went back to sleep

Back in my dream and I was in FUCKING JAIL?!? It kinda looked like the Roblox game, Prison Life

My little sisters were there and we decided to escape, it was like an obby lol we had to try not to die because the obstacles were deadly. That’s when on the way we stumbled across this paradise like place

You those movies where there’s a place that looks nice and the people are super nice but uh oh! They’re actually not and it’s a trap, yeah it was one of those

My little sisters immediately loved the place but I was skeptical, stayed for a bit then I remembered that I ordered Uber eats and my food would’ve been there by now so I grab my little sisters and try to leave but they wouldn’t allow us so I bit the leader

More chasing until eventually we made it home and low quality Pizza Hut was there and it tasted like garbage

Then I actually woke up

Crazy

#murder drones #n x uzi #nuzi

[antiquatedplumbobs]

~an excerpt from Violet Sewell's private journal~

Winter 1914

I think it's always a bittersweet day when a mother realizes her little girl is well on her way to becoming a young woman. We recently celebrated Elsie's twelfth birthday and I hate to admit it, I found myself getting quite misty eyed when letting down her skirts for what feels like the fourth time this year. She's closing in on me heightwise and I swear just last year she was only at my elbow. She's looking so grown up even if she's still in short skirts and pigtails. Her hair has recently darkened to more of an auburn than the fiery red of her father. It's almost a combination of his and my coloring now.

I made a special birthday supper for her; she loves fish and Will was able to purchase a beautiful carp in town so we had that fried up with some tomato preserve. The real showstopper was dessert though, I made a coconut cake - a flavor none of us had had before. I had seen the recipe in my Ladies Home Journal and when I came across the coconut at Greenfield's it just felt serendipitous. They're ugly things and quite hard to get open, but the aroma was very pleasant. The cake turned out lovely, I even caught Charlie licking his plate, a behavior I strictly admonished. As a birthday treat, I wouldn't let her help a whit with the cooking or clean up, even if she has become quite a hand in the kitchen.

She's grown into such a responsible young lady, I am quite proud of her really. She's always quick to help and is quite accomplished with her embroidery and knitting. She can be a bit fanciful at times, no doubt encouraged by all the fantastical stories my father tells her and Charlie; I haven't the heart to tell them they're all embellished to high heaven or just pure fiction. The faith of youth is such a special thing and all too soon the world will feel more real. Time certainly sneaks up on you, I recently came to the sobering realization that I was only six years older when I married Hamish. It seems of late more and more of the young ladies of Brindleton have been finding beau's from further afield, Britechester or even San Myshuno. I can only hope Elsie won't stray so far when she marries.

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

next / previous / first

#i have been waiting literal years to see what Elsie would look like #hazards of being slower than a snail unfortunately #BUT LOOK AT HOW CUTE SHE IS #ts4 decades challenge #decades challenge #sims 4 decades challenge #ts4 storytelling #sims 4 storytelling #sewell legacy #sewell legacy 1910s #elizabeth sewell #violet sewell #hamish sewell #charles sewell #sewell 1910s

[mk-writes-stuff]

Writing Share Game

Rules: share some writing!

Thanks for the tags @illarian-rambling @willtheweaver and @kaylinalexanderbooks! I’ve been putting this one off a bit because I haven’t been writing much but I don’t want to let the tags build up too much :). And the snippets I posted of this dialogue were apparently popular so here, Narcissus’s proposal to Belladonna:

The desserts were just being handed out when, to Belladonna’s surprise, her father himself got up and approached Narcissus’s table. Narcissus stood up sharply and stopped him, and Belladonna couldn’t tell what they were saying, but it was clear by the expression on Narcissus’s face that they were having an argument. Not a serious one – Narcissus would’ve thrown out anyone who dared to seriously disagree with him – but definitely an argument. At last, Narcissus waved a hand dismissively, and Belladonna’s father reluctantly returned to his seat as Narcissus pushed his clone off his lap and ascended to the stage on his six-inch heels.

“Greetings, one and all, I have an announcement to make!” said Narcissus brightly. The microphone had already been set up for him – he hadn’t even turned it on. It was clear he’d planned this long in advance – it was probably the reason for him hosting the party. “I’m pleased to have gathered you all here to make a wonderful announcement. I know it’s a long time coming, and no one ever expected it, but I am proud to announce that I will be marrying!”

Whispers broke out among the other nobles. Cassiopeia shot a curious glance at Belladonna, who looked back at her with a shrug. She hadn’t heard anything about this – she was just as curious who Narcissus was marrying as Cassiopeia was.

“I know, I know, it’s an unexpected development,” Narcissus continued. “Truth be told, I never expected I would find someone who was worthy of me, either. But I can assure you, I have at last found myself a suitable partner – you need not worry about my arrangements. I do apologize to all the women who will inevitably be heartbroken over this, but I’ve made my choice at last. I know our union will be a prosperous one, and I’m happy to assure my lovely new fiancée’s parents that they’ve made the correct choice.”

Narcissus smiled out over the crowd. “Lady Belladonna, I am happy to offer you the opportunity to be my wife.”

Belladonna stared at him. What? What? Her? She looked over at her parents at the next table in shock, but they were watching with approving expressions. They’d approved this, behind her back.

Narcissus? Why Narcissus? What was she supposed to- how- anything but him!

She could feel her heart pounding in her ears, and her head spun, and the world went black.

I hope y’all like it!

@elsie-writes @touloserlautrec @rkmoon want to play?

#writeblr #tag game #seven station chronicles

[friendly-neighborhood-boricua]

The Bookshop

Summary: Bouquet in hand, Sirius feels slightly more prepared to see her. A lot has happened in the last five years, and the two have a lot to catch up on.

Notes: Harry Potter universe, famous!AU, rockstar!Sirius x reader, oneshot; part two of The Linguist. Let me know if you like it! Part three coming soon ...

Part 1!

Fistfull of flowers collected and paid for, Sirius continued down the cobblestone alley, eyes peeled for his destination. He had visited Teliska & Rook’s Rare Books once before, when Y/N had first acquired a job at the small shop, but unfortunately hadn’t had the chance to revisit the cozy corner of Paris since. 

Sirius’s heart stuttered for a moment as he rounded another corner and spotted the bookshop; the sign’s gold lettering was crisp as ever despite the faded evergreen color surrounding it and the bay windows framing the tall oak door could probably do with some dusting, but otherwise, the shop was just as Sirius remembered it. He squinted at himself in the reflection of a bakery window, fixing his hair and rolling his shoulders back to fix his posture, holding the bouquet tightly in his left hand. With a breath that Sirius hoped sounded more confident than he felt, he made his way to Teliska & Rook’s Rare Books.

The heavy door opened with a groaning creak and the light tinkling of bells, and Sirius was immediately hit with the scent of old books. He nearly sneezed as a cloud of dust furled up from the ground, rubbing his nose furiously to rid himself of the feeling. 

Once he had recovered his bearings enough to look around, Sirius was surprised at the familiarity of everything. The shop was organized in the same manner it had been nearly five years ago, with one corner designated to modern reads, another serving as home to a cluttered cedar desk where patrons could check out, and the rest of the small building crammed full of bookshelves that reached from floor to ceiling. 

Closing the door behind him, Sirius tentatively stepped into the shop, which seemed alarmingly empty, and peered around. Truthfully, it seemed as if no one had stepped foot in the place in years. Sirius peered down one aisle of bookshelves, then another, until his eye caught on a familiar spine. Twelfth Night. Y/N’s favorite. She always found the classics a bit ridiculous, as her Muggle mother had made her read them all when she was of age, but Twelfth Night was “far too funny not to like”.

Sirius’s lips quirked up into a little grin, and he slid the volume off the shelf, opening it to a random page. To his mild surprise, this edition came with illustrations, though, upon closer inspection, Sirius guessed it wasn’t bought that way. Its previous owner seemed to have doodled the scenes in the margins, turning the book itself into a piece of art.

“Sérieux Noir?” An elderly man—Teliska of Teliska & Rook, if Sirius’ memory served him right—peered around the corner of the aisle in which Sirius stood, wide eyes magnified by Coke bottle glasses. “Sérieux, c’est toi?”

Sirius grinned. The man was very French and never could grasp that his name was ‘Sirius Black’ rather than ‘serious black’. 

“Oui, Monsieur. It’s been a while.”

“So it has, mon fils, so it has!” The lean man hobbled down the aisle towards Sirius, squeezing his shoulder with a falcon’s grip once he was within range. He looked to the bouquet in Sirius’ hand. “I assume you’re looking for our Y/N?”

Sirius smiled subconsciously. “Yes, I was.”

Teliska smiled knowingly. “She’s in the back. Elsie’s been getting sicker lately, so Y/N’s been drowning herself in work. You know how she gets.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Sirius said as the old man guided him down an aisle, then down another towards the back of the shop. “Tell Ms. Rook I send my love.”

Teliska peered at Sirius, magnified eyes holding a grave sort of look, but nodded nonetheless. “I will.” The odd pair stopped at a plain oak door with a brass knob tucked away in the furthest recess of the bookshop, and Sirius’ palms began to sweat. He wiped them hastily on his trousers, exchanging the bouquet from one hand to the other. “She’s just through there. Working on repairing some ancient tome for the Sorbonne. They’re working her to the bone these days—far too much for what they’re paying her  …” 

Teliska muttered on as he hobbled back towards the front of the shop, and Sirius watched the old man’s thin frame as he went, silently begging him to turn around, come back so he could put off the meeting he knew awaited him beyond the oak door with the brass knob. 

But the old man was out of sight soon enough, and Sirius was once again alone in the bookshop, surrounded by books and dust and everything Y/N loved. He faced the oak door again and bit the inside of his cheek. Why was he so nervous? He and Y/N were never really together, so why did he feel bad? What did he even feel bad for?

Sirius huffed out a sharp sigh and forced himself not to think. Just open the door. Open it. And he did. 

If the rest of Teliska & Rook’s was dusty and crammed with books, the back office hadn’t been dusted since the store’s opening and had to be waded through due to the sheer volume of books piled on the floor, in cabinets, on shelves and countertops—any and every square inch of would-be free space was occupied by a book. This time, Sirius did indeed sneeze when he was hit with a waft of dust, cringing immediately after at the harsh disruption to the otherwise silent back office. 

Shutting the creaky oak door as gently as possible, Sirius blinked several times at the maze of stacked books that lay between himself and where he knew Y/N’s desk resided. He was a relatively thin and quite well-built young man, but these narrow, precariously constructed corridors of books weren’t exactly something he had expertise in navigating. Nevertheless, Sirius would try. 

Each step was made with bated breath as Sirius expected any second for half the books in the room to come crumbling down around him, and each time they didn’t was a small miracle. He snuck about the back office for several minutes, trying to find his way towards Y/N’s desk until finally, he came upon a small clearing in the paper forest.

Y/N sat hunched over her desk, eyes focused on the ancient, half-rotted book in front of her as she traced line after line with a latex-clad finger. Sirius found himself unable to move for several moments, simply watching the young woman read through the ancient text, scribbling away what he assumed was the translation without so much as looking at her hand. 

It was only when Y/N’s focus switched from the ancient text to her own notes that she noticed a pair of black combat boots planted at the mouth of the book maze, and her head whipped up to look at the intruder. Sirius and Y/N simply stared at each other for several minutes, Sirius anxiously awaiting Y/N’s reaction to his presence, before Y/N’s shoulders dropped, and the corners of her mouth drew barely upwards.

“Sirius.”

Sirius took the fact that she didn’t seem to despise his very presence as a good sign. “Hi,” he said, and immediately regretted sounding so dense. “I—I brought you these,” he said hastily, an even poorer attempt to rescue the conversation from its already awkward start, and thrust the fistfull of flowers out at Y/N, who huffed out a small giggle. 

“Oh, thank you,” she said simply, rummaging around her desk until she found a small drinking glass filled with water that was probably a day old. She took the flowers from Sirius’s hand—Sirius was struggling more than he had anticipated to keep from hugging the living daylights out of her—and placed them in the makeshift vase before turning back to him. The two stood awkwardly across the small office from each other, the books keeping them from maintaining any real personal space, and Y/N coughed lightly. 

“Can I … can I give you a hug?” 

Sirius blinked dumbly. 

“Ye—of—yeah! Yeah, of course—! Of course.”

Y/N smiled, and the two met in the middle, embracing each other tightly. Sirius sighed into her hair, nose pressed into the crown of her head, and felt his heartbeat calm. They were fine. There was no need to worry—though his throat did swell up slightly when thin fingers found their way over his shoulders and towards the top of his spine. 

Sooner than Sirius would have liked, Y/N pulled away, gazing up at him with a lovely look in her eyes. Now that he had a good look, Sirius began to notice the little changes Y/N had taken on over the years: her hair was, oddly, shorter, as well as choppy, as if she had cut it herself; her eyes were lighter from the sun; the skin at the outer points of her eyes just barely hinted at crows feet. 

“It’s good to see you, Sirius,” Y/N said, lips closing around her beaming smile. 

“It’s good to see you, too,” Sirius said, much more softly than he had wanted as Y/N stepped out of his arms and resumed her spot at her desk.

“How’s your tour going so far?” she asked as Sirius found a wooden stool and dragged it up to the desk’s side. 

“You know about that?” he said, a sudden pressure in his chest beginning. 

Y/N’s brows furrowed. “Sirius, I know I spend all my time on the other end of a book maze—” she motioned to the mass of books he had traversed, “—but I don’t live under a rock.”

Sirius laughed, an embarrassed blush descending on his ears. “Right, right. I mean, I don’t like to assume. You never know.” Y/N nodded in understanding. “But it’s going well. Yeah, it’s fun. Remus has been working on something he won’t show the rest of us—we all think he’s seeing someone on the side—James is finally getting somewhere with Lily—”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Sirius chuckled. “It’s a miracle, truly. We’re all amazed. And … did you hear about the whole deal with Peter?”

Y/N nodded, and Sirius was thankful there was minimal pity in her expression—though there was something he couldn’t quite identify. “How are you all doing after that?”

“Eh, as good as can be expected,” Sirius said with a shrug. “Dorcas’s been on drums for us ever since. She and Marlene are still going strong.”

“Of course they are,” Y/N said with a hint of pride. “The relationships I put together always last.”

Sirius laughed lightly, eyes drifting through the room without really seeing before they landed again on Y/N. 

“And what about you? How’ve you been fairing?”

Y/N shrugged. “Ah, you know, the usual. Helping around the shop, doing some freelance work for the Sorbonne.”

“Mr. Teliska said something about how they don’t pay you enough,” Sirius mentioned, eyeing her with brows raised, and Y/N sighed, irritated. 

“Okay, listen,” she started, and Sirius laughed. 

“Had this conversation a lot now, have you?” he said, and Y/N rolled her eyes. 

“You’ve no idea.” Once Sirius’s giggling subsided, she continued. 

“Ivan thinks that because I’m basically doing research for the Sorbonne, I should be paid as much as a researcher—that I should be paid a salary—but, as I’ve explained to him countless times,”—Sirius began to laugh once again—“I simply don’t have the level of education that the Sorbonne is looking for in their faculty and therefore can’t be paid a faculty salary. I simply don’t have the financial means to go to school again.”

Sirius’ laughter had barely subsided when Y/N was finished, and he nodded understandingly. 

“You know, I could always just give you the money,” he suggested.

Sirius had never heard Y/N laugh so hard in his life. He laughed as well, though to a much lesser extent as he watched her hair bounce through peals of giggles.

“Oh please, Sirius,” Y/N said, delicately wiping a tear from her eye. “That’s absolutely ridiculous.”

“No it’s not.”

“Yes it is,” Y/N insisted, letting out an incredulous breath. “Sirius, I am absolutely not going to take money from you. And I don’t have to work at the Sorbonne anyway. I’m getting by just fine with what I’ve got.”

“Y/N, life isn’t about getting by, it’s about enjoying yourself,” Sirius said, and Y/N shook her head. “Love, you can’t expect me to not try to help you when I’ve got the means to.” The pet name slipped without Sirius’s permission, but he stood his ground as Y/N sunk further into her chair. He knew her well; at the beginning of their friendship, she would have insisted on refusing, and he would have asked if she would do the same in his position, and she would go silent, and Sirius would have won. But Y/N was the smartest person Sirius knew. She didn’t need to go through the whole conversation to know what would be said.

But Y/N’s mildly defeated look made Sirius’s mind itch uncomfortably; he didn’t want to make the rest of this visit awkward or weird in any way.

“Have you eaten today?” he asked, commandeering the conversation away from whatever it was before. Y/N peered up at him, biting her cheek.

“I had a coffee this morning,” she mumbled, and Sirius’s face fell into a disapproving frown. 

“Merlin’s beard, Y/N.”

“Do you want to get lunch?”

“Will you eat something if we go get lunch?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s get lunch.”

Y/N nodded and the two stood, Y/N finding a thin jacket and Sirius standing at the mouth of the book maze as he watched her pack her purse. 

“Ready?” she asked, throwing the strap over her head. Sirius simply nodded, and Y/N drew her wand from her pocket. With a simple wave of the thing, the books blocking the floor between the two and the door flew into the air, some stacking onto other already-precarious piles and others floating close to the ceiling, creating a sort of paper-and-ink trellis under which Y/N walked. Once at the door, Y/N peered back at Sirius, who was looking at the floating books, jaw hanging open. 

“Why didn’t I think of that?”

#sirius #sirius black #sirius black fluff #sirius black imagine #sirius black x reader #sirius black x y/n #famous!sirius #famous!sirius black #famous!sirius black fluff #famous!sirius black imagine #famous!sirius black x reader #famous!sirius black x y/n #sirius x reader #sirius x y/n #rockstar!sirius #rockstar!sirius black #rockstar!sirius black fluff #rockstar!sirius black imagine #rockstar!sirius black x reader #rockstar!sirius black x y/n #rockstar!sirius fluff #rockstar!sirius imagine #rockstar!sirius x reader #rockstar!sirius x y/n #marauders #marauders fluff #sirius x you #sirius black x you #famous!sirius x you #famous!sirius black x you

[i-have-not-slept]

Less than a week til Chain of Thorns is released!

To keep myself entertained I’ve decided to examine and review the official character art by @nicole.deal.art on Instagram to see if the clothing fits with the Edwardian period. I’ve always been interested in historical fashion and I thought this might be fun and interesting for people to read. I’m reviewing the girls’ outfits first and the boys later in the week.

Cordelia

We’re off to a good start with Cordelia! She’s wearing what looks like a very period-typical walking dress. Compare it to this one from 1903:

Most day dresses had high collars and long sleeves, so this looks good. My only quibble is that her hair should really be pinned up, but since this picture is obviously set during a fight it’s entirely possible that her hair just came loose. It’s not a major issue.

Accuracy: 8/10

Lucie

Also pretty good! Hair looks great, compare it to the Edwardian hairstyles below:

and the cut of the dress is period accurate. I wasn’t sure at first if puffed sleeves were a thing for the Edwardians, but then I found this dress, also from 1903:

which has very similar sleeves.

The only non-Edwardian thing is the steampunk collar-type thing she’s wearing, but that could be part of Shadowhunter protective armour.

Accuracy: 9/10

Ariadne/Kamala

This one’s not quite so accurate. Her hair is perfect— in fact, the headband looks like it was directly inspired by this picture of actress Lily Elsie from 1908:

The dress, however, is more Victorian than Edwardian. It has a very square neckline, which wasn’t common during the period— day dresses generally had high collars, and evening dresses had wide, scooped necklines, often draped.

The skirt isn’t quite accurate either. It looks like she’s wearing an apron skirt with a bustle, which is a style that was popular in the mid-to-late 1880s, around fifteen years before The Last Hours is set. Compare it to this one from 1889:

and you’ll see that the draping in front is very similar. It’s a lovely dress, but it’s not at all Edwardian.

Accuracy: 4/10

Grace

When I first saw this one I was disappointed because it looked like a major historical blunder. Her hair is good, but the dress isn’t Edwardian at all— the neckline is too low, sleeves are too puffed, waistline is too high.

BUT THEN. I did some digging and found this dress from 1810:

Grace’s dress is very obviously inspired by this one. The two are almost identical. But it’s such an obviously Regency dress that I don’t think Grace’s dress is meant to represent the Edwardian era at all.

TLH isn’t set during the Regency era, but who lived around that time and is relevant to the plot in Chain of Thorns?

Annabel Blackthorn.

Grace is a Blackthorn, at least by adoption. We know that at the end of Chain of Iron, Malcolm wanted to use Lucie’s powers to resurrect Annabel. My theory is that this art shows Grace in a situation where she’s linked to Annabel somehow, maybe through time travel or a dream or vision. She’s wearing similar clothes to what Annabel wore when she was alive, and I am so excited to see if this really does happen in ChoT.

Accuracy: 3/10 for Edwardian, but 10/10 for Regency.

If you bothered to read all this, I hope you found it interesting and maybe even a bit informative. Can’t wait for Chain of Thorns!

Image sources: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Boston Museum of Fine Arts, Brooklyn Museum, House of Worth Archives, Manchester Art Gallery.

#chain of thorns #chot #the last hours #tlh #cordelia carstairs #lucie herondale #ariadne bridgestock #kamala joshi #grace blackthorn #cassandra clare #the last hours art #tsc #the shadowhunter chronicles #edwardian #fashion history #fashion #history #my ramblings

[okskz]

Break pt.2

elsy + chan

things aren’t looking good between the two and they only get worse from there.

first post of the year! hope you guys enjoy, and please feel free to leave some feedback because it is always appreciated. still not sure how long this series will be. also, requests are OPEN!

[8th member of got7/soloist]

it had been a couple of weeks since the argument between chan and elsy. not one of them took the time to fix things, or even check up on each other. elsy felt chan was the one who needed to message first since she felt he was the cause of their argument. which is why she started to get more upset with him for not trying to call or message her. chan didn’t even try to fix things after she stormed off that day.

was this the end?

elsy most definitely didn’t want her relationship with chan to end. she loved him, he was her first real love and relationship and this was just the thing she was scared of the most. and probably the main reason she was ever scared of getting into a relationship. she didn’t want to lose chan again.

but elsy kept telling herself that this was just a rough patch that couples go through. no relationship was perfect, but she definitely thought her’s and chan’s was. maybe things will go back to normal soon, she thought.

now, the girl was sitting on her couch along with jaebeom as the two watched a movie together. elsy had told jaebeom everything between the couple. with jinyoung being away, she couldn’t go to him like she always did.

“he still loves me right?”

jaebeom rolled his eyes as he took a sip of his beer. he had heard the same question over and over again. “elsy, of course he does.” he answered once again. trying to sound more reassuring. “you guys just had a little discourse, it happens to a lot of relationships.”

“it’s just he hasn’t messaged or call-“

“he’s probably just getting his thoughts together. and when he does, he’ll come looking for you.”

“but does it really take more than a couple of days?”

“he seems very busy in group activities, els.”

elsy sighed as she threw her head back against her couch. all she could think about was chan. “maybe he doesn’t know how to balance being in a relationship and his job. the group got busier than ever.” jaebeom said.

and that he was right, which is why elsy felt a little bad for lashing out on chan for doing his work. elsy knew how much chan loved making new music, but she also was getting tired of constantly having to only be in the studio with him to spend time with him.

his words still replayed in elsy’s head. the girl still felt some type of way with chan’s words. the last thing she wanted was to feel like she was a distraction to chan or going in between him and his work. but hearing it come from chan himself made her think it was becoming true.

it also felt like a slap in the face when he mentioned that he was actually doing something with music unlike her. especially when chan knew the reason why she took a pause in making music.

elsy let out a sigh and jaebeom turned his attention to her. “it’ll be okay, els.” he reassured her again. “he’ll come around.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“when am I ever wrong?” jaebeom let out a chuckle, trying to lighten up the mood. as he took another sip of his beer, elsy snorted and pushed the beer bottle more up, causing the beverage to spill out and go onto jaebeom’s shirt. “oops!”

“damnit, jiyeon!” jaebeom groaned. “now my shirt is ruined.”

elsy continued to laugh. “sorry about that, if you want, you can put it in the washer and then dryer.”

that he did. jaebeom was quick to stand up and take his shirt off to put it in elsy’s washer. and as he was doing that, elsy heard her bell ring and quickly stood up to open her door.

she tugged down her oversized tee, “bang chan?”

“hi, els.” he bit the inside of his lip. “may I come in-“

“who’s here jiyeon?” jaebeom said as he entered back into the living room. the door was open wide enough for chan to see jaebeom behind elsy. his eyes wandered to jaebeom being shirtless and the oversized tee elsy had on.

“it’s bang chan.” she answered. “yes, you can come in.”

chan was a bit hesitant but did either way. jaebeom greeted chan with a smile but only chan greeted jaebeom with a half smile. elsy already knew something was bothering chan.

“I’ll leave you two alone.” jaebeom said as he walked away, going into elsy’s spare room.

“if I’d had known you had company I wouldn’t have stopped by.”

“well, you haven’t messaged me so of course you wouldn’t have known.” elsy said. there was a bit of annoyance in the tone of her voice, and chan quickly noticed it.

“you haven’t either.” chan replied.

“sorry, didn’t want to be more of a distraction to you.” elsy said blankly. “you know, since you have work to do and I don’t.” she repeated the words chan said towards her.

“lee jiyeon, you know that’s not what I meant!” elsy flinched from his sudden outburst.

“you still said it though, bang chan!” elsy yelled back. “so obviously it had to have meant something!”

“no, elsy. no, not at all!” chan exclaimed. “I just meant it as in I didn’t need any distractions at that moment- because I needed to finish-“

“so I am a distraction to you.” elsy snapped. “I just wanted one day! one day for us to actually be a couple and do other things, all we do is sit around in the studio as you work and I’m just there. bang chan, that’s not a date, that’s not anything! I don’t want to always do that, I just wanted for us to go back to how we did things, us going out!”

“elsy, I just can’t do those things at the moment, my schedule has been all over the place-“

“when my schedules were busy, I still made time for you. listen, if you’re not here to apologize chan, then I think you should go. because I cannot deal with another argument with you.” elsy felt her eyes getting watery.

but chan got more annoyed. “why are trying to kick me out so quickly?” chan arched an eyebrow. “something going on between you two that you don’t want me to know about?”

elsy was taken back from chan’s words, becoming confused to say the least as she stared at chan. “what?” she snapped. “and what the hell do you mean by that?” the girl was at lost for words.

chan swallowed hard, “you know what I mean.”

“are you implying that I’m cheating on you?! as if I’d ever sleep with jaebeom, chris. he’s my group member-“

“you did it with jinyoung, so it’s a little hard to believe you wouldn’t.”

chan couldn’t stop the words from coming out. elsy let out the biggest gasp ever that even jaebeom could hear. the tension was thick. elsy felt like she had gotten stabbed in the back. what’s worse was that it was chan who made her feel that way. she couldn’t believe chan had the nerve to say that to her.

“fuck you, bang chan.”

elsy’s eyes became more watery and chan’s mood had instantly changed in regret. “el-“

“no, fuck you!” she yelled. “fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!” she continued to say as she pushed chan back, tears falling down her face. chan grabbed elsy’s arms to stop her from pushing his chest. “you out of all people.” she cried. “you know how I got treated and you know what people said about me! only for you to be like the rest of them, and think of me like that. fuck you!”

“get out.” elsy snapped. “get out of my home. I don’t want to see you.” the girl went to open her apartment door, leading chan out.

“elsy-“

elsy shook her head, telling chan one last thing before she shut the door on his face.

“we’re done.”

#stray kids au #kpop oc #kpop oc au #got7 masterlist #got7 fanfics #got7 imagines #got7 angst #got7 fluff #got7 scenarios #got7 fanfic #got7 au #got7 jayb #got7 8th member au #got7 8th member #kpop imagines #kpop au #kpop female oc au #kpop female addition #female addition #female idol oc #kpop idol oc #kpop female oc #bang chan au

[vani-candy]

After a number of personal tragedies, a young woman named Mitty leaves her home in Highwind to properly kickstart her career as a Builder in Sandrock. While she's still unsure of herself and hampered by her low self-esteem, she begins to find true happiness again as she meets the people around her. Someone who catches her eye in particular is the town's only doctor, Fang, a young man who seems just as lost as she is, if not more so. Feeling he needs companionship more than anything, Mitty vows to bring happiness to his life, little by little. However, she won't be able to suppress her growing feelings for him forever...

Swan's Treasure is my ridiculously ambitious blatantly self-indulgent personal fancomic series for My Time at Sandrock starring Fang and my OC, Mitty. I very much simply make this for fun, but this series grew much bigger than I was expecting, so I decided to make this index page to make it easier to navigate to each comic, especially since they're becoming less and less self-contained as I continue!

It is highly, highly recommended that you have played My Time at Sandrock before reading, as it is necessary to better understand the characters and story more. (I will die if i try to adapt every last piece of lore in the game, lol). That, and it is genuinely a fun game and I highly recommend it if you enjoy crafting sims + RPGs + both! As such, these comics will contain major spoilers for the game, so proceed with caution!

I may hop around to tackle story beats I may have missed or skipped over, so these are listed in chronological order.

Pushing Forward [part 1] [part 2] - Mitty leaves Highwind and moves to Sandrock to begin her career. She meets and makes several new friends, including the town's only doctor...

Earrings and Diagrams - Mitty continues to work for the people in Sandrock, which leads to her crossing paths with Fang again when X steals her earrings to try to impress CoCo.

Cheery Picnic - With some ideas from X, Mitty and Arvio invite Fang to a picnic to get to know him better. (The one that started it all!)

Mapo Tofu Weekend - After she and Fang get into a bit of an argument during a sandstorm, Mitty’s convinced he won’t want to see her again, so she’s surprised when he visits her and asks her to try the Mapo Tofu he made for her.

A PSA in Overwork (And Also Interfacing With Your Bestie's Boss) - Mi-an faints due to overwork and is ordered to take a week off by Fang. Yan uses the opportunity to shove all the commission work onto Mitty.

Doctor's Orders, Don't Interfere - A short follow up comic to A PSA in Overwork, Mitty and Fang go for a walk on a particularly hot day.

Shiny Hunting - In an effort to get them together, X and CoCo go out looking for jewels for Fang and Mitty. Things go downhill from there.

Season 2 Episode 36a Graveyard Shift - At Mort’s request, Mitty helps Fang tidy up the cemetery.

I Still Love You, Even Though I Miss You - Fang and Mitty spend the Day of Memories festival together and talk about their passed loved ones.

I’d Love More Dress Options - Fang wants to gift Mitty something, but doesn’t know what.

Painful Memory - A certain bandit attack in Sandrock triggers a harsh memory for Mitty.

She Clearly Feels Better, Doctor - A short follow up comic to Painful Memory, Mitty finishes sewing her new work outfit and shows it to Fang.

The Validity Test - Mitty gets a surprise visit from Nia. However, she seems pretty suspicious of Fang...

Regrets That Don't Disappear - Elsie asks Mitty to ask Fang about the incident that led to Logan becoming a bandit, but he won't say a word, even to her...

Bird Cage - Mitty tries to check up on Fang after their last meeting, but he seems to be doing even worse than before...

Things Changed While You Were Gone - Trudy comes back to Sandrock, noticing something has changed while she was away.

Don't Lose Your Patience - Fang listens in on a fireside meeting that quickly goes south.

Mahjong Break - Fang goes to check up on Mitty and gets roped into a Mahjong match at the Game Center.

[iciatheguardess]

Hiiii it’s meeee elsie

conflicted Elsie

Look, you know as well as I do that I love TAOCC to freaking death

but like

I may have to partially step away from it after the current arcs are over.

these goofy goobers took over my life for the last three-ish months, and while I’ve had an amazing time, it’s…caused me to neglect other parts of my life, and restrict myself more than I should when it comes to how I am on this site. I’ve stated my intention to try and branch out multiple times but I never go through with it because I just…I have things to write here! I can’t! And yeah it’s fun but sometimes I get hurt even if people don’t mean to, like, I’ve gotten legitimately ill from this once or twice.

But I feel like even trying to step away a bit is somehow abandoning all of you or betraying your trusts. I want to stay friends with you guys, but my actual life and Irlsie has to come first most of the time, because I am not JUST Elsie, if that makes any sense. Elsewhere is and was always meant to be a sona for some interaction, maybe some friendos, but nothing this…involved, because I can’t put all of my social effort onto the internet because no matter what I do, the internet is not a completely genuine place, and I’ve accepted that. There are some parts of my personality I just don’t use. You don’t really ever see calm Elsie or mental illness Elsie or sappy Elsie, maybe once or twice, and that’s intentional. This is Writing Elsie’s blog, lol, but there’s other Elsie that needs to be allowed to exist outside of the internet, and I can’t neglect her or my actual life for the sake of this.

I honestly don’t know what to do here. I love these characters on a very personal level, and have poured my heart into them, and I don’t want to straight up leave them. Even only partially separating myself seems kinda pointless because I know what happens when someone gets really behind on the lore and has to be caught up on even just a day’s events to explain why Character A looks like this now or Character B is referencing this event, etc. etc.

But there’s a point where it’s not healthy anymore. Where things reach a place where I have to admit that this can’t be my entire life anymore. And I’m not entirely sure what on earth I should do about it…

If I do somewhat step back, it’ll probably be right after the vacation arc ends. i’m gonna pour my fluff loving heart and soul into that thing, don’t you worry. But you shouldn’t expect another dungeon or something like that from me unless I have a VERY good reason and a well formulated plan. Yes, I’ll probably still engage in shippery and fluff, as well as analysis, but mostly within the bounds of characters and dynamics we’ve already established, and not much farther than that. My one exception to the “after the vacation arc” rule would probably be Yelena’s arc, because of how long things in that section tend to take, for various reasons. Yelena’s arc is barely started, and stuff takes possibly days to move even a few hours in-universe. Sooooo….yeah, I wanna finish that, I’ve put too much work into it already to just stop it.

…dang this was only supposed to be a paragraph…

…pls halp, I have no idea what to do lol.

Ok. I've read over this a couple times.

First off, I'm talking to you as L here, and not Star. I am very, very proud of you for acknowledging this and understanding that this is getting unhealthy. I think it's very smart that you dont want to neglect your yourself irl and the fact you're saying this, and saying exactly what you'll be doing, I'm really proud of it.

To give you a clear answer, if it's going to help you irl then I think stepping back is smart. Especially from the trauma and angst, because that stuff hurts a LOT and it can be really, really detrimental and negatively affect irl things. What I DONT think is that it's betraying anyone. You need to be able to put yourself and your needs first in order to be your best self, and everyone understands that you can't be on tumblr 24/7 because, well, that's really really really really unhealthy and not good. I'm really glad you're telling me about this though so I, and everyone else who sees this, knows.

TAOCC is really great but there's a LOT of heavy things on here and with everything going on, it can be super weighing and really affect people irl. I can speak from experience because honestly, I'm in a similar situation. I won't speak much about that though. It's definitely addictive and can get really really unhealthy if you let it, and honestly it's not hard to let it.

I want you to do whatever you feel is best for you, no matter what that entails. Fei and Tails and Xeya and Kumo and so many others and I love you so much and do NOT want you neglecting yourself and your life irl for this- it's meant to be entertainment, not a lifestyle.

I think it's smart to finish Yelena's Arc before partially stepping back. And I think it's even smarter to not want to do another dungeon, because that whole thing was a massive angst-fest and I think it negatively affected people more than they care to admit. Shippery and fluff and minor things is a good boundary.

I'll wrap this up now, but again, I'm in full support of this decision because I want you to be at your best. You're right, you're not just Elsie. And it's not fair for you to only be Elsie when you're so much more than that. If stepping away from tumblr will help you take care of the other parts of your life that we aren't involved in or aware of, then please do so because no part of you and your life should be sacrificed for the sake of entertainment.

Again, I'm really, really proud of you for admitting this.

Please know we'll always support you and you're super important to all of us, so don't ever feel bad for putting your needs first. Irl things should always come first.

But no matter what always remember:

WE LOVE YOU SO SO SO MUCH AND YOURE SUPER IMPORTANT AND WE WANT THE BEST FOR YOUUU ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Everything I said is applicable for everyone else reading this too. Taocc is fantastic and we love it but it shouldn't completely take over your life. It's okay to take a break or step back fully if it means the best for your health and irl life. Please remember to take care of yourselves- and everything that Elsie talked about here is FANTASTIC self care. It may be hard, but it's also the best decision she can make for herself and may be the best decision for others too.

Alright- I think I covered everything. Don't ever feel like you're betraying us Elsie- it's not betrayal, it's self care. We'll still be here for you, always. Never forget that ❤️❤️❤️

#iceanswers #modstar

[fortisfilia]

Promised Part 8 - Tom Riddle x reader

Info: This is a rewrite of a story I've posted on my old account years ago. If it sounds familiar, that might be why :)

Summary: In this story, Tom didn't grow up as an orphan, but with his grandfather and uncle. Reader's sister got very sick and the Gaunts offer their help. But not without asking for something in return.

Warnings: Arranged marriage

Word count: 3.1k

Masterpost | Masterlist | Part 7 | Part 9

Part 8 - Slughorn's Party

Returning to Hogwarts after the Christmas holidays was far less stressful this time. Now that Elsie was better, it was much easier to concentrate on your studies. Maybe you could also focus on Tom. Both things seemed equally important somehow. And the fact that you could see Camille again added to the good things Hogwarts had to offer.

You were sitting on her bed in her dorm, telling her everything that had been going on during the last days. The Gaunts who had wanted to force you to do an unbreakable vow, their fight with Tom, that Tom had stayed for a bit, the book he had gifted you and everything in between. 

“I can’t believe you got him a snake,” Camille laughed. “What do you think his family said about that?”

“I couldn’t care less what they think of it. I hope they’re mad at me.”

“Do you think Tom got in trouble for it?”

“I don’t think so. He knows how to stand his ground.”

“And the book he gave you? Do you think that it means something? It’s some sort of family heirloom after all.”

Thinking about it, you lay down on your back next to her. “I’m not sure. Do you think that was some kind of secret message from him?”

“Maybe.”

“I’ll have to look into that.” You rolled over to face her. “And what have you done these days? Tell me all about your presents.”

“Well,” Camille said with a smile. “The presents weren’t the most exciting part of my holiday, to be honest.”

“Let me guess. You met someone! A guy?”

The smile on her face widened. “I didn’t meet him. I just kept in contact via owl.”

“Oh, Merlin! Who is it? Someone from school?”

She nodded.

“Go on, tell me!”

Her expression suddenly changed. “You have to promise not to be mad.”

“Why would I be mad?”

“It’s someone you don’t exactly like,” she said, a thick tone of guilt in her voice.

Then you knew. “No. Don’t. It’s Ben Hilt, isn’t it?”

She nodded slowly. “Yes.”

“Oh, Camille,” you sighed and needed a moment to sort out your thoughts. “Why?”

“He is a very charming boy.”

“He’s a year younger than you.”

“So?” she giggled.

“He wanted to tell on me to the Ministry, so that I wouldn’t be able to marry Tom. Sticks his nose in everybody’s business.”

“He just wanted to help. He thought you were forced to do it. And you have to admit he wasn’t exactly wrong about that.”

“Have you told him about the pact?”

“Of course not! I would never. I told him right from the start that if he’s only after me to get information about Riddle and you, he could piss off.”

“And?”

“He didn’t piss off,” she smiled. “He’s really nice. We never talked about you and Tom after I had made it clear it was none of his business. He didn’t even bring it up to begin with. I did. I would never date someone who would want to harm you, I swear.”

“Ugh, I know,” you groaned. “You’re too good. For me and for Ben.”

“Shut up,” she said as she nudged your shoulder.

“Wait. Did you just say ‘date’ someone? Are you official?”

“No. I guess not. But maybe someday. Now, what are you going to wear to Slughorn’s party?”

Slughorn’s annual belated New Year’s party was one of the few exclusive gatherings happening in school. Students could only attend if they had gotten a personal invitation, from Slytherin’s headteacher Horace Slughorn, who would invite his favourite pupil, or rather, the ones he thought looked best in his trophy collection. 

Camille, Tom and you had all gotten Slughorn’s owl. You had not mustered up the courage to ask him about it. Even though you were going to marry him, that didn’t mean he wanted to go to the party together. Together, as in, on a date. It had felt too delicate talking about it directly, the fear of being rejected too present. So you had danced around the subject, trying to find out if you were on the same page. Until he had finally said what you had wanted to hear. He had asked when to pick you up as if the possibility of not going there as a couple had not even occurred to him.

Seven o’clock, as arranged. It had arrived so soon. You hastily fixed the small wrinkles on the hem of your dress with a spell when you heard him knock on the door. Tom looked very posh in his black suit, politely offering his arm. And off you went. Together.

The guests at the party were students from years six and seven, as well as some teachers. Camille, who had brought Ben with her, looked absurdly pretty in her golden dress. Ben couldn’t have been more proud. He talked to Camille continuously and just seemed head over heels for her. Right next to them stood two of Ben’s friends, looking all out of character in suits. Avery and Lestrange came without dates and seemed awfully nervous for some reason. They whispered to each other every time you looked their way.

And then there was Freda Morris. Hogwarts’ head girl, who had her eyes fixated on Tom from the moment you had entered the room. Had she even noticed you next to him? Was she aware Tom was spoken for? Everyone knew by now that you were engaged after all, the ring on your finger being a testament to that. Either she didn’t know, or she didn’t care. The expression she sent you, after carefully staring you up and down, told you though, that she was absolutely aware of your relationship. She looked like she wanted to throw you out the next window.

“What in Merlin’s beard?” you muttered quietly to yourself after she had finally turned away from you.

“Pardon?” Tom asked and came closer so he could hear you better.

“Nevermind. Let’s go over to Camille and Ben, shall we?”

Tom’s gaze fell right on the two. 

“Your friend came with Hilt?” he asked sternly and began to walk their way. 

“Um, yes. About that,” you said, pulling lightly on his arm to stop him. “They’re dating. Kind of. They’re not official yet, but, you know, it could lead somewhere.”

He looked like you had just given him the world’s most unnecessary information. “What are you trying to tell me?” 

“That we have to be nice,” you answered and gave him your best fake smile, demonstrating what you wanted him to do.

“Nice?” He gawked so blankly at you, it was almost comical. “You want me to be nice to Benjamin Hilt? After what he’s done?”

“Well… Yes.”

“Why?” Tom asked, genuinely not understanding what you meant.

“Because Camille is my best friend. And she likes him.”

Tom sighed.

“Answer me this,” he said. “Camille knows a lot about you, yes?”

“Yes.”

“I assume she knows about us.“ He started talking more quietly. “Our pact?”

“She does.”

He rolled his eyes. “That’s what I thought.”

“So?” you asked.

“Isn’t it clear? He’s sweet-talking her to get information.”

“That’s what I first thought too. But Camille swore she wouldn’t tell him a thing. And she said she had made that clear to him from the beginning.”

Tom was still eyeing Ben sharply. 

“Come on,” you said and pulled him their way. “I trust Camille. It’ll be fine.”

“It‘s not her I don’t trust,” Tom said under his breath. “At least he's a true Gryffindor if he goes after her now. Either completely daft or actually courageous.” Your eyebrows lifted in question and he ducked his head grinning. “Remember I told you I’d take care of him when Marvolo sent his letter?”

“Yes?”

“I sort of did.”

Stopping in your tracks, you asked, “When? And what did you do?”

“A few weeks before Christmas. I just pulled him aside and talked.”

“Talked?”

“Well, I talked. He didn’t say much to be fair.”

“Tom, where did you take him?”

“The weather was nice so I took him outside.” 

Short answers again. This story wasn’t going to end well. “Where?”

He still feigned innocence, squinting his eyes as if he struggled to remember. “The whomping willow.”

“The wh- Tom! What in Merlin’s name were you thinking?”

“I said I’d take care of him, so I did!” He held his hands up in defence. “Also, he was only up in the air for a minute, okay? I held back.”

“I can’t believe you’re telling me this now,” you sighed, your fingers pressed against your forehead.

He shrugged. “I didn’t deem it important. For me, the issue was settled.”

“Okay.” Shaking your head, you started walking towards them again. “Since it’s settled, we can give him another chance. And vice versa.”

Tom didn’t answer, following you silently. 

When you greeted the two, Camille hugged you and gushed, “You look so beautiful! And you both know Ben, I believe.”

Of course, you did. Whether Ben wanted anything to do with you after what Tom had done was a different question. You offered him your hand and Ben shook it, despite it all, with an honest smile on his face.

“Fresh start?” you asked.

Ben nodded and turned to shake Tom’s hand as well. Tom looked at him seriously for a moment, inspecting his hand as if it was covered in Dragon Pox, until you nudged his side with your elbow, urging him to accept, which he reluctantly did.

Slughorn called for dinner before you could talk more, so you all went to the big oval table on the other side of the room. Ben sat down left of Camille, you to her right and Tom on your other side. Slughorn talked openly across the table, asking his students about their holidays, while dinner was served. Freda, obviously trying to impress, mentioned that she had been to France with her family, which didn’t have quite the effect on Slughorn that she had hoped it would.

“Pathetic,” you mumbled and Camille chuckled.

“Mean, aren’t we?” Tom whispered, a grin forming on his face.

“Me? Never.”

He exhaled a laugh and slowly grabbed your hand beneath the table, taking you by surprise. You looked at him, your fingers wrapping around his hand, then pulled them upwards and rested both his and your hand on the table. 

“Now you’re just cruel,” Tom jested when Freda looked over and saw the two of you.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you answered, biting the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from smiling. “I’m merely holding my fiance's hand. That’s not an act of violence, is it?”

“Fiancé, huh?” Tom asked.

“Aren’t you?”

“You’ve never called me that before.”

He was right. You had never called him that in person, or when you had talked about him to anyone else. If you didn’t know better, you could have sworn that a crimson haze was creeping up his neck and across his face.

“Well,” you swallowed, feeling a wave of heat on your cheeks as well. “It’s what you are, whether we like it or not.”

Tom nodded and held your hand a little tighter while glancing down at the table. “Fair.”

After dinner, the guests spread around the room, chatting and drinking punch while they waited for the first dance of the evening. Slughorn had pulled Tom aside a while ago, asking about his opinions on different things concerning Potions, politics and the news. He visibly hung to Tom’s every word, clearly awed by his favourite student, nodded and agreed to most of the things Tom said. You turned your back on them and faced Camille and Ben, still hearing the two chat behind you and thinking of how well-spoken Tom was. He knew how to lull in every teacher by heart. Each word that left his mouth seemed carefully crafted for Slughorn’s ears only and made him react just as Tom wanted him to. Impressive. 

Having engaged in conversation with Camille and Ben, while still keeping an ear on Tom behind you, you heard that Slughorn finally set him free and wished him a nice evening. Tom would be joining you, no doubt, even though he still didn’t like Ben when suddenly an all too familiar voice started talking to him.

“Hello Tom,” Freda Morris said, sickly sweet. “How are you? How were your holidays?”

You shot Camille a look, to which she automatically checked the people behind you, eyes wide in disbelief when she peered back at you. 

“What are you going to do?” she mouthed silently.

“No idea,” you mouthed back.

Ben stared back and forth between Camille and you, completely confused until he finally noticed what you were whispering about. 

“Oh,” Ben snorted. “Someone’s looking for trouble.”

Alright. Freda had not given up on Tom yet. There was a knot in your stomach, pulling bitterly and twisting your insides. You tried to ignore it, took a deep breath and decided to listen to them first. Maybe you were overreacting. Jinxing her later was still an option.

“Oh yes, Paris was wonderful actually,” Freda enthused and had pronounced ‘Paris’ in a weird French accent. “It’s so cosy there around Christmas, you have to go someday.”

“Sounds nice,” Tom answered, rather casually. “Well, if you don’t mind, I-”

“Oh, Tom, actually,” she went on. “I wanted to ask you. Don’t you think we should open the first dance together, as head boy and girl? It’s a tradition, after all.”

Tradition? You had never heard of such a tradition before. Camille and Ben, now eavesdropping too, were as dumbfounded as you. Camille was sincerely shocked, while Ben’s mouth was open, half laughing, half speechless, like a fish on land gasping for air. It seemed that you had not been overreacting, so you turned around, now facing Tom and Freda’s backside.

“I don’t know if that’s actually a tradition, Freda,” Tom said, looking back at you briefly, one side of his mouth pulling upwards.

“Philip Elms and Eve Sterling opened the dance at last year’s party,” she huffed. “They were head girl and boy too.”

“Correct,” Tom agreed. “But they were dating at the time, weren’t they?”

Freda didn’t answer.

“And since we are not dating, I have to politely decline,” he said, again looking at you. “Now excuse me, I have to talk to my fiancée.”

Tom left Freda standing there and the four of you watched her wandering off. No one said a word, Camille was holding her breath until Ben burst out laughing. “Mate,” he chuckled. “That was… deadly.”

Tom didn’t laugh, squinting at what Ben had just called him, but nodded appreciatively before he turned to you, offering his hand.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“Opening the dance? The music has just started and Slughorn told me I should do it.”

You shook your head smiling, took his hand and let him take you over to the dance floor.

“For someone who accused me of being cruel, you’re doing a very good job yourself, you know,” you said, keeping an eye out for Freda, in case she planned on hexing you. Better safe than sorry. 

“Ah, she’ll be fine,” Tom assured. “Or would you have preferred if I took her to dance?”

The question didn't need an answer, so you just gave him a knowing look when you arrived on the dance floor, where you got in position. Tom placed his hand on your waist and took your right hand in his other one, holding both of them upright below shoulder height. All the guests had gathered around the floor, waiting for you to start dancing. Luckily there wasn’t enough time to get too nervous. It had all happened in a matter of moments.

“You know how to waltz, right?” Tom asked.

“It’s been a while, but-”

“Doesn’t matter, I’ll lead,” he said and took the first step, spinning in circles in three-four time.

Tom was a good dancer, which wasn’t surprising. He probably had taken courses some years ago, just like you, upon your parent’s request. You kept up with him quite well, only taking a wrong step every now and then.

“If I had known, I would’ve practised…”

“It’s alright, people will join in soon. You’re doing well,” he reassured you and lightly squeezed your waist.

The fact that you had never been so close to him for more than a few seconds became more apparent the longer he held onto you. Suddenly the spinning felt faster, all eyes focusing on you, burning holes right through you. The only thing steadying you was Tom and his hands. You spotted Camille in the crowd, who was smiling at you, holding up her hand and giving you a thumbs up. That made you feel a bit more at ease, so you let Tom lead you round the floor, twirling away from people’s stares. Finally, halfway through the song, pairs of people joined in and filled up the dance floor, leaving not much room to be glared at.

Tom looked at you, a proud smile adorning his face, his eyes softer than you had ever witnessed before.

“What’s that I’m seeing there?” you asked. “A genuine smile? Certainly a rare sight.”

He swallowed, not changing his expression. “Camille was right.”

“She usually is. But what do you mean?”

“Earlier, when we went up to them. She said you look beautiful. You do.”

People’s faces around you seemed to blur and you couldn’t hear them properly anymore. The only thing you saw was Tom’s face and how his eyes still stared into yours. It felt as if you weren’t dancing anymore, but rather floating above the ground, a swarm of butterflies emerging from your stomach. Your hand went from Tom’s shoulder behind his neck on its own and pulled him closer. Closer, just a tiny bit closer, so that you were able to view every single one of his eyelashes. His chest bumped against you and his cologne tickled your nose. You let yourself sink into the smell of bergamot and lemon, feeling how his hand squeezed your waist a bit tighter by the second.

Closer, until you both shut your eyes and your lips met in the middle, kissing Tom right out there on the dance floor. You were the only people who had stopped spinning, even though it still felt like you spiralled around a hundred miles an hour. Butterflies turned into aeroplanes, rotating and crashing gently against each other, just like the two of you.

Masterpost | Masterlist | Part 9

Tags: @ariachaos

#tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle fluff #tom riddle angst #tom riddle AU #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #voldemort #voldemort x reader #hp #hp fanfiction #reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction #harry potter #imagine #imagines #fluff #angst #x reader

[whitexwolfxx310]

I'm Dreaming Of A *White* Christmas (BBWWS)

Pairing: Bucky x female reader

Summary: Christmas fun at The Compound with Bucky gets steamy.

Warnings: 18+ !!! Y/N, smut post, super fluff and some angst, oral sex (Female to male), unprotected sex, shower sex, light cursing, talk of love.

Word Count: 3708

Gif: Credit goes to dunkinnn and lizzie-olsen

A/Ns: Sorry this post took a little bit longer than usual. With the holidays, things got a little crazy. Thank you for your patience. Thank you all so much for reading!

Taglist: @peaches1958 @aquabrie @elsie-bells @pono-pura-vida @redbloodedgurl @almosttoopizza @beware-my-thorns @prettylittlepluviophile @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny @calwitch @ozwriterchick @roofwitty779

Previous Post

Masterlist

Gone on another mission, The Compound has been relatively quiet. While this building has every amenity you could think of and more, it tends to get a bit lonely. Every morning you wake up to find Bucky already awake, looking at you with an affectionate smile which is an incredible way to start any day. Each night you're disappointed by a lonely bed, putting it out into the universe that he will be home soon.

With the holidays quickly approaching, you can't help but have a strong feeling of empathy towards your fellow housemates. The holidays seem to be something not necessarily celebrated around here, which isn't uncommon in this field of work. Most of these people have experienced a terrible loss or some sort of tragic incident that makes celebrating difficult, which is completely understandable. But not this year. This year, you're going to do what you can to bring some peace, some sort of recognition that they so desperately deserve.

Remembering that there was an abundance of extra Christmas decorations courtesy of Quill and the rest of the Guardians, (Which no one has really any idea where they came from), you quickly make your way down to the storage room to glance it over. After multiple trips between The Compound floors, you're now looking at the large array of festive pieces on the living room floor. A small wave of anxiety flows through you at the thought of Bucky coming home and seeing, what he considers, a mess. His tidiness is both a blessing and a curse.

Let's get to it then.

A few stressful hours of hard work and perfection gives you the satisfaction you were hoping for. Across the island in the kitchen is draped, greenery garland. Three classic red, white, and green stockings hang adjacent on the wall. One for Bucky, one for yourself, and of course, one for Alpine. Fake, fluffy white snow covers the base of the bay window. Mini white Christmas lights outline the entirety of each window pane. A few gold candles of various sizes were placed on each counter. And last, but not least, the main attraction of it all is the Christmas tree standing in the corner of the living room. Also decorated with classic Christmas lights and has a modest mixed amount of red and gold ornaments. Alpine seems to approve of the tree as well, brushing her face up against the bottom branches.

Putting some of your favorite Christmas movies on repeat, you start on one of the most important traditions of all: homemade hot chocolate and bake cookies to decorate. While baking has never been a strong suit for you, technological advances have come a long way in the form of break apart sugar cookie dough.

The aroma of freshly baked cookies and a hint of pine fills the apartment. Setting the cookies onto a cooling rack, you start to set up a small decoration station that includes different color icing and sprinkles. Being so involved in the art that is cookie decorating, you didn't even hear the door open. Out of your peripheral vision, Bucky is slowly walking in, slightly waving his hand to get your attention as to not scare you. It doesn't work. You jump back slightly.

"Sorry! Sorry.... I really tried not to frighten you." Bucky laughs, but his eyes start to wonder around the apartment. "Wow." He says, sort of monotoned.

You scurry from behind the counter, now standing in front of him. Coming from a person who's tidiness is on just a whole new level, it might seem like Santa Claus himself threw up in this place. Bucky doesn't make eye contact with you as he continues to look over each and every new detail about the apartment.

"Is it too much? It's too much. I'm sorry!" You feel the anxiety start to rise up from the pit of your stomach as you spin to start taking things down but are soon held in place by a warm hand grasped onto yours.

“No, don’t.” He starts, focusing on you for the first time since he noticed the newly decorated apartment. “It’s beautiful.” His eyes dart between each and every new display. Alpine sits firmly at Bucky’s feet while softly purring, her tail gently swishing back and forth along the floor behind her as she demands the obligatory welcome home love session.

“Oh hi, pretty girl.” Bucky says as he kneels down onto the floor, his hand scratches the top of her head and moved down along her back. Rolling over onto her back, Alpine meows and pokes out her stomach. He laughs as he indulges in the belly rubs. “I know, I know. Did you miss me?”

If he's like this with a cat, imagine him with kids. Ugh. My heart.

"Now you're the one with a staring problem." Bucky says looking up at you from the floor. You quickly realize that you were daydreaming, watching him, cheesing so hard that your cheeks hurt.

"S-Sorry." You say quietly, your cheeks now turning red from embarrassment. Giving one more gentle caress down Alpine's stomach, Bucky stands up, facing you, taking a step closer.

"Did you miss me?" He asks. The question was proposed as a sarcastic one. But by now, you know there is an hidden underlying implication. Searching his eyes, you see it. He's genuinely curious. And yet, he seems nervous for the answer although he is trying his best not to show it.

"Ehh..." You take a step closer, now standing on the balls of your feet making yourself taller so that the tips of your noses just touch. "Maybe a little." A small snort escapes from your nose just before you stretch your neck just a little more to place a gentle kiss on his lips. Bucky returns the sentiment, smiling as he cups your face on each side and presses his forehead into yours.

"Same here, Sunshine." Bucky smiles just a little wider. "Although..." He takes a step backwards, moving his hands down from your cheeks to your biceps. "I need to know. What is it that's making this place smell so good?"

"Oh!" You're slightly bouncing from the excitement, and relief, of him liking the décor. "I made sugar cookies." You say eagerly, tilting your neck slightly to the left a few times indicating to look over. He walks over to the island, looking at the display of treats prepped and ready to be decorated. Bucky goes to take one and you slap his hand away. His eyebrows raised in surprise. "If you help me decorate, maybe I'll let you have one."

The promise of a small treat was all the convincing he needed. New core memories are created as Bucky wraps his arms around you from behind, trying to spread icing onto the cookies. It was difficult for two people to try and accomplish in such a close proximity. By the time you’re both done, it looks as though a toddler iced and sprinkled the cookies. The playful banter back and forth with each other lead to the occasional tease with icing.

Both stepping back to admire the kindergarten grade cookies, you both look at each other and laugh. “It’s the thought that counts, right?” Bucky continues to chuckle as he tries to sound convincing.

His hand catches your eye, the tiniest drop of icing on his finger. “Here, you have a little…” you start as you take his hand. Bringing it to your mouth, your lips wrapping around his pointer finger a little further down than necessary. Keeping eye contact with him, you slowly pull back, allowing the pad of his finger to slide against your bottom teeth and the tip of your tongue delicately flicks over the end of his fingertip as it exits your mouth.

Bucky, intrigued, raises his eyebrows in response. He visibly relaxes as a grin smoothly appears on his mouth. "And you..." He says, as he leans his face in closer to yours while his thumb and pointer finger create a U shape around your chin. "Have something right..." Using those two fingers only, he manipulates your head to tilt up and to the side. His tongue presses to your cheek, dragging it slowly upwards. "Here." He says, leaving a sensual kiss on your cheek. Your body trembles slightly under his touch after being alone for the last few weeks. Your skin starts ever so lightly tingle from each time he makes skin to skin contact.

Giggling, you step backward towards the counter and reach for a container with the remaining icing. Quickly you stick your finger into the icing and boop Bucky on the nose. His forehead and nose scrunch revealing a playful smile. Reaching for the container, he sticks three fingers into the icing, now grinning from ear to ear.

You quickly realized that you made a mistake. Trying to dart away, Bucky snatches you up from behind. Kicking your feet and squealing, he lets go, bending over from laughing so hard. You take this opportunity to run on the other side of the counter so at least that is between you two. You mirror his movements. Each step he takes to the right, you take one to the left and vise versa.

Even for a split second, it was a stupid thought that you could even outrun him. Watching him intently, you bite your bottom lip. Now wearing a mischievous smile, Bucky jumps up onto the island effortlessly. Within one stride he steps down onto a chair and lightly jumps onto the floor in front of you. Knowing that you’re trapped no matter which way you try to go, your fight vs flight response completely shorts out. He swiftly moves forward, bracing you with his left arm but using the messy icing fingers to gently grab your face. Almost as if it was a wedding cake, he caresses it across your face.

“Bucky!!!” You call but can barely get out with all of the laughing. You’re then silenced with a sweet, messy, perfect ‘fall in love’ this very moment, kiss. It feels as if you’re just melting into him. Your body presses up against him and his does the same in response.

“We are um… quite messy.” You breathe between kisses.

"Hmm." He moans into your mouth. "I think I know what we can do to fix that." Without breaking the kiss, he lifts you up, supporting you from underneath your thighs.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, he walks you both through the bedroom and into your shared bathroom. Leaning into the shower, he turns the water on. Steam immediately starts to fill the bathroom, making the atmosphere thicker. You can feel him shifting around slightly, which a moment later you recognized that he had removed his shoes. As you're expecting him to put you down so you can take your clothes off, he doesn't. Opening the glass door into the shower, he steps in, still holding you, and you both fully clothed.

"W-What are you doing?!" You ask, confused and yet curious. Bucky let's out an amused laugh.

"You said we were a mess, Y/N. You gave me a problem and this is my solution." He says, lightheartedly. Gently, he helps you plant your feet down onto the wet tile, bracing you in case your clumsiness decides to show it's ugly face.

Once you're stable, your arms find their way around each other once more. The warm water from the large, rainfall showerhead is weaving in and out between the kiss. As the seconds pass by, both your clothes and his, are starting to stick tightly to your bodies from being damp. Feeling confined from the now restricted clothing, you pull away from the kiss. Bucky's hair has fallen to it's natural state, dripping into his face as he looks into your eyes fervently.

Your hands instinctively reach for the bottom of his shirt, rolling it up a little at a time. At least, as much as you can peel the damp fabric off of his body. With a little additional help from Bucky himself, the soaked t-shirt is discarded into the corner of the shower. Reciprocating, his hands start to tug upwards on the hem of your shirt. While he's pulling up, you start trying to shimmy out of the top as well.

"I guess I didn't think this all the way through." Bucky laughs. That genuine, can turn your entire day around, contagious and reserved laugh that only you're allowed to hear. Your body feels as though it's going to liquify underneath his touch.

Almost being successful with the shirt, he is able to get the clothing up your neck and partially over your face. He lingers a moment, letting the drowned shirt stay just above your nose. Leaning in, his mouth is immediately on yours. The shirt being used as a makeshift blindfold for a moment. Bending down just a little, your head and arms are free, your shirt now joining his on the floor.

Pressing your bodies into one another, each others hands find their way to the button of the other persons jeans. Working collectively and matching movements, you are now eagerly stepping out of your pants while maintaining the kiss. After undoing the button and zipper of his jeans, you take this opportunity to break away from the kiss. Bending down onto your knees, you grasp the hem of the jeans and start tearing them down.

Bucky braces his back against the humid shower glass, leaning his hips lightly forward towards you to aid in getting the jeans off. Feeling absolutely feral as his pants come off to join the rest of the clothes on the floor, your eyes lock with one another. Like a lightbulb turning on, the idea clicks into your head. We've never been here before.

Sitting back on your knees, the warmth of the rainfall lands near the back of your head, spilling into your hair and along your back. Bucky has an inquisitive expression on his face, wondering where this is going.

Blinking a few waterdrops off of your lashes, you lean in slightly and your hand reaches his ankle, your fingers slowly trailing their way up higher and higher, also leaving the occasional small scratch along the way. While it seemed painfully slow, it was only a matter of time before your hand was at his base. Looking up through hooded eyes, you open your mouth, tongue stretched out as you press it to his tip.

Maintaining the eye contact, your lips curl into a smirk before placing them around the head. Bucky's clenching his teeth, looking as though the breath was sucked right out of him. Sighing, his head leans backward onto the glass. Pulling back and opening your mouth more, you lean in, being able to take more of him in. He sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, his waist instinctively pressing towards you.

Sliding your mouth backwards, you make it a point to press your tongue firmly up against the bottom of his shaft as you start to pull away. His chest is already heaving. This won't take much. With one hand gently gripped in his inner thigh, the other hand wraps around the bottom of his length. Once your mouth is pulled all the way back, you wait until Bucky's eyes lock with yours. Without blinking, you spit onto the end, using your hand that is already grasped onto him to slide the lubrication you provided down and around.

His mouth hangs open slightly at the gesture but is soon replaced with a low, mumbled moan. Waiting until your hand makes it's way back to the tip, you use your mouth to accompany the hand. Almost as if holding a microphone, your hand guides your mouth up and down. As soon as he seems to be enjoying himself, you switch it up, intensifying and edging him closer and closer to his climax.

Your grasp twists around as it goes forward and back. The top of your tongue flicks left and right as it gets guided by your hand. He's becoming restless; heavy breathing, more vocal, his right hand moves down to intertwine in your hair, encouraging you movements a go a little faster. When you can feel him start to get harder in your grip, his hand releases from your hair. Bringing his right hand up to his face, he bites down on his own knuckle, hard.

This takes you back a moment, confused by the gesture. A small 'pop' sound as your mouth pulls back and off of him. There's a flicker that crosses his gaze, looking at you amazed, adoringly, and something within him that also is coming out primal.

Bucky lifts you off of your knees to stand straight in front of him. Placing both of your hands on his chest, he hungerly seeks your lips. Modesty is out the window as his tongue caresses against yours. The kiss portrays how much he has missed you, how much he craves to be with you, to be inside of you any way that he can.

He then turns you around, your hands and breasts pressed against the glass. Using his foot between your legs, he spreads each leg just a little wider. His chest finds your back straight away, desperate to be as close to you as possible. Reaching around, his pointer and right middle finger go to your clit, rubbing in soft circles.

Your now sensitive body is pushing back against him. But after the slight foreplay, Bucky is ready to move forward. He slides the tip of himself on your core from back to front, before he is at your center, pushing himself in slowly. A relieved sigh comes from deep in your throat, trying everything to compose yourself and not beg him to fuck the ever living daylights out of you.

Once he is fully in, he stops for a moment; Taking all of you in, letting you adjust around his length.

"You're so tight..." Bucky breathes. It's like music to your ears. This moment can only get better at this point. He slowly draws himself almost completely out of you, but then thrusts back in. The suddenness makes you jump slightly from being so delicate under his touch. Before too long, he's pumping in and out of you in a steady rhythm. The water trickles down on your back and funnels through right to where the two of your bodies meet.

The moaning from both yourself, and him, start to become more frequent and louder with the panting breaking the now constant vocals. "Don't stop." You breathe. Just trying to get the two simple words out was a task in itself. Keeping the same rhythm, the thrusts become a little bit more defined. Now the moans, if you could even call them that, start to coincide with one another. The waves of warmed water crashing over you both.

A familiar pressure has been creeping up inside you. The one that demands to be seen, heard, and felt. The pleasure that feels so good but almost begs you to stop at the same time. A feeling that you're going to explode from the inside out, in the best way possible. Arching your back down just a little more, Bucky starts to glide right over the sweetest spot of all with each forward and back motion.

Your face presses up against the cool glass of the shower, trying to relieve yourself from the scorching heat rippling through you. His hands grab each side of your hips, causing the collision to get even more intense. Didn't think that was possible.

Feeling as though you took a step off of a tall ledge, you can't help but fall in love with the feeling of the free fall. The additional warmth from his climax mixed with your own drags the moment out. Becoming almost painfully sensitive with each slowing stroke.

Breathless, you each take a moment to collect yourselves. Your heartrate coming down, panting, the instant chill of sweat meeting the air. You can feel him gently pull out and your body's response is to quickly bury yourself in his chest. This is the moment; The exact place and time that if you were to die in this second, it would be the perfect way to go.

Being the sweet, nurturing man that only you seem to know, Bucky holds you and caresses your soft slicked skin. This is the first time your mind sees him. The protector, vulnerable, independent, and humble man that has everything you have ever wanted and more in a partner. The gentleness in his touch is what you needed to be complete. He isn't the type to jump in bed and leave at the first chance he gets. He's committed. He looks after you, paying attention to the tiniest details about yourself. Continuing to be there for you in the way of taking care of you. Washing your body, rubbing his sudsy hands up and down along your body.

Taking in a deep breath, it sounds like he's going to say something but hesitates. You look up to meet his eyes, looking into them admiringly. There is a heaviness in the air between you. An unspoken confession that both of you have, yet no one has been brave enough to say.

"Bucky, I-..." You start, swallowing down the feeling of being rejected in your throat. "I...I love you." It's barely audible. Maybe he didn't even hear it. It's too late to take it back. The lifetime lingering moment of silence makes you requestion the admission you just gave. You didn't even realize you were holding your breath waiting for his answer until his mouth opens.

"I love you too, Y/N." He professes. The amazing moment where it's not just you who has been feeling this way. Everything you have been daydreaming and more might have a chance at becoming reality. It takes everything you have to not jump up and down, celebrating like a teenager.

"Let's go get ready. We have some cookies to hand out." You smile, placing one more gentle kiss on his lips.

Next part

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[somethingclevermahogony]

Last Line Tag

I was tagged by @elsie-writes !

This is the last thing I wrote, though certainly not line by any means, it's a whole scene, but I felt like sharing the whole thing. Sorry I suppose. Narul having his first experience with oysters in Makora.

This is from Book 2

Narul turned in a circle. Stands sold various kinds of bread, alongside dried meats, sausages, and more of that mysterious yellow substance. One particular stand caught his attention. Arranged on the wooden plank which constituted the counter, were strange cups or containers, slightly flat and misshapen. Inside each was some strange pearly white thing, swimming in a clear liquid of sorts. Narul had never seen the likes of them before, though he thought the cups were somewhat familiar. He approached the vendor, an elderly man, his hands calloused and crooked. “Um, what are these?” He gestured at the strange fare. “Oysters…” The old man muttered uncertainly. Narul had heard about oysters from Istek, the old sailor had craved them incessantly, though he had never quite managed to get his hands on them. Oysters were a rarity in Labisa, a product which required the molluscs to be shipped over great distances by foot and boat, a delicacy available only to the most elite. Hutbari had never been particularly fond of shellfish, as such Narul had never had the opportunity to see them. “Are they…cooked?” He asked uncertainly. The vendor blinked. “No?” The old man seemed confused. Narul shuffled awkwardly. He seemed to remember that Istek had said they were eaten raw. His stomach growled. “Worth a try.” Bop said with a chuckle. Narul had no idea how much a single oyster cost. After a moment of hesitation, he placed one of the silver coins on the counter. The vendor’s eyes widened. Immediately he started to prepare the shellfish, sprinkling them with some sort of dried seaweed, some sort of chopped allium, and a yellow oil that Narul was unfamiliar with. Before Narul could stop him the old man had already prepared no less than two dozen. The old man bowed and waited anxiously for Narul to eat. “Do…Do I eat all of it?” Narul asked Bop. “I don’t know, I’ve never eaten before.” The spirit replied. Narul grimaced. He lifted one of the cups to his mouth, and after a beat, tossed the whole thing into his mouth. He quite enjoyed the flavor, briny and yet somewhat sweet, the seaweed added some much needed contrast and slight vegetal note. He was not a fan, however, of the shell. He had no issue crunching through the brittle material, his powerful jaw rendering it to a chalky dust, however its taste was somewhat bitter and coated his tongue. When he looked at the vendor, the old man’s face had gone pale, his jaw was slack, eyes bugged from his skull. “I don’t think you were supposed to eat the bottom part.” Bop laughed. “Oh…” Narul muttered out loud. He sheepishly scooped up the rest of the oysters, balancing them in his hands as he shuffled away to find somewhere he could eat them. It took some time for the giant to master the art of eating them. At first he tried to place the entire morsel into his mouth, to remove the edible part with his tongue and then spit out the shell like an olive pit. He then switched to plucking each individual mollusc from its shell, though the tiny delicate bits of flesh were far too delicate and slippery, and wound up either in the dirt or squashed between his index finger and thumb just as often as they found their way to his mouth. Finally, he stopped to watch how the locals ate them, sliding them from the shells into their mouths, slurping them like wine from a cup. He dumped the empty shells onto a nearby pile of waste. The shellfish had been tasty, though they hardly satisfied his hunger. He started to look for something else to eat when his search was interrupted by a booming roar which echoed from the direction of docks. “You!”

Tagging @revenantlore , @kosmic-kore , @jakkon-and-rose-topic , and @illarian-rambling

#wip excerpt #creative writing #writeblr #writing #testamentsofthegreensea #fantasy writing #fantasy food