#Jewelry care tips for summer | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

florencemtrash · 3 months

Text

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Eleven

Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: None. Gwyn and Y/n bond over books. Azriel and Y/n get even closer — this had me kicking my feet and screaming internally and externally

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

Rhysand’s training sessions always started with him sliding over ten objects: a book, a piece of jewelry, an article of clothing — anything he could find with meaning for you to discern.

“This one is Mor’s.” You held the red satin box in your hands. Two months ago you would have only been able to tell him who it belonged to. Maybe nothing at all. The meaning held by the object was weak. The jewelry too new. Unworn. But now you could harness your power with more precision, like you’d finally been handed an image of the puzzle you were trying to complete so you knew what to look for. “You bought it two months ago at Cizero’s as a Winter Solstice gift.”

“And what is it exactly?”

The box was still closed.

You pushed your power forward, imagining light slipping in through the seam of the box. An image flashed in your mind. It was blurry, but held onto its form long enough for you to make it out.

“Drop earrings. Rubies,” you said with a straight back before dropping the box into Rhysand’s open palm.

He smirked and clicked it open. Gold banded rubies hung from the backing like bloody tears, each drop separated by a diamond that flashed brighter than the stars in the ever darkening sky.

You dared to smile, staring at the jewelry with a level of satisfaction you hadn’t felt since being handed top marks as an apprentice.

“Very nicely done.”

The box disappeared back into his desk beside a glimmering gemstone the size of your fist wrapped in tissue paper.

It’s probably for Amren. You thought to yourself. Azriel told you she loved shiny things and hoarded her treasures like a crow. Hence why she’d yet to return from Summer with Varian.

You moved on to the next portion of your exercises. With a feather light touch, Rhysand laid his hands on your palms, your wrists, your forearm, your shoulders. He moved up and down your body, waiting a minute for you to control yourself before touching the next flash of exposed skin. It was still difficult to completely contain your power, but you were getting better at moving it around your body. When he reached for your hands, you slid the magic up to your chest. When he reached for your knees, it moved down to your ankles. It was a delicate dance, like the curling of ocean water away from the shore or the splitting of a river around a stone.

You did what you could to experience the touches with a clinical detachment and Rhysand did as well. He was careful. He stopped the moment you let out a gasp of surprise at the feeling of warm skin pressed against your own and there wasn’t an ounce of judgement written in his beautiful features when you trembled beneath his touch.

“Take your time,” he said encouragingly.

For him, touch was a necessary part of life. He always had an arm slung over Cassian’s shoulders or wrapped around Feyre’s waist. He fell asleep with his mate pressed against him and he walked around the River House with Nyx on his shoulders and Velaria curled up in his arms. But there were also mornings when he’d wake up in a cold sweat, the feeling of Amarantha’s red-tipped nails dragging down his chest like she wanted to take more from him than just his body. Those were the days Feyre knew to give him his space.

“Take all the time that you need.”

Rhys stepped away. You steadied your breath and took time to record your progress in the journal you kept close by. Although there was no true way to quantify your learning, your Day Court training never left you and you wrote down what little could be put into words — for posterity’s sake. Then maybe the next Clairvoyant the Mother willed into existence would have an easier time navigating this than you.

Gwyn found you squirreled away in your usual reading room, back bowed over a flurry of books and note pages like a reed in the wind. You reached for the mug on the desk only to find it disappointingly empty. Unlike the River House, the Library did not fuel your caffeine addiction with reckless abandon.

She floated over, abandoning the cart of books she’d been tasked with returning that night. Her legs were throbbing from the split squats Cassian had coached her through that evening, and she was desperate for a break.

“Some light reading, I see?” she teased, sinking into the seat across from you.

You looked up, eyes red-rimmed and swollen. It took a few moments for Gwyn’s shape to come into focus.

“What?” The word slurred coming out of your mouth.

She tapped the ever growing pile of papers beside you. Your manuscript: 120 hand-written pages and counting. When the book became too frustrating to handle, you abandoned it in exchange for another productive task. Even if the 120 pages you’d reproduced were utter garbage.

You groaned, forehead slamming against the wood with a clatter. Thoughts of white blood cells, lymphatic vessels, and innate and acquired immunity knotted in your brain like the world’s worst game of cat’s cradle.

Gwyn would have found it amusing if she didn’t know just how much time you spent within the mountain. You’d effectively been adopted by the priestesses. Lurking here and there like a cat coming in from the cold. And you were just as disapproving as a stray. Gwyn would often catch you among the stacks, mumbling about the disorganization and how you couldn’t work in such paltry conditions.

“Cauldron boil me, I’m sorry for asking.” Gwyn raised her hands in surrender.

You let out a great, heaving sigh. “It’s not you.”

“Oh I know it’s not me. You look like you’ve been dragged through a gutter.”

You blinked wearily at the lovely priestess.

“A very clean, well-managed gutter.” She grinned. Her skin shone, reflecting the pale, fuzzy moonlight that filtered through the window above and doused the library in a silver sheen.

“Thank you, Gwyn.”

“Anytime.” She drummed her nails against the table, the beat of it almost sending you to sleep. “How long have you been here today?” she asked with concern.

“I don’t know. What time is it?”

“After midnight.”

“Oh.”

“How long?” Gwyn repeated and you dragged a hand down your face.

“Seven hours? Give or take?” Your stomach growled.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.”

Gwyn grabbed you by the end of your robes, tugging you up several floors and down an unfamiliar hallway until you stopped in front of a teal-blue tapestry. Selkies, sirens, and water nymphs dove in and out of rippling waters highlighted by iridescent beads. She flung it to the side and pressed her hand against the bare stone. The slab sank into the wall and then slid open to reveal a cream-colored room adorned with bundles of babies' breath.

“Sit,” she commanded, pointing to the neatly made bed. You swayed dangerously on your feet.

“I’m really fine. I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“Sit. Down.” She cut you with a lethal gaze Nesta would be proud of.

You snapped your mouth shut, shuffled across the carpeted floor, and sank into the queen-sized bed. You played with the ties of your robe wrapping them around your finger, then unwrapping them, then wrapping them again.

King Tiberion, third of the Nachmanian line, born Aschieron Cambria Nostrus Tiberion Dalgna to Effel Taul and foreign-born…

Found dead at a young three-hundred-and-ninety-two years of age at the hands of her brother. Spell cleaver or not, Ingrid…

Something like a lock and a key. Magic that’s perfectly complementary might be afforded the unique ability to seal… and break… gods I’m tired…

There have only been seven recorded Shadowsingers in history: Lovania Vallant born 895 in the age of Alders (see ref. 18992HBG Carstairs), Gherald Dashiv born 1459 in the age of —

Gwyn snapped her fingers in front of you, pulling your mind out of the hurricane of thoughts. You were a strange creature. You spoke little, moved about the Library as quiet as a mouse, and you had an interesting habit of running your fingers along every book on the shelf. Back and forth, back and forth you’d run along before jerking to a stop like one of the books had caught you at the end of a fishing lure.

“Are you ok?”

“I’m fine,” you repeated.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“Some would say that’s a good thing. It would make me incredibly trustworthy, at least when it comes to responding to things. I’d be terrible at keeping secrets, unless I was very careful about how I went about things. You know how it is. With the things.”

Gwyn huffed with silent laughter and opened one of the cabinets in her small, makeshift kitchen. “Eat.” She commanded again and you were too slow to catch the sleeve of biscuits she tossed in your direction. It bounced off your forehead and landed in your lap. “I’ll be right back with something more substantial.”

The door shut with a puff of air and you were left to chew on the chocolate and orange biscuits in silence.

Gwyn’s room faced the city and you saw the lamplights burning through the windows that had been cut into the mountain rock, mimicking the stars that twinkled overhead like salt poured onto black glass.

Cream satin sheets caught the moonlight until it glowed and you had the sudden urge to tip back and fall into oblivion. You could work for a long while, so long as you didn’t sit still long enough for the exhaustion to catch up to you — which you were doing now.

You shoved another biscuit in your mouth, now almost halfway through the sleeve. It helped settle the hollowness in your stomach so you could pick yourself up and move over to the bookshelf.

Bodice ripper, bodice ripper, murder mystery, bodice ripper, romantic comedy, found family adventure, spy thriller, bod—

Your face went red. Damn.

The priestess chose that moment to return to her room carrying a tray laden with bread, orange slices, and a thick mushroom stew leftover from dinner. She froze, pale cheeks turning a dusty rose as you silently pushed the book back onto the shelf.

“Dragon-born? Really?” You shoved a burning spoonful of stew in your mouth and drowned the stale crust of bread, waiting for it to get sufficiently soggy enough you could chew it.

Gwyn groaned and buried her face in her pillows. “It was a phase.”

“Must have been a very long phase. You have the whole series and I know it took her thirty years to write them all.”

Her head shot up. “How do you know?”

“I read the first book.”

You sat up straighter, back pressed up against the closet that housed her daily robes, ceremonial garb, training gear, and Valkyrie armour.

“So how can you judge me?!”

“It makes no anatomical sense, Gwyn!” You threw your hands up in the air. “She’s four feet shorter than him. He’d sooner tear her in half before giving her any pleasure, and I’m not talking about his claws.”

The priestess scoffed. “Have some imagination, Y/n.”

You huffed and pulled out a notebook from your ample pockets. You both spent the next thirty minutes going through hastily drawn sketches that would have disappointed Feyre to no end testing out your imaginative capabilities. Gwyn couldn’t stop smiling at you as you moved your hands through the air with animated fervor. Half of what you said didn’t make sense, but she would blame it on your sleep deprivation.

You had Gwyn in stitches. The female hung off the bed, red-brown hair brushing the ground as she gasped for breath. You looked like you were sitting on the ceiling, black robes pooled around your knees like shadows.

That sobered Gwyn up a bit. It was a real shame she liked you as much as she did. It made it harder for her to stay mad at Azriel.

And as if you read her mind, you asked, “Why don’t you come around to the River House?”

“What?” She wasn’t laughing anymore.

“Why don’t you come to the River House?” You asked again. “You’re close friends with Nesta. You’re part of the Inner Circle. You have a guest room there, but I haven’t seen you at the house.”

“Do you even spend enough time at the River House to know?”

“Yes.”

Gwyn sighed and straightened up, folding her legs neatly beneath her on the bed. “Some… Some things happened a couple years ago. I won’t bore you with the details and I don’t know if I even have the right to tell you everything, but it’s colored the way the Inner Circle works now.”

“The details are the most important part,” you murmured, “I wish I had more details. Then maybe I wouldn’t feel like such a stranger in that house.”

“You’re not a stranger,” Gwyn reassured you. “Is that why you spend so much time here?” she asked with genuine curiosity.

“Yes and no. It feels closer to home here. Even if your lack of organization has made my job ten times more difficult. I don’t see why you haven’t adopted any kind of classification system. It’s a small library. It would be very easy to implement.” You sighed and rubbed your eyes. Gods, you were tired. The feeling came and went in waves. “I shouldn’t complain though, everyone has been incredibly kind and welcoming. Especially Azriel.”

You wrapped your arms around yourself, fingers fluttering against your shoulders. You tucked your chin into your elbows and tried not to think about that glorious night of sleep with only Azriel and his shadows. Waking up with his chest rising and falling on the floor beside you.

You were falling for him and you knew it. Gods did you know it. Or maybe you could convince yourself you weren’t falling yet, but it was a steady march to the cliff’s edge and you weren’t stopping anytime soon.

Gwyn felt her heart stutter. “Oh? He’s usually so… quiet and… reserved.”

You thought about it for a long while.

“I don’t think he’s nearly as quiet as everyone believes him to be,” you said thoughtfully, “I think he just speaks in his own way.”

You were right about Godswood and The Gallows.

The letter arrived on your desk early in the morning.

The Bookkeeper, Taunum Hyst, was found trying to burn books in the western greenwoods along with some texts from Argot’s. He fought back against the guards sent to retrieve him, but he didn’t know what he was doing. Even now he’s confused and adamant that the last three weeks have been a blur. There’s a daemati at work here. Someone other than Henna. Rhysand knows, if he hasn’t already told you.

I’ve sent a translated folktale in old Bauldish and Common, and another in Demnyon along with the others you asked for. They might be worth looking into to help with the book. I hope you’re enjoying your stay at the Night Court. Happy hunting and stay safe.

~ Helion

You were right.

You dropped the letter, hands coming up to your mouth as you took in a deep, shaky breath. You knew Taunum Hyst. You could picture his salt-grey braids and coal-black skin. He’d helped perform the funeral rites for your mother. Hell he’d managed to make you laugh that terrible day.

Your stomach turned. If there truly was another daemati left in the Day Court that could help explain the killings. Either the Librarians could have died trying to keep the knowledge in their minds safe, or the daemati had made them kill themselves before moving onto their next victim. You didn’t know which was more tragic.

The clock rang eleven bells and you hastily folded up the paper, dropping it into the box along with the rest of your father’s letters.

“I think this might be the first time you’ve ever been late,” Rhysand said with an amused smirk. He leaned against the doorway to his office, ankles crossed over one another. Did that male ever stand normally?

“It is the first time.”

“Of course you would know that.”

You smirked, pushing open the door to find—

“Azriel?”

The Shadowsinger stood with his hands neatly folded behind his back. “Y/n?”

“Cassian!” The Lord of Bloodshed leapt in front of his brother, arms spread wide. “I’m also here. Nesta couldn’t make it with Valkyrie training.”

Feyre rolled her eyes with affection. She reached for Rhysand’s hand without thinking and he accepted with barely a glance. They were two magnets, always pulled towards one another in space.

“What’s going on?” You glanced back and forth between them all. It had always been just you and Rhysand during these lessons.

“I thought it would be good to start practicing with other people when it comes to physical touch,” Rhysand explained. Azriel’s nostrils flared. “You’re getting comfortable with me, which I’m happy about. But I want you to get comfortable with everyone else too.”

You told me you wanted another debrief about the Mortal Lands. Azriel was loath to admit that just the thought of touching your hand was making his heart race like a schoolboy.

And I do. Rhysand said rather smugly, as if he already knew Azriel was freaking out inside. But I also know you wouldn’t have agreed to this if I asked you ahead of time. It’s amusing to see you like this, brother. Have you forgotten how to touch a female? His violet eyes glittered with mischief.

Azriel swallowed, eyes trained on you as you mulled over Rhysand’s comment and nodded. You wanted to be comfortable too. Comfortable in your body. Comfortable with other people touching you.

You thought of what it might feel like to have Azriel’s hand tucked beneath your chin, not just his shadows, and shivered.

Azriel nearly choked when you started undoing the ties of your robes. The gold embroidered fabric slipped off your shoulders in a soft hush that had Azriel going rigid. You wore traditional Night Court fashion beneath your Librarian robes — a tight black shirt revealed the gentle curves of your arms, the cut of your collarbones against your chest, the thin band of flesh around your stomach; a breezy skirt with slits cut into the sides that revealed flashes of your thighs with every movement you made.

Feyre, Rhysand, and Cassian all shared looks, nearly bursting out laughing at the way Azriel’s shadows were in flight around him. A swarm of bees buzzing and murmuring about how beautiful you looked.

Azriel had seen many fae in his time in various states of undress. He’d seen males and females in the Court of Nightmares parade about in scraps of silk and lace. He’d taken countless lovers to bed. Bodies were something he knew well. Something he knew intimately. But he had never felt so flustered as he did looking at you like this. He thought his heart might just burst in his chest.

Cassian elbowed Azriel in the ribs when you weren’t looking and one of Azriel’s shadows looped around his ponytail and pulled.

“Ow.” Cassian rubbed the back of his head with a grin. “Rude.”

You felt rather ridiculous standing in the center of the room with your arms and legs stretched out to the side.

“Right arm,” Rhysand called out.

Cassian bounced back and forth on the balls of his feet, fists held loose by his sides with the lightness of a male a quarter of his size.

You squinted. Is he… is he about to punch me?

Cassian read the alarm on your face and grinned, hitting you with a tap gentler than rainfall.

You snorted, but felt nothing. Perfect.

You had to be grateful for Cassian’s light-heartedness. He had the worry melting off your shoulders. With every limb that Rhys called out, Cassian would do a little dance before punching you or kicking you. At one point he even faked a blow to your face, spinning up to you before leaping into the air and shooting out his right leg. You didn’t flinch as his boot swung an inch away from your face. You could smell the rubber soles of his boots.

“You missed,” you teased.

Cassian pouted, turning around to walk back to the wall now that he was finished with his piece. Azriel looked ready to tear his head off his body.

You’re lucky you missed. Azriel’s eyes screamed across the room. You’d be a dead man if you hurt her.

Cassian winked and blew him a kiss.

Feyre was next. You practiced brushing against her like you would do in a crowded street complete with the obligatory fumbling of apologies.

“Oh good heavens.” Feyre fanned her face like the old, upper-class women in her village used to do and laid on that sickly sweet accent they all had. “I’m so dreadfully sorry.” — They never were.

She shook your hand and touched your shoulders and looped her arm around your waist. That was the part that had you worried. You slid your power away from every inch of your skin, wrapped it up like a secret, and held it deepin your chest.

“Good.” Rhysand smiled and Cassian punched the air.

You breathed deeply and gave a small bow like you’d just finished a performance. But there was still one person you were meant to touch today, and they made you the most nervous of all.

Azriel stepped forward, a picture of calm. Inside, he was raging like a storm. He kept his hands firmly grasped behind his back, wings pressed so tightly he felt his shoulders start to ache.

You took a step forward as well, tilting your head back to look at him. You felt the grip on your power falter when he held out his hand palm up like he was asking you for a dance. Months ago at the Summer Solstice ball you’d been approached by a number of males hoping for a song with their hands at your waist and at your shoulder. The prospect of that kind of touch had terrified you then, and it still terrified you now but for different reasons. Because this time, you wanted it.

You wanted him.

You gently slid your hand into his, feeling the scars roll beneath your soft skin like the mountains that surrounded Velaris. Your breath caught in your throat, but before Azriel could rip his hand away you held on and squeezed reassuringly.

You’d read hundreds, if not thousands, of romance novels in your time. You’d consumed them with a ravenous hunger, surviving on them when real touch felt like a hopeless dream and the loneliness became too much to bear. And in nearly every single one of them, the first touch between lovers was described as an explosion of color. A dangerous shaking of the world down to its foundations. A cataclysmic event.

But you were surprised to find that they were wrong. They were all wrong. Azriel wasn’t destroying anything. He was mending.

It felt like a re-centering. The shifting of a leaning tower so it stood upright again.

A blissful silence.

Azriel cradled your hand in his, thumbs smoothing over your knuckles. He couldn’t help what he did next, couldn’t have stopped himself even if Helion stood at his back with murder in his eyes.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your hand with such reverence, such tenderness, that you swore your heart was glowing in your chest.

“Why don’t you try a hug, Y/n?” Rhysand suggested when Azriel had straightened. “If you want.”

You looked down at your feet where shadows swarmed, and then up at Azriel.

“What do you say, Y/n?” Azriel murmured softly. His words were for you and you only. “Where would you have me touch you?” His hazel eyes caught the light before scattering into a thousand brilliant colors.

Wordlessly you ran your fingers down his arms, tracing the shape of the muscle beneath the leather. You held his hands and gently led them up to your waist, gasping when he made contact. His warm fingers brushed the exposed skin of your waist before sliding around to your back.

You balanced on the tips of your toes, looping your arms around his neck before resting your face in the hollow between his neck and shoulder. He smelled like leather and the mountains. Wind and rain and nightfall coalescing into something so uniquely him you could pick him out in a room of thousands with your eyes closed.

It started out as a loose, misshapen thing, your hands and his arms searching for the right grip to hold your bodies together. But once you found it, you were lost.

Azriel wrapped his arms around your back and waist, hands splayed out like he was absorbing you into him. And you were no better. You buried your face in his neck, lips pressed up against the curve of his throat so you could feel the rhythmic rush of blood through his veins.

He refused to be the first to let go. The roof could cave in. The floor could drop out from beneath your feet. He would not let you go.

Your tears started out slow, coupled by ragged, shallow breaths.

“I’ve got you, Y/n,” Azriel whispered. “I’ve got you.”

How long had it been since you’d been held like this? A hundred years? Two hundred? You thought you’d learned to live without it, but now that it was yours you didn’t think you’d ever, ever be able to give it up. You were at the cliff’s edge now and without an ounce of hesitation you flung yourself over and into the abyss.

With Azriel, controlling your powers didn’t seem like such a difficult thing. Later that evening when you lay in bed staring up at the ceiling, you realized you hadn’t been thinking of control at all.

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

______________

Author's Note:

Y'all... THEY FINALLY TOUCHED EACH OTHER! And not only that, BUT HE KISSED HER HAND!!! And! They fucking HUGGED!!!!

#azriel x reader #azriel x reader slow burn #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #the shadowsinger and the inkbird

666 notes · View notes

bratbby333 · 2 months

Text

jjk camp counselor au

nsfw brain dump, multiple x reader feat: satoru, suguru, nanami, toji, sukuna, shoko + choso summary: you're a camp counselor trying to make the most of your summer

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

satoru would definitely be the one to lead the rallies each morning, he's so charismatic and domineering. he'd also be in charge of the 15-17 year old group (obvi). he'll blatantly flirt with the other female counselors in front of you to make you jealous, sneaking away to the woods while the kids are eating lunch to apologize to you while balls deep inside you...summer fling energy fr

"i-im sorry...promise...it was nothin...meant n-nothing 't me" he pants out, seeing the irritated look on your face as you glare at him from over your shoulder, arms bracing your body against a tree, your jean shorts down by your ankles, panties shoved to the side. "shut up and keep fucking me, satoru," you roll your eyes in response. "show me how sorry you are," your demanding voice wavering slightly, stifling your moans so he doesn't know how good it feels, trying to keep up your annoyed facade. but god does he feel amazing, his tip stimulating your sweet spot with every stroke. he fucks you so much better when he thinks he's in trouble...he's a whining, whimpering mess for you power bottom!gojo supremacy

suguru is most definitely the chill instructor, leading the more creative activities; arts n crafts like tie-dye, making jewelry, etc. all the kids love him, too. he'd beam with pride as they run up to him to show him what they were able to create. he'd profess his feelings for you with a handmade, beaded bracelet.

you sneak out of the women's cabin in the middle of the night to meet up with suguru, finding him sat on the crest of a hill with a blanket laid out to watch the stars "suguru...this is precious," you gasp, eyes bright with adoration, taking a seat next time him, your legs kicked out in front of you and your arms propping you up. - "what about the kids? what if they see us?" you ask, concern plastered across your face, your legs wrapped around his waist, hands secured behind his neck, fingers tangling in his long hair. "don't worry, love," he breaths out, pausing his strokes, his strong arms positioned on either side of your head, "nanami's watching mine and shoko's watching over yours...plus we're so far from camp, no one's gonna see us", he reassures you with his pelvis flush against your core. "you just look so beautiful like this, i couldn't resist" he'd moan out, returning to his initial pace, thrusting deep and slow, the blanket he had laid out now disheveled. the moonlight bounces off your skin in the most ethereal way, and suguru can't get enough of you.

nanami would be in charge of the whole camp, carefully organizing everyone's permission slips, allergy forms and medical records (which were alphabetized and given to shoko), the payments from parents, the whole nine yards; ensuring everything ran smoothly. he would also be the one supervising the obstacle courses. he'd carefully and methodically strap the kids into their harnesses, surveying everyone intently...do you really think he'd trust the other dummies he works with to do so?

and of course he'd find a way to repurpose the harnesses as restraints in the privacy of the men's cabin with you, the two of you slipping away during one of satoru's overly energetic pep rallies. "ken...what if someone catches us?" you moan out, your arms secured behind you, your back arched, and your chest pressed against the mattress. his deep, purposeful strokes continue, his voice steady as he repsonds. "don't worry, love. we made the mistake of giving satoru the mic, he'll talk for hours if you let him...now hush and let me take care of you, yeah?" you nod back before moaning loudly, the depth of his cock in this position is hitting spots you didn't know existed. "you're taking me so well. such a good girl for me," he groans out, his trust speeding up, the sounds you're making for him spurring him on.

toji would be in charge of the more physical intramurals; dodgeball, kickball, archery, and life guard on duty for the water activities.

and god did he look good while patrolling the waters, his broad shoulders and tanned skin glowing under the summer sun, his wet swim trunks clinging to his thick, muscular thighs. you watch him from your beach chair, legs clenching and core pulsing at the sight of his sternly focused face, his eyes running up and down the lake, his body glistening from the droplets of water trickling from his damp hair. you're glad shoko is more attentive with the kids because your mind is elsewhere (and for a valid reason, too). - after the kids are sent to get changed into their dry clothes, he absolutely obliterates you in the boat house. "saw you watchin' me the whole time...this what you needed, love?" he'd ask through gritted teeth, his thrusts hard and deep, his thick cock stretching you out perfectly. you whimper in response, eyes low, mouth agape, nodding profusely as his fingers dig deeper into your hipbones. "uh huh..needed you so bad, toji," you whine out. baywatch!toji has me putting my fist in my mouth

sukuna would not get hired because the organizers were afraid that he'd try to create a child army and illicit a rebellion to overthrow the camp counsellors, creating a dystopian society where the kids tend to the land and run his errands for him. bummer... ruined his summer plans.

shoko helps you run the girl's cabin. she also works the first aid tent during the day, her long hair tied back to keep her cool. you lean up against a tree, admiring her beauty. you're pulled from your daydream when gojo elbows you in the side, shooting you an amused look; "go make a move, she likes women, ya know?" wiggling his eyebrows at you before running off to frolic in the water with his group.

the two of you sneak away during the bonfire, finding yourself in her bunk, laid on your back with her soft tongue attacking your clit. "sho, i'm close," you gasp out, your hands tangling in her auburn hair. she hums in response, the vibrations pushing you even closer to your release. you cry out for her, the pleasure coursing through you is overwhelming your senses. she uses one hand to cover your mouth, the other swipes between your folds before inserting two finger into your dripping cunt, curling slightly to massage your g-spot. your hips buck against her mouth, before you spill all over her tongue from the added stimulation. as you try to regain your breath, she leans over you and places two fingers against your neck. you gaze up at her through dazed eyes, shooting her a questioning look. "just checkin' your pulse, thought i was losin' you," she laughs.

choso takes his job very seriously, basically a helicopter parent while watching the kids...he's so protective of the children, treating them as if they were his own siblings. he stops dead in his tracks when he first lays eyes on you, watching you interact with your group; you are so sweet with your kids, tenderhearted and caring...he falls in love almost immediately and all he wants is to get close to you.

his soft, slow strokes make you giggle into his ear. everyone's in the mess hall for dinner, leaving the cabin empty, the once silent building now filled with your moans. "cho, you can be rougher with me," you sigh out, pulling him deeper into you, groaning at the stretch of his fully engulfed member. he buries his head into the crook of your neck, a long moan leaving his parted lips as he bottoms out against you. his cheeks flush to a bright red...you swear you can feel the heat emanating off them. "i know...jus' scared i'll cum fast if i go harder...you're just so pretty...so fuckin' sweet, angel," he whimpers out. he paws at every inch of you, his strokes getting more frantic, kissing your cheeks delicately and whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

author notes: this made me giggle so much while writing. i love doing short form AUs, theyre so entertaining to me. sorry about sukuna's i was feeling unhinged when i wrote it

if u have any requests, feel free to send them my way! here's the link to my inbox ☺︎ leave an emoji if you want to be added to my anon club, or send it with your url and i'll credit you!

i really liked this idea and im considering making it a longer story, but i only wanna focus on one character x reader...leave a comment with who you'd want it to be with! (counselor!gojo is calling to me, but what do y'all think?)

thank you all for your love and support on my work...i literally tear up when i get the notifications. i'm so honored that y'all find my writing enjoyable enough to interact ❤︎

541 notes · View notes

takecareluv · 10 months

Text

꒰ how to feel like a princess this summer ꒱ؘ ࿔*:･ﾟ

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ you don't need a castle, a fairy godmother or a team of helpful little mice to make you feel like a princess in your day to day life. all you need is your sweetest, most confident self and you are good to go .ᐟ here are a few tips & fun activities to do by yourself ( because a princess always enjoys their own company ! ) or with a friend, whether it's the furry kind or a fellow princess.

✧ ˖ ° ₊ ⊹ : ˚ ೀ ⋆

⨾ first things first, while a princess loves to spend their days frolicking in nature and soaking up the sun, they always protect their skin using spf. so whatever adventures you decide to take on this summer ( and all year round ) , be tedious about applying sunscreen. i promise, your future self will thank you for it.ᐟ

⨾ princesses have a natural glow about them. whether it be from the graceful manner in which they carry themselves, their beautiful smile that lights up a room, or the radiance of their skin - a princess takes care of themself, inside and out. so, to feel like one, be sure to prioritize self care & self love. create a skincare routine that works for you. keep a rose water spray with you for a quick refresh throughout the day. wear light, glowy makeup like cream blush, a lip tint, and a good mascara to emphasize those doe eyes. and find a signature scent people will remember you by.

⨾ wearing soft and light fabrics - like lace and linen - will keep you as cool as possible, while also feeling cute during these hot summer months. whether it's flowing dresses or light linen pants ; sandals or sneakers ; florals & pastels to more natural, earthy tones - wear whatever makes your inner princess shine .ᐟ

⤷ plus, adding little accessories such as frilly socks, ribbons, pearls and other dainty jewelry can be a fun, but simple way to add an extra bit of delicacy to your day to day look.

⨾ try putting your hair up in loose styles - such as a braid - or keep it down and flowing with beautiful, bouncy curls. and again, the simplest style can be elevated to 'princess level' with little details like decorating your hair with flowers, butterfly clips or a headband; tying ribbons and bows into your up-do, or even adding a satin scarf.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ જ⁀➴

✿. summer can be the perfect time to find a new passion, or perhaps reignite an old one .ᐟ for example : taking up a language , learning about greek mythology , writing & reading poetry , learning to sew or crochet , or learning to play an instrument ( piano, flute, violin, etc. ) - there are so many different hobbies to try this season.

⤷ and even better, with the warm weather, you can do them all outside surrounded by the beauty of nature - birds chirping in the distance, a gentle breeze dancing through the trees, and the sun shining down on you.

✿. like i mentioned earlier, a princess's best friend is mother nature. they love to spend time engaging with any and all of nature's elements. here are some ways you can do the same . . .

✿. start your very own garden .ᐟ

whether it be filled with an assortment of vibrant flowers, or even a mix of fruits, veggies and herbs, a garden is a perfect way to create a serene and magical place to spend your summer days. you can even add a chair or maybe lay out a blanket for a quiet little reading spot. plus. . . with a garden in your midst, you can pick as many flowers as you'd like to create your own bouquets or make flower crowns for yourself and friends .ᐟ ⤷ filling your space with flowers will definitely make you feel like you are living in a fairytale 𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒

✿. visit a farmer's market or go berry picking .ᐟ

🍓 picking your own strawberries, blueberries, or any other fresh fruit & veggies can be a cute way to stock your fridge and find the ingredients for your next recipe. 🫐 baking is another great hobby to pick up - especially for during those stormy summer days you have to stay inside. breads, muffins, cakes, and jams - there's so many things you can make using the fruit you hand picked; and an added bonus, it will keep your kitchen smelling super yummy .ᐟ

✿. have a picnic .ᐟ

take yourself on a date or round up a group of friends for a picnic at the park or on the beach. you can pack a basket of macarons, sparkling cider, and any of your other favorite treats ; find the perfect spot to lay your blanket, and maybe even bring some reading material or a journal to write in .ᐟ

✿. feed the ducks .ᐟ

if you have a pond nearby, you can take a walk & bring something to feed the duckies, turtles, or any of the other sweet creatures swimming around in there. if not, you can also make homemade bird food and treat those hungry little birdies singing outside your house every day. it could also be fun to take a trip to a local farm or petting zoo and feed some animals that way .ᐟ ⤷ if you do any of these things, please remember to do your research on what foods are good for our little friends, be respectful, and clean up after yourself. princesses don’t litter .ᐟ

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ જ⁀➴

if the sun is not shining or you are looking for other ways to spend time like a princess, here are a few more ideas to add to your summer bucket list. . .

ᥫ᭡. take a trip to a museum and wander its halls, admiring the magnificent artwork in all its beauty.

ᥫ᭡. visit your local library or bookstore and spend the day picking out your next read.

ᥫ᭡. play dress up with your closest friends and have a tea party.

ᥫ᭡. try painting pottery. you could even paint & personalize your very own tea cup or jewelry box .ᐟ

ᥫ᭡. send a handwritten letter to a loved one or a pen pal. and while you’re add it, you can get some practice writing in cursive .ᐟ

ᥫ᭡. pamper yourself a little extra with a bubble bath - adding in rose petals, filling the bathroom with candles, and treating yourself to a plentiful amount of ladurée macarons - in good ole blair waldorf fashion.

࿐a princess always walks with their head held high. they know what makes them feel like their most confident self, and they don't shy away from it by trying to be anyone else. with that being said, always be your true, and authentic self - don't change just to fit a certain 'aesthetic' - take what you like from it, and leave the rest. it is important to do & wear whatever makes you feel comfortable, because in turn you will also feel your most beautiful - as a princess always should .ᐟ

xoxo, meg ♡

221 notes · View notes

harry-on-broadway · 8 months

Text

Loving You Always: A Tying You to Me Extra

Word Count: 5.8K || Series Masterlist || Rating: M

***

It was the countdown Quinn noticed first. One of those widgets you could add to the home screen of your phone. There wasn’t a picture or description, but 34 days were left when she first saw it and she quickly tried to calculate what the date could mean.

It wasn’t the end of Harry’s tour and the date didn’t correspond to any notable birthdays or anniversaries. Unless it was something new Harry had up his sleeve, she had no clue what it could be.

“Big plans for the summer?” Quinn tried hard to sound casual when she brought it up later that night. Harry was chopping vegetables for a stir-fry as she heated oil in the pan. He paused, a thoughtful smirk on his face, and Quinn could almost hear the wheels spinning in his head as he thought of a sarcastic retort.

“Well, I’m just making a quick trip over a castle in a couple of days. Have a few more shows here and there but nothing too exciting.” He looked up from the cutting board and flashed her his trademark grin.

“Nothing else though. No other shows? No filming or fashion things? Like say in 34 days?” Harry’s eyes were back on the vegetables, and at the mention of the date, his hand slipped, the knife nicking the tip of his finger.

“Shit.”

“Oh, Harry.” Quinn spun around behind her grabbing a clean paper towel, doubling it over before pressing it against the small cut. “Hold that there,” she said, turning back to toss some of the cut vegetables into the pan. “Is it still bleeding?”.

“No, it wasn’t too bad. Just startled me more than anything. But that’s what I get for letting you distract me.”

“I distracted you?”

“Yeah, you’re interrogating me when I’m chopping vegetables,” Harry teased.

“Your hand slipped. I’m sorry, but how is that my fault???”

“You’re getting all in my business asking weirdly specific questions that make no sense.”

Quinn flushed, feeling only slightly guilty that she’d been so nosy. “I’m just trying to…plan some things out.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“I don’t know, lunch?”

“You want to plan a lunch…34 days from now.”

“Yeah.” Quinn held his gaze, unrelenting.

“You’re something else woman.” He shook his head, the grin never leaving his face. “Inflicting pain on your poor boyfriend, on his well deserved day off. Keep this up and we’ll see if I get you a rin–” Harry blanched, and then cleared his throat. “But, uh, to answer your question, it’s a work meeting that I can’t miss so I’ll have to pass on lunch that day.”

“With Columbia?” The words came out faster than Quinn intended, as she tried to process the words that had almost come out of Harry’s mouth.

“Yeah.” Harry looked at his finger. “Looks like it’s not a serious wound. I’m going to wash up and then I can chop some more if you need it.”

“That would be great.” Quinn’s voice sounded strange to her own ears. “I think we might need more broccoli and carrots.” She went back to pushing vegetables around the pan, paying careful attention and trying to distract herself from the thoughts currently racing through her mind.

The countdown was the furthest thing from her mind as she fixated and the single word Harry had almost said – ring.

Rings had been top of mind since he’d given her that trinket after Christmas. While it mostly lived upstairs in the jewelry tray he’d made for her, Quinn had been known to pick it up and put on her left ring finger when she was alone, savoring the physical and symbolic weight of it and praying that a real one would be coming soon.

Harry returned to her side, chopping and tossing a few more veggies into the pan before pulling dishes from the cabinet. He made no mention of his earlier remark while they ate and it didn’t come up as they cleaned up the kitchen or watched a film after dinner. In fact, Quinn had nearly forgotten about it by the time they were getting ready for bed, until she saw Harry fidgeting with his phone.

She almost brought it up again, wanting to investigate further, but thought better of the impulse. Harry didn’t take kindly to prying and, after more than six years, she knew the best way to get him to open up was to let him come to her. When he climbed out of bed to fill his glass of water she snuck one glance at his phone and saw that the countdown had disappeared.

“Lights out?” Harry asked, standing by the switch.

“Mmhmm,” Quinn said, flicking on her bedside lamp. She opened up her book and watched Harry over top of the pages. He was nonchalant, shuffling across the room, climbing under the covers, and giving her a kiss before turning onto his side and quickly falling asleep.

Quinn turned a few pages not retaining any of the words. Maybe Harry’s slip of the tongue earlier meant nothing, but as she turned off her light and curled up next to Harry, thoughts of rings, dresses, and weddings danced through her head.

***

“Jeff, have you seen my parents?” Quinn asked. She’d been doing laps backstage for the last hour and hadn’t managed to locate them. Seeing as this was only their second time at Wembley, she was slightly concerned.

“Can’t say I have,” Jeff said. “Tommy, have you seen them?” Tommy shook his head and went back to his ongoing conversation. “Sorry, Quinn, Maybe they went out to their seats?”

“Maybe…” Quinn said, unconvinced. “Thanks.”

She headed towards the exit of the room that served as the main hub backstage, preparing to do another lap when she saw her mom, dad, and brother, Alex, being led towards her, escorted by Harry.

“Oh my God, where were you guys? I’ve been looking all over for you!” Quinn exclaimed, trying not to sound as concerned as she felt. “Did you get lost?”

“I’ll have you know we knew exactly where we were going,” her mother chided. “Harry was giving us a backstage tour, dear. No need to worry.”

“I could have done that, Mom. Harry’s busy. He’s supposed to be onstage in…” She glanced at her watch. “Like 45 minutes.”

“It was no problem,” Harry said cheerfully. “Nice way for me to calm the nerves before the show.”

“If you say so…” Quinn glanced at her father, hoping to get him on her side, but instead saw a weird mix of emotions across his face. “Dad, are you alright?”

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, just a bit overwhelmed. You see the stadium on TV and it doesn’t look that big but in person…” He took a deep, shuddering breath.

Quinn shot Harry a look, silently seeking an answer from him, only getting a shrug in return.

“As Quinn so kindly reminded me, I should probably head off and start getting ready,” Harry said apologetically. “But make yourself at home and I’ll see you all later.” He planted a pert kiss on Quinn’s temple and made his way to his dressing room.

Quinn’s father sniffed and blinked rapidly as her mother cheerfully patted his back. Quinn looked over at Alex who, just like Harry, shrugged.

“Well,” Quinn said. “I guess we can go to the green room and maybe grab some food? I think Anne and some of Harry’s family are already there.”

Quinn’s parents set off in the direction she pointed and instead of following them, she hung a few steps back, pulling her brother alongside her.

“What the hell is wrong with Dad?” she whispered.

“How am I supposed to know? You know how weird he gets when he’s jet-lagged.”

Quinn stared at Alex. Something was wrong and she hoped it had nothing to do with Harry. He’d met her parents on numerous occasions, joined in on phone calls and Zooms, and even made an appearance at Christmas one year. As great as that was, the unfortunate fact was that it didn’t feel like nearly enough time, and a small part of her wondered if her parents resented that they didn’t get to see her or Harry as often as they should. Her parents had never expressed any reservations, but maybe something had happened.

Alex continued to walk behind their parents but Quinn grabbed his arm pulling him back. “What went wrong on the tour?”

He pursed his lips and looked thoughtful before shaking his head. “Nothing I can think of.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

Quinn looked defeated. She didn’t know why but she thought her dad’s weird behavior could be connected to whatever weirdness she’d seen on Harry’s phone, but she remained answerless and even more confused. “Well, if something does happen, you’ve got to let me know.”

Alex nodded and they started walking to catch up to her parents. After a moment, he spoke up. “I’m not sure if I’ve ever told you this, Quinn, but I really like Harry. Like obviously no one is ever going to be good enough for you, but he’s a decent guy. And I’m not just saying that because we got a free trip to London because of him.”

“Oh, well that’s good to know.”

“I’m serious, Quinn. He’s exactly the kind of person you deserve to be with and I hope you see that.”

Quinn stared blankly. She and her brother were close, but they weren’t close in the share-your-feelings-all-of-the-time way. “Thank you,” she replied cautiously. “Um, I’m pretty fond of Harry myself.”

Alex chuckled. “Funny you say that. Harry said the exact same thing.”

“What?”

“Yeah, you two are really meant to be.” Her brother quickened his pace leaving Quinn behind, stunned.

That night as Quinn brushed her teeth she watched Harry in the mirror. He was snuggled beneath the comforter, having showered before they left the venue. His curls were untamed, the clip that usually held them back discarded on the nightstand by his glasses as he squinted at the paperback book in his hand, a sure sign that he was more tired than he was letting on.

She formulated her plan as she rinsed her mouth.

“Big day today, huh?”

“Yeah.” Harry sighed thoughtfully. “I don’t think I’ve fully processed it.”

“Mmm, yeah.” Quinn rubbed some lotion onto her hands, trying her best to appear nonchalant. “My parents were raving about how amazing you were and how incredible the venue was. Did they mention anything to you when you gave them that tour?”

If she’d have blinked she would have missed it, but Harry stiffened, his relaxed posture vanishing for a split second before he recovered. “No, they didn’t say anything like that. Your dad was just hung up on how everything’s backwards here.”

“Yeah, that does throw him. Nothing else?”

“Nope.”

Dammit. She’d thought she’d figured it out but was back at square one.

“Love, not trying to rush but how much longer are you going be? I think I’m ready to head to bed.”

She met Harry’s sleepy, tired eyes in the mirror and instantly forgot about her hidden agenda. “I’ll be in in a sec, baby.”

***

The day had finally come. The final show of the tour.

Quinn wasn’t sure she’d ever see this day. Over the past two years, the concerts had been a permanent fixture of her life and she measured time in relation to them, able to rattle off exactly what she’d been doing if you named a city and date. And now it was all over.

It was the perfect night. The weather had miraculously cleared up despite a scorching, stormy morning and the crowd was even more energized than usual. She’d had a good idea of what the night had in store, thanks to Harry’s nervous chatter, and when Harry finally emerged onstage for one last time, she’d been able to relax and cut loose, jumping and dancing around the pit with the rest of his family and friends, singing at the top of her lungs.

The one surprise of the evening was when Harry returned to the stage and sat down at the piano. He started playing a melody that sounded familiar, something she’d heard echoing through the halls of the house when he couldn’t sleep. A version of the melody that she’d heard nearly every morning he was home, seated at the piano coffee in hand, playing as he rubbed sleep from his eyes. She finally had her answer now as to what it was for and she wiped tears from her cheeks as she listened to him play what was clearly a very personal piece for the nearly silent crowd.

As she made her way backstage, trailing behind the larger group, she felt…weird. Happy but sad, excited but scared. Tomorrow would be the start of her “normal” life with Harry. No tours, no odd work hours, no time zones keeping them from each other. It was everything she’d dreamed of, so why was she so apprehensive? This break was a good thing. Harry had accomplished more than he’d ever imagined, and after a nice, well-deserved break, he’d be onto his next chapter, personally and professionally.

While they hadn’t explicitly discussed what would happen between them after this leg of the tour had ended, they’d occasionally danced around the subject. Like on those nights in between shows when they’d found themselves tangled with each other in bed and the connection felt next level, when she felt Harry murmuring secrets only he could understand against her skin. Or the unspoken words that passed between them when she’d let go of his hand and his fingers would linger just a little too long before letting her go.

They were heading towards…something. She just didn’t know what or when or how. But they’d get there.

Back in the present Quinn gnawed at her lip, trying to fight back the tears. It had been easy to hide them throughout the day as she’d all but avoided Harry, giving him the space he needed to mentally prepare himself for what was about to happen. He’d been emotional all week and she wanted to be a solid support for him at this time, which meant limited tears of her own. Sure that her eyes were dry, she gave three quiet knocks on the door, and waited for Harry’s soft response before turning the knob.

He was sitting on the sofa, shirtless with his head in his hands. His hair was damp and the air was thick with humidity from the shower he’d just taken. The ends of his hair dripped down the towel draped over his back. He looked up, hearing her footsteps, and ran his hand through his hair sending more droplets down his broad back. He opened his arms, and Quinn slipped onto his lap, looping one arm around his neck and using the other to tilt his chin up.

“You did it, baby,” Quinn said. They were alone in the dressing room but she still spoke softly. “You did it.”

“I did,” Harry said simply. “It’s done.”

“And you should be so proud,” Quinn whispered against his lips, before kissing him.

“Still hasn’t sunk in yet,” Harry said hollowly. “Feels like I’m going to be back on the road tonight heading to the next stop. Feels weird to just…be.”

“I need you to listen to me, H. Two years is a long time and you’ve given so much good to the world in that time. You’ve brought joy and happiness and love and peace to millions of people and you’re going to continue to do that for years to come. But now’s your time to rest, to do something for yourself. You’re allowed to relax.”

Harry looked up, a fresh set of tears welling in his eyes. “What the hell did I do to deserve you?” he choked out. Quinn tried to wipe the tears from his face, but her vision soon blurred with her own as they sat there crying in each other’s arms. “Thank you for always being there for me and for letting me be exactly who I need to be. I love you in ways I can’t describe. I–” He swallowed and looked like he was about to say something else, but a new sob wracked his body.

“It’s OK, Harry. I love you too,” Quinn whispered, kissing his cheek and his forehead and his jaw before landing on his lips again. “Do you need a minute by yourself before we join everyone else?”

Harry cleared his throat. “Yeah. Let me pull myself together and throw some clothes on.” Quinn busied herself on her phone as Harry dressed and stowed his towel in the laundry basket. A few moments later, she felt his hand on the small of her back. He raised an eyebrow in a silent question and Quinn nodded.

He held the door open for her and when he exited behind her. He took one last look around before sighing heavily. “Let’s go,” he said. “I’ve got a bottle of tequila with my name on it.”

Tequila and spirits of all sorts flowed at the afterparty, a gathering filled with Harry’s family and closest friends who had flown in for the occasion. Everyone was fighting for a moment with him, a chance to say how proud they were, how incredible the night was, all statements that brought out his bashful side. His cheeks growing red and his eyes watery as he sucked in his cheeks and tried to keep the tears from falling.

Quinn kept a respectful distance, following closely, but not intruding on his space. He’d been unusually clingy since they’d left the show, holding onto her tightly, and not letting go until she’d urged him to catch up with his friends. She could tell he was reluctant and he kept looking over towards her, and with each glance she’d give him a nod of encouragement, letting him know that it was OK to follow his own advice. To rest and have fun.

As the night wore on, Harry grew more comfortable and compliments were traded for drinks, everyone around him offering him shots or glasses of different colored liquids. Quinn was still hovering, but was caught up in her own reverie celebrating with the group that had become an extension of her family as well over the past two years.

When the sun began to rise and the party started to end, Quinn felt a pair of hands on her hips. Without turning around, she knew it was Harry, able to recognize him by the feel of his hands after all these years. “I guess we should maybe head out?” he whispered against the shell of her ear. “Head home?”

Home aka their villa they’d be spending the next few weeks in. Anne and the rest of the family had made their way over earlier in the evening, and were planning to stay for a brief, post-tour vacation as well.

Harry slung his arm around Quinn and they watched the sun come up on the horizon. He let out a shaky breath, and without looking, Quinn knew he was crying again.

“I wish I could bottle this moment,” he said. “Don’t ever want to forget it.”

“You won’t. And the best part is that you’ll make many more memories down the road.”

“I mean, this, now with you.”

Quinn looked at him puzzled. “Well, we’re going to have more memories again too. Unless you’re also planning to dump me at the end of this tour.”

Harry laughed, a short chuckle at first followed by a heartier bellow. “Fuck,” he said when the laughter had abated. “It’s hard to believe that’s what happened the last time a tour ended.”

“Would you like me to book my ticket back now or later?”

“Hate to break it to you love but you’re stuck with me.”

“Oooh, really?”

“Yeah, and I’ve got some big plans for us.”

“Is that so?”

“Mmmhmm,” Harry said. “We’re going to take a nap. A nice long one. Maybe a couple a day.”

“Go on…”

“Sex. Can’t forget that.”

“Of course.”

“Some fine dining. My own recipes and some restaurants.”

“Can’t wait.”

“Pool time, walks by the beach, heading into town to go to the museums. We’re going to do it all.” He planted a kiss on her temple.

“I want to do everything with you, H.”

“I want to do everything with you, Agent Q.”

Quinn felt a flutter in her chest. Harry’s use of that first nickname he’d given her had grown less frequent over the years in favor of more romantic or even cheesier ones. But that callback to their start had her filled with love and affection.

“Car’s here,” Harry said. “After you.” He opened the door and let Quinn slide in, pulling the door shut after him.

Harry chatted pleasantly with the driver in Italian, and Quinn felt the flutter in her chest travel down her body. Hearing the language flow smoothly off his tongue did things to her she didn’t understand. However, there was little she could do about those feelings as they fell into bed, snoring side-by-side within minutes. Hours later, Quinn awoke, feeling Harry hard against her thigh and when he stirred, he had her pressed against the mattress in minutes, whispering hushed proclamations of love as he rocked into her, before they finished and fell asleep again.

When they roused in the late hours of the afternoon, they were greeted by Anne who had taken the liberty of preparing dinner and they enjoyed the family meal, Harry smiling from ear to ear the entire time. In exchange, Harry offered to do the dishes, shooing Quinn away when she offered to help.

From her spot on the couch where she nursed her second – or maybe third – glass of wine, Quinn observed Harry and Anne, and the easy way he chatted with his mother. She couldn’t tell what they were discussing but Anne was focused intently on her son as he talked. Quinn could tell by the way his back moved that Harry was discussing whatever subject passionately as Anne nodded along. Harry was a man of few words – he was always warm but he never used two words when one would do, so his sudden talkativeness was a little strange, but Quinn just attributed it to the emotional week he was coming down from, and when he came into the living room, hands still warm from the soapy water, she cuddled into his solid frame as they settled in to watch a film.

The rest of the week was equally relaxing. Quinn and Anne took turns doting on Harry, making sure he was comfortable at all times, refilling his drink and getting him whatever he needed. Harry, in turn, organized outings and activities for everyone. Boating around the lake, shopping around town, and a wine tasting at a local vineyard, followed by lengthy dinners until everyone left Italy to head back home one by one, leaving Quinn, Harry, Anne, and a few select family members remaining until it was finally Anne’s turn to leave.

“I’ve loved having you here, mum. What time do you need to be at the airport?” Harry asked around a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

“Harry!”

“What?” He looked at Quinn. “I don’t want her to miss her flight! And she’s probably sick of us by now.”

“You don’t have to rush her out the door. Let her finish her toast!”

“He’s fine, dear,” Anne said, gently, with a teasing glint in her eye. “I know when I’ve overstayed my welcome.”

“See,” Harry said as if her statement proved his point.

“Anne, don’t listen to your son. You’re perfectly fine to stay a few more days. That’s what we were planning on anyway.” Quinn turned to Harry, who had grown very pale. “Right?”

“Well, yeah, but I just figured we’d enjoy the…privacy.”

Quinn flushed. The presence of family members in adjacent rooms had never stopped them from “enjoying privacy” in the past. In fact, they’d grown pretty skilled at having a near silent quickie when the need called. What was his problem? “Harry, our calendars are basically empty for the next six months. Your mother is welcome to stay. Anne, please, stay as long as you want.”

Harry’s eyes bounced between Quinn and his mother. “Well, it’s just–”

“I already booked my flight, sweetheart, so it wouldn’t make much sense to change it now,” Anne said to Quinn. “But I really appreciate you wanting me to stay.”

“Oh, OK,” Quinn said, defeated. “Maybe next time.” She collected the empty breakfast plates from the table. “Anyone want more coffee?” Both Anne and Harry declined, and as Quinn turned her back to deposit the dishes in the sink, she completely missed the silent look of thanks Harry shot his mother.

Quinn studied Harry closely in the days following Anne’s departure. All of the weird behavior he’d displayed over the last few months had become non-existent and he was just Harry again. No shutting his phone as Quinn approached. No furtive glances at her when he thought she wasn’t looking. No hushed phone calls in other rooms. All of that had been replaced by his normal behavior. Grabbing her hand and pulling her closer to him as they walked into the village for coffee and pastries. Pressing a kiss against her neck as he read the page over her shoulder. Kisses good morning and goodnight. Smothered in affection, Quinn forgot about all of the questions she’d been harboring throughout the summer and resolved to just soak up this uninterrupted time with Harry.

A few days later, Harry suggested they have a night in and try out a new recipe, a tortellini dish he’d apparently been dying to try. Quinn didn’t know what was so special about this pasta, which looked nearly identical to the pasta they’d eaten two nights ago, but she held her tongue after seeing how happy Harry looked standing behind the counter in his apron.

She had to admit, the pasta was delicious, and having Harry by her side made it even better. When their plates had been emptied, she stood, figuring dish duty was only fair in exchange for Harry having cooked. She dropped the dishes in the soapy water with a splash.

“Just leave those dishes for now. It’s a beautiful sunset tonight.”

“Oh-kay…” Quinn dropped the sponge in the sink and dabbed her hands on the dish towel.

“Figured we shouldn’t waste the night. Thought we could enjoy another glass outside?” Harry held a bottle of wine and two glasses in his hands.

“Sure. When in Rome, right?”

“Give or take 100 kilometers.”

“Since when are you Mr. Mathematics?”

“Since I grew concerned that you don’t know your Italian geography.”

Quinn playfully smacked Harry’s arm, before leaning into his side. “Well let’s go then! That wine’s not going to drink itself.”

They sat side by side on the garden swing. Quinn kicked her sandals off and pulled her feet under her as Harry poured them two hefty glasses. Quinn turned to look at Harry and raised her glass. “To a successful tour and even more successful celebration of all your hard work.”

“Our hard work,” Harry gently corrected. “You were as much a part of everything as I was.”

Quinn blushed. “A successful celebration of all of our hard work.” She paused. “Here’s to more amazing moments and just as many simple ones.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Harry said softly, touching the rim of his glass to Quinn’s. “Cheers.”

They both took a sip of the wine.

“Wow, that’s good,” Quinn said. “Is this from the vineyard?”

“Not quite,” Harry said slowly. “It’s a Chardonnay. Cellar No. 8.”

Quinn frowned, trying to figure out why that particular wine was familiar. “Have we had that before.”

“Just once.”

“When?”

“Um, it was the night we got dinner at that Italian restaurant near your office. I met you on your dinner break.” His voice had the slightest tremor to it. “It was a couple days after we ran into each other again. I was going to ask if you wanted to give us another try.”

The memory came to Quinn in a flash. “And instead I asked you to get my boyfriend a ticket to the Met.” She laughed. “Jesus Christ, do I know how to ruin a moment or what?”

Harry laughed and pulled her in for a hug. “It wasn’t ideal, but I wouldn’t say you ruined anything. Everything between us happened at exactly the right time. It’s meant to be. I mean who knows, if we’d gotten back together that night, we might not be sitting here now.”

“That’s very true.” She laid her head against Harry’s chest and closed her eyes. The moment felt perfect.

“Quinn, I want to marry you,” Harry said, jolting Quinn to attention.

“What?”

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to call you my wife. And I guess I want to know if you’d be alright with that…” He trailed off, losing all bravado the more he spoke. Quinn stared at him, truly speechless for the first time in her life. “Please, for the love of God say something, Quinn.”

“Are you serious?”

“Umm, yeah,” Harry laughed nervously. “Not really something you joke about.”

“Are you sure?”

“Am I sure?” Harry laughed a full belly laugh.

“I mean, I’m kind of a lot. And not in the best way. I mean, I overthink everything, I always manage to spoil your romantic surprises and ruin the moment…”

“You don’t say?”

“See! Are you sure?”

“Quinn, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. When I think about what I’ll remember 60 years from now, yeah, I’ll remember touring the world, but what will really stand out is you. The way I can hear your laugh in the crowd when I make a terrible joke. The look on your face when I play you a new song. The way you curl up next to me when you’re really tired. The way you’ve trained me to get rid of all the green Skittles. Your determination, your dedication to us. The love you show me every day. That’s what I’ll remember, Quinn.”

“Yes, Harry.” Quinn cleared her throat. “I want to marry you. I want to be your wife and I want you to be my husband.”

“Are you sure?” Harry laughed as Quinn shoved him.

“Yes, I have never been more sure of anything.”

“Well, alright then.” Harry shifted in his seat, lifting up onto one side to reach into his left pants pocket, producing a velvet box. His hands were shaking ever so slightly, causing Quinn to reach out and steady them gently. “Thank you, love,” Harry said with a sniff.

“That’s what I’m here for,” Quinn said with a small smile.

Harry slowly opened the box to reveal a diamond ring nestled in the cushion, earning a gasp from Quinn. “Did I pick well?” he asked.

Quinn tried to think of a joke, something quippy to say to play down the litany of emotions she was feeling in the moment, but for what felt like the first time in her life, the first time in their relationship, she played it straight. “Yes, it’s perfect.” She took his face in her hands and pulled him to kiss him slowly, doing her very best to memorize everything about the two of them at that moment.

“So I picked really well then…noted,” Harry said with a breathless laugh, running his hand through his hair. He blinked hard and Quinn could see a few tears fall. “Shit,” he said. “Thought I was all cried out but apparently not.” Quinn reached up to wipe the tears away, and as she pulled away, Harry caught her hand and kissed her fingertips, her palms, her wrist, pulling her close, until she was nearly on top of him, looking him straight in the eyes.

“This is really hard sometimes, but having you next to me makes it so much easier,” he said.

“Well, good news, I’m not going anywhere,” Quinn managed to get out before another wave of tears overtook her.

“That’s the best news I’ve gotten all month,” Harry replied, kissing her again.

Quinn looked down at her hand, now resting against Harry’s chest, fully appreciating the sparkling ring on her finger. “How did you manage to plan this?” she asked.

“I’ve been working on it for a while,” Harry admitted. “Started looking at rings after our stay at Jeff’s. When I finally realized that I was the person I needed to be for you.”

“That was like three years ago. Harry, are you serious?”

“What can I say, I’m really good at keeping secrets.” He chuckled. “The rest of it slowly came into place after.” He chuckled. “I was terrified you were onto something when you saw that countdown on my phone.”

“What was it for?” Quinn asked. “The day has already passed so it couldn’t be for this.”

“You were counting?”

“Of course,” Quinn exclaimed. “You really think I’d see a mystery countdown and not try to figure out what it was for?”

“I had to meet the jeweler in between tour stops and didn’t want to forget.” Harry laughed. “But honestly, I don’t even know how I could forget. This is the only thing I’ve been able to think of for months.”

“Really?”

“Really. I kept coming up with plans and then scrapping them because nothing felt right. A proposal during lockdown didn’t feel right, and after things reopened we were both so busy so I figured I would do something simple. Like I’d ask you on the waterfront or while we went for a walk. Or I’d spell it out in Scrabble tiles or whatever it would take to make it the perfect moment so you could have a great story. I was telling my mum about it and how I wanted to do it while we were here and she just told me to stop worrying and that I’d find the perfect moment. And that’s what happened tonight. We were sitting there, eating dinner and it came to me. Any moment when I’m with you is the perfect moment.”

“Stop it,” Quinn sniffed.

“I’m serious.”

“Well then, I’d have to agree. Everything is perfect when we’re together.”

Harry wrapped his arm around Quinn and they sat next to each other, taking the moment in and enjoying each other's company. Sitting next to Harry, feeling his chest rise and fall, Quinn couldn’t remember the last time they’d been able to be so present with no worry about what was to come tomorrow. Sure, they’d need to call their families and then there’d be a wedding to plan, but for right now it was just her and Harry and everything was as it should be. She closed her eyes, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

“Quinn?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Harry.”

***

talk to me! || story inspo

taglist: @rivercran @daydreaming-laur @oh-honey-styles @nevertoooldtodancelikeamaniac @tbslhrry @andwhenshesays @hslllot@luvonstyles @woody32271 @ambee789 @very-berry-harry @last-saturday-night @confusedbansheee @kakaym @daphnesutton @bableliketable @lauloupi@kkrenae @sing-me-a-song-harry @soup-sex-and-sun-salutations @sweetwanderlust05 @deepestsweetsarbiter @kahluamystery97 @thurhomish @honeybluebirds @daydreamingofmatilda @indierockgirrl @be-with-me-so-happily @a-strange-familiar @mleestiles @theekyliepage @b-reads-things @behindmygreyeyes

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles ff #harry styles series #harry styles x ofc #harry fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut

110 notes · View notes

boremore · 11 months

Note

john b x reader angsty with a crazy ex? ❤️❤️

beaded bellies ♱ john b routledge (ditzy/sunshine reader! she goes by sunny! this is a little more calmed than what the ask says, but hope you like it!)

You were late. That much was obvious. You were supposed to be at The Wreck about 20 minutes ago.

You’d gotten distracted. Like you normally did.

You had passed along a little jewelry cart, all the different colors catching you glazing eye. You had tumbled off your bike a little too dramatically, almost falling, as you jogged the few steps back to the stand.

The lady had been nice, talking to you as you looked a little too long, but came out alive with a soft pastel anklet. The beads looking all too pretty next to one another on the thin silver chain, the clasp was dainty.

You’d never seen John B wear an anklet, you aren’t even particularly sure why it had called your attention—but you got it for him regardless. If he didn’t like it, you’d keep it. (Plus, even if he didn’t like it, he’d never say that to your face. He cared about your feelings a little too much for a teenage boy and whatever.)

You could see the Twinkie the second you biked into the parking lot. The side door open, Kiara sitting at the edge and scrolling through her phone—there was a styrofoam container next to her. Probably fries or chips, from her dad. JJ was at the front of the vehicle, seemingly staring off—his back was facing you. Pope stood at the back tires, hands on his hips as he paced a little. He spotted you first as you tumbled off your bike noisily once more, letting the slightly rusted transportation fall to the tall grass.

Pope gaped. “Took you long enough! We’ve been waiting for, like, ever!” You smiled, cheeks tinted red and hair a little frizzy from the heat of the ride. “I know, I’m sorry! I got distracted again—” Kiara and JJ were now looking at you, attentions called by yours and Pope’s voices. Kie was smiling small, almost a little nervous? JJ looked highly uncomfortable, and JJ was never uncomfortable. You paused, thoughts too big and mouth moving ever too quickly before you could finish one thought for the next. “—Where’s B?”

It was silent for a moment, your three friends looking between themselves. They weren’t telling you something, but it was on the tip of someone’s tongue. Your eyes swam towards JJ, “is he okay? Where is he?” You asked gently, rolling on the balls of you feet a little. You seemed a little oblivious to the uncomfortable blanket on top of your friends.

JJ scratched at his nose and looked at Pope one last time before he finally met your eye. He huffed, hands shoved in his too big pockets. “He’s down at the dock. Got called over.”

Pope winced towards your side and Kiara was seemingly glaring at the blonde. You eased your bottom lip between your teeth. “He got called over?” You asked gently, curious and confused. Why were they cutting corners with you?

JJ frowned a little at you. “You remember Courtney, right? That blonde from the kegs last summer? She was a little close to JB back then—when you guys were just friends?”

“Oh.” You said softly, shoulders sagging a little. Kiara frowned a little, pushing herself up from the Twinkie, quick to aid you—her best friend. “She ordered food and saw him on her way out. She called him over, he kind of couldn’t escape, Sunny. She’s a primadonna, you know how it goes..” They were trying to make you feel better, to assure you, to keep John B at a clear.

Your eyes flickered to her, a soft smile on your lips. “That’s okay.” Of course you knew of Courtney Lovewell, her freaking name was enough for you. She was one of the most popular Pogues, but she wasn’t untouchable. No body was, so you believed.

Your eyes flickered back to JJ, he looked a little less uncomfortable at your calmed reaction. “Is it.. like, okay if I go back there?” You pointed slightly past JJ and towards the dock of the restaurant that was buzzing with clatter and laughter. JJ nodded, small smile on his lips that only ever seem to appear for you—his best friend’s all too kind girlfriend. Even he couldn’t be snarky with you, your nose always too scrunched up to be pushy. “‘Course, Sun.”

You smiled at the three, small and collected. Your arms wrapped around yourself as you passed them. Your nails dug into your arms a little. Courtney Lovewell was pushy and John B wasn’t the best at declaring when he was uncomfortable around girls—too scared to come off as the bad guy, because he wasn’t.

You turned the corner to see the dock, you spotted her in the boat first. She had a couple of her friends in it, they were talking amongst themselves and munching on their order from the restaurant you assumed. Courtney hung off the side, hands planted on the boats edge, sunglasses up in her long blonde hair. She was beaming at John B in her black bikini, skin all too tan. His back facing you, but you could tell just from his shoulders—he was tense. Uncomfortable. It made you frown.

You watched him step back a little, hands shoved into the back pockets of his dark swim shorts. You’d gotten them for him, a whole week paycheck from the surf shop and you’d spent them on swim shorts—that weren’t even for you. John B had called you ridiculous, said he pay you back. You rolled your eyes with blushing cheeks, don’t be silly, it’s a gift. A week later, without you realizing, you had an extra fifteen bucks in your bag.

The boat swayed a little as one girl started it up, clearly a sign for Courtney to shut the hell up and get it going. Courtney seem to glare back at her friend, but said her bye’s to John B, her fingers dragging over his shoulder. You watched him tense a bit more, a soft nod aimed at her. He wasn’t rude.

You leaned against the start of the dock’s railing, chin rested on your tan arm. As John B turned your way you caught his face, scrunched up and uncomfortable as he glared down at his shoes. He sighed a little as he looked up, lips parting as he spotted you. Shocked. A little scared. You sent him a soft smile. “Hi, B.”

The boy bit his lip gently as he looked back at Courtney’s leaving boat. “I didn’t, like,—” He wasn’t sure what he was trying to say? He felt like he’d been caught, even if he hadn’t done anything wrong.

You laughed way too softly and pushed off the railing, skin a little tacky from the heat. “You aren’t in trouble, B.” He seem to deflate at your words as he reached you, he didn’t waste any time with pulling you into a tight grip hug. Your chin hooked over his shoulder, pushing up on your toes as one of his hands cupped the back of your head, the other right against your waist. He squeezed your hip warmly.

You watched Courtney’s boat, the blonde back at the motors glaring at you as she got smaller with distance. You couldn’t help but smile and waved softly at her. The girl rolled her eyes and turned away, just as John B gently pulled away from you. “You’re late,” he mumbled. His fingers skated across your face and pushed back strands of your hair glued to your hot face.

You beamed, suddenly remembering why you’d been late. “I know. M’sorry, I got distracted and bought something for you.”

John B groaned, a hand at the side of your neck gently. “Sunny, how many times do I have to tell you to stop wastin’ your money on me.” You rolled your eyes and twinkled up at him, “hands out and eyes closed, please.” He listened, eyes closed and directed up at the sky, his two hands cupped together for you.

“I don’t know if you’re going to even like it, but I thought it was pretty.” You gently pull the anklet from your back pocket, the silver chain and beads warm in your palm.

You gently placed it in his hands. You tapped the inside of his wrist softly. “Okay, open.” John B’s eyes peeled back and he looked down, a soft smile splitting open on his face as he fingered at the light colored beads. “It’s an anklet,” you mumbled, head tilted to the side a little as you looked up at him. “I think it would look good on you, B. Nice with your tan and what not..”

The boy’s nose scrunched up as he looked at you. “Yeah? You think?” You beamed and leaned towards him, “I do think.”

He smiled, the anklet tight in his closed hand. “It’s fuckin’ perfect, Sunny.” You laughed gently as he leaned forward, pushing his lips into yours. You cupped his face, overly excited. “I knew you’d like it.”

John B hummed, arm slumped over your shoulders suddenly. “Should get you a matching one.” You gasped, cheeks big and bright. “You’d wanna match with me?”

You guys started back towards the Twinkie. John B, obvious. “Duh.”

#outer banks #john b routledge #john b obx #john b routledge x ditzy!reader #john b routledge x sunshine!reader #john b x reader #john b routledge x reader #john b routledge x you #john b routledge x y/n #chase stokes #outer banks imagine #outer banks blurb #outer banks pogues #john b routledge blurb #soph’s place

330 notes · View notes

moonyssmommyy · 8 months

Text

My Marauders Headcanons Pt. 12 ~ Pandora Liliosa Lovegood

Best friends with Regulus

Made him Luna's godfather

She's bisexual and polyamorous

A Ravenclaw

She's a VERY affectionate friend. Just very affectionate in general.

Believes in platonic kisses like the one you'd give your mother before you went to bed as a child

Loves to hold hands

Cuddling is her fav

Def makes flower crowns

Barty (who's always had a secret soft spot for Pandora) gave her one of his Slytherin ties one day and now she wears it as a headband

Her fav color is periwinkle

She loves pastels

Flowy fabrics

Lace tops

Flared bottoms

She's super sweet

Honestly VERY quiet unless she knows you really well

If you've even so much as told her your name she will say hi to you whenever she sees you

She loves yogurt

Prefers a nice lil yogurt over a Popsicle in the hot summer heat

Like the little spoons

Big cuddler

Her laugh will make you smile and if not then you have no heart (that's how i found out barty had one)

Born at 6:27 in the Morning

Born June 22

Cancer

Pandora's mother LOVED Marilyn Monroe and Pandora did too even though she died before Pandora was born

Pandora Lovegood is absolutely ethereal and hypnotic

And she follows Marilyn Monroe's beauty tips religiously

Ties the little witches locks in her hair and weaves thread/yarn into her braids

She has thin pink lips

Wide, blue eyes that are very soulful and expressive

She adores collecting things

She loves the beach and wants to live on the shore line

She likes the funky patterns and fabrics every one else usually doesn't

She loves quirky, dangly earrings

She usually wears flowy dresses, tight tops, and loose pants

Mom jeans truther

Has a butterfly tattoo on her right shoulder

Long, wild, wavy hair

Best class is charms

Fav class is care of magic creatures

She also really likes potions

She'll put her hair up with her wand quite often and she wears the Slytherin tie as a headband

Loves dainty little necklaces and chokers

Loves jewelry in general

She makes jewelry too

Has a TON of rings

But the stone in all of them is a different crystal

Astrological nerd

Knows everyone's astrological charts

Very spiritual

Divine feminine

Animagus is a white cat

Fairy grunge meets gloomy coquette in the most tantalizing of ways

Absolutely bewitched by the muggle world

Either she's perfectly put together or a hot mess there is no in between

Dated Emmeline Vance for years and was absolutely devastated when they broke up

Her new found friendship with Lily is what saved her after their breakup

Was already dating Xenophilius by the time Mary and Lily asked to be in a relationship together

Pandora was really nervous about dating another girl much less two after how hurt she was when her and Emmeline broke up

She told Mary and Lily she would think about it but really she wanted to say yes

She just really loved Xenophilius and wanted to make sure he was ok with it first

He would give Pandora the entire world if she asked so of course he said yes

But he was confused on whether or not hed have to date them too tho

EXTREMELY SMART

She has her astrological sign constellation tattooed across her neck/collarbone

She wants a hedgehog

Loves moths

Has a Siamese cat

And a tarantula

Pandora loves insects and will casually let them crawl all over her and it literally freaks the fuck out of EVERYBODYYYY

113 notes · View notes

thatdruidgal · 1 year

Text

grimoire organization 2022

Greetings, everyone! This is how I've organized my grimoire for 2022. I use Obsidian to write it digitally.

This is just my personal preference for organization, so no worries if yours looks different! There are as many ways to organize a grimoire as there are witches and wizards in the world.

Tell me what you think! What parts do you like? What do you think I should add? Anything I'm missing or suggestions to make it better? Feel free to comment how you organize your grimoire below!

Farewell, and good tidings!

Branwen

---------

01.00 introduction

01.01 book blessing + protection

01.02 devotion/dedication

01.03 codes/rules/tenets

personal code

code of celtic druidism

the celtic commandments

01.04 intentions and goals

goals

intentions

01.05 learn more/add to grimoire (notes)

02.00 about author

02.01 names

02.02 personal craft

02.03 life path number

02.04 birth tarot card

the emperor

02.05 astrology birth chart

sun in leo

moon in capricorn

ascendant in aquarius

mercury in virgo

venus in leo

mars in pisces

jupiter in leo

saturn in cancer

uranus in pisces

neptune in aquarius

pluto in sagittarius

02.06 celtic zodiac

hazel “the knower”

02.07 personal beliefs (brief)

02.08 favorites

color

magical tools

herbs

crystals

02.09 relationships with spiritual beings

02.10 psychic abilities (clair-)

02.11 personal signature/symbols

02.12 ancestry

02.13 how i want to be remembered

03.00 basics

03.01 types of spells

cleansing

saining

warding

enchanting

verbal spells

invocation

evocation

candle spells

sigil spells

jar spells

ratchets

rituals

03.02 ritual work

the ritual model

intent

visualization

consecration

meditation + grounding

directing energy

clockwise vs. counterclockwise

03.03 types of correspondences

protection

healing

cleansing

banishing

luck

mental clarity

03.04 sabbats

about sabbats

yule (winter solstice)

imbolc

ostara (spring equinox)

beltane

litha (summer solstice)

lughnahsadh

mabon (fall equinox)

samhain (halloween)

03.05 altars

03.06 spirit guides

about spirit guides

ancestor guides

ascended masters

archetype guides

guardian angels

animal guides

03.07 auras

about auras

chakras

03.08 alphabets + code language

ogham alphabet [not featured here]

03.09 symbols

celtic symbols

03.10 about divination

04.00 nature

04.01 the three elements

nwyfre

gwyar

calas

04.02 talking to nature

04.03 lunar phases

full moon

new moon

waxing crescent

first quarter

waxing gibbous

waning gibbous

last quarter

waning crescent

blue moon

black moon

lunar eclipse “blood moon”

solar eclipse

moon void

04.04 herbs

tips

for saining

medicinal

misc

how to dry + store

04.05 gardening

companion plants

herbs

night-blooming plants

04.06 waters

rain water

storm water

dew water

snow water

moon water

sun water

river water

sea water

spring water

lake water

well water

swamp water

rose water

florida water

salt water

rosemary water

how to make moon water

04.07 aromatherapy

essential oils

custom for calm

05.00 minerals

05.01 crystals (by intention)

ones i own

ones i do not own

05.02 stones

precious stones

hag stones

wishing rocks

heart stones

05.03 jewelry

05.04 amulets

about amulets

charging amulets

05.05 charging

05.06 cleansing + care

05.07 salts

purposes

06.00 spirits

06.01 relationships with the spirits

06.02 when making offerings…

06.03 offering ideas

06.04 spirit guides

how to contact

talking to spirit guides

questions to ask

06.05 the fae

about the fae

offering ideas

(some) types of fae

07.00 altars

07.01 layouts

07.02 what to use/ideas

07.03 for the elements

nwyfre

gwyar

calas

07.04 for sabbats

yule (winter solstice)

imbolc

ostara (spring equinox)

beltane

litha (summer solstice)

lughnahsadh

mabon (fall equinox)

samhain (halloween)

08.00 recipes

08.01 general tips

08.02 infusions

tips

herb-infused oil

rose oil

08.03 foods

lughnasadh herb bread

litha orange honey cake

rosemary-honey shortbread

enchanting flower and herb spread

08.04 drinks

fire cider

08.05 potions

08.06 natural remedies

elderberry syrup

08.07 lotions

rose hip lotion [personal]

08.08 cleaning products

pine needle spray

08.09 misc

incense

four thieves vinegar

09.00 spells + rituals

09.01 affirmations

lunar affirmations

09.02 sigils

passive sigils

active sigils

creating sigils

charging sigils

09.03 sachets + jars

anti-anxiety sachet

09.04 prayers

simple opening prayer [personal]

druids prayer

09.05 blessings

old irish blessing

blessing lavender tea [personal]

garden blessing

seedling blessing

09.06 lunar rituals

new moon

waxing crescent

first quarter

waxing gibbous

full moon

waning gibbous

last quarter

waning crescent

09.07 sabbat rituals

yule (winter solstice)

ostara (spring equinox)

beltane

litha (summer solstice)

lughnahsadh

mabon (fall equinox)

samhain (halloween)

09.08 birthday ritual

09.09 solitary dedication ritual

10.00 divination

10.01 astrology birth charts

sun

moon

ascendant

mercury

venus

mars

jupiter

saturn

uranus

neptune

pluto

10.02 zodiac signs

aquarius

pisces

aries

taurus

gemini

cancer

leo

virgo

libra

scorpio

sagittarius

capricorn

10.03 celtic zodiac

rowan

ash

alder

willow

hawthorn

oak

holly

hazel

vine

ivy

reed

elder

birch

10.04 basic tarot card meanings

major arcana

minor arcana, cups

minor arcana, swords

minor arcana, staffs

minor arcana, discs

10.05 tarot spreads

10.06 cleansing the tarot deck

10.07 omens

10.08 psychic abilities

about psychic powers

what to use them for

developing psychic abilities

11.00 library

11.01 dictionary/encyclopedia (?)

11.02 science and magic(k)

matter and energy

11.03 celts

deities

celtic clothing

celtic days

hand-fasting

11.04 druidry

about druidry

bard

ovate

druid

druid organizations

11.05 paganism + animism

11.06 types of divination

augury

astragalomancy

biorhythms

cartomancy

tarot

cleromancy

rhabdomancy

numerology

osteomancy

sacred geometry

tasseomancy

theriomancy

11.07 types of witches/witchcrafts

green witch

eclectic witch

kitchen witch

solitary witch

cottage witch

grey witch

hedge witch

sea witch

religious witch

moon witch

sun witch

elemental witch

fire witch

earth witch

water witch

air witch

swamp witch

faery witch

cosmic witch

divination witch

crystal witch

secular witch

urban witch

literary witch

forest witch

music witch

chaos witch

shadow witch

techno witch

desert witch

art witch

natural witch

hereditary witch

11.08 types of psychic ability

clairvoyance

clairaudience

clairecognizance

clairsentience

clairalience

clairgustance

psychometry

11.09 tree lore

oak

hazel

hawthorn

11.10 animal lore

salmon

cranes

serpents

bees

ladybugs

butterflies

dragonflies

owls

hawks

crows

spiders

11.11 misc correspondences

shapes

colors

weekdays

elements

12.00 inspiration

12.01 legends and myths

fionn mac cumhaill and the salmon of knowledge

12.02 poetry

celandines

alder dance

the oak tree

augeries of innocence

putting in the seed

hermitage

to the cardinal, attacking his reflection in the window

nature aria

the gray heron

12.03 artwork [not featured here]

12.04 photography [not featured here]

13.00 shadow book [personal]

13.01 affirmations

13.02 recipes

13.03 cleansing

13.04 warding

13.05 enchanting

13.06 verbal spells

13.07 candle spells

13.08 sigil spells

13.09 jar spells + sachets

13.10 crystals

13.11 rituals

13.12 tarot divination

readings

getting to know the field tarot deck [archive]

13.13 dreams

13.14 craft challenges

13.15 holiday celebrations

13.16 miscellaneous

13.17 craft advice

from mickey

14.00 personal beliefs

14.01 personal beliefs (expanded)

14.02 creation of the universe

14.03 death + otherworld

14.04 time

14.05 “spirituality”

14.06 magick

15.00 index of personal contributions

16.00 list of sources of information

#grimoire #2022 grimoire #grimoire 2022 #grimoire organization #witchy #witch #green witch #crystal witch #witchy things #druidcraft #witchcraft #baby witch #idk what im doing #but i guess this works #at least for now #grimoire tips #witchy tips #beginner witch

248 notes · View notes

adaginy · 2 years

Text

[Part 1] [Part 2] Part 3: Tlume covered his face with his ears. Tlume was the one Jana wasn't friends with. Uvair pushed her kid toward Tlume, told him to watch it, and Basche and Uvair took Jana aside.

"Did the child give you anything?

"It gave me this flower. I think it was scared." Ey raised eir eyebrows.

Basche: "None of us told you about these parties before? No-one warned you when you signed up to go with us?

"I didn't sign up, I had followed you as you left mess hall and security barely checked my green lights before telling me to go. What's wrong?"

"Congratulations, you're an elder!" Tlume shouted. The kid started crying.

"Eh?"

Basche explained. "None of the elders took this kid. Too small, malformed," he said, wiggling his fingers, so apparently they wouldn't grow in later. "And that's a local flower? It didn't have a trinket to give -- cheap trinkets are tradition, but a more expensive one would help pay for its care. It must have gotten desperate, looked for anyone to take care of it. You accepted its gift."

"What, I can't -- Where's its parent? Didn't they wait to see--"

Uvair shook her head, a learned human gesture. "Nah. If it didn't find an elder it would just die. You can leave it here if you don't want it. It would be seen as theft if you were Peprine, even just stealing the flower, but if you picked up a castoff because you didn't know then no-one would hold it against you."

The kid was clutching tight to Jana's head and it was eir turn to be horrified. "You'd leave them to DIE??"

They all shrugged. "If every adult Peprine had a living kid every cycle, we'd overrun the galaxy. And you saw that there's not a lot of selection pressure for mating. This is when natural selection happens."

Maybe they weren't going to be friends anymore. "No. Absolutely not. My kid now. I'll figure it out. You hear that, kiddo? I've got you."

"Child, the human says it will keep you. Jana, it has no translation dock, it doesn't understand you."

"No wonder it's been so scared of me. Ask it its name? Tell it my name. Let's find Sthani and go home."

"Are you sure? Peprine raised by aliens don't always do great, it's just an artefact of evolu-- Okay, we'll find you some guides," Basche said, seeing Jana's face.

They went through much of this again when Sthani showed up, though Sthani knew humans better than to suggest letting a kid die.

To Jana's amusement, the kid's name was Kiddo. Uvair's kid's name was Binn. Kiddo was too shy to hold conversation mediated by Sthani (it didn't talk to Binn much either), but Sthani taught Jana a few Peprine words. Eat, food, stars, 'rest' since sleep was a human thing, yes and no. As soon as they got close enough for better transmission with the main ship, Basche and Sthani found some guides for non-Peprine taking care of Peprine children and downloaded them for Jana.

"If you want the best child, be there early, wear jewelry or similar adornments... Gain weight beforehand if possible, size suggests that you ate well before the migration, during which Peprine do not eat..." Jana mumbled as ey skimmed the first section. "Oh here we go. Most important tips. High-protein, high-fat diet, no problem. Oh-- for religious reasons, no meat, though some sects allow eating sentients that volunteer to being eaten as part of their reproductive cycle... I didn't know y'all had religion," Jana said.

"Most species do, but less variety than humans. I don't think most try to spread it to other species."

"Sensible, really. ... Avoid cold and damp, always keep warm and dry, but not too hot..." Ey paused to do the math on the allowable temperature range. No southern summers, but it was doable. "Expect rapid growth in adolescent stage, yeah, I was like that too... Your new child may not know much or anything about your species... Sthani? Does Kiddo know anything about humans?"

Sthani asked, listened, laughed. "Only from stories and pictures. It was told that you were powerful monsters and that you are friends with everyone. So it didn't know what to believe."

"Oh man." Not far off. "Can you tell it... Fuck. I don't know. Tell it I won't ever be a danger to it on purpose and that I'll try really hard to not be a danger to it on accident either. And that I'll explain better once it has a translation dock."

And ey started taking down notes for things to tell the kid about. Pack bonding. Broad sketches of human history and reputation. How human families worked, or how they were broadly supposed to. Ey'd have to learn about Peprine biology and teach Kiddo about human biology, so that between the two of them they'd have good guesses at what ey might think was totally fine but it couldn't safely do. Sthani would probably help. And Sthani hadn't suggested letting the kid die on account of some missing fingers. Engineering could make a fix for that anyway. And ey'd have to call eir mom, and send her a translation dock. Mom wanted grandkids so bad. [Part 4]

#Aliens and humans #humans in space #humans and alien kids #humans are space fae #human pack bonding #addie writes

342 notes · View notes

ikeromantic · 1 year

Note

Ask 3

------

Mitsunari, J is for Jewel, 🥰

Sweet Mitsunari is sweet indeed! Approx. 700 words of gems and true love.

Mitsunari was focused. When his attention was on something, that was his whole world. He could see nothing else. Hear nothing else. Usually his object of interest was a book or a scroll. Some dusty tome that held the secrets of supply lines, fortifications, and sieges. But not today.

The chatelaine watched his hands as he fumbled with the small, latched jewelry box. “I can get that for you,” she offered. Her voice was kind. She understood him so well.

“I’ve got it.” And he did. The box opened and he drew out a pair of jade earrings. They gleamed in the warm afternoon sun as if they held a light of their own. Mitsunari held them cautiously. “Happy anniversary. Do you like them? I got jade because it is supposed to protect the wearer. And it is the jewel of the heart - like you. I read that once, and it made me think I should get you something of jade.”

She laughed, a sound of joy and pleasure. “They are beautiful.” Her lips brushed his cheek. “I can’t believe you remembered.”

He hadn’t, of course. Mitsunari smiled bashfully at the adoration in her expression. “Ieyasu reminded me,” he admitted. Dates often flew past him, lost in a sea of dusty pages.

“Mmm, then it was smart of you to ask him for a reminder.” She settled her arms around him with a happy sigh. “But even if you hadn’t, I would. I promised to take care of you, remember?”

Mitsunari chuckled. “I don’t think Nobunaga is holding you to that.”

“Well, maybe I hold myself to it anyway.”

He grinned so wide his cheek hurts. How did she always make him feel this way? So loved and valued, as if he were her most precious treasure instead of the other way around. “Turn your head?”

She tilted her face so that he could reach her ear.

Mitsunari bit his lip in concentration. He wanted to get this right. Without dropping the earring or trying to poke a new hole . . . The thin curve of the post felt click between his fingers, ready to slip away. He pinched it tighter and brought the tip to her ear. There, the piercing - and - yes, yes, no-no - yes! The slim metal hook slid through and held, the jade dangled from her earlobe.

“Beautiful,” he sighed.

“Yes, these really are lovely earrings.”

He brushed a finger along the curve of her jaw. “You. Not the gems. Though they suit you.” He loved the way she felt when he touched her. Soft as silk and warm as a summer afternoon.

Her eyelashes fluttered shut with momentary pleasure at the gentle touch. She turned her head to give him her other ear.

Somehow, placing this second earring felt so much easier. Perhaps, Mitsunari thought, it was because she trusted him completely even though she knew he was often clumsy. She never doubted him, even if she ought to. He slipped the hook through her piercing without a single misstep. Then he kissed the curve of her ear, the jade ornament brushed against his chin. “Happy anniversary.”

When she turned to face him, her eyes shone with that inner light that he loved. More beautiful than the most expensive gem, he thought. It brought him so much wonder even now that she’d chosen him. Loved him. That she could look at him like this, let him hold her. Even after a year, he felt awed by her.

Her smile lit the room. “You know, the best part of our anniversary is that I get you all to myself.”

“I was going to say that,” he replied, his voice as soft as the touch of downy feathers.

She laughed softly. “Then let me take your next line too. Can I kiss you?”

“When you look at me like that, I can’t even think of saying no.”

“Now who’s stealing who’s lines?” She leaned forward, lips brushing his tentatively, shyly, as if she’d forgotten all the other kisses they shared and this was the first one, again.

Mitsunari pulled her closer, and his kiss held no reservation. He loved her with everything he was, this jewel of his heart. He wanted her to know it.

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen Mitsunari #mitsunari ishida #fanfiction #fanfic #otome #otome guys #fluff

39 notes · View notes

biillyhargroves · 2 years

Note

edissy being so happy and in love from 86 till now. I'm talking details- where did they move to? what do they fight about? what are their kids names and why? what jobs do they do? let's give them the best life together, they deserve it.

when you're right you're right, these two deserve the world so let's talk about them getting all of the good things that happen to them and the perfect little life that they have so clearly earned!!!!

When Chrissy finds out that Eddie's number one goal is to graduate, she LOCKS!! THAT!! SHIT!! DOWN!! Operation: Munson Graduation is a-go. She's got the schedules, she's got the flashcards, she's got highlighters in every single color. She quizzes him at lunch, forces him into the library, badgers him about his tests and proofreads his papers and is all-around the most supportive girlfriend in the world. And, of course, all that hard work pays off. By June, Chrissy graduates with honors, and Eddie...well, he graduates, and that is all that either of them care about, honestly. She's so proud of him, too. The proudest.

Eddie had fully been planning on skipping prom until he saw Chrissy light up at the perfect dress in a store window when they were out one day. She tries not to make a deal out of it, knowing that school dances are not really his vibe, but about a week after spotting the dress she shows up at Eddie's trailer to find it hanging up in his bedroom. "What is this?" she asks, and Eddie is all shy and fidgety when he tells her that he saw how much she liked the dress and he thought that maybe, if she wanted to, she could probably wear it to the prom if she might maybe want to go with him.

Her mom doesn't like the idea of Chrissy going anywhere with Eddie. She really does like it when Eddie shoes up to pick Chrissy up wearing Chuck Taylors, with his long hair and his jewelry, and a Metallica pin on his too-small, threadbare suit jacket. Honestly, dating Eddie is Chrissy first open act of rebellion and even though she's nervous, when they're posing for pictures, she gets up on her tip-toes to kiss Eddie before her mom can stop her. She snatches the Polaroid before her mom can toss it, and it's her absolute favorite picture of them because you can tell she's caught Eddie off guard, they're both laughing as they're kissing, and they look so genuinely happy.

At graduation, Eddie and Chrissy both flip the bird when they move their tassels, right up there on stage, a giant fuck you. For Eddie, it's to the whole school — hell, the whole town. For Chrissy? She stares her mom dead in the eyes. Everyone is shocked. Eddie is beaming.

Chrissy goes back to Eddie's after graduation, spends the summer there. Wayne is glad to have her, glad to see his nephew so happy. She struggles a lot, because leaving home is hard and sometimes she's afraid that the spell will break and Eddie won't want her anymore, that all the awful things her mother said to her are true. She worries over her weight, over her clothes, and Eddie is right there for her every step of the way.

She goes to college. She studies art, which she knows her mother would hate, would berate her for how impractical an art degree is, but it makes her so happy. She's so in her element, and Eddie is awe of her every single day.

Eddie puts his focus on Corroded Coffin, playing shows all over Indiana, little bars and taverns and pubs. Chrissy goes to every single one, no matter the time or how far she has to drive. If she has a test the next day, she'll be at the bar with her textbooks, studying right up until he goes on, and then her focus is all on Eddie.

It's after one of these shows, on an ordinary night in 1988, when the two of them are in bed all sleepy and tangled together, that Eddie asks Chrissy to marry him. He doesn't quite know where the question comes from, and she doesn't waste any time thinking about it. She says yes, and the next morning the two of them buy a cheap white dress and a poorly tailored suit at a little thrift store and head to the courthouse. Nothing fancy. No frills. Just two people completely, utterly, hopelessly in love with one another. They don't have enough money to buy wedding bands, but Eddie gifts her one of his rings and promises that one day he'll replace it with a real diamond, something worthy of her. They go to dinner with Wayne and Chrissy's dad afterwards (her mother, of course, would not support such a union, and Chrissy, at this point, has accepted that; she doesn't need her mother's approval, after all).

By the time Chrissy earns her degree, it's 1990 and Corroded Coffin is playing shows across America. She and Eddie splurge their savings on a beat-up old RV and hit the road. The band hustles, the crowds get bigger, and bigger, and bigger until one day they get invited to tour with some huge name that Chrissy only knows from the posters and tapes that always littered Eddie's bedroom in Hawkins. And sure, they're the opening band, hardly anyone is there to see them, but soon — very soon — they'll be the headliners. Chrissy travels with Eddie, making and selling her art along the way to supplement their income.

The band makes it bigger than Eddie ever hoped it could, especially in an age where the roaring metal of the '80s was slowly succumbing to the grunge era of the '90s. What made Corroded Coffin successful was Eddie's absolute refusal to ever go the Nirvana route. "I mean, their music is fine," Eddie always said, "but it's not mine."

Chrissy makes a name for herself on the art scene, too. She's into mixed media, photography and paint. Her favorite subject is Eddie.

They have two children, a boy and a girl. Wayne Munson, who goes by Junior among family, and Georgia Munson, named for the state of Georgia, where she was born in the middle of the southern leg of a Corroded Coffin tour — Eddie had gotten a message right before they went on and completely ditched the show to be by Chrissy's side; the fans, of course, understood.

Pregnancy is hard for Chrissy. It brings back a lot of old demons, a lot of toxic thoughts, but it helps her to see how excited Eddie is, how very naturally he takes on the role of a father. She knows that her children are in good hands. Those babies travel the world with the band, are always in the wings with Chrissy to watch their daddy play. They are born and bred little metalheads and Chrissy wouldn't have it any other way. (Dustin is the kids' godfather. Because I said so.)

Whenever they pass through Indiana, they stop in Hawkins. They visit Wayne, have lunch with Chrissy's dad. They always meet up with the old gang, the remnants of the Hellfire Club, and Eddie reverts right back to who he was back then, that charismatic speech-giving freak that Chrissy fell head over heels in love with.

They settle down someplace warm, maybe California, when they get a bit older. Eddie is always going, always moving, but Chrissy wants roots and he's glad to give her that. She volunteers at their community center, teaching art classes, and events get involved as a cheerleading coach at the local high school. She did love cheer, of course, and more than anything she wants to protect other girls from going through what she did — wants them to see themselves as beautiful in their own bodies.

She still goes with Eddie when the band tours, always at his side. In their younger years, she used to bring her pompoms to the show, would rustle them in the wings to get a mid-show laugh out of Eddie. Sometimes, she still does, just to see that little spark in her eyes when he spots her at the side of the stage, behind the curtain, always rooting for him.

I should probably stop but here's some last fun facts to finish things off: (1) when social media ramps up, Eddie has no idea how to use it — Chrissy figures it out fast, with the help of the kids, and to this day she is the one behind the official Eddie Munson social media; (2) Corroded Coffin's biggest hit is a song that Eddie wrote for Chrissy before they made it big, back when they were living in his uncle's trailer and surviving off of ramen noodles and shitty coffee; (3) Chrissy sings backing vocals on multiple Corroded Coffin songs; Eddie always credits her as Chrissy Munson, love of my life.

OKAY THAT'S ALL FOR NOW.

#anon #answered #edssy #edissy #eddie x chrissy #chrissy x eddie #chrissy cunningham #eddie munson

364 notes · View notes