#I Traveled to the Most Depressed Country in the World | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chlmtsdoll · 5 months ago

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I’VE ALWAYS DREAMED OF…

౨ৎ Pairing: Art Donaldson/Tashi Duncan x female reader, Art Donaldson x reader, Art x Tashi

౨ৎ Summary: after being dismissed from your ballet academy and your dreams of being a dancer come crashing down, you decide to take on a new accomplishment — becoming a tennis protege to Tashi and Art.

౨ৎ Word count: 2.4k

౨ৎ Warnings: no use of y/n, inexperienced!reader, age gap (reader in early 20’s) dilf/milf age Art & Tashi, talk of oral (F reviving), fingering, size kink ? corruption (ish), mention of masterbation, brief mention of ED, pinning Art, needy reader, I have literally 0 knowledge of sports//tennis so if everything is inaccurate I’m sorry. I’m simply just a romantic smut addict who loves these characters 🤍

౨ৎ part two | three | four

You wouldn’t have wished that full body shock sensation of that day on your worst enemy. Never in a million years would you think all that discipline, bloody feet and overextension on your body to the point of black outs and collapse would have lead to that moment — the day you got dismissed from your ballet academy.

It had been your dream since a little girl to form a stable career as a traveling ballerina. To dance on European stages and tour around different countries doing what you loved. What set your heart on fire. But when you started to grow out of your bodies potential form, now in your early twenties, the instructors had to make the final decision to cut you from your class. You could no longer dance.

No one told you that after you turned around seventeen you’d no longer be the ‘correct’ body shape to be a ballerina. Not any doctors, not your parents — it was all fine up until your twenty first birthday. But even after you got the news that you were entering a red zone, you starved, and you looked into surgeons that would make you look like the ideal ballerina, but nothing was up to the terms of the academies you had qualified for.

The depression of your once life long dream had taken a complete toll over you for a year until you had to pick yourself up again.

Somewhere at least

You tried out other hobbies that took just your hands, baking, sewing, painting. But none of it made your soul feel like it had a real purpose. You needed to compete — you needed to move, your feet needed to glide quickly but delicately all at once. You needed that power and center of stage. You wanted all eyes on you while you made your body flex with determination and a fire light in your eyes.

And that’s when you started searching for tennis coaches.

You figured with your years worth of forming around good discipline and structure in ballet, tennis was a close second to the kind of agility you needed as an athlete of some sort, you knew you were no pro. Nor maybe ever going to be. But you had to do this, it was now tennis or nothing — and you were too young and too ambitious to give up just yet.

So you found them. Her first. Tashi Donaldson.

You knew of her, being in this Industry especially with being around so many wealthier kinds of sports enthusiasts, her name was gonna come around sometimes — and her husband of course plenty, Art Donaldson.

With some friends of friends, and many emails and more emails you were able to officially meet them after a couple days of searching and applying for tennis coaching nonstop. And when that day finally came, If it weren’t for their outshining talent at what they do for the tennis world, you would of figured they were models or at least assumed they should be.

They were both beautiful in an otherworldly sense — jaws that to you could cut like knives and bodies of literal gods.

You were shorter, and more petite as most ballerinas were, so when Tashi towered over you your first meet, all the confidence and sophistication you had previously practiced for this exact moment before hand, dissolved almost immediately — you were so intimidated by the powerful essence that poured off of her, the way her short waves flowed when she turned and her shirt dresses were left unbuttoned at just the perfect degree. Not too much on display, but just the right amount of cleavage and skin showing to leave her inferior curious for more, yearning for that bit of softness to Tashi that was merely her skin.

Speaking of softness, Art on the other hand had total power to his presence, with his name in grand letters everywhere. A full Olympic gold medalist tennis superstar. You’d think it all would go to his head, but that day you first shook hands with the mesmerizing man, you felt only warmth as he took your delicate into his bigger yet soft hands. You were left to find nothing but gentle kindness behind his eyes — you even noticed a bit of brown in his perfect blue irises.

And from that moment you had already known you’d become completely and utterly obsessed with him.

Yet that was six months ago now. Quickly you moved from your once apartment in New York City that you referred to as your ‘struggling ballerina habitat’ to the Donaldson estate — it was best you’d be as hands on with your tennis as possible, according to Tashi. But nothing could of prepared you for as hands on as it would get.

It had been two weeks into your training that the couple had come to you with a proposal. Art and Tashi would make a deal, that you’d be their play thing. But mainly for Art. His wife stated it would help up his game if he had something young, girlish and sweet to distract him in the meanwhile when he got too caught up in 40 loves, and wanting to do justice to Tashi’s failed tennis career. Sometimes it got all too much, and by that, most of the time. He needed you.

And how did you need him.

Within the first month you and Art had gotten feverishly close. With all the admiring you did of him and how he came to have the sports world in the palm of his hand, his rise to fame and all the while having a wife and daughter. Your smiles and soft blushes when he caressed your cheek — how you poked fun at him for not understanding your pop culture references or slang. It all gave him a nolstagia for his youth that made his heart pump a little faster and his racket hit a little harder on the court.

He was so so beyond sweet with you, helping you with your back hands, his fingers drifting your frame from behind as he positioned your body to his liking, and his grins when your mini tennis skirts (that Tashi ordered you to wear) would rise against his clothed thigh to only reveal the bit of lace panties you had on underneath.

With all the overwhelming feelings you didn’t deny the pleasure of touching yourself at night to the thought of his short strawberry blonde waves between your fingers as his lips made out with your pussy for hours. His tongue making you let out unimaginable noises to then kiss the taste of yourself off his lips.

So you couldn’t have been more down when Tashi made you sign for your little agreement.

You didn’t care if you were nothing but a fuck to get Art’s name permanently on the forums of different Tennis courts across the country. You’d do anything for just a glimpse of him. It was all you had really. Anything for Tashi to say you did well.

Anything for them.

It all had been in return of a place for you to stay as well. With your background coming from being a young ballerina from a big city — you hardly got paid anything manageable in the slightest. So it was nothing for Tashi and Art to shower you in their riches — the best maids, cooks, dietary plans, luxury hotels with new designer sports attire waiting for your arrival on top of your own beautifully decorated room in their home and a promised bright career ahead of you.

You’d just never bother to complain for also getting to receive the kind of affection and intimacy from the two who just needed a little bit of something. You, to make them feel alive again.

Now, you were settled into your silk pajama set that was personally picked out for you by Tashi, in a dusty pink rose color — the color she kept her nails because she mentioned it drove Art crazy. Giggles and soft laughter could be heard from the grand living room as you sat across from Art before bed. Watching his grin behind folded knuckles to his face, you bit your lip softly. “I haven’t been able to do it again since.”

“You can. And you will, you just need a little motivation.” you tittered softly with a smile. Taking in the sight of the man sitting so close yet too far from you.

You two had been watching highlights of some of Arts best matches from over the years.

You loved this. Sitting and listening to him talk about his career for however long he wanted, asking questions about how it felt to be so good at a craft — it made him feel assured telling you, teaching you. His confidence raised by the easy flow of conversation you had to offer. Because that’s what you were for, keeping him in that space of authority to at least something in his life and an escape from the tough business world that had broken down a man like him too many times before. So if you were keeping him up, Tashi was keeping you in.

Motivation

You could practically hear Art murmur the word to himself in his head and he looked at you with a sly grin on his face to which you only blushed and inched closer to his presence just a few pillows away from you.

“Yeah ? You gonna serve just like I showed you on the court tomorrow, ballerina ?”

Your lips immediately perked into a silly wide smile and you giggled like a school girl at the former accusation that was now Arts little nickname for you. Your chin resting in the crease of your elbow shyly as you nodded.

“It’ll be perfect. I promise.”

Art leaned in to leave a soft and delicately placed kiss to your neck. You shivered at the sweet somberness between the two of you, eyes almost fluttering closed as time stopped for a moment — but it was all cut short when Tashi came in from tucking Lily to bed. A demeanor on her face and body language like something had been not so lovely with her at that moment.

In her pajama slip, she had grabbed the remote from the table in front of the two of you and turned the tv off.

“Say goodnight.” She spoke with a soft assertiveness and Art had stood, he left a quick kiss to your cheek that didn’t leave you satisfied but wanting to whine his name to stay. Just for a little longer. But instead you let out a quite “night” as he made his way to Tashi.

Their lips pressed in a deep and slower smooch, you watched as some saliva collected in your mouth and you swallowed almost a little too loudly.

The way Art had softened into her made your stomach churn with want. Tashi had a gentle hand to his cheek as he pecked her one last time before disappearing through the hallway and you stood as well. Tashi’s eyes were locked on yours, and something gave you the notion that you weren’t allowed to leave just yet.

It had gone quite for a second as she focused on you, and you wanted to start picking your nails right there.

“I don’t like to end the night unsure, so do you want to tell me why you were slacking off on the court today ?”

Her words were crisp and landed on you like a paper cut you hadn’t seen coming. Your throat already tightening. You knew the chances of this night ending with her giving you that same kind of kiss she gave Art, was now looking too slim. And you feared for everything.

“I-I just haven’t been feeling too good on my feet lately,” your words already weakening under the woman’s gaze. “I’ve been trying to keep my lounges quick, steady, but the arch is hard to get rid of after-“

“Look. And listen to me.” Your eyes shot up from your feet as Tashi cut you and she began, “You’re not dancing in a recital and you’re not a fucking ballerina.”

She scorned you cold and straight forward. You immediately felt merely pushed back by force at her words.

“I don’t care if you’ll need to spend extra time with your physical therapist, I want you on your feet completely and ready to go tomorrow. This is tennis. That’s your life now, so start playing it because I don’t care for wasting my time, Understood ?”

Tashi knew how the ballerina facade went — the presenting as sweet, innocent, as fragile as a tea cup to the world, yet being built up to be an absolute machine. Being able to withstand even the harshest of hits to the ground or the lashing out of choreographers and instructors till gods end. It’s why she was never soft with you when it came to tennis, just like she wasn’t with Art.

You had nodded rather quickly and you were not going to let the readied tears resting on your ducts fall. You were gonna take the taunt like a big girl and get it together — because the truth is, you had been distracted during practice today.

But not by your poor aching feet, but by the way Art watched your perfectly toned legs as you leaped and glided across that court like some well, ballerina.

How when just the sight of your hair braided in two knots with ribbons on the end just became all too much for him to bare. He pulled you aside, the chill down your spine was maddening as he whispered in your ear the kinds of things you did to him. The way you made him feel. The things you made him want to do to with your little body.

His tender and wondrous fingers had ended up clean beneath your skirt without hesitation. Brushing against the lining of your panties and you were up against Gatorade bottles and protein mix before you could form a real thought. He leaned into you, standing tall there above you. Having to raise to the tips of your toes for him to tuck his fingers were you needed him most. You could see the rare excitement of dominance take over a darker tone in his eyes as his fingers sold into your sweet aching cunt, too tight for more than a finger.

The pulse of your heat and the beat of your heart racing at an embarrassing rate. His strawberry blonde locks brushed your desperate expression with eas that you’d fall apart in his arms at any moment knowing how fragile a young thing like you had been when it was just the two of you and your defenses were at their weakest. “Mmh, Art.” You breathed out in a whine, grabbing his muscular arm rather quickly as you nearly lost balance.

“Say it. Tell me you weren’t thinking about anything other than my hand up your skirt on that court.” He slowed into your ear and you whimpered softly as another finger, long and coated with your wetness entered you at once. “I see right through you. The thoughts that wind up in that innocent little head. So desperate. So willing to give up your cunt to me…. Or Tashi.”

Playing shy and dumb up front, though he had been right.

You would bend over and take the moment they said — You had to fight back strangled moans as you felt yourself being stretched by just his two fingers. It was known to both him and Tashi that you were untouched. With strict ballet schedules, school, and endless nights staying up till two am doing chassé after chassé till your toes were sore, you hardly ever had the time for pleasure. It had been anything if kept hidden and burried deep for a ballerina of your training to be caught up exploring her sexual desires — so as of current Art still hadn’t taken you there fully. But warming you up easily with his glorious mouth and apposing fingers inside of you would start you off heavenly.

“Need it… n-need you.” you huffed as Arts hand slipped under your sports bra to squeeze your breast, quick to rub your sensitive bud under his touch as his lips passed yours. His fingers working at a rough pace at this point that you felt your stomach tighten and he reached a spot you didn’t even know had existed. A high pitched groan had left your lips and he locked with yours to keep you fairly quiet. Then just as you would feel that gracious rush of relief soon to be yours, hitting you like a flow off a mountain — that sly smile of mischief had grown on Arts lips, before pulling his hand out from your skirt, and pressing a kiss to your jaw.

“Alright.. good to know.” Is all he uttered before walking away. Walking back out on that court and leaving you there, practically soaked and needing more.

Fuck

You’ve never found yourself so sexually frustrated that it was a different kind of rush you weren’t exactly prepared for. You knew Tashi was the one who loved a good game, and Art came off so easy going to the get up, not needing much for the win — till it was time to touch you or Tashi. Then it had just been all game. All teasing. All begging for more. He craved it, lived for it.

“I asked if you understood.” Tashi’s voice had you coming back to your senses and into the present. Standing in front of the woman already bored of the entire conversation.

You did know that her taking you in at all even with your background being in a completely different kind of wave from her world, was a huge risk to her career and her name. You really were almost too fucking lucky enough to be standing in the home of star athletes like she and Art. To be more intertwined with them than anyone out there. Skin to skin and an intimacy that was almost spiritual.

So with that knowledge, you truly didn’t see it being beneath Tashi to send you back right where you came from. To which that made a burn in your chest.

You couldn’t lose what you had worked so hard for, you couldn’t lose her attention and so much care even if seemed distant. You couldn’t lose Art, not when you were this close to being finally one with him this time. They believed in you enough, and they’d know when you were ready. It’s not like you had any direction before you were chosen by them anyways.

Tashi was completely right, you were no longer just some ballerina trying to make it. You were gonna be theirs to keep — they were gonna love you, and everything you did, every step and hit on that court till it hurt. You were gonna make them proud. You were going to play some good fucking tennis.

You had looked up at Tashi, doe eyed yet tired with a nod, “I understand. Completely.”

A/N: this is the first time I haven’t done full on p in v smut since I wanted to keep it short and sweet bc I plan on turning this fic into a series hopefully :) I rly loved this idea and thought it was a unique spin on the challengers uv — also want to bring in some Patrick action asp so lmk what you think or where it can go from here !! I love feedback it’s sooo appreciated <3 xoxo

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punkshort · 1 year ago

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'the way we were' masterlist

18+, minors please do not interact, warnings/tags included for each chapter

Paring: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak (no Y/N)

AU (I kept was the outbreak and common characters. Joel's backstory is different, and the way he finds Jackson is different. No Ellie... yet.)

Fic Summary: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. When the outbreak happens, you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.

Fic tags: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Smut, unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex (m and f), fingering, masturbation (m and f), Language, Themes of death/depression that can be graphic at times, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader is 10 years younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, trauma, SA referencing later but I will put a big warning on those chapters

Status: complete

Look What We've Become - sequel

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen - Extra Scene

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Epilogue

I think most of these could be read stand alone, I tried to add a brief backstory to these if it was necessary

Chronological Order:

Moving Day

The Contractor

All Yours

Listen

Three Days (part one)

Recovery (part two)

credit to @cafekitsune for the dividers

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mazikeenhyde · 4 months ago

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Less than a minute...

(Ive decided to be brave, I always wanted to try my hand at writing fan fiction so here we go! If i got anything wrong, like warnings for example please let me know so i can fix it! )

WARNING –

A Poly!Judgment-Day fanfiction containing themes and mentions of DEPRESSION, LONLINESS, SOME SMUT, ANGST, SADNESS, ALCOHOL etc

Overall, I’m just trying to make you all cry…

READER X JUDGMENT DAY/POLY! – Rhea, Damien, Finn, Dominik x READER- Written in first person with Y/N (Reader Female)

Italic font – flashback, speech or memories

Less than a minute

The hotel room was quiet, the cheap TV fixed to the wall showing Monday night Raw on a low volume mixed in with the sounds of footsteps in the corridor, each sound filling the hot humid air. Outside the rain lashed down, heavy rainclouds hung low in the night sky blocking out the starlight, yet the full moon powered through, illuminating the streets, reflecting in the puddles that ran along the gutter line.

It was late, most of these anonymous guests rushing around just outside our door would be returning from busy work days to catch up on sleep or be heading out for a fun night on the town. A blissful life for most, a chance to escape their homes and stay in a bed with room service, maids to clean up after you and a reception for any assistance required! I hated it though; it wasn’t my choice but when you are on the road traveling for what felt like 300 days of the year with your partners there isn’t much of an option. A different country every month, a different state every week, Christ a different town every night. I longed for those one-off days where we were all free to do nothing. Something many people take for granted is the ability to do nothing, and I missed it.

Life felt far too chaotic, and despite being in a 5-way Polyamory relationship, I’d never felt so alone. I longed to go home, back to our own little house, we had been away for so long now. I could picture it, the front room shelves filled up high with my collection of books. My own little library I had spent a lifetime building now just collecting dust. The cabinets filled with Dominik’s board games that had bought about so many nights of endless laughter and equally some rather extreme arguments over winners, losers, cheaters and a half empty liquor cabinet that had been drained dry after a game of Scrabble. I still laugh now thinking back to when Rhea would demand the Alexa to define a word, we were sure Dominik had made up. Still, you could always rely on Finn to settle the score with a round of tequila shots and an accidental knock of the board.

“Oh no!” Finn would laugh as he ‘accidently’ kicked the board off and onto the floor.

“The board fell… guess we will have to play something else aye lass” he stated sarcastically, winking at me as he passed over one of the shot glasses.

“I wouldn’t say No to a game of Twister” Damien suggested, raising his eyebrows as he took his shot and ran his fingers down my back. I swear that man would give me goosebumps from the top of my head to the center of my core with just a passing look and that fiendish glint in his eye!

Rhea was quick to move herself over towards us resting her head in my lap, turning her view point to a more favored position. “I’ll second that” she smiled gently kissing the inner of my thigh, my breath was hitched, excited and on edge all at once.

“Well I’m calling it! I won..” Dominik stated with a huff as he began to pick the letter tiles up off the floor. Smirking over at him we each adorned a loveable gleam towards the boy. A little brat at the best and worst of times, but we wouldn’t have changed him for the world.

Moving Rheas head onto Damien’s lap where the two of them began their own little make out session I crawled my way round to Dom, helping collect the remaining tiles off the floor and boxing his board game up.

Smiling into his eye line I whispered ‘Never change who you are Dom Dom, We will always be here and we will always love you”

“What about when they break us up though?” he asked, I could hear the anxiety in his voice, his eyes. “I have to turn on Rhea and…and..”

I held him close, his hands holding tightly to my back and I could hear his gentle muffled cries.

“You’ll never be alone Dom, I love you so much. Even if I’m not always there to hold your hand, ill never be far away” I whispered in his ear.

“Less than a minuite?” he smiled.

-----

I couldn’t deny how much love I felt for each of them, work life had been tough for the four of them after the WWE had stated they would be splitting the group up to start a new storyline involving the likes of Liv Morgan, JD & Carlito. It didn’t stop the love we had for each other, but it certainly made traveling together difficult! I often reminded them that unlike myself none of them exactly blended into a crowd.

Sitting in the middle of this king size bed I pulled my knees up to my chest, I had stolen Damien’s hoodie and a pair of rhea’s gym shorts in the hopes of being comfortable enough to focus while I studied my textbooks, but alas tonight my mind was elsewhere. I had been studying Law for some time, it had always been such a passion of mine and thankfully no matter where we slept I could bring my books and get my head down while my partners entertained the world. It also came in quite handy when certain members of the group had one too many drinks on a night out and needed some help in escaping the police without legal prosecution. Dominik can tell the world he did hard time in jail all he likes, but it was me that got the little brat released early after a dramatic night with Rhea at his parents’ house on thanksgiving.

The WWE had offered me a position on their legal team once I had passed all my exams, yet that was over a year ago. I had deferred my exam date twice already, I wasn’t sure what was wrong with me but I didn’t feel the love, the passion or the joy I had done surrounding myself in plans for my future dream career, I was starting to worry I had wasted all these years for nothing.

Finn was always the voice of reason; he would often sit and help me revise while Rhea and Dom would shower together after the gym and Damien would take a nap. He was the voice of reason in the group, the glue that held us all together when things got tough. It was Finn that supported us all the most when our relationship went public, none of us had wanted to hide how we felt and the WWE were supportive, but that didn’t stop the online hate. The four of them were use to random strangers throwing insults due to the nature of their job, and thankfully I wasn’t of much interest to the fans. We had done our best to keep me away from the public eye, almost everyone just assumed I was part of the WWE teams supporting the group. There were a few fan speculation pages online who loved to play the guessing game but the majority saw me as nothing, as no one.

Finn always knew when something was wrong, he hadn’t wanted to leave me this evening but I had persuaded them all to go on the promise when they returned we could order in and cuddle up to watch a new release on tv if we connected Damien’s laptop.

“Chicken tenders! Ooh and nuggies?” Dom said, looking around the room in minor disbelief as we all looked at him with smiles. “What?” he asked.

“Really Dom? Chicken tenders, I’d never have guessed that bro. There’s me thinking you’d want Sushi!” Damien stated sarcastically with a smirk as he zipped up his duffel bag.

“Ew, raw fish? Bleugh! That’s gross!” Dom was genuinely disgusted at the idea.

“Hey! Don’t knock Sushi you little squinnie! Just because the rest of us have some foodie culture, your mother should have had you expand your pallet better!” I replied as I walked over and flicked Dom on the head. He was quick to wrestle me up and onto his shoulder, spinning me round onto the bed where he climbed on to pin me down.

“Uh Excuse me! I think you’ll find…Mami! has expanded my pallet just fine hermosa!” He stated, daring his lips closer to mine.

“Oh I bet..” I whispered to him closing the gap between us, our lips aching to touch. “Your pallet has had its fair share of tasting sessions aye Dom Dom”

Before he could respond Damien wrapped his arms around Dominik’s waste pulling him off me and planting him back down to earth, ruffling his hair upon release.

“Alright you two, break it off!” Damien patted Dom on the chest as he tossed over his rucksack from the chair. I bought my chest up leaning back on my hands winking at Dom as he scowled at me with a mix of frustration and cheek.

Rhea walked out from the bathroom with Finn following in tow, slapping Dom on the ass and wrapping her arm around his neck.

“Behave yourself Dom Dom” Rhea said before looking over at me on the bed, “You too Bunny, Brats be warned there will always be consequences.” She laughed and pulled Dom towards the hotel door blowing me a kiss as the two of them headed out to work. Damien followed suit leaning down on the bed to kiss my forehead.

“Te amo, Hermosa” he held the back of my neck touching foreheads before following Rhea and Dom.

“Ill catch up with you three downstairs” Finn said and Damien gave him a thumbs up as he headed out the hotel room door and closed it behind them.

Finn took a seat next to me on the bed as I sat up properly and moved to the edge, adorning one of those fake convincing smiles that had worked so many times before.

“A night of studying then? We won’t be back too late I promise, you can pick the film tonight. I dread another of Rheas slasher films aye. We will be up all night watching the door” Finn said with a gentle nudge to my shoulder. I just nodded, unsure of how to respond. It was strange, I could hide myself in the love and laughter I felt for them all, the never ending flirting and sexual frustration that would build when we were in a room. But a reminder of the real world, of the real life we were living was enough to shatter my dreams back to reality. Every day was blending into one, the repetitive endeavors were tearing my soul apart. Tears began to fill the corners of my eyes as I was quick to stand and rub them away taking a sharp breath. I knew inside I was breaking, I was like a ticking time bomb and I needed to protect them all. Finn leapt up to his feet spin me around and face him.

“Y/N, listen to me lass, you know we all love you. No matter what, no matter how hard it all gets, whether you sit the exams and pass or fail.” Finn held his hands to my face cupping my cheeks.

Finn had suspected something was wrong for a while, he and Rhea had sat down with me before to talk. They knew about my past, the scars I had whilst silver and faded now were a window into a past life I had battled for so long to break free from, always terrified it would find me again. I was like a rabbit in headlights when it all got to much, I would freeze in fear of my mind running away with my sanity. Hence the nickname Bunny.

“I don’t know what is wrong with me..” My voice was fragile, broken.

Finn held me in a close hug, his warm embrace relighting the fire inside my chest, a willing to keep going forward. The serenity was quickly broken by a car horn beeping outside followed by a text alert on Finns phone.

BRAT NO.2 -

“Oi! Save some of her for the rest of us Finn >_< get your ass down here! We’re gonna be late!”

Finn shook his head, “That boy tests my patience to its limit at the best of times, ive a good mind to put him over my knee’

I laughed wiping my eyes with my sleeves “Only if you let me watch”

He smiled and held me close, “I can stay, if that’s what you need?”

I shook my head and released him from the hug, “No. its okay, you go kick ass! I’m gonna jump in the shower and try to get in a quick nap before I crack on with those books, can’t defer the exam forever!”

“We will be back before you know it” Finn said softly

“Less than a minute?” I half smiled

“Less than a minute” He returned the all too familiar phrase. Finn kissed my forehead before getting his bag of the chair and reaching into his pocket to get his phone that had started to ring. He answered the call whilst slumping his bag over his shoulder and nodding his head goodbye to me before heading out the door.

“Dominik, I am telling you now! I swear to god if you don’t…” Finns voice faded out as he continued down the hotel hallway, the door closing behind him.

Taking a deep breath I shook off the heavy emotional cloak weighing me down and headed for the shower.

4 HOURS LATER -

Looking around the rather large hotel room we had booked for the night I came to wonder; anyone would have thought we would have been used to this horrendous decor by now. No matter where we stayed every room felt much the same, whether it was the dismal wall art, low pressure shower heads or dull painted walls that felt like they were closing in. Though I knew the others were not fazed by it, they very rarely spent a lot of time in these rooms, aside from catching up on missed sleep or dancing the devils tango with any sparing energy the four of them would be in the gym or at the WWE training centers for live shows or TV.

Sitting here I couldn’t steady my mind, I felt lost, lonely, empty even. It wasn’t their fault, they showered me in affection, I could want for nothing but more time with them. Yet it wasn’t that either, no amount of time in the arms of Rhea could fix the damage, she was the only woman I could love with the entirety of my heart, but as incredible as she was, even Rhea Bloody Ripley couldn’t fight off the demons inside me.

The deeper I looked the more the world felt wrong. It all felt alien, uneasy, I wondered if it was just me, was I the problem? I checked the time, just after 10pm, they would be back soon enough, why did that bring about such panic, an anxiety drowning my heart, my breathe hitched and I felt it. You just know don’t you, it could have been years, weeks, days, hours or minutes that you had been fighting the voices in your head, the devil on your shoulder, but I was so lost in it all I just wanted to be alone.

Slipping off the bed I pulled on my socks and trainers and headed for the door. Pausing in the doorway I felt my heart sink a little, maybe this was it, maybe I wasn’t what I had promised I would be.

A single tear fell down my cheek as I closed the hotel room door behind me, leaving my phone and keys on the nightstand. I needed to break free, only time would tell how long for, but I needed to feel. I needed to escape the War inside my head and the only way I knew how to do that, was to run.

1 HOUR LATER -

Rhea and Dom walked through the carpark with his arm wrapped around her waist as they headed towards the rental car. It had been a hard night for them and all they wanted was to climb into bed with their girl and sleep. Damien followed just behind the both of them carrying the groups bags. Finn bringing up the rear of the group was locked into his phone, his face filled with concern for their girl who hadn’t responded to a single text all evening. They had received a message from the WWE management team that they could leave early to limit fan interaction ahead of SummerSlam.

Climbing into the rental car Dom, Rhea and Damien waited for Finn.

“Maybe she fell asleep studying?” Dom asked as Finn sat in the back passenger seat.

Rhea had her phone up to her ear listening to a never ending ringing on the other end, Voicemail again. “Bunny? please call me back.” She ended the call and looked up to Damien in the drives seat.

“Priest, Floor it!”

--------

Reaching the hotel all four of them raced from the car inside, adrenaline fed through them as they reached the hotel room.

Hands shaking Rhea swiped the card multiple times before holding it still long enough to enter. The realization. The Silence. It was deafening.

Damien rushed in to check the bathroom as Finn scrambled around the room with Dom, looking for something, for someone they knew wasn’t there. Rhea stood frozen in the doorway, in silence, her eyes locked in.

“Rhea?” Dom hastily rushed over, hand on her shoulder as he turned to her eye line. There it was, on the bedside table.

Finn edged his way over to the bedside as Damien came back into the room. Hands shaking nervously Finn reached down and picked up Y/N phone and hotel keycard.

They all shared a look between each other, a look of fear and confusion. What were they meant to do now? Where did Y/N go?

“I shouldn’t of left her…” Finn held the phone tightly pacing the same two steps over. “I could see it, I saw it, I shouldn’t of left her…” Finn repeated again.

“Finn?” Dom hesitantly questioned his actions.

Rheas demeanor quickly turned and she slammed her hand against the doorframe and rushed out followed by Finn and Damien desperate to find their girl.

“Dom stay here! In case she comes back!” Damien yelled, he paused in the hall before rushing back to the room and holding Dominick’s face in his hands. “We will find her, I promise, we will all be back before you know it” Damien kissed his forehead before turning and running back out the door.

Dom was frozen on the spot, he couldn’t move, he looked around the room at abandoned study books, half unpacked suitcases and clothing discarded on the floor. He felt smaller than ever before, his heartbeat felt cold, his chest filled with butterflies and his hands cold to touch.

Walking over to the window that stood from floor to ceiling he held his hand to his chest tearing up at the rain lashing down outside . “Less than a minute?”

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olderthannetfic · 13 days ago

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if you don't mind me sending yet another personal questions on anon... i'm in my mid-20s, single, and pro-abortion because i'd rather fetuses not be born rather than abandoned or died of hunger or stunted from malnutrition. i'm from a third-world country so it's very common here and it's very sad to me. i'm not exactly poor though, more like middle class, i guess?

recently my coworkers talked about getting married and having children. one of them said "i've seen old people without children and no one takes care of them. also, an old person's happiness is mostly from watching their children grow up. that can never be replaced with anything." it sounds a little bit weird to me, but i'm not sure if it's because i'm single and have never looked up about parenting and children before, so i asked "but isn't it selfish to give life to children because you want someone to take care of you/you don't want to die alone? and aren't there other sources of happiness?" they reiterated that watching your children grow up is a different kind of happiness and that "having someone to take care of you is not the main goal, but it's gained anyways" but the way they said it sounds like it's the main goal to me because they don't state any other goals like "i want a footballer kid" or "i want a kid to take them on trips" or even "to continue the bloodline in the name of evolution". i honestly don't really get it.

i mean, they're free to think whatever they want as long as they don't abandon their children, but it brings me to a dilemma. i'm scared of dying alone and missing out on watching my own children grow up. but also, i don't think i'm ready to have children due to my mental capacity and lack of parenting skills. i'm scared of being selfish; what if my child turns out unhappy and depressed like me? what even is MY main goal? i have so many that i want to do, like travelling around the world, but eventually all my goals will be fulfilled and i'll have spare money, but i'll be less mobile when i grow up, and being pregnant is more dangerous as you grow older.

i'm still single so i think i have time to think about it, but it creeps on me like a ticking timer. since you and some of your readers are older and have probably went through this dilemma, what do you think? what even brought you to the point where you're set on having/not having children?

Yes, people are absolute morons about children.

In the context of the US, we have shit health care and a shameful dearth of ways to care for our elderly, disabled, or terminally ill. Most of the work falls to family. It is absolutely true that people with kids have a better shot of reasonable end of life care...

However, that's going to depend on where you live, and you could easily end up estranged from your kids or your kid could get hit by a bus or something. Treating something as major as parenthood as a guarantee of in-home nursing is fucking stupid in any country.

Different kind of happiness, my ass.

I'm happy I managed to have a kid after leaving it pretty late. My baby is delightful. I still don't see how this is that different from a best friend or a hobby. I think a lot of people are just boring and have no idea how to be rabidly passionate about their hobbies. They also have no idea how to build emotional intimacy. If they can't make a bff who'd nurse them through cancer, they probably can't instill those feelings in their kid either.

Most people find conception just fine up through the mid 30s. Late 30s even. I had to do IVF because I waited into my 40s. The pregnancy was still fine. The birth sucked because I didn't yell at the hospital staff forcefully enough or have a good enough advocate with me, but it still turned out okay. The medical part should be a relatively small part of your calculation unless you have reason to think the local medical system will make pregnancy particularly dangerous.

For me... I'd always assumed I'd have one. I didn't find the right partner, but I did run out of time. I pictured what my life would look like in five years with a kid. What would we be doing together? And I liked that picture, so I went for it.

One thing that helped a lot was that my mother was perpetually too busy running a business but did genuinely care. She left me alone to pursue my own hobbies a lot and did not hover because she was always doing ten thousand things, including her own stack of hobbies.

Most parenting content is about as pleasant as cleaning out a latrine. It's all full of "Do these seventy-two things every single morning or you're a Bad Mother™" and pretending like kids need your overbearing personality squashing them 24/7.

I like to joke "Well, you have to know which end goes up, and you have to feed them occasionally."

Thousands of years of imperfect people did manage not to drop the baby on its head. We even have vaccines now. You would be fine.

Also, my mother absolutely did drag me around the world when I was little. She got a chance to go visit Indonesia with a gamelan she used to play with when I was four and a half, so off we went. I had to completely change how I ate because it was all random homestays in the mid 80s, and the food they had was the food they had. Mom didn't think twice about this.

The biggest parenting error people make—not just personal happiness error but child emotional health error—is stopping living their lives because kids somehow need some bullshit normie fantasy of staying home forever and doing nothing interesting. You need to make a lot of time to do things with the kid, but those can be the things you actually like, not shit from a canned list of child appropriate activities.

If you are never "selfish", you will only teach your child that they cannot have both a kid of their own and a life.

Children need consistency, but that consistency is you caring about them and being around, not you giving up ever having personal time or interests.

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stonedcoldfoxtarot · 2 years ago

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How you will step into your rich bitch era + advice

Pile 1 -> Pile 2 -> Pile 3

Pile 1:

3oS, 9oP, World, 5oW, Empress (AoW)

I see that some of you may have recently experienced a setback in your career or personal life that was mostly outside of your control. For many of you, this may have been in the form of an unexpected job loss or an expensive and contentious divorce or separation. However, I see this situation as a blessing in disguise because whatever you lost had already outgrown its usefulness in your life. For many of you, this misfortune has already led to an unexpected material gain and an increased feeling of self-confidence in your ability to stand on your own two feet. If not, I see this set back being short lived, as you are now well on your way to stepping into your winning season.

Deep down you know the world is yours, and from here on out I see you will be working to achieve a level of self-mastery that allows you to realize all of your goals. Some of you may decide to work in the field of Project Management or Marketing and PR, while others of you may be interested in careers that involve lots of international travel or relocating to a different country. I see that whatever path you choose Pile 1, you have the determination and fortitude to take on the competition and still come out on top.

For a few of you, I feel you could also be fighting with yourself or feeling divided about which direction to take next. You have a lot of different skills that could take you in completely opposite directions and you might be struggling to focus on or pick just one option. However, I see that once you figure out which path to choose you will move forward with determination until you reach a life that resembles the one you’ve always dreamed of. Whatever you decide to do, keep moving forward Pile 1 because it only gets better from here!

Advice: 9oP

Always remember that you have full control over your financial abundance and success. Start cultivating your dream life by building upon the work you have already done and you will be amazed at how quickly things begin to fall into place. If you’ve felt compelled to pursue a career that provides you with the freedom to set your own schedule, you are being advised to explore other options outside of a traditional 9 to 5.

Pile 2

AoW, Empress rev, Chariot, 10oP, Magician (9oP)

If you're not already self-employed, I see that many of you have a lot of creative ideas in your mind that are just waiting to be acted upon or brought to life. For some of you, I see that in the past you may have experienced periods of stagnation in your career which of course left you feeling frustrated and angry or even depressed. At some point, you may have felt rejected in your previous efforts or that others did not recognize all that you really have to offer. If that resonates, I see you are now focused on balancing your emotions surrounding past failures and regaining control over your circumstances as you dust yourself off and try your luck again. Pile 2, many of you are incredibly talented and hard working. I’m hearing that all that is needed to step into your rich bitch era is for you to confidently move forward towards the direction of your dreams, knowing that what is meant for you is already yours.

In fact, pile 2, once you find your niche or begin to put in work towards a new project or idea, I see you quickly becoming unstoppable! Many of you are visionaries and forward thinkers, possessing the strength and vitality necessary to bring your creative ideas or business ventures to fruition in a way that most others cannot. You have a natural talent for thinking outside the box, and this is what makes you so powerful. Regardless of any losses you may have faced in the past, you have all the resources and strength needed to pursue whatever you desire in this lifetime. For many of you, I see that success and abundance are right around the corner, if it’s not already here now. And if you are not self-employed or an independent contractor, I see that you will find success as an entrepreneur once you combine your creative ideas with your knack for selling, investing or bringing in money from multiple sources. I see that some of you may end up retiring early and living off of several streams of passive income or interest & residuals. Pile 2, your life has the potential to be the embodiment of the phrase “work smarter, not harder.”

Advice: Justice

Pile 2, if you have been feeling lost, confused or unbalanced in your career, you are being advised to seek out ways to bring fairness, clear-thinking and balance back into your life. Some of you may be a Libra sun, moon or rising, as represented by The Justice card, or you may feel naturally drawn towards a job or career in the legal field. Those of you who resonate with this card are powerful decision-makers who have reached perfect equilibrium between the intuitive and the intellectual mind. To step into your abundant era, focus on restoring balance in your life, especially emotional balance, so that you can allow the laws of karma to begin working in your favor once again.

Pile 3

10oP, 5oC, 9oC, 8oS, Magician (High Priestess)

Pile 3, I see that many of you have achieved financial abundance and prosperity in the past, but you may have also recently experienced financial losses or setbacks which have effected you quite deeply. Some of you may have been let go from a large company or corporation, or you feel stuck in a dead end job, trying to make ends meet as your costs rise and your savings continue to dwindle. Despite this, I see you haven’t lost hope for a new beginning, as you still really desire to live a life full of abundance and financial freedom like you did once before.

Pile 3, I see here that some of you are not recognizing your own power or that you give it away easily to those who may not have your best interest at heart. There could also be an issue with you simply wishing for things to get better instead of taking action to go after what it is you truly want. I feel this could be due to a fear of failure or of making a decision and being stuck with it. I also feel that some of you may feel stuck or trapped due to internal or external pressures, some of which might stem from your past, your childhood or the unealistic expectations set upon you by others.

However, I see that as you begin to harness the power of your mind to plan, direct and create your ideal life, things will slowly but surely begin to turn around for you. Many of you may be blessed with the ability to easily manifest your desires. Pile 3, your minds are incredibly powerful! In fact, you may be the type who has to stay mindful of your thoughts and words, as you have the power to easily speak things into existence. If you can see it in your mind’s eye, you can achieve it. (I’m hearing the lyrics to I Believe I Can Fly by R. K*lly, so maybe that song might resonate with some of you). The Magician is attributed to Mercury, and deals with communication, intellect and action, so some of you may find you are naturally drawn to careers that allow you to express your thoughts on paper or speak directly with others. You may be great at giving speeches or lectures, writing manuals and SOPs or anything that requires being good at both effective communication and teaching or motivating others. Many will see your success and look up to you in this lifetime, Pile 3. Just remember, what it meant for you will ever ever pass you by. You just have to be willing to go out there and get it.

Advice: High Priestess

Remember that all success and failure begins in the mind. You can manifest your conscious desires by harnessing the power of telepathy, clairvoyance, and intuitive communication to receive insight into your current situation. Here you are being advised to utilize your conscious mind to bring your creative ambitions to life and tap into your intuitive side to receive the answers you’re looking for, instead of manifesting from a place of fear or uncertainty.

Thanks for reading🔮✨

#pac reading #pick a card #pick a picture #pick a pile #intuitive readings #tarot #tarot reading #pac #stonedcoldfoxtarot

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tarotwithavi · 2 years ago

Text

Random things about your 2023 . Short reading

Masterlist ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ paid reading

✧༺♥༻✧

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

1 2 3

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Pile 1

Hello pile 1 , I'm seeing that you're very closed off to new opportunities right now and might be addicted or obsessed with something that isn't good for you and life will make you get rid of your toxic habits by a tower moment in your life. You just have some toxic cycles going repeating constantly in your life and it is going to change in the year 2023 .

Pile 1 , I see you getting your spiritual awakening in the year 2023 . This is going to be a tough cycle for you but remember it's for the best of you. I see that sometimes you might feel like doing nothing and just letting things flow on their own pace.

You have a weird way of looking at people, I'm sorry but weird is not the right word for it but it's just that you see people as something you should stay away from and you see World as a dangerous place. And that's why you mostly stay indoors. That perspective of you is good to change soon after you have your awakening.

I get that you might suffer from seasonal depression and it might be in the months of may - june. These two months are going to be life changing for you. Something great with happen in these two months that'll make you love life again.

I don't know if you know about Krishna consciousness, but it's a great thing. I've heard that it works wonders for people and changes their life for the best.

If you're thinking of travelling abroad I see you travelling in different countries.

You might get financial help from someone or you're going to help someone financially.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Pile 2

Alright pile 2 , 2023 is going to be your rich bitch era. Like money is going to be attracted to you. If you're family is having some financial problems they are going to be solved.

I see you connecting more with a female figure in your family. It could be your mother, grandmother , sister or even your best friend.

If are manifesting something right now , I see all of your manifestations coming true in the year 2023 .

If your into LGBTQ community I see coming out to your family and your family accepting you the way your are. This message is specifically for my lesbians, you're going to get a girlfriend.

My artists are going to get a lot of recognition for their artwork! And I see a lot of you getting in tune with your inner child.

If you live away from your family , I see you reuniting with them. And going out for a picnic with them. This year is very positive for this pile! It's so sweet!

A lot of you are going to meet your twinflame / soul mate soon. You'll most likely meet them through family or friends. I'm seeing a celebration, so you can meet them in a party, wedding etc.

I see you finding your soul purpose and destiny. I don't know it just came into my mind. I am seeing a boat reaching the coast idk take how it resonates.

If you've been manifesting your other half, I see you meeting your counterpart. A lot of you are going to experience true love.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Pile 3

Pile 3 I feel like you're not listening to your intuition and that might get you in a toxic Situationship. If your get odd feelings from someone like goosebumps , odd feeling in your guts stay away form that person. They're not good for you.

Alright so what I sense is that you might encounter a fake tarot reader or a scammer so stay alert. If someone tells you to do spells on your own , never do it. Because spells are very powerful and they can backfire.

Though it's okay if you do beauty rituals like having aura cleansing bath, a simple beauty spell . But love spells can back fire very easily. And never I mean NEVER involve yourself in black magic.

I see getting a lot of proposals from men who want to court you. Choose Carefully because one of them might be a obsessive lover.

If don't have good relations with your father, you might need to cut your relations with him. More like I see that your father is too controlling and you decide to go against him which will result in some arguments.

I See you reuniting with your old friends.

I see you getting victory and recognition for your work. But remember not to be over prideful ( lol is that even a word? )

If you're pregnant I see you giving birth to a healthy baby boy. And if you're thinking of having a baby I see you conceiving. '

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

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princesssascha · 6 months ago

Text

Summer Glow Up Action Plan (1/3 - Health)

As I mentioned in my previous post, we are going to have the best summer of our lives.

I was depressed for years, but during the summer, in just 2 months I became truly unrecognisable.

I did it unintentionally, but I believe I cracked the code to glowing up insanely fast. That is, if you're willing to get out of your comfort zone for a few weeks. But what's worse? Being uncomfortable for 2 months doing something that is good for you OR suffering for years? I'll let you answer that for yourself.

Thanks to my experience I made an action plan to make this summer even better and I'd love to do it together with YOU.

1. Mental Health

If your soul is shattered, your body will reflect that. By taking care of your mind you will automatically want to take care of yourself in every other way. Not because you think you're not pretty enough or smart enough, but because you deserve to be healthy and educated.

Get out of your comfort zone

Whatever that is. Last year I went abroad all by myself. I was so insecure about my English and I was soo socially awkward, but I did it. And when I tell you it was the most special feeling in the world. It was stressful at first, but I came back as a new person. I think it was the main factor that contributed to my mental glow up.

Obviously, you don't have to travel to a different country to glow up, but think about what's something you'd like to try that you're afraid to do. Maybe it's bungee jumping, going out to a restaurant alone, coming up to someone on the street. It is supposed to make you uncomfortable, it's called exposure therapy and it is really one of the best things that I have ever stumbled across.

Meditate

It's popular for a reason. Quiet your mind, control your breathing. You can also do yoga, as it requires the same things as meditation, however you also get physical exercise! Start with 5-10 minutes a day and work your way up to whatevers comfortable for you. You can try guided meditation/yoga for beginners.

Go outside

There's a reason why people tell you it's so important.

First, you get physical exercise, you get fit, you get healthy and everyone's happy.

Like actually happy. Physical exercise (the kind you enjoy ofc!) and being outdoors is proven to be good for your mental health. So go out. You can go somewhere crowded or somewhere isolated like a forest. You can take your pet on a walk if you have one.

Self development content

Especially YouTube, I get that some people can't get themselves to read books, but nowadays there are so many ways to educate ourselves. I will mention this topic again in this post, but I love watching YouTubers that post self development & mindset videos.

My favourite YouTubers are:

TheWizardLiz,

Mae Alice Suzuki,

Tam Kaur

If you like reading I recommend Brianna West, she's incredible.

Affirmations

I am such a fan of affirmations! If you feel bad about yourself start affirming the opposite? You feel insecure? "I am confident" etc. You don't want to affirm out loud. You can do it in your mind or listen to affirmation tapes. Even if you don't feel like it's doing anything KEEP PERSISTING! Your mind will conform.

2. Physical Health

This chapter focuses on health, not beauty, although they are connected. If you're unhealthy you won't be that attractive, because we find health attractive. So here I'll share more advice on being healthier rather than getting a sexier body. Healthy>sexy because HEALTH is SEXY!!

Vitamins and supplements

You can't be healthy if you have a vitamin deficiency. Get a blood test and start taking supplements for what you need.

Here's a little cheat sheet, although please do your own research to be safe and be mindful of what dosage you can ingest!!

Visit a doctor regularly!

If you are getting a disease it's important to diagnose it as soon as possible. In some cases it could save your life!

You need to go to your doctor at least once a year, but you should visit them at least twice a year and whenever you have any concerns. That includes a dentist, gynecologist, dermatologist etc. Although I understand not everyone has free healthcare and there are many reasons why it could be difficult for you to get there, at least go to one doctor once a year or when you suspect something is wrong.

Check up on yourself every month

Of course, you're not gonna go to the doctor every month, so it's important to do a little check up yourself every month. Here are a few things to keep in mind:

- what does your skin look like?

Are there any new moles? Maybe some spots? Just because you have a mole doesn't mean it's dangerous, but a mole could turn into skin cancer, so please be careful! Here are a few tips for recognising if a mole is actually a melanoma:

Melanoma is more likely the paler you are, but no matter what your skin color is you should always wear at least SPF30, although the higher the better. If sunscreens are too greasy for you or leave a whitecast I recommend Missha All-around safe block

Look at your skin, did anything strange appear? Something that wasn't there before? Don't forget about the inside of your mouth or between your toes. Although not very common, melanoma can also appear in your eye, in which case you need to contact a doctor ASAP!!

oral health

I don't think I need to tell you to wash your teeth, but I will still share some tips for those pretty teeth:

Oil pulling: get a spoonful of coconut oil and oil pull for 10-20 minutes. After that rinse your mouth thoroughly.

Wash your teeth for at least 2 minutes after every meal and after waking up, HOWEVER if you eat something acidic wait for at least 30 minutes until you wash your teeth. If you can't wash them rinse your mouth with water, but you should still wash them when you get home.

Use a tongue scraper! Like one of those steel/metal ones and scrape that bad boy. It is honestly disgusting how much bacteria sits on your tongue. There are also 2in1 tongue scrapers and flosses but it won't scrape anything off, so save your money. Also, only use flosses when necessary.

CHECK FOR CAVITIES!!

Seriously! I don't think it needs any explanation. Open your mouth and show your teeth. Look at how they look. If there's anything concerning contact your dentist.

skincare

Although it also suits the beauty part, what we find beautiful is just healthy. No skin conditions, clear glowy skin. What skin concerns do you have? Acne, hyperpigmentation, redness etc. Visit a dermatologist or find some skincare yourself, although do it carefully. Just because something is trendy doesn't mean it's good. Everyone's skin is different, so be mindful.

Also, there are different kinds of pimples, so check which types you have and how you can heal them. You can have just one or multiple kinds.

One universal thing: SPF! CANT STRESS THIS ENOUGH!

haircare

Just like with skincare, healthy hair is what we find beautiful. That's why I emphasize health so much. If you're healthy you are beautiful.

I won't talk about styling right now as it has nothing to do with health, but haircare is 80% of the job.

Is your hair greasy or dry? Keep in mind it can be both, your scalp could be greasy but your ends could be dry. Do you have thick hair or thin hair? Curly or straight? If you bleached your hair it means your hair is damaged (because it's dead), but your hair can be damaged nonetheless, so think about what you need and find products that were made for your concerns.

Learn how to wash your hair correctly. A lot of you guys don't know how to do it. Just because you rub shampoo on your head doesn't mean you're doing it right. And when you're not it could do more harm than good. I recommend theblowoutprofessor on YouTube, he explains it well.

Healthy eating

This is a pretty obvious one so I won't get into details, however if you guys want me to make a post dedicated to healthy eating lemme know in the comments!

Eat veggies and fruits, limit Ur sugar intake. Don't starve yourself, you'll have uncontrollable cravings and you'll get it all back.

move your body

Although good for you both mentally and physically, it's important to choose something you like. Here are my favourite forms of physical activity:

Dancing,

Yoga,

Pilates,

Walking,

Horse riding.

If you don't have a favourite right now, experiment. It doesn't have to be expensive, there are many sports that you can do at home with no equipment.

Try to move for at least 30 minutes/day.

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thisismeracing · 1 year ago

Text

MICK DATING A K-POP IDOL | MS47

― Warnings: mentions of family members; not proofread. ― A/n: Just a quick reminder that there are many shades, experiences, and backgrounds when it comes to Asian people and their culture, what I am writing does not resume everything, but rather brings a piece of it to the table. <;3 ― Based on this requested here

✷ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ✷ you can support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment(don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

Everyone always took Mick as the country music type of guy, so when he started liking things about K-pop and added a few music from the genre to his official F1 playlist fans started to suspect something was up;

And as it happens, it was because a few weeks later you were walking on the paddock and getting to the Mercedes garage. Getting to Mick;

Your relationship was quick to become public, and Mick would attend concerts whenever he could;

It took him some time to get used to how famous you were. And how you would be giving him gits regularly, but everything you gave was always so thoughtful, especially when he got a song for his birthday - a whole song about how much he was your sunshine boy;

He loved watching your choreographies and would totally ask you to show them to him whenever you're home together.

You guys would share a bunch of stuff about your cultures. Constantly traveling between Asia and Europe between the holidays;

Mick was also the first boyfriend your fandom actively shipped. He would be all flush and happy about it, especially when he attended concerts, and some fans asked him for pics too;

He would put your songs to play in the garage, no questions asked;

Not only would Mick love watching you dance, but he would also try to learn some moves himself;

Would love it whenever you sang at home. Like truly love it;

The proudest boyfriend;

Would wear your merch around like one wears a wedding ring and proudly shows the world;

Mick would get into other K-pop groups too, and you would love to see him immerse in the culture;

Truly the sweetest and most comprehensive boyfriend you could've asked for.

― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi, besties! I hope you guys like this piece! I don't know much about K-pop, so if anything is inaccurate or something please just let me know!🤍 make sure to let me know your thoughts by reblogging and leaving me an ask!

Side note: Thank you for the request, nonny! It's been a beat since I last heard K-pop music, and I did while writing this piece - it was so much fun!! <3

taglist: @sachaa-ff @ferrariloverr @mickslover @mishaandthebrits @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie @fdl305 @saintslewis @carojasmin2204 @chaoticevilbakugo @wondergirl101ks @smiithys @shhhchriss @f1kota @lunnnix @karmabyfernando @crashingwavesofeuphoria @schumacheer @leclercsluv @v1naco @callsign-scully @heelariously @dearxcherry @elliegrey2803 @he6rtshaker @peachiicherries @therealcap @mehrmonga @cixrosie @thatgibbsygirl @the-depressed-fellow @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @nichmeddar @fastcarsandshit @goldenalbon @balekanemohafe @jamie2305 @skepvids @scopeiguess @nzygftoji @princewis @bbreezybitch @graciewrote

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©thisismeracing ― Do not copy, steal, or translate my work. Do not repost on a different media platform.

#singer!reader #kpop idol!reader #ms47 #mick schumacher #f1 x reader #f1 imagines #mick schumacher headcanon #f1 fandom #mick schumacher x reader #f1 x asian!reader #asian!reader #op: headcanons #f1 x you #f1 fic #formula one imagine

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afictionaladventure16 · 2 years ago

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Heyyy!!! I absolutely loved your latest work “Taking it All In” I haven’t stopped crying since I read it. I was wondering if you could write something about the depression that the reader has in the story. Something along the lines where reader has been skipping school for some time due to depression and she hasn’t told Pedro about it. He finds out cuz eventually the school calls him and tells him whats going on with your absences and your bad grades. You two get into a fight about it because you refuse to tell him what’s going on as to not worry your dad. After days of not talking, cold shoulders and staying in your room/bed as much as possible Pedro finally cracks and tries to talk to you again. You’re in laying on your bed not wanting to move while Pedro is talking to you and he notices small cuts on your arm that your trying to hide, way to linear to be from your cat, and he finally puts the pieces together.

Taking It All In Pt. II (Pedro Pascal x Daughter!Reader)

Pt. 1

Word Count: 4.3 k

Warnings: Descriptions of Self-harm, mentions of depression, suicide, and some slight hinting of eating disorders.

A/N: Thank you! You're so sweet! I hope you like this part two of Taking it All in!! Also, thank you for the details in your requests! It helps to plan what to write!

It’s been months after that hike with your father. You had gotten help, but it only helped so much. You had this fear that if you told your therapist your actual thoughts, you’d end up somewhere where grippy socks were mandatory.

It didn’t help that you found your mother, you hadn’t told your father, but you searched and searched the internet until you found her. The woman who was so afraid of loving you, afraid of having a life with your dad, she was alive and well.

She was happy too. You would think it would make you feel happy to hear that she was happy, to see the photos of her and her family, her two kids and husband. But all it did was take you to a dark place. The images of her at her sons' soccer game, or her at her daughters' recital. It should be you in those photos with her.

This whole time you thought your mother was most likely dead or if she were alive, she was alone in some other country probably traveling. You didn’t ever imagine that she could have started another life. You hadn’t brought it up to your therapist, mostly because they’ve been trying to help you cope with other issues in your life. It was mostly how you felt about constantly having to travel from place to place or not having your father around as much, it meant a lot of journaling. Plus, if you told your therapist, it meant telling your father and you didn’t know how he’d react or if he already knew.

What if he already knew. You hadn’t thought of that, it was another scenario that could happen, another scenario you don’t know if you can handle.

You heard the front door open and then close, “I’m home!” You heard your dad call out.

You sighed to yourself, you had ditched another day of school, but luckily for you your dad left for meetings before you even got up. Meaning that it was easy to ditch. In fact, you hadn’t gone to school at all the past week.

Pedro was met with silence, he shrugged, “probably studying,” he muttered to himself. He made his way over to the kitchen to get dinner started. He wasn’t the best cook in the world, but he knew a thing or two.

You made your way down the hall, “There she is!” Pedro said as he heard your footsteps get closer, “Hey, I was thinking, how does spaghetti sound tonight?” You walked over to the fridge, grabbing the bottle of apple juice.

“Sure,” you said with a shrug. You poured yourself a cup of apple juice, putting away the bottle right after.

“Long day at school?” You gave him a nod. “Alright, well, go ahead and rest. I’ll let you know when dinner is ready.” You felt horrible for lying to him. He had thought everything was getting better and that you were beginning to feel happier, but it was all just a lie. It was a mask.

** mentions of self-harm begin here **

You walked back to your bedroom, closing the door behind you. You felt tears begin to well up in your eyes. The lying, the feeling of abandonment, everything, it just felt like it was all tumbling down. You pulled up your sleeves, revealing the linear cuts that you had done to yourself. It started off with something small, hitting your hands against something when you were mad, but the pain felt kind of nice.

Not kind of, it did feel nice. It took away the pain of everything in your mind for a moment and you liked it. You liked your mind being peaceful for just a moment. But those moments only lasted a few seconds and you needed something that would last longer. You had saw some girls with some cuts on their wrists at school, it wasn’t till one day you aksed one of the girls what they were while you both were in the bathroom. The girl seemed a bit embarrassed but you were genuinely curious. She explained what they were, but she didn’t explain it further.

For weeks you couldn’t help but think about it, but the thought of hurting yourself in that way seemed scary. What if you went too deep or if you got caught? But a week ago, when your dad had to work late, you felt yourself drowning in your thoughts. Hitting yourself against your bedframe wasn’t working. That was the night you first self-harmed, you felt lucky that the weather was getting cold again so hiding your scars was easy.

Your dad played some music while he began to boil the pasta. Your cat watched from the other side of the counter, he knew his boundaries and Pedro seemed to like the company. Pedro began to slowly dance to the rhythm of the song playing until it was cut off by the sound of ringtone, “That’s not part of the song,” he grumbled as he grabbed his phone.

The number looked familiar, he hesitated on answering, “Could be important or a scam,” he muttered. He shrugged to himself before answering the phone, “hello?”

“Hi! This is Linda from the JFK High School, may I speak to Y/N Pascal’s father?”

“This is he speaking,” Pedro responded. He had no clue why your school would be calling.

“Hi, Mr. Pascal! We’ve been trying to get a hold of you for the past few days, it wasn’t until we looked through our files that we realized we had an old phone number.”

“Ah, yes, I changed my number. Probably should’ve updated you guys on that,” is that it? He thought.

“It’s quite alright, but the real reason why we’ve been trying to get ahold you is because we’ve noticed that Y/N hasn’t been attending her classes for the past week.”

Pedro stopped what he was doing, placing the wooden spoon he had in his hand down on the counter, “I’m sorry, you must be mistaken.”

“I’m afraid not. Her teachers are beginning to worry now that her grades have been slipping and she hasn’t been showing up. We were wondering if maybe the family went on vacation and someone forgot to notify the school?”

“N-No, we’re not on vacation,” Pedro looked towards the hall.

“Well, is there any reason why she hasn’t been in school?”

“I-I don’t know, I thought she had been going to clases this whole time.”

“Will she be there on Monday?”

“She’ll be there Monday,” he stated.

“It is my obligation to let you know that if the student doesn’t show up for school for another full week that the school will revoke certain privileges for Y/N.” Pedro knew the consequences of you missing school, it could also mean jail time on his case.

“I’ll get to the bottom of this. Thank you, Linda.”

“Of course,” Linda said before hanging up.

Pedro placed his phone back on the counter, he then shut off the burners on the stove. “What do I do, gatito?” he asked as he leaned against the counter, pinching the bridge of his nose. He knew what he had to do, he just didn’t know what to say or ask even. He let out a deep sigh before making his way down the hall.

He knocked on your door, “Mija, puedo entrar?” (Can I enter?)

You opened the door, “dinner is ready already?” you asked with a confused expression on your face.

Pedro felt his heart break, there you stood, his little girl, in front of him. He never expect you to miss school and not tell him, it only meant one thing. You were lying to him about everything. “No,” he said softly. He was trying so hard to remain calm, but there was a part of him that wanted to yell and ask why the hell you werent going to schoo. Then there was that nurturing side of him that just wanted to ask you why you weren’t going to school. Both had the same question, just a different way of approaching it. “Can I come in?”

You shrugged, stepping aside to let him in. You watched as he sat on the edge of your bed, “I’m gonna ask you something and I want you to be one hundred percent truthful with me, okay?” He asked

You chuckled slightly, expecting some dumb question, “okay.”

“Mija, no estoy bromeando horita, necesito que me escuches.” (I’m not joking right now, I need you to listen).

Oh fuck, he knows, you thought. You gave him a nod, “did you miss school this past week?” You nod again. Pedro took in a deep breath, “Why?”

You shrugged, “papi, it’s no big deal.”

“No big deal!?” He yelled as he stood up. “Mija, do you know I can go to jail because you haven’t gone to school!? Do you have any idea how stupid that is? Que te estabas pensando, huh!?” (What were you thinking?)

You felt tears well up in your eyes, “I’m sorry! I just didn’t feel like going!”

“If you don’t feel like going then you tell me! How come you didn’t tell me?” You remained silent, Pedro let out a deep sigh, trying to calm down again. “What’s going on, Y/N??”

“Nothing,” you whispered.

“No me dices que nada esta pasando, por que tu no te comportas como asi. Tu eres mi hija, y yo queiro saber que esta pasando.” (Don’t tell me that nothing is happening because you don’t behave like this, You’re my daughter and I want to know what is going on.)

“Nada esta pasando!” You yelled, “Deja me en paz!” You walked out of your room. (Nothing is happening, leave me alone)

“Dejarte en paz?!” He followed you out. “What is going on with you?!”

“Would you just leave it alone? I didn’t go to school this week and I’m sorry, okay? I’ll go to school on monday, just leave it alone!”

“I’m not just gonna brush this off, this is serious, Y/N! Missing school for a week? You can’t just do that! So, what is going on?”

“Ugh! I don’t have to tell you every fucking thing okay?!” You yelled. You believe that this was probably the first time you ever yelled at your dad. The first time you had ever gotten in such a big argument. Didn’t mean that you two didn’t argue, you argued but it never led to a screaming match. Not like this.

Pedro stood there in disbelief, “Y/N M/N Pascal, I am your father and I demand to know what the hell is going on with you.”

You couldn’t tell him, you couldn’t just blurt out that you found your mother; but not only did you find her, you also found her new family. You couldn’t tell him that you felt replaceable, that even he was replaceable, at least to your mother. You just couldn’t. “Nothing is going on,” you said.

“You’re grounded,” he said in defeat.

“Fine,” you said as you began to make your way back to your room.

“For two months,” he added. “I’ll need your phone and your game consoles.”

You stopped in the middle of the hall. You were doing this for him, you wanted to keep his happiness even at the cost of your own, “Fine.” You walked into your room, slamming the door behind you.

“Slam the door and I’m taking your T.V.”

You groaned in annoyance, “Fuck you,” you spat. You had instantly regretted saying it. Pedro stood there for a second, in shock mostly. He felt the tears begin to well up in his eyes, he wasn’t going to take your T.V. as a matter of fact, he didn’t want to take any of it away. He partially said it in hopes that you’d crack and tell him what was going on.

He heard the cat meow at his feet, he looked down, “I think I’m loosing her, gatito,” he whispered before turning around and making his way down the hall and back to the kitchen.

Days went by, you didn’t speak to your dad all weekend. Spending most of your time in your bedroom, your mind was all over the place and you had self harmed some more. It felt like the more you did, the more you craved it or the more your mind raced, the more you felt the need to have that feeling.

You didn’t eat much either, for some reason you just couldn’t think about eating. Your stomach didn’t feel hungry either so you snacked on small things. When you came home from school on Monday, your dad was in the kitchen prepping for dinner. You walked past him, not saying a word. The tension was thick, someone could cut a knife through it.

Pedro didn’t say anything to you when you walked past him to grab something to drink, even though he wanted to say a million things. He had so much to talk to you about, so many exciting things, but he was stubborn and you were too.

When you didn’t come out for dinner, he left a plate at the foot of your door, knocking to let you know, just like he did for past two days and just like you did, you’d wait a few minutes before grabbing your plate. You would leave it on your desk, hoping that maybe you’d feel some sensation of hunger. Yet, just like the other full plates of food beside it, you’d never touch it.

“Just give her some time,” Javiera said into the phone. Pedro had called her Monday afternoon while he was out for a drive.

“How much time?” he asked, his voice strained from crying. He had called her up crying about twenty minutes ago, and like the big sister she was, she tried her best to console him through the phone.

“A few more days, she’ll crack soon enough,” she said hopeful. “You’re a good dad, Pedro.”

“I sure as hell don’t feel like it right now.”

“I know,” she began, “all parents feel that way one day or another.”

“I just… I wish I knew what happened you know? Why did she all of a sudden just become this totally different person?”

“Teenagers,” she expressed. “Don’t you remember how you were?”

“Don’t get me started,” he chuckled.

“You were the worst!” Pedro knew she was right. He had given his parents a hard time when he was a teenager. “It’ll get better, I promise.”

Tuesday comes and goes and so does Wednesday. By Wednesday night you ate some of your dinner, but you still couldn’t stomach to eat all of it. You only ate because of how dizzy you felt all day. Thursday comes and goes, you caved into your cravings more as each day passed, your arm was full of scars, it felt raw to the touch.

You cried yourself to sleep most nights. Friday night Pedro went to knock on your door, only to hear you crying. He knocked softly, but was only met with “Go away.” He felt so defeated, he wanted this silent treatment to be over with. He wanted his baby girl back and he wanted to help you with whatever you were going through. He knocked again, “Go away!” He shook his head, opening the door, you were laying in bed, your arms covering your face.

“Mija,” he said softly.

“Please, just go away!” you yelled.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do it anymore,” he began to say, he noticed the uneaten food on your desk. His heart sunk, looking back over at you, taking in how you looked. He walked over to the desk, some of the food began to develop mold. He let out a shaky breath, walking over to the bed, “Baby girl,” he said. Pedro noticed that you weren’t wearing your usual long sleeve, for a while he was beginning to worry that you had begun to harm yourself because you were always wearing long sleeves.

It relieved him to see you in a short sleeve for once, he inched closer, you still hard your arms covering your face. You were too focused on what was on your mind to realize that your father was near you and that you weren’t wearing a long sleeve. Even if you had realized it, it would be too late.

Pedro spotted something red near your wrists, but your arms were in a position where he couldn’t see your whole wrists. Yet, the small amount he did see was enough to send him in a panic. Pedro was soft with his touch, he grabbed your hand gently, pulling it towards him so he could see your wrists.

You quickly pulled away your arm, holding it close to your chest as you sat up in the bed, “get out,” you said through clenched teeth.

“How long have you been doing that?” Your dad asks, tears welling up in his eyes.

“Get out!” you yelled.

“How long!?” tears fell from his eyes, he stood up from the bed. “How long, Y/N?” he asked again.

“Dad, I don’t want you to cry,” You said as you looked at the ground, “Just please get out.”

“No! I’m not gonna-” he inhaled, “you’re not shutting me out.”

“Please,” you begged as you looked up at him with tears in your eyes. You got up from the bed, walking over to the door and opening it. “Get out,” you begged.

He shook his head, “Why?” he cried, “Why would you do that to yourself?” You opened your mouth to speak, but he cut you off, “And don’t say it’s the cat, because that’s too many for the cat. It’s too clean. I thought you were getting better.”

You looked at your dad, you could see the pain you were trying avoid. The heartache you hated to see, “I’m not better,” you confessed. “I’ve never gotten better.”

“What?” He asked in disbelief.

“I didn’t get better, okay?” You said loudly, holding back the sob that was scratching at the walls of your throat, begging to be let out. “Is that what you want to hear?”

“You think I want to hear that my baby girl never got better?” You remained silent. He walked over to you, taking your had to look at the marks again. He sniffled, “My beautiful baby girl,” he sobbed, “why would you do this?”

You couldn’t hold it back anymore. You let out a deep shaky breath, letting the sob take over you. “I couldn’t handle it anymore, it’s all too much, okay? It’s so loud in here,” you gestured towards your head.

Pedro couldn’t handle seeing you cry, he pulled you in, feeling you tightly wrap your arms around his body. “Why?” he kept asking.

“I was trying to protect you,” your dad let go of the embrace.

He placed his hands on your face, “Mija, I should be the one protecting you, Okay? Whatever it is that you’ve been holding in, I can handle it. You never have to worry about me.”

You wanted to spill everything, it was like the dam inside was breaking and this was just the little drop of water to break it. “I found her,” you confessed.

He looked at you with a confused expression, “who?”

“My mom,” you inhaled, “I found her,” you couldn’t help but chuckle. Pedro was in disbelief, she was alive, for the longest he just kind of accepted that she passed away.

“That’s what you were trying to protect me from?” He questioned.

You shook her head, “That’s not the best part,” you began. “You know what the best part is?” You began to walk back over to your bed. You let out a small sob, “The best part is that I also found out that we’re replaceable.” Pedro watched as you sat on your bed, it pained him to see you in such dismay. It also pained him to hear the news that your mother was alive, she was alive and had another family. “The woman we both thought was trying to protect us from herself, is out there with a family of her own-”

“Cariño,” your dad tried to interrupt.

“I have a brother and sister that I don’t even know! And she’s in these pictures laughing with them, she’s at birthday parties and soccer games,” you took in a shaky breathe.

“Y/N,” He took a couple steps towards you.

“That should be me, dad,” There was the drop of water to break the dam. “It should be us,” you sobbed. Pedro quickly pulled you into an embrace, letting you cry into his shoulder, “It should be us,” you sobbed.

“I know, Mija,” he whispered as tears fell from his eyes, “I know.” He let you cry it out for a few minutes, mostly because at that moment he didn’t know what to say exactly. How he should console you after finding out something no one should ever experience. His mind wandered, how could someone create another family when they left one behind? He thought if it were him, he wouldn’t be able to do it. He knew it would always be in the back of his mind that he had abandoned another family.

Did it wander in the back of her head? Or did she just not care?

Pedro felt so angry just thinking about it. He wanted to track her down and just yell into the void. She was the love of his life or so he thought. He had considered her the love of his life, hopeful that one day she’d realize what she left behind and come back. She wasn’t coming back, though and now he knew that. Now he had to console you and find a way to show her what she missed out on.

Pedro let go of the embrace, taking your face in his hands once again. His thumb gently wiped away the tears that were streaming down your face, he placed a soft kiss on your forehead before looking at you again. “We don’t need her,” he started to say.

“But-”

“I know, Mijita. It hurts,” you nod, “She has no idea what she’s missing out on, Mijita. Her kids have no idea what a horrible person she truly is as fucked up as that sounds, it’s true.” He gave you a smile through the tears, “The only thing that matters is that she gave me you, my beautiful baby girl. That’s all I know of her, she gave me you and she was nothing else.”

“You don’t regret being with her?”

Pedro could never regret it, “No, because then I wouldn’t have you. I can’t imagine my life without my little girl. I’m sorry you don’t have a mom in your life, but not every girl has multiple mom figures in their lives.” It was true, you had your tia and some of your dads close friends. Your dad let go of your face, he took a hold of your wrist. “But this,” he started to say, tears welled up in his eyes again, “Oh, baby girl,” he sighed.

“I’m sorry,” you cried.

“No, no, no,” he pulled you in for a quick embrace, before letting go, “we’re going to work on this together okay?” You nod, “I can help, we’ll make more appointments with your therapists, we’ll find healthy alternatives, and we’ll overcome this.” He choked back a sob, “but I never want to see you harming yourself again, please promise me that?” You remained silent.

You weren’t sure if you could promise it, mostly because you were addicted to the way it made you feel. “Prometeme, Y/N.” (Promise me)

“I-I’ll try,” you finally said. Pedro didn’t want to push it, if trying was what he could get, then it was enough for him. He could work with trying. Trying meant putting the effort and it meant to him that you still wanted to live.

“Trying is all I need,” he said. “I can’t lose you. Know that you have people that love you.”

You looked up at your dad in realization, you never realized how much it could impact your dad. How self harm was always correlated with darker actions. Darker actions that your father had a past with. This time, you pulled him into an embrace, “you won’t lose me,” you said. “I can promise you that.”

He let out a relieved sigh, “we’ll have to talk about the food on your desk too.”

“I’m sorry,” you began. “I just-”

“No, I know.” You didn’t have to say more, he knew what it was like. To be too much in your mind to even eat. He understood, “let’s get you something to eat, hmm?”

You nod, watching as he got up from the bed, “I love you, papi.”

“I love you too, Mija,” he gave you a small smile. You got up from the bed, following him into the kitchen. He ordered you your favorite take out, once the food had arrived you both took the food to the living room.

Pedro glanced over at your wrist from time to time, his heart sank every time, but he was going to get you better help. Over time, the cuts will heal and they’ll just be white little memories of the battles you’ve dealt with, but Pedro knew he never wanted you to feel like you’ve hit rock bottom. From here on out, he was going to try his hardest to make sure you were your healthiest, physically and mentally.

He placed a small kiss on your temple, “love you,” he said softly.

You gave him a smile, “Love you too, dad,” you said, focusing your attention back on the television. You both knew the journey from here on out wasn’t going to be easy, it wasn’t said aloud, but it was like a silent acknowledgment. But eventually, it’ll be okay because pain was just temporary.

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brendaareiss · 2 months ago

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how do you think cal and andres first time happened?

I actually have three possibilities for that.

1. They were very drunk or high in a forest (or some place with nobody around) , they started clumsily talking about things. Starting off on zero day but quickly changing the conversation to the girls that they were interested in, in what kind of girl they were looking for, and Andre saying a really weird thing. Saying how he wishes Cal was a girl. and things got completely out of hands. Cal climbing on Andre's lap, sloppily making out and fucking there.

2. Andre getting completely jealous of Rachel, harder than any time before. And when Cal got to his house, he basically went straight to it. Andre basically grabbing Cal's wrists and pinning them on the wall behind him, saying how much of a slut Rachel was to him and how he hated her, saying what he really thinked of her, grabbing Cal's waist and basically attacking his neck. After a lot of "what are you doing"s and "Andre"s, Cal left himself enjoy

3. Right before zero day. Being their last night alive. Both of them sprawled on Andre's bed, looking at the ceiling. Cal started talking about the things he would never get to do, things he really wanted to do. Starting with dumb little things, Cal saying he really wanted to go on an aquarium, Andre saying that he really wanted to travel around some random countries in the world, and things went on a on, getting deeper and deeper everytime. Andre saying that he really wished to spend some more time with his brother, wishing that he didn't have to leave Mel so soon. Cal saying how he wishes his siblings never found out about this, how he wishes that Rachel didn't care about it, knowing that she'll get really depressed when he was gone. Rachel. Rachel was a girl. None of them have ever touched a girl in that way before. Cal started, trying to enlighten the mood.

"I've... I've never kissed a girl before" a soft giggle escaped his mouth

"yeah, me neither"

"Hey andre...I don't want to die a virgin..."

"me neither."

And things happened.

But most of all, in all of those three possibilities, I strongly think they confessed each other's feelings while they were doing it. Telling each other how much they love each other, Andre making Cal say how long he's been wanting Andre, Andre confessing how jealous he was of Rachel or any girl that approached Cal, both saying they would do anything for each other, how they can't breathe without the other, how they need each other in all the ways possible.

#zero day #cal gabriel #zero day 2003 #calvin gabriel #caldre #zero day movie #zeroday #andre kriegman

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kaccvcate · 1 month ago

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sorry if this is a bit of a personal question, but is your lifestyle costly in any way, especially concerning the gas for your (sick) car? and is homesickness inevitable?

i feel like a stationary life in a house for years bogs me down. i don't know if i feel this way because of my current living situation causing me a lot of stress and a lot of bad memories attached to my current home, being in a shitty area, mental illness, or all of the above, but i just don't feel like i can live this way especially with my increasing wanderlust (a strong desire to travel).

it was magical to me seeing your many interactions and various views when you were traveling around the country. it was honestly really exciting! i feel like there's a lot to witness in the world and i want to see what i can in the short time i have on earth. (i think it's why i love visiting my family so much, besides enjoying their presence.)

but i don't want to throw myself head first into it, ya know? i want to know how much it's going to cost me. i would love to travel, but i don't wanna go broke over it! ;^;

i also have a strong attachment to my current home, florida. no other place has really matched its beautiful savannas, messy yet beautiful rivers, crazy plant overgrowth, and the nostalgic noise of cicadas (i even managed to find a shell this summer! it's my most prized possession, physical music aside). but, god... i really feel like fucking off sometime and going elsewhere for a little bit.

sorry if this is a lot of personal details, haha... you just feel very easy to talk to and i would like to have a roaming lifestyle. haven't been attached to people as much lately due to things, and i want to have my own adventures and experiences. maybe it's some sort of natural instinct to finally leave the family? xD who knows

To be honest, I've struggled with mental illness and depression the whole time I've been running this blog, and since I've stopped being homeless the last couple months, I've become a completely different and much happier person.

My comic seems very lighthearted and happy go lucky because I choose to focus on positive parts of my life in my work, it helps me to stay alive. When I was a kid my parents took me out of Mississippi, isolated and abused the shit out of me. My whole life I've actually dreamed of being able to live here and make music and have friends, and the whole time I was homeless I was homesick as fuck and cried multiple times daily. A lot of the drug use I portray is from times I was extremely suicidal, now I'm happy as a clam and don't ever feel the need to get fucked up like that, or hate myself or my life or anything (I don't even drink anymore.)

I've always wanted to help my family, who live in extreme poverty, but as a disabled person felt unable to. Now through my work, I'm able to be healthy and improve my life, and it's extremely satisfying.

I know this isn't the answer you guys probably want to hear. When my life was horrible and I was surrounded by abusers, moving into my car was the obvious choice, and while I was homeless, travelling was the obvious choice. You wear out your welcome one place and have to move on. For a while at first I stayed in one place and kept day jobs, which was difficult because of my condition, then when my old truck broke down I moved into the bando and just shoplifted all my food that wasn't paid for by fan donations. Through the kindness of my fans I was able to go to New York, there I lived on the street, and sometimes slept in parks or crackhouses, which isn't the most fun (although there were lots of funny times also, which I drew comics of, and crackheads can be as nice as anyone when they choose to be.) I was hoping to get treatment for my condition and get on disability, but without a place to stay through winter it was impossible. It was thanks to the generosity of fans that I was able to get a van, and I tried again to move to Mississippi, but things fell apart and I had nowhere to stay, so to avoid police attention I went out west. I had wonderful adventures in california, but still I regretted leaving my family to struggle while I bummed around having fun.

Even times I was really broke, kind people would take me in and feed me. People seemed to go out of their way to be extremely nice all the time as soon as I was out of Mississippi, and when I got out west it was fun to hang out in San Francisco with all the other free people who lived in and around Golden Gate Park (there are many.) Travelling was fun, I made so many amazing friends across the country and had great times, but still it was hard to be truly happy.

I'm very lucky to have the support network I do, my life wouldn't be possible without it. Living in a van is definitely cheaper than living in a house for obvious reasons. If you're going to move into a van, get to California as soon as possible, it's the best place to do it. But if you feel you're in a good situation and have nothing to gain from homelessness, you should just enjoy your nice life and be grateful. And next time you have some extra cash or bud, go hand out some alms to your friendly neighborhood busker. They need it more than you.

#ask box

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cuckoo-on-a-string · 11 months ago

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Persephone's Devotee (Hello, Mr. Monster AU, I)

Master List

Summary: In the age of Spiritualists and magicians, wyrds winds in different ways to link Dream of the Endless and Aisling Hunt. AU of Hello, Mr. Monster beginning in the 1920s. (Alternatively titled 'We All Hate Roderick Burgess')

Warnings: Implied child abuse/neglect, child left to travel solo, manipulating children for profit (non-sexual trafficking)

A/N: Your bird just got diagnosed with a life changing chronic condition (in addition to being put back on depression meds). We'll see how this post does. Have four chapters planned. The last scene is based on personal experiences with heat exhaustion/borderline heat stroke.

Dream’s tools brought many things to Fawney Rig. Wealth and prestige. Admiration, gifts, and influence. Nearly everything the magus wanted and only a fraction of what he thought he deserved. Roderick’s dreams of power and riches drew another tool to his hand, or perhaps Destiny drew the magus to her. The girl who saw strange things in the dark and found answers to strange riddles in her cards. But her wyrd would always draw her to old house and its shrouded dungeon, in any world or time. All because of what the Burgesses kept there.

In the eight years since the fateful evening he summoned and caught one of the Endless, Roderick had become a man much desired. He found himself with an invitation to Lord and Lady Werthrope’s party, a guest of honor at a soiree at their country estate. They promised a night of occult mysteries and foreign prizes. Bits of people and places from across the empire and beyond. Mummies from Egypt and fragments of Greek antiquities to gasp and shriek over with glasses of champagne and brandy.

Roderick carried himself as Lord Werthrope’s equal, and at least for that night, surrounded by ancient mysteries of all kinds, he was seen as such. He was an expert, a guide, someone to hold in reverence rather than an oddity to gawk over. He told them with his bearing, his dignity, and the ruby he wore on a golden chain around his neck. His wishes became dreams and so became real. He stood like a stronger god beside the broken figure of Apollo and scoffed at the mistranslations of texts he’d only ever read secondhand.

Beside the wonders kept under guard at home, what were these paltry things? He could have any of them he desired, and he’d already claimed better.

His sense of superiority carried him through the party’s early hours, moving from acrobats in elaborate costumes, to fire eaters, to ghost stories and flights of fancy spun by swindlers far below his consideration. He had an answer or alternative for everything. And then he met the girl.

She sat at a bare table with no long cloth to hide rolling ankles, clever fishing lines, or knocking accomplices. Only a candle and a deck of cards separated her from the guests, and she’d drawn quite a queue. Her feet didn’t even reach the floor, swinging idly between the legs of the chair as she read the cards of a distraught-looking dandy.

Taking his arm, Lady Werthrope said, “This one you really must see, Magus. She’s made quite the splash in New York and London.”

The Magus offered a tolerant smile. “And what is the trick? Does she blow out the candle? Bend spoons?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that.” The lady practically vibrated, eager to impress as she led them to the table, scattering the line. “She sees things, and she reads fortunes like no one I’ve ever seen, and I’ve had more than a few pet psychics in my time. This one’s a bit of a sad story.”

The magus clenched his jaw until the muscle in his cheek twitched. He could make whatever sob story the girl shilled much worse. Of all the frauds and liars who feigned knowledge of the occult, Roderick Burgess hated mediums and ghost whisperers the most. The tantalizing promise of connection with Randal – always waved in his face, always ultimately denied – it clawed open the rotting wound in his heart, and he let the poison drip back on any fools who tried his patience.

Let this one try to pull the wool over his eyes, and he’d unmask her in front of this glittering audience. She’d be a penniless sad story when he was through.

“Those people,” the lady said, nodding to a couple flanking the child, “are just the adoptive parents. Saw her family murdered, poor thing. They say that’s what cracked her open to the other world.”

“Do they indeed.” He kept his smile, showing his teeth as his grip flexed over the cane in his free hand. “Then I look forward to her performance.”

The Magus and the lady sat across from the faux family, and the girl looked at them. The people who weren’t her parents did not manage her well, Burgess couldn’t help noting. They’d painted her up with rogue and kohl that made her look even more like a child playing grownup games, and the feather in her headband hung limp and lifeless. She barely managed to grimace through a smile, and she spoke with all the enthusiasm of a student reporting on Ovid to the class.

“What are you asking?” A child’s voice really shouldn’t be so dull. Now that he was nearer, the Magus couldn’t help wondering if she was even younger than he’d first assumed. Not even ten, he thought, and already so exhausted.

It wasn’t what he’d expected. He kept his guard, but curiosity stirred beneath. She was no great performer.

Lady Werthrope leaned forward, eager to take the first reading as the girl shuffled her cards. They were nearly too big for her to manage, but in this at least she clearly had much practice. Her handling of the tarot was the most natural element of her demeanor he’d yet to see.

The lady talked about her dog Moxy, a cocker spaniel much loved and terribly spoiled. It was getting on in years, and, well, ought she prepare for anything dreadful? Only, her friend had just lost her terrier, and she couldn’t chase it from her thoughts…

The cards appeared on the table. One by one. The Six of Cups. The Two of Swords. And, lastly, the Nine of Swords reversed.

“Moxy is well-loved.” The child pointed to the first card. “That’s the foundation. But she’s getting older, and she may go blind eventually. She’s accepted it, though, and you will, too.” She smiled a little, hesitantly, like a pet used to getting kicked when she barked at company. The Magus noted how her gaze flicked to her pseudo-father.

Lady Werthrope clucked and reached over to squeeze the child’s hand. “You’re very honest. And very sweet. Now, won’t you show the Magus what you can do?”

Obediently, she gathered the cards and folded the deck, shuffling them with the fresh energy of her next customer. “What do you want to know?”

Roderick considered. It was a little below him to ask anything specific of a child spiritualist, and he still meant to test her. Hate stirred the old thorn in his heart, and although she didn’t speak with ghosts to earn her bread, he didn’t need to justify himself.

“I’ll leave the question to you.” He squinted in a way that may seem affectionate, but it was only sharp, a predator focusing on little fawn to see how quickly it might run. “What do you see?”

She flinched, lifting her eyes from the cards to meet his in a fleeting, startled glance. Like he’d come near to guessing something she didn’t say out loud. But then she bent over the deck, back to her work as the woman behind her set a hand on her shoulder.

“Be good, Aisling,” the adoptive mother said. “Show the Magus your skills. Don’t embarrass us.”

The child rolled her lip between her teeth, sorting the task quickly. One card. Two cards. Three cards. Tap, tap, tap on the bare table. The Magician’s face glowed in the candle light, and Roderick blinked. A good tarot reader must have good luck in order to draw the appropriate cards – or a marked deck. But he’d watched those little hands like a hawk, and he’d seen nothing. It wasn’t definitive proof by any means, but Roderick Burgess knew himself to be cleverer than a child.

Pointing to the first card, the Magician, the girl said, “You’re the Magus. The Magician is your creation of yourself.” The second card was the Nine of Cups. “Your cups all overflow, and you enjoy the plenty you already have.” And then there was the Ace of Pentacles. Roderick wondered for a moment if she’d laid the cards out of the intended order, but she simply said, “There is new wealth coming. You’ve just found something that will bring you more good fortune. The benefits will grow in the months and years to come.”

“You’re very sure of yourself.” He looked for cracks, and there were many. Fatigue clouded her eyes and weighted the end of every sentence. Not a sign of a lie, though. She couldn’t even pretend to be happy for the audience.

He turned the interaction over in his mind through the rest of the night, wearing away the questions and presumptions like the rough edges of a stone, and by the later hours, he thought he might hold a jewel.

The adoptive parents made themselves easy to find. They hadn’t left the table. Neither had the girl. The lord and lady hired them to entertain, and they stayed at their posts. They’d gathered refreshments, but no cup or plate sat on the table, and he wondered if they had any idea children needed things like water after a long night of speaking with strangers.

Really. The scheme was too transparent. The only lies hid in any manner of affection the parents pretended for the child they claimed.

The Magus marched up to the table, rapping the top with his cane to seize the drowsy girl’s attention. She blinked, started licking her dry lips, caught herself, and pinched her mouth closed with her teeth.

“Aisling, wasn’t it?” He nodded to her, encouraging her to echo the motion. “I would like a word with you. No cards. No reading. Just a conversation. Alone.”

The father stepped forward, ready to defend his meal ticket. “Sir, I’m afraid we can’t just –”

“The girl and I will sit here, at this table,” he tapped it again to make his point, “and you will both stand over there.” The cane swung to point towards the bar, which was well within sight but well out of earshot.

When the man moved to protest again, Roderick pulled out his wallet, and the father’s mouth snapped shut. A few pounds bought the adults’ willing compliance, and they went off in search of drinks with barely a backwards glance. Roderick settled into the seat he claimed earlier, watching the girl squirm. Her hands fluttered restlessly between her lap and the table, clearly used to the cards, uneasy without the form and ritual of a reading to guide the conversation.

That was well enough. Roderick had his own plans.

He signaled one of the roving staff, and as the waiter approached, he ordered, “A lemonade for the young lady.”

With a bow, the server hurried off, and the Magus smiled, lips closed, tilting his head as his legs crossed under the table. He was not a client. He was an adult who noticed, who might be moved to care, and in the few hours of their acquaintance, he was already offering more than anyone else.

“So, you see things?”

Her eyes snapped from him to the people who managed her. Then back again, and down to her lap.

“I’m not supposed to upset people.” She picked at the fringe on the garish frock she wore – entirely unsuited to her age and clearly uncomfortable. “It upsets Mr. and Mrs. Foster when I see things. Or when I talk about them.”

The Magus nodded, unsurprised. He wondered if the people who adopted her even realized her talents were genuine when they snatched her up. They had too many connections and too much showmanship to be anything other than experienced con artists. This little Aisling must be very sensitive, and the truly sensitive didn’t see strictly good, kind, or encouraging things. How she must terrify the fools.

The server returned with a cut crystal glass rattling with ice. The girl thanked the server, then thanked her benefactor, and wrapped her hands around the condensation-slicked sides. She sipped carefully, and Roderick could see the tension ease from her posture as she drank. Desperate as she was, she didn’t gulp, and with clear regret, she set the drink on the table still two-thirds full. But she kept her hands on the glass, lest some waiter assume she was finished and spirit it away.

“I won’t be upset, and I’d like to believe you.” Angling his head down to peer at her meaningfully, employing a look he’d once used when his son misbehaved, he asked, “What have you seen tonight that would upset people?”

The girl looked around, shifting so her chair creaked. This time, it wasn’t her adoptive parents she feared. Any ears may be a threat. When she leaned in, the Magus copied her, silently assuring her the secret would be safe with him.

“There’s a guest who’s not a guest, and he isn’t a man, either.”

The Magus hummed. “Say I believe you. Could you prove it?”

Seduced into the invitation of an adult confidant, and revived by the lemonade, she rushed to answer. She wanted to prove herself. She wanted to be believed and heard. The Magus was listening, and he was beginning to believe as well.

“The man paid the footman with holly leaves,” she hissed in a loud whisper. “The footman folded them like bank notes, and the spines stabbed his palms, but he didn’t notice. Look for the one with blood on his gloves.”

“And the man who isn’t a man?”

Shrinking back, the girl shook her head until the headband went crooked. Her hand pressed over her heart, rubbing hard circles as her face creased.

“He’d know I saw him,” she said. “I don’t let them know I see them anymore.”

Now there was a tale and no mistake. A child with enough power to annoy things beyond the veil – one that survived an encounter – was rare indeed.

“What happened?” He lent his tone a shade of concern. Facts, he found, traveled swiftest to a sympathetic ear, and he needed to know everything. Curiosity was growing into practical fervor as the first dreams of a plan grew into place. “Are you ill?”

She crumbled just a little bit more, folding into herself to protect the place she rubbed from some invisible threat. “Sometimes I see things that don’t want to be seen. One of them – hurt me. There’s no scar, but it hurt me, and now it aches.”

The Magus donned a solemn expression, though he felt a thrill at the prospect sitting before him. The little girl had unusual skills, and though she wasn’t handled well by the adults governing her, they must still turn a pretty penny showing her in salons and private homes. He’d confirm what she’d said, of course, validate her little proof, but she was either a better liar than he’d ever met or she was childishly honest. He knew where he’d put his money.

Where he might very well invest it, actually.

He didn’t say goodbye, only nodding as he rose and went in search of the servant with bloody gloves.

Of course, he found him. When he demanded to see what the footman had in his pockets, the boy paled, stammering excuses, only to pull out a handful of forest detritus. As the young man fell into a whirl of confusion and disappointment, the Magus truly smiled. The first real smile since Lady Werthrope brought him to the child’s table.

He must have a proper conversation with the girl’s current guardians.

Aisling clung to her bag, drowning in the heat as the train pulled away from the Wych Cross platform. Men and women fanned themselves with hats and newspapers, desperate for a breeze in the dead summer stillness. Ladies shed their gloves. Men loosened their ties. Propriety mattered less when the air was trying to suffocate them, a crushing, inescapable oven scalding the usually damp countryside.

A miserable day to travel.

Sweat dripped down her back, soaking the neck of her dress, gluing her hair to her skin. But she didn’t have a free hand to stir a breeze. Her bag was too heavy, full of everything she would need in her new home, or at least everything the Fosters thought they couldn’t sell for a profit. Mrs. Foster took her to the train station and dropped her at the door.

“Here’s your ticket. You’re heading to Wych Cross, and then to Fawney Rig. Don’t forget, and don’t miss your train,” she’d said. Then she climbed back into the cab beside Mr. Foster and disappeared into the flow of London traffic.

They’d sold her on to someone else, and now they were free of her.

She peered around the station, but it was really just a platform. In London, there were helpful adults in uniforms and suits who pointed out the right train and the right stairs to reach it. Nothing here told her how to find Fawney Rig, though, and the only adult in a uniform seemed to be the man in the ticket booth.

She’d find her way. She wasn’t a baby after all. She was eight. And she could read very well, and no one was coming to help her, so she better figure it out.

She stood in line for the ticket man’s attention. Surely, he could give her directions. The Magus was rich, and a little famous, she thought, so his neighbors must know where he lived. If the man in the booth didn’t know, she’d keep asking until she found someone who did. While she waited her turn, she set down her suitcase and sat on it, taking deep breaths that tasted like salt. It could be worse. What if it rained instead? Well. Actually. Rain sounded very nice.

Soon enough, she took her place in front of the booth, and the man frowned under his mustache like she’d arrived with a bill or a letter from someone nasty. She smiled prettily, the way the Fosters told her to, and tried to make herself look like less of a problem as she clutched her case again.

“Excuse me,” she said, “but do you know the way to Fawney Rig?”

He physically recoiled, and his frown hooked deeper with glowering doubt as he scanned her. “Fawney Rig? That devil worshiper’s house? Why do you want to know?”

“I’ve been sent to live there, sir. I’m expected, but I don’t think they’ve sent anyone for me.” Manners made things easier with adults. Good manners and clear words – the fewer the better.

But the man wasn’t swayed. He looked thunderous. Like she’d broken something valuable and ought to pay for it with a lashing.

“Do you have money for a cab?”

The Fosters didn’t own her anymore, and they’d given her nothing but cards, and costumes, and a hairbrush. All the cash stayed warm and safe in their pockets.

“No, sir.”

“Then walk down the main road. Go east from the village, and keep going until there are no more houses you can see from the street. There’ll be a path on the left with a big iron gate. Follow that and you’ll find your devil worshipers.” He waved her off like he’d slap her if not for the glass. “Next!”

Manners got her what she needed, at least. “Thank you.”

The other adults all moved aside as she trundled through with her case. It made it easier to avoid clipping ankles and shins with her luggage, but she wondered if they hated her the way the ticket man hated her – because of Fawney Rig – or if she simply smelled after the long, stuffy ride in third class. Not that adults needed an excuse to dislike her. The nice ones called her uncanny and gifted. The mean ones called her a witch, and a bastard devil-spawn, and other names a mother should wash out of their mouths with soap.

She wasn’t sure which ones were telling the truth.

She knew the way forward, though. To Fawney Rig. That was good, even if the other adults didn’t think so. The Magus may not be a nice person, she hadn’t known him long enough for the usual adult lies to wear thin enough to see through, but he was smarter than the Fosters, and he’d given her a lemonade, so maybe she wouldn’t be as hungry or thirsty under his guardianship. She’d still have to work. Adults only wanted her if they thought she could give them something. But everything was more bearable with a good dinner and cold drinks.

She hoped he’d give her another cold drink, even water with some ice, when she reached his home. The train ride left her terribly thirsty.

Leaving the shaded platform, she bowed away from the sun’s violent touch and started on her journey. The village only kept a cobbled road in the center of town. It led up to the train station, linking it to a clutch of shops and offices. A parish church sat a little way back from the road, separated from the secular world by a field of tidy tombstones in heat-bleached grass. People noticed her. They looked. They whispered to each other. But no one waved or offered a hand. Gossip didn’t move fast enough to beat her here from the train, and she wondered how people could tell she was odd. Society had so many rules beyond manners, but no one would tell her what they were, and she never guessed right.

By the time the cobblestones ended, she was struggling to hold onto her suitcase. The handle kept trying to slip from her fingers, even when she held it with both hands, and she had to work harder and harder to keep it out of the dirt. If she knew anything about the world, it was that good children didn’t drag their luggage, and bad things happened to those that did. She’d travelled enough to learn, and she wanted to make a good impression on her new keeper and his household.

The road outside of town went a very, very long way. The ticket seller’s instructions made each step sound the same length: go through town, pass the houses, go down the long drive past the gates. Her imagination had lied to her, though. Every time she thought she’d passed the last house, there came another. Each handed her down the chain of cottage gardens and small homes full of families who pretended not to see. They all knew she’d done something, like she had a brand on her forehead, and she wasn’t allowed to stop. She didn’t try to.

Everything looked sickly yellow in the midday glare. Dust hung in the air, stirred by passing cars, lingering without a breath of wind to dispel the choking clouds. Everything looked flat and dead, so much so she almost missed the gate. Another leg of her trek done. Still too far to go, and the private road leading to the Magus’ home was longer than it had any right to be.

She didn’t feel well. The trees gave her a little protection, but her stomach and lungs felt hard, strained, the way her arms ached with carrying her suitcase. Only they were parts that shouldn’t feel that way, and she thought maybe she should sit down.

But she was almost there.

Even if she walked slowly, and her feet didn’t land quite where she told them to.

She just wouldn’t think about those things. Complaining was just making excuses, and she was expected.

The house appeared out of nowhere, or she was too dizzy to see it through the leaves before the last turn in the drive. It loomed, a very final-looking destination, and her suitcase escaped her grasp. The case was slippery, and her fingers didn’t curl the way they should. She bent to pick it up, and when she straightened, the whole world spun.

She stood very still until it stopped, and she found herself shivering as she approached the front door. Very strange. Was she afraid? No. That didn’t sound right. She felt terrible, too terrible to worry, and none of it made sense.

But she’d nearly made it. She had made it. Almost.

Knocking summoned a young man, and the door creaked open as he glanced down with a quizzical expression. “Hello? Can I help you?”

She tried holding her suitcase with just one hand, but it slipped away again, barely missing her foot. Maybe a handshake was a bad idea. The stranger hadn’t held his hand out for a shake, after all. She was just confused. He might not want to touch her. And she must look a picture after her walk.

She should’ve done something differently. If she were smarter, or taller, or…

“I’m Aisling Hunt, sir. The Magus sent for me.”

“Oh.” The young man’s eyes popped wider, and she wondered if he was younger than she thought at first. Stepping back, he pulled open the door to usher her inside. “I’m sorry. I’d heard someone was coming, but I’d thought you’d be… well, older. And I’m just Alex.”

“Nice to meet you, Alex. I’m Aisling.”

He nodded and plucked her bag from where she’d dropped it. “Yes. You said. Are you feeling alright?”

She didn’t know. And grownups didn’t really like it when she was unwell anyway. Before she could come up with a suitable lie that would get her what she needed without stepping on any toes, a familiar face appeared at the end of the hall.

“Ah! You made it.” Out of formal dress, the Magus still brimmed with authority. Aisling had met many adults who wore costumes and pretended to be something they weren’t, but the Magus seemed like he’d somehow stitched his chosen persona into his skin. “Welcome to Fawney Rig.”

She wobbled. “Thank you, sir.”

“Magus,” he corrected.

“Thank you, Magus, sir.”

At last, what he was seeing overshadowed his enthusiasm, and the old man frowned. “Did you walk here? From the station?”

“Yes, Magus.”

“The Fosters didn’t even give you money for a fucking cab?”

“Just the train ticket, sir. Magus.”

She blinked, and the whole room turned blue, like peering at the world through stained glass. It looked so pretty she didn’t realize the Magus was asking her another question until his hand settled on her shoulder.

His voice came from far away. “Can you hear me?”

Yes, she wanted to say. Yes, Magus, I walked, and I found Fawney Rig all on my own, and I’m not useless, please don’t throw me away yet.

But everything looked cool, and blue, and lovely. She was floating in it. Floating and so awfully heavy at the same time. The color slipped in with her breath, eroding her control until it slipped from her grasp like the suitcase had.

The world went dark, and she didn’t see, hear, or say anything more.

And deep below, in the belly of the house, Dream of the Endless waited in his cage, as senseless to the world above as she.

#morpheus x reader #fic: persephone's devotee #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus x oc #dream of the endless x oc #fic: hello mr. monster

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iridescentpull · 9 months ago

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Gatos e Rosas will be on hold for a week or so since I have a VERY busy week ahead of me and won't have time to write the new chapters.

As an apology, I did a thing on twitter that for every like the tweet received, I would post one fact about a character of the GeR universe (mainly fitpac ofc).

So here's part one of those facts, hope you enjoy :) lmk if you want more!

Ramón was adopted by Fit and Spreen when he was barely 3 years old

Pac lost his leg in an accident (will be explained in the story) when he was 19

Fit went to the army straight when he was fresh outta highschool, thinking he knew everything (he didn't)

Pac's amputation is an above knee one, also known as a transfemoral one

Phil and Missa are in a queerplatonic marriage

Tina works in the fashion industry and has dreams of owning her own boutique and line in the future

Quesadilla City is a small city in a fictional island located in the Northern Hemisphere

Ramón is autistic, and he goes nonverbal whenever he's extremely stressed or overstimulated. He and Fit communicate through sign language when that happens

Pac has diagnosed depression and anxiety and takes meds for it

Cellbit and Roier met when they were called to the school because Richas and Bobby had a fight

Fit figured out he was gay when he was in his teens, but didn't accept it until he was in his late twenties/early thirties

Roier does drag, aka Melissa

Quackity HATES Chayanne, and the feeling is mutual with Chayanne. Their hate-relationship started since Chayanne was a toddler

Missa works in a really famous orchestra, which means he often has to travel around for concerts, leaving his family behind for long periods of time

The first few weeks after Pac was alone in his new apartment for the first time, he fell into a rough depressive episode. He slowly got better after adopting Xereta

Ramón's special interest is the Krebs Cycle. Fit has no idea when, what, or how his son even learned what the krebs cycle is, but he's happy to listen Ramóns infodumps

After Pac and Mike immigrated from Brazil, Mike searched high and low for somewhere they could stay that would be cheap until they could get back on their feet. He met Bagi, who was searching for more roommates at the time. They moved in, and the Favela Five apartment was born

Death Family live in the more country side of the city, around the same area as Mike and Mine

Fit lost his arm up until the shoulder, also known as shoulder disarticulation

Pac and Mike met in the orphanage at Brazil when they were both seven and five, respectively

Fit and Phil met just when Fit was discharged and lived together as roommates until Phil met Missa

Quesadilla City is a VERY diverse city, with immigrants from all over the world having their little communities spread around. The Favela is one of the most popular communities, though!

Cellbit works at Ordo Theorita’s Publishing House, and he dreams of publishing his own thriller book in the future

Pac is transmasc, and had his top surgery in his midtwenties after the Favela Five managed to scrap enough money to pay for it

Ramón's biggest fear is his dad being lonely. His second biggest fear are heights

#GeR AU #qsmp au #fitpac #pactw #fitmc #qsmp ramon #aynee writes

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dayangaytransman · 8 months ago

Text

Warnings: mention of Transphobia, Homophobia, Self harm, Suicide, Gender Dysphoria and depression

I translated this with the help of AI so I don't know how much of it is correct. Sorry for bad english

I just want to share this; otherwise, I might do something that makes everyone upset

I am a Trans man/Transmasc/Genderfluid person. I use any pronouns except She/Her.

In my country, they won't let me transition, but they also don't want me near them pre- transition

I tell doctors and people who say they can help me that I need testosterone.

But they tell me if they give that to me, I will have a beard and I will regret it! I want a beard! WTF!

A doctor said to me that he cannot give me testosterone, but I can buy it and inject it myself! They don’t sell medicines like that without a doctor’s permission.

I look like a woman, or a 12-year-old cis boy.

I am 19 years old

And when people meet me, a grown man, they see a child and act accordingly. They call me little and short, and I can’t tell people in public how old I am, but they always ask.

I hate myself because I don’t look like the grown man I am. I am 153 cm and 42 kg. I am short, skinny, and have a baby face.

I sometimes present as feminine, and when I do, people in public say unkind things to me. They even try to harm me.

I live in a place where the government executes gay men and I am afraid when they see me as a gay boy.

I live in a Muslim country, so they expect me to wear a hijab, even though I am not Muslim.

I can’t transition here, even if they allow it. The doctors don’t know what they’re doing. I don’t want to be a laboratory mouse. Once, the most famous doctor was accused of killing a person just from a mastectomy! I want a healthy, beautiful, normal body.

I can’t travel for transition because I am very poor, and in my country, even $10,000 is a lot. Even with 100 years of working, I couldn’t accumulate that much money.

But they won’t even let me work or study! Many LGBTQIA+ people here have been expelled from school.

In my country, a trans person is a psychopath. Many of us don’t have an ID ( of our true gender) , and we can’t live like this.

I can’t attend classes, such as an art class, or visit any doctor. They require an ID, and even when they don’t, I don’t want to out myself or have them touch and examine my body.

I experience all forms of dysphoria that exist. I am dealing with depression, childhood trauma, ADHD, social anxiety, among other issues.

I tried to kill myself twice. I have left school. I don’t want to leave the house, but I am trying to change these things, and I can’t seem to do so.

And you know what? Nobody cares!

Do you think all transgender individuals speak English and reside in countries that are friendly to the queer community?

I cannot create a GoFundMe here; there is no supportive organization or similar entity available. Everyone here hates me and can easily kill me.

I am gay, and my relationships have always been toxic.

Men do not perceive me as a man.

My father left me; my mother just doesn’t care about me, and my brother is my biggest enemy.

I cry every day, and I don’t know if I want to be alive anymore. When I tell all my friends and family, even those who can see my tears, they don’t care.

I don't know what to do.

I see people on the internet who just need to turn 18 to transition, try a little bit harder, or travel to another city.

I do not have these privileges. I have wanted testosterone for four years and have tried to obtain it in the way the government indicated, but they have not provided it to me.

I hate my chest, My high, My face, My... My everything

I feel inadequate because I am unable to study, work, or even travel to see my boyfriend and best friend.

I remain alive because if I were to die, there would be no one to feed my cat. He/it is all I have in this world.

People often ask whether I am a girl or a boy. They always tell me that I am short and small, and insist that I can’t be older than they are.

I AM A GROWN ASS MAN!

Imagine calling Tom Ellis or Henry Cavill cute, little, and girlish.

And when my gender changes because I am genderfluid, it gets worse. And I don't feel like a woman.

Nobody here understands what ‘non-binary’ means.

They don’t understand the meaning of ‘trans’ either.

They refer to us by a term that I cannot repeat because it is an offensive word. A bad word that means: a person who is a prostitute has two genitals and is mentally insane. And they want transgender individuals to fully transition. Otherwise, they won’t give them an ID. And who do you think are the ones who say who is trans and who is not? The government! Actually, it’s the psychologists, but mostly the government. You need to prove yourself to them, and I tried hard, but I failed.

Even my family doesn’t see me as an adult—a man who is 19 years old.

Most of the day, I talk to AI because it is kind and knows what it is doing.

Here people think we are sex workers. That Trans people are always horny!

I have dysphoria, so I am not horny, even when I want to be. I can't even masturbate. I can't even look at it.

Here if they find out, they can send me to jail because I am an AFAB person without Hijab. All the people here are transphobic and I can't do shit about it.

And... Nobody in the world cares... I have no doubt that you do not even know the geographical location of my country.

Queer people in my country are the most miserable people on the planet. And they are against each other more than anywhere else. Gay men don't want me around them here ,same as Trans men. And they all hate non-binary people, Polyamorus people and people like me who have more than 10 labels.

I want to grow one day and become an artist, a writer, and an LGBTQIA+ activist. But also I want to kill myself. I want to become manly, sexy, hairy, and big But on the other hand, I want to hurt myself. I want to study philosophy, literature, and languages, but I also hate them because they don’t include someone like me.

I want to write LGBTQIA+ stories in my native language to contribute to my community. But this is illegal here.

I want to do anything and everything, but I know all of this is a dream, and just a dream

All I can do is cry and wonder if I should kill myself

I am sorry if this makes you upset, but I need to say these things to the world.

I wish I were AMAB, or if not, a wealthy person so I could transition. And if not that, then Canadian, European, or even American, so the transition would not be just a dream. Or if I am none of these, at least to not have all the dysphoria in the world, from top to bottom, from voice to face, to height to hips to…

Why? Just... Why?

#gender dysphoria #transgender #trans man #genderfluid #lgbtqia+#sorry for being depressing #nonbinary #transmasc #ai translation #this is my first post #this is my life #i am scared #i don't know how to tag this

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