#and generally somewhat overwhelming day at work

[hwanswerland]

.

[reidrum]

porcelain doll | s.r

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

a/n: writers block is a bitch fr but somehow this came out! i just wanna say that if you relate to reader or just have qualms in general about intercourse that its okay and its normal and you're still a wonderful human being at the end of the day ok that is all i love you mwah

cw: smut 18+ minors dni, fingering, making out, no p in v sex but talks about it, reader has an ambiguous reason for it hurting cuz there are like so many gdm reasons it can hurt it's ridiculous, hurt/comfort, fluff, afab reader, spencer is a loving and supportive boyfriend, i proofread this once sorry

summary: you'd been keeping quiet about something personal that you knew you should tell spencer but just couldn't find the right time for, but now it's all come to a head in a hot heat of the moment and you're forced to confront it

wc: 2.6k

_______________________________________________

you meant to tell spencer about it when you first started dating.

it’s not something that comes up to discuss in a natural context, like over coffee or at work. by the time you and spencer had actually started dating, you hoped there would be a quiet moment where you could tell him, but even when soft moments came and went your anxiety was the ruling emotion and prevented you from telling him.

that brings you to this moment right now— you straddled over spencer’s lap on his couch with your arms around his neck, his on your waist, wildly kissing him. you had just come home from the bar with the girls, and spencer couldn’t help himself with how pretty you looked as he pulled you to the couch and perched you on his lap.

still being in the somewhat early stages of your relationship, your intimacy with him never went past making out, with you most of the time tapping out after getting too overwhelmed. and spencer always respected your boundaries.

don’t get it wrong, you both still had a lot of fun when things got heated. if you could kiss him every second of the day you would. but being able to feel how much fun he was having always left a pang of guilt in your heart after always stopping. he’d always be heavily panting, trying so hard to hide the discomfort in his pants, and the most you could do in return was dissociate and live in false ignorance about it. it didn’t help that he still so devastatingly kind to you after.

but here you were on his couch tonight, and something felt different. a desire you hadn’t felt before taking over your senses as your bodies intertwined. it’s like every time you’re with him, he makes you almost forget all the insecurities that eat away at you.

almost.

spencer moves his mouth down your neck, leaving a trail of hot love bites before he finds your sweet spot. you angle your head more so he can get better access, and moan out at how fucking good it feels.

he moves his hand to the waist of your shorts, looks up at you silently asking for permission to remove them. you nod and he maneuvers them off, returning to straddle him. his hands move to knead the flesh where your hips meet your thighs, every movement delicate and intentional. it’s like with every touch he transfers his love for you through his fingertips to drive you absolutely crazy.

you subconsciously grind down on him, putting a pressure he wasn’t expecting as he groans lowly in your ear, “fu-uck.” it warms your heart a little, knowing the effect you have on him. your hands tangle in hair and pull firmly letting spencer moan into your mouth as he moves a hand further down your body.

“this okay still?” he breathlessly asks as he toys with the lining of your panties.

you nod again, not trusting your words at the moment. a sinking feeling starts to brew in your gut, as you can easily predict where the next events are going. he’s being so kind to you, and you feel sexy with the way he’s eating you alive with his eyes and touches. the guilt would chip you away if you had led him on this long only to stop right before the good part, just because you couldn’t handle it or something.

but he starts to stroke you outside your panties, and you have to admit that it feels vaguely good. you continue to bury your head in the crook of his neck in the hopes of masquerading any facial expressions contradictory to your words. you just want spencer to feel good, and this is the first step to reaching that goal.

spencer takes the soft breaths blowing in his ear as a sign to keep going, and hooks a finger on the cloth to pull it aside. he runs a single digit up and down your slit, swiping by your entrance to gather the wetness to spread around. when he circles back to give your clit attention you shakily moan out his name and his arm grips you tighter around your waist. you feel his finger descend again and prods around for the entrance again before gently sliding in.

the last five minutes you had been praying repeatedly and silently in your head, please let it be different this time, please don’t let me ruin this perfectly great relationship, please let my body just do what it’s meant to do.

but your prayers are left unheard, and all you can feel is hot, burning pain.

it tears through you, a feeling incomparable to walking on fire rocks even. it’s overwhelming, all consuming, things you would typically describe a normal sexual experience but here your body was, in a cruel twist of fate by being on the complete opposite end of that spectrum.

most of all, it just fucking hurts. point blank, you don’t see it subsiding anytime soon. you hoped the sentiment of making this good for spencer would overtake the signals being sent to your pain receptors. but it doesn’t, it actually intensifies the emotional pain in your heart that you know will weigh on you once this is over.

spencer being the darling lover he is holding you so gently, and yet instead your body betrays his gentle loving touches and receives them with malice. 

how dare you?

after a couple minutes, you can’t take it anymore. the panic starts to rise in your chest— from the pain, the guilt, all crashing down like an avalanche preparing to leave you stranded in the rubble.

“spencer…” you grit out.

“yeah baby?” he hums.

“can we-, i think i need to…” you strain. the pain is spreading throughout your body like a forest fire, uncontainable and devastating.

spencer slows his ministrations and pulls back a little, noticing the faint red rings forming in your eyes from the unshed tears, “hey, what’s wrong?” he pulls out his finger complete, subtly wiping it on his pants (which you’ll gawk at later because, who is this man?). even after the removal it’s left you scorned, and you feel it breaking your resolve fast.

“are you okay?” spencer tries to peer into your eyes again, voice laced with worry and dread.

you open your mouth to answer, but nothing comes out. you’re in shock, you think. and you’re feeling a lot of emotions, too many emotions all huddled up in your head begging for control.

spencer sits still below you deeply concerned and confused, “sweetheart, what’s going on?” he desperately tries one more time.

you think your brain has finally settled on what to feel.

mortification.

you squeeze your eyes shut, harshly rubbing them with sweaty hands, “i’m okay, i’ll be right back.” and you don’t give him time to rebuttal as you swing off him and bolt to the bathroom in record speed. after you shut the door and lock it, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. and then everything else falls out too.

your arms clutch your stomach in distress as the panic settles in you, sliding down the wall as you sit on the floor with your knees tucked under your chin. tears blur your vision, and the deep breaths are counterintuitive as they seem to make you more and more lightheaded.

a faint knocking seems to cast a line to bring you back down, and another firmer knock solidifying it.

spencer softly says your name, “can we talk? i just want to know that you’re okay.”

a pang of guilty shoots up your heart and you let out a big sniffle inadvertently, and spencer finds an unknowingly matching pang shooting up his own heart.

“i’m sorry if i hurt you, sweetheart.”

that was the final blow, and you fully begin to sob on the bathroom floor. how selfish of a person were you to let him feel guilty for something that was entirely your fault?

“you didn’t do anything,” you say between cries, “i’m just, being weird.”

spencer isn’t convinced, “will you let me in?” he says softly.

you contemplate the outcomes. he comes in, you tell him about your irregularity, he gets upset with you for not telling him and because you don’t work. or you don’t let him in, he gets upset with you and your stubbornness, deciding it’s no longer worth it to deal with you and he leaves.

solid choices, you think.

swiping at the tears falling still, you think you can’t feel any lower than you do right now. so you reach up and unlock the door but don’t move to open it.

he hears the click of the lock turning and knows he has to open the door. the handle turns and spencer pokes his head through, “i’m coming in, okay?”

you don’t respond, your head still finding solace in your bunched up knees. you faintly hear the door creak open and a figure move in.

if spencer’s heart wasn’t clenching before, someone’s now got it in a death grip with how distraught you look is making him feel. he doesn’t enter your bubble, he doesn’t feel it’s appropriate at the moment. instead he sits in the open doorway, hoping it offers you a comfortable space to know that he’s there but not enough to overwhelm you.

you both sit in silence for what feels like forever, spencer knows it’s ten minutes and thirty two seconds, when you let out the smallest and faintest, “i’m sorry.”

“you didn’t do anything,” he immediately says, itching to move closer to you, “i just want to know what happened, angel.”

your eyes scrunch up in frustration, “ugh, it’s not-“ you falter, this was not how you pictured this conversation going.

he waits for you to continue. “i have this…thing.” you start.

“thing..?”

why does it feel so embarrassing to say out loud, he has three phds and hunts serial killers this cannot be the worst thing he’s heard.

it’s definitely the most vulnerable though.

you turn your body 180 degrees so you’re not facing him, thinking it would be easier to confess to him if he’s not staring you down, “when i like, put things down there… it hurts.”

“what kind of hurt?”

“it’s like a…really intense pain. that doesn’t go away.”

spencer ponders for a couple seconds, “is that what happened a couple minutes ago?”

you nod your head into your knees, letting the fresh hot tears wet your kneecaps. it’s humiliating.

he inches closer, “angel, did you think i was going to be mad?”

you sniffle, “are you not?”

a tentative hand rests on your back, “not at all,” he whispers, “i was just really worried about you.”

worried. people have been angry, apathetic, even sad (for themselves) when you told them. but never worried.

you suppose spencer reid has always been different, defying any preconceptions anyone previous had imposed on you. he always offered you kindness and love when you couldn’t find any for yourself. it was unfair, how much he loved you, and how you couldn’t show him how much you loved him back.

you clear your throat, “it just makes me feel…broken? to not be able to do the one thing my body is made to do. in the past it’s been a dealbreaker for a lot of people, and understandably so.”

spencer has moved to sit in front of you, inches away. he reaches a hand up to push a tendril of hair behind your ear, letting his palm rest upon your jaw. his eyes hold nothing but love, and he waits patiently for you to continue.

“i’m really sorry i didn’t say anything, i meant to tell you when we first started dating,” your voice gets higher as the emotion floods your throat, “but everything was going so good, i didn’t want to ruin it.”

you add one final blow before receding, “i thought when i told you, i would offer you an out to go sleep with some other girl just so you could have that experience.” you lament.

spencer lets your words sit in the air for a few moments before softly saying, “can i hold you?” 

he thinks it’s better to have you in his arms before he talks, because as much as his words could comfort you he thinks it can’t hurt for you to feel physically held together after all that’s torn you down.

if he wasn’t watching you so intently he would’ve missed the faint nod you give him. you’re scooped into his embrace with your head tucked under his chin and into his neck. he has one hand supporting your back and the other drawing letters into your thighs, and leans his chin to rest atop your head.

“first of all, please don’t ever feel like you have to ‘offer me an out’, especially for things that are really serious like this.”

“but it’s not fai-“ you try to argue.

“no. you can’t do that. you won’t do that. i don’t care what you’ve been told in the past, but loving and having you means holding every part of you, especially the ones you try to hide. i am not here to pick and choose what i want.”

he holds you the way you would a porcelain doll, achingly beautiful yet terrifyingly fragile.

“my sweet girl, you are not broken. i promise. penetration is not the end all for sex, and it’s not the only way to have sex. studies show that 75% of women feel pain during penetration, sometimes it can be related to stress or anxiety, which i’m sure on top of all that you deal with, that me leaving for cases all the time can’t help.”

he cups your cheek with his warm palm and angles your face to meet his eyes.

“what matters to me the most is that you feel good, and if you don’t feel good then it’s not worth doing in the first place.” he whispers, “if this is something you want to work on in the future, i will be there to help and support you however i can. but if you don’t want to do anything, i will still be there to support you. always. there is no dealbreaker for me, you are it.”

with red stained eyes you look up at him, “are you sure?”

“i’m sure,” he reinforces, “i love you. i don’t think a version of me exists where i am not loving you. you occupy an embarrassingly large amount of my brain, and there’s a lot of stuff in there.” you giggle and spencer feels flowers blooming in his chest.

you sigh and wrap your arms tighter around him, “i love you too, spence.”

you both sit in silence, basking in each others presence.

“you looked so beautiful tonight, i don’t think i told you when you came home.” he softly speaks, stroking your hair.

fiddling with a button on his shirt you reply, “thank you, honey. penny told me to buy that dress, said it’d drive you insane.”

he breathes out, “she was right. i don’t even know if i said anything to you, i was borderline delirious seeing you come home to me.”

you lean up to place a smiley kiss on his neck, “i’ll always come home to you, for as long as you’ll have me.”

“i think i’ll be having you forever.”

“woah,” you smirk, “that sounds borderline stalkerish. better be careful, my boyfriend’s an fbi agent.” 

spencer’s eyes narrow, “i could probably take him.”

“eh.”

“eh?”

[whoreforsexymen]

The VIP Booth | Vander Smut Oneshot 🫗🤎

(Gif creds: me <3)

Pairings: Husband!Vander x Wife!Reader

Pronouns: Fem!Pronouns

Rating: NSFW, 18+, MDNI !! You WILL be blocked! 🤺

Word Count: 3.1k (whoops. got carried away with storybuilding)

Tags: Cunnilingus, Fingering, Face Fucking, Finger Sucking, Hair Pulling, Semi-Public Sexual Acts, Established Relationship, etc.

Summary: You coax your husband into eating you out in the only private area The Last Drop has to offer.

Notes: AAAA!! Idk if this idea is ANY GOOD but it came to me in a moment of delusion. The last bit was probably a little rushed, too. SORRYYYY. I’ll make it up to yall later.

Also, tell me I’m wrong when I say that Vander will go to any length to eat some pussy. Do it, cowards. I dare you. YOU KNOW JUST AS WELL AS I DO THAT THIS MAN WOULD HAPPILY DIE WITH HIS FACE IN BETWEEN A PAIR OF THIGHS.

Asks/Request fics are coming soon, as well as a few more special treats for y’all!! Enjoy, my lovelies, & stay tuned. 🤍

(I can see you, minors!! Get outta here 🤺🤺. BACK! BACK, I SAY!)

Inside the walls of The Last Drop, there was one booth unlike any other—a private, exclusive spot tucked away behind the bustling central room. It was a booth reserved for those willing to pay for top-tier service, offering a secluded escape from the usual chaos of the bar’s environment. But as co-owner of The Last Drop—and wife to the main owner—you didn’t need to fork out any cash to reserve it. Especially not on a night like this. No—tonight, luck was on your side. The booth had gone unclaimed by any paying customer.

Truthfully, the undeniably significant feature were its curtains. The enormous maroon tapestries that enveloped the entrance ensured complete privacy, shielding it from prying eyes. After all, that’s what made it the VIP booth—an oasis of solitude amidst the drunken chaos of the crowd.

With the booth left unreserved, its privacy ensuring a rare moment of seclusion, and the crowd blissfully distracted by their own drunken revelry, the opportunity was simply too perfect to pass up. You had concocted a devilish plan—one that had been simmering in your mind all night. It wasn’t just about messing with your husband—it was about messing around with him.

Your overwhelming desire for your husband was impossible to ignore on any given day, but tonight, it seemed even more intense—an insatiable hunger that gnawed at you, its cause elusive and beyond your comprehension. Whatever the reason, it gripped you with a force you couldn't obstruct, leaving you restless and consumed by pure unadulterated lust.

This, naturally, allowed your plan to unfold effortlessly, as if guided by an invisible hand, bringing it closer to fruition.

To carry out your devious plan, you had carefully cultivated the trust of one of the few individuals who worked for you and Vander. They weren’t exactly employees in the traditional sense, but rather a handful of people you kept on the fringes, offering a few coins in exchange for their occasional assistance. Their loyalty was fleeting, bought with small tokens, but it was enough to serve your purpose. Especially in a moment such as this. A seemingly crucial one—at that.

You kept things vague, framing your request as though it were purely concerning a business discussion needing to be had. You asked your employee to discreetly inform your husband that someone was calling him from behind the velvet curtains of the VIP booth. You also made it clear that the employee should mirror your discretion, avoiding any mention of your name or your connection to him.

The employee appeared curious, even somewhat uneasy, at first. That was, however, prior to you slipping a generous cash bonus their way, eliciting their cooperation without room for protest.

"Go on, please," you plead with your unsuspecting employee, your voice laced with a blend of urgency and excitement. "But remember—don’t tell him it’s me."

As the employee slips into the bustling crowd, you struggle to contain the surge of excitement building within you, all while fighting to maintain a sultry—yet composed, demeanor. You adjust your hair, breasts, and clothing, making subtle moves to enhance your allure and mystery. Every gesture is deliberate, designed to keep you as collected and captivating as possible, cultivating an air of intrigue about you as you desperately await the arrival of your beloved husband.

They fulfilled your agreement as you waited—approaching their boss and informing him that someone had entered the VIP booth, insisting on speaking with him directly.

"VIP booth? Thought nobody booked it tonight," Vander remarks, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms over his chest as he takes a moment to process the information. Normally, you were the one who handled the VIP booth, and he’d have gladly passed this task off to you—if the employee hadn’t mentioned that the VIP “customer” specifically requested Vander. Looks like he’d have to put on a more hospitable facade and give them what they wanted.

If only he knew just what this "customer" truly wanted from him.

After a series of grunts, groans, and huffs, Vander finally made his way to the booth. After forcing a welcoming smile onto his face, he slowly pushed aside the curtains.

"Sorry for the wait. You wanted to speak to the owner—"

His voice faltered, trailing off faster than it had taken him to summon the words.

You feel your own response threaten to catch in your throat, but you won’t cave. You abandon your nerves.

"Why yes, I did. Although..." you drawl, your tone laced with playful mischief, "...'speak' isn’t exactly at the top of the list of things I want to do to the owner."

Your sultry gaze locks onto his, deliciously teasing. Vander, already an imposing figure, looms even larger from your vantage point in the booth. Seated as you are, you find yourself craning your neck significantly just to meet his eyes, the angle only amplifying his commanding presence.

A slew of unidentifiable emotions cross his face in a mere flash before fading into a singularly—equally mischievous to yours—-expression.

“Well. Seein’ as how you are the VIP patron of the night, how can I oblige you?” He queries, his eyebrow raising once more.

Your heart stutters beneath your breast as his expression shifts, his eyes darkening with a lust-filled intensity that sends a shiver through you. The chemistry between you two never failing to baffle you.

"...Serve me," you murmur, your voice soft yet determined to keep the air thick with seduction.

"And what, if I may be so bold to ask, can I serve you with?" he inquires, his voice dipping low, the provocative edge in his gaze unwavering.

"Your body." you quip, your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves stirring in your gut, desperate to make it quiver.

Vander eyes you carefully for a moment, savoring the way your confidence wavers. He deliberately toys with the knowledge of how easily he can unsettle you, his gaze lingering as if relishing every flicker of hesitation you try to hide. A smirk slowly spreads across his mouth—the very one you ached for—his eyes glinting with an all-knowing, deviously sexy twinge. He nods softly, his hand rising to casually caress his beard as he watches you, the tension thick in the air.

“Mmhmm. I see," he murmurs, his tone laced with teasing amusement. "Who am I, if not a man willing to care for his loyal customers?" He phrases simply, the words carrying a heavy, unspoken promise before he moves, gracefully lowering himself to his knees across from you. There’s a moment of silence, the air thick with anticipation, before he slowly begins to push himself beneath the table that had kept you both apart.

You don’t dare look beneath the table, almost afraid to meet his gaze at this moment, unsure of what you might see on his face now that the situation has shifted. The tension coils tighter, each passing second amplifying the anticipation that overwhelmed your senses.

You practically jump at the brush of his shoulders against your shins as he crawls to them, the rush of anticipation making every nerve in your body jolt. The aching desperation pulling through you draws attention to your core as you feel his strong hands gently caress your legs, the heat of his touch settling on your knees, sending a shiver through you. The way your teeth begin to tug at your bottom lip seemed like the only way you could physically process your eagerness.

Vander remains silent, his hands moving deliberately in opposite directions, the gesture designed to spread your legs—yet he did so with enough force to split you down the middle if he hadn’t been careful enough. It isn’t until he successfully parts them that he speaks again.

“No bottoms? My. What a dirty girl you are, my dear customer. What if someone else had walked in here, hmm? Did you plan on flashing your bits to any bloke who popped his head in?” He teases, practically groaning some of his words, the guttural tone an unintentional yet instinctual reaction to the sight of you so bare—-so clearly prepared for whatever scenario it was you anticipated happening in this little corner of the establishment.

It was obvious to your husband, from the way you were reacting, that the possibility of him crawling under the table to bury his face between your thighs hadn’t even crossed your mind. The surprise and hesitation in your twitches and subtle movements told him everything he needed to know.

The distant, familiar chatter of real customers beyond the thin barrier tightened the knot in your stomach, throwing you into the reality of the moment. It became an unrelenting presence, grounding you in the tension that hung in the air. Meanwhile, the hot, damp breath of your husband seethed against the cold slickness seeping from your cunt, a stark contrast that deepened the unease coursing through you.

A shiver ran up your spine, your body trembling as nervous spasms raked through your bones when he edged even closer—his hair grazing your skin in that familiar way you knew so well. It wasn’t uncommon for your husband to spend most of his time down here, yet no matter how often it happened, the anxiety it stirred within you never waned.

You had an even harder time controlling how your body writhed as you felt the warmth of his tongue flush itself against your sopping heat. Your nails pressed into the soft wood of the table, digging in as you braced yourself, your body jerking. The spasms faltered for a moment, your body going rigid once he started violently lapping his tongue against your aching clit. The abrasing way his beard rubbed against the skin of your thighs sent you into a spiral.

You had expected him to fuck you directly on the table, to take you in the way you were used to—but instead, he toyed with you from beneath it, the unanticipated choice leaving you bewildered. You had been aching for what felt like ages, the desperation almost unbearable. It was a struggle to keep your mouth from parting—your head tilting back, eyes closing as your husband began to ease the tension that had gripped you for so long.

All you wanted was to whimper, to cry out for him, but you couldn’t—not with the patrons so close, just beyond the curtains. If he had only fucked you as you’d expected, he would’ve easily pressed a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet, as he had in similar situations before. But this time, you knew he had chosen this path deliberately, testing whether you could hold your composure.

It was his unspoken way of making you atone for the ploy you used to get him here. He was a patient lover, understanding that even though you had pulled him away from his work—which he didn’t mind as much as he let on—you were just too eager to be patient. Always attuned to your needs, he was more than willing to satisfy the cravings of his most cherished wife, finding joy in fulfilling your desires—no matter the time or place. The absence of his familiar presence behind the bar, and the slight potential for upsetting customers, felt like a small price to pay in exchange for the chance to fully indulge in you. To unravel and claim you in ways only he could.

His tongue was relentless. He sloppily sucked and licked at your needy clit, his nose rubbing against the mound of flesh above as he devoured you. His hands were as equally hungry as his mouth, and in need of something to grab. He manhandles your legs, draping them roughly over his shoulders, his fingers gripping at your plush thighs as he curls his arms around them. In doing so, he pulled you closer, your back slipping against the booth as he guided you down, drawing you nearer to him with a purposeful force. His cock was begging to be set free from its cloth prison as he sunk his tongue deep into the void of your cunt. The rhythmic, wet sounds became a melody more captivating than any song he'd ever heard, especially when paired with the soft mewls of you struggling to stay collected—and most importantly—silent.

You can both hear and feel his laugh against you, a deep, low chuckle that carries a mix of arousal and amusement, vibrating through you with every huff. He found the way he could make you squirm incredibly sexy, the reaction sparking a deep sense of pride within him. There was something about the ease with which he could unsettle you that thrilled him, and he took great satisfaction in knowing how little effort it took. He knew all too well that it only took something as simple as a certain look to have you coming undone—and right now, he was determined to make you come undone. All over his tongue.

Vander knows just how wild his fingers can make you on their own— yet especially so when paired with the mastery of his expertly quick and thoughtful tongue.

He wasted no time in combining the two, intent on making you crack under the pressure. While Vander didn’t particularly want to be caught by patrons, either—or, for that matter, by one of your employees—his desire to make you scream was always his top priority.

He grips your thighs with more gusto than before, continuing to pull them further apart in hopes of expanding his ‘workspace’. He releases one of them, the fingers of that hand moving to replace the tongue that was working its familiar magic inside you. He doesn’t give you so much as a single moment to collect your thoughts as he makes the exchange, effortlessly ramming and curling two up into your cunt as his tongue continues its prior attack on your clit.

You swore you were seeing stars behind your eyelids, your grip on the table faltering just like your efforts to stay in control. You couldn't even attempt to cover your mouth, not with the relentless—yet unintentional—way your hands found their way under the table, tangling in his hair and gripping with enough force to pull some strands loose.

You greedily buck your hips down to meet the thrusting of his digits, pulling his head as far into your cunt as possible. He doesn’t complain. He never would. Maybe it was his own type of preferred masochism, but he’d consider suffocating and perishing in between your legs in this way, a noble death.

Your toes ache from the force with which you’re curling them, your legs clutching and winding around his shoulders and neck like a python.

By now, you had abandoned all caution, hope, and effort to moan quietly. You were practically screaming over the deliciously knowing way he prodded his thick fingers into your cunt. He had long forgotten to move them in and out. He knew exactly what spot drove you mad, and he made his most conscious effort to curl them into it as rapidly and frequently as possible.

As much as Vander adored your cries, they were truly becoming far too loud. He really didn’t want any curious folks to come wandering in to spoil the moment when you were so close to your inevitable peak. He has no choice but to silence you. With the hand that remained on your other thigh, he removed it from its resting place, reaching up from beneath the table as he gazes up at you. With a smirk against your cunt, and his eyes studying how your head was still thrown back against the booth, eyes shut tighter than a steel trap—-he shoves two of his free fingers into your mouth. Your eyes shoot open. You look down at him, earning a wink from your husband as he smirks harder against your cunt. The eye contact was filthy, in the most erotic way possible. It always made you feel slightly awkward, in an oddly arousing way, when you made such a type of contact with him in the heat of a moment like this.

You willingly sucked on his fingers, now understanding the purpose for his actions after a thoughtful moment. He groans against your cunt, luckily the sound being muffled by how much his mouth was buried into it. Your tongue swirls itself rapaciously around the digits, drool falling from your mouth as you did so. Vander simply can’t tear his eyes away from such a sight. He groans more as you lower your own gaze, your expression deadly with seduction. He was almost pissy that both of his hands were occupied at the moment. He was anxious to palm at his cock, desperate to find friction of his own now.

His tongue and lips were still working their relentless job on your clit, suckling every few seconds amidst the slurping. The way his facial hair brushes against it every now and then almost sends you into hysterics—bordering on a full blown frenzy.

Your legs are quaking, twitching and spasming with every harsh lick to your clit. It was so sensitive, you couldn’t help how it shocked your nerves, causing them all to fire simultaneously. Electricity burned in your veins, desperate to chase your orgasm as it made your hips flick against his mouth faster than he could lap at you.

Your orgasm burrowed itself into the pit of your stomach, commanding you to follow it down to your cunt.

It didn’t take much longer for you to keel over the edge of your impending climax. It burst through you, your legs clamping shut around his face—a move which Vander was used to by now—-hips mindlessly gyrating against his face as you brutally cum around his fingers. Vander can feel your walls clenching and relaxing back to back with each additional thrust he gave, your voice begging to slip past his fingers as you come undone. He thought you had been dripping wet at the start of this—but he had been sorely mistaken. Your arousal was seeping out of you despite his fingers plugging you up.

“Attagirl..” He whispers against you, giving your clit a few final licks before reluctantly pulling away. The grip on his hair finally loosened as your body went almost completely limp. Your breathing came in rapid, shallow gasps, just as desperate as Vander, himself, now was. His cock was so hard, it felt like it was being choked by his trousers. But he had the patience of a saint. He could wait as long as needed for you to collect yourself once again.

“So, was the service to your liking?” he asks, his tone teasing—and entirely rhetorical—as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. The fingers that had been in your mouth slide free as he takes a moment to compose himself.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he chuckles, clearly amused by how speechless you’ve become.

“Just don’t forget to tip your server..” He teases, alluding to the painfully obvious fact, that this situation is far from over.

[monratarot]

Who will be your future spouse?

Pick a card reading🍄🦋🌸💗

Hello guys! Moni here! 🧚🏼‍♀️

It's almost the half of the month so I was thinking that this would be a good opportunity for those who are single and searching for love.

Here is a free reading about your future spouse. Pick the pile that you are most drawn to and scroll down to read about your future partner. Keep in mind that gender can be reversed.

Takes what resonate with you because remember that this is just a general reading and it might not apply for everyone.

Don't forget to like/reblog/comment and follow me! I would really appreciate it because it will help my blog grow!

So let's get started! Enjoy!💟

Moni🧚🏻‍♀️

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒Your feedback is highly appreciated

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒Like and reblog to claim your pile

Pile 1 🍄☁️🌸 Pile 2 🍄☁️🌸Pile 3

└─── °∘💮∘° ───┘ └─── °∘💮∘° ───┘ └─── °∘💮∘° ───┘

Pile 1 (🌸◠∀◠)(◠ᵕ◠🌸)

MR CREATIVE - control over emotions, diplomatic, compassionate ↓manipulative, a master of emotions with selfish intentions

When you can meet them – Libra season or 7 weeks/7 months, on a Sunday

He is charming and confident but comfortable to be around.

Astrological associations - Libra and Scorpio

Men or women over the age of 40

emotionally passionate

a person with auburn, red, or medium colored hair

solid love

someone dynamic, active, and radiate confidence;

creative man, the poet, the man who dreams deeply

they can be sometimes wishy-washy but always with the flow of things even if he can be frustratingly laid back at the time

vitality, passion, and appetite for life, deeply sensual and not ashamed of his pleasure or his body

in their negative they becomes the addicted or the impotent lover(he becomes posses and lost, living only for the pleasure at the moment

nurture, guide, and support others; act socially responsible; let yourself be touched and moved; listen to others with sympathy and understanding; use intuition in decision-making

Key meaning of the relationship:

a compassionate and somewhat emotional person

a warm and gentle guy, liked by many for his easy nature

warmhearted, charismatic person

they follow their intuition in their work

they are sociable, but sensitive and need to choose their friends wisely

ideal romantic partner

motivated to help others through direct action and cooperation, serene, calm

subtle, friendly, sympathetic, caring, compassionate, affectionate

avoids conflicts and problems, willing to help, co-dependent

hypersensitive to indifference and criticism, difficulty in saying “no”

pessimistic, gloomy, doesn't want to offend or disappoint anyone

nostalgic, unstable, easily seduced, duplicity, rigid control of or hides emotions, manipulation

telling others what they want to hear, can be overwhelming by another's pain

Oracle Message: Support others by supporting yourself first.

Your day may also feel confused, changeable, and with many different things that seem to require your attention from upset teenagers to misunderstandings with others that arise from unchecked emotions.

Time for you to consider finding your own support from this type of person.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ .:☆. ────── ･ ｡☆: .☽ .:☆. ────── ･ ｡☆: .☽ .:☆. ───

a sexy or sensual feel to your love life; a focus on primal urges, sexuality, and dominance; beginnings of a romance that is very physical but sometimes lacking on more substantial levels; the attraction in a new relationship will be based on appearances rather than things in common

Possible job:

entrepreneurs

inventors

goal setters and go-getters

mystics and spiritual leaders

sports coach

fitness instructor

motivational speaker

life coach

army soldiers

coach

┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °

Pile 2 (🌸◠∀◠)(◠ᵕ◠🌸)

I KNOW I'M A DREAMER - romance, adventurism, an invitation ↓moodiness, someone who is too charming, heated emotions/temper

When you can meet them – Pisces season, 12 weeks/12 months, on a Saturday

They are a dedicated, motivated, emotional, tender, sensitive, and loving person

Element - the fire of the suits of water - Aquaris + Pisces

romance, relationships

dreamy, charming, romantic

being focused on love

man or women under the age of 40

dark hair and eyes

faithfulness

this knight’s quest is love

romantic person, a love interest & also yourself in the throes of full-on love

tendency to be manic by nature(one moment you are the love of his life and the next one you are the thorn in their ass)

tendency to be jealous by nature

stalker

Key meaning of the relationship

prosperity, property and beginnings

the beginning stages of something tangible

growth

material abundance

new enterprise

finances or wealth; a solid fruitful foundation

a promotion

good luck

unexpected money

Oracle Message: Act with love, express yourself, be creative.

Allow yourself the time to write poetry, prepare a sumptuous meal, plan that secret date for your partner.

Do something special for your lover today – flowers, chocolates, that date – but something unusual like ice skating, or a quiet out-of-town dinner, something that is intimate and full of togetherness.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ .:☆. ────── ･ ｡☆: .☽ .:☆. ────── ･ ｡☆: .☽ .:☆. ───

love is around the corner and sparks are already flying; great opportunities for growth and positive natural change in romance; speak up and act out in order to get what you want; new relationship, go with the flow; time to pursue new love, to feel silly with someone or just to fall unconditionally in love with you(embrace your inner fool and trust that falling into this phase is the point)

Possible job:

entrepreneurs

inventors

creators

pioneers and adventurers

mystics and spiritual leaders

sports coach

fitness instructor

motivational speaker

life coach

┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °

Pile 3 (🌸◠∀◠)(◠ᵕ◠🌸)

Mr PRACTICAL - abundance, security, financial success ↓greed, temptation, infinite desire for more things

When you can meet them – in Capricorn season, 10 weeks/10 months, on a Tuesday

They are thoughtful and wise, not rushing decisions nor being swayed to conform to modernity

Element - the air of the suit of earth

Astrological association - Aries and Taurus

a generous person

man or women over the age of 40

dark hair and eyes

finding happiness

seeing failures as winds

natural business person

great sense of humor

seeing failures as wins

being positive, being thankful

honest soul

naive for love

educated

emotional

person who demonstrates how resources are gained and used

they are always there

common-sense, apparent, reliable, accomplished, solid, steady, calm, wealthy, supportive

the user of secret knowledge, the knower, and the master of the technology

in their negative - they becomes the manipulator or the denying “innocent” one; taking advantage of others through specialized knowledge(leads to false superiority, isolation, and loneliness)

Oracle Message: This is a day for holding court & solving issues.

People see you as someone trustworthy, authoritative, level-headed, and great in a crisis.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ .:☆. ────── ･ ｡☆: .☽ .:☆. ────── ･ ｡☆: .☽ .:☆. ───

you no longer have the tolerance for the drama that a younger kind of love would offer, what you want is to be with someone who understands what life is really about; you will be successful in your endeavors - have faith

Possible job:

estate agent/developers

businessman/manager

director

master craftsman

banker

stock broker

teacher/educator

merchants

businessman

bodybuilder

bodyguard

professional athlete

entrepreneur

lawyer

banker

consultant

gardener

doctor

electrician

[pulisicsgirl]

christmas on my own - mason mount

summary: when Y/N finds herself spending Christmas alone for the first time in her life, a chance encounter with Mason may prove to be just the cure she needed for her holiday blues

pairing: Mason Mount x reader

word count: 6.3k

warnings/tags: semi-established relationship, the tiniest bit of angst at the beginning but overwhelming fluff for the rest of it, Christmas celebrations, awkward encounters with meeting the family for the first time

requested: no

notes: surprise!! Please ignore the fact that it's been three months since I last posted a fic. Life has been coming at me pretty fast this year, and it's made it incredibly difficult for me to find the time or motivation to write. But I've been thinking about and planning this one since almost October, so I wanted to be sure I was able to put this out as a little Christmas gift for you all!! Thank you for being so patient with my inconsistent posting schedule this year, and I hope you're all able to enjoy some time with your loved ones this holiday season! Also I know that Mila is still a baby, but for the sake of the fic, please pretend she's a toddler Merry Christmas to all of you, my loves!!

You blew hot air into your clenched fists in an attempt to warm them as you stood in the small Manchester café. The biting cold of the outdoors was still making your fingertips ache as you lingered near the counter, long after you had finished placing your order and paying.

You briefly surveyed the somewhat empty café, admiring the glowing lights and cheerful decorations that the owners had put out for the holiday season. A few sets of what you assumed to be grandparents and their grandchildren were also waiting alongside you, some of the children pressing their faces up against the glass display case as they relayed which pastries and treats they wanted to take home with them.

Today was the first Christmas that you had ever spent alone, and seeing the families happy and smiling together made your heart ache a bit, longing for your childhood when the season still felt magical and joyous.

To say that it had stung when your parents told you they would be travelling to spend the holiday with your brother would be an understatement. It had been unexpected, and they had only given you a little less than a week’s notice, meaning that as you were expected to work both the day before and after Christmas, you didn’t have enough time to make arrangements to go on the trip with them. You knew that your parents missed your brother as he had moved away a couple of years ago, and you understood why they would want to go see him and his wife that he had recently married. But it was hard to get left behind to spend the holiday that’s all about being together and giving to one another alone.

So now, on the afternoon of Christmas, you found yourself standing in a small bakery in Manchester, the very one that your family would always stop by on Christmas Day to get a few smalls treats to take back home after you had opened all of your gifts.

You had spent the morning at home, watching a couple Christmas films to try to put yourself in a festive mood and generally just feeling sorry for yourself. You had tried your best not to just mope about all day, but it proved difficult. By the time the afternoon rolled around, you decided that it just didn’t feel right to not make your annual trip to the bakery, even if it would be by yourself this year. So you had dragged yourself out of bed, put on a nice sweater and some black leggings and styled your hair a bit in the hopes of making yourself feel better, and decided to walk to the bakery in order to get a bit of fresh air.

You were lost in your own thoughts, fantasizing about the sweet taste of the coffee and pastry that would surely be coming your way soon when the bell above the entrance rang out. Your eyes naturally jumped over to the door to see where the noise was coming from, and your stomach sank to your feet when you saw who had stepped in.

It was Mason.

You and Mason had been going out for the last few weeks—not long enough to put an official label on it, but long enough that the two of you had gotten to know each other better and knew that you were both serious about this.

You had no idea what he was doing at the small bakery, but the last thing you wanted was for him to find out how pitiful you were, spending Christmas at home, alone on your couch.

Your hand darted up, scratching the side of your head in an attempt to hide your face from him as he approached the register only 10 feet away from you. Hoping that was enough to make sure he wouldn’t see you, your heart began to race as you realized that the worker would be calling out your name when your order was ready, and there would surely be no escape then.

You were beginning to contemplate the possibility of just leaving without the items you had paid for when his soft voice cut through your thoughts, thwarting any plans you’d had to run.

“Y/N?” he asked sweetly, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “Fancy seeing you here! Happy Christmas!”

You glanced up at him, his eyes bright as you tried to feign surprise at the sight of him.

“Mason, hi!” He drew you into a quick embrace, his scent surrounding you almost immediately. “Happy Christmas!” you mumbled into his chest before he released you.

“W-What are you doing here?” you rushed to ask, hoping to avoid any questions about your holiday celebrations.

“I’m actually on my way back home from training,” he spoke, scratching the back of his neck.

“Training? On Christmas?” you exclaimed. “That’s cruel!”

He laughed shortly, nodding along as he spoke. “I know, but we actually have a match tomorrow, so they couldn’t afford us a day off, unfortunately.” He shrugged, seeming like his cheery mood hadn’t been too phased by the interruption from his job. “But anyway, my family all came to mine for the holidays, and my nieces insisted I bring back a treat for them when I came home. I remembered you had mentioned this place, so I thought I should give it a try.”

Your heart fluttered at his mention of your conversation from a couple weeks ago. You had told him about the tradition in passing on a date when he had asked about how you and your family usually celebrated Christmas, and the fact that he had even remembered that detail meant the world to you.

“Oh, that’s so lovely that they were all still able to come up to celebrate with you,” you smiled at him.

“Yeah, they all arrived yesterday, and we did stockings this morning, but I’m sure my nieces are itching for me to get home so they can open the rest of their presents.”

Your chest felt warm at the way he always spoke about his family—especially his young nieces. Anyone could see from a mile off that he loved them all dearly.

“Are they going to be able to stay long?”

“They’ll be here for a couple of days, actually! Gonna be able to go to the game tomorrow as well, so I’m really excited to be able to have them there.” His grin spread nearly from ear to ear, the crinkles by his eyes becoming more pronounced. “But what about you? I’m assuming you’re here picking up the traditional Christmas pastries?”

Your heart sank, trying to find a way around the fact that you were alone for the holidays. You didn’t want him to pity you or to feel bad for expressing his joy over having his family with him. “Well, actually, I—um—”

“Y/N!” one of the bakery’s employees called out, placing a small to-go cup of coffee and a single, wrapped pastry on the counter. Your head dipped low, you walked over to the counter, picking up your order and quietly thanking the employee before you turned to walk back over to Mason. The look of confusion was unmistakable on his face as he looked at the single pastry in your hands, rather than the bulk order of treats that you had told him about weeks prior.

“My… parents actually went to visit my brother for the holidays,” you spoke quietly, having to force each word of your admission out. “So the order’s just for me today.” You forced a smile onto your face, hoping he wouldn’t see through the façade.

“Don’t tell me you’ve been on your own today,” Mason spoke, and you rushed to assure him that you were fine.

“I mean, yeah, but it’s—”

“Y/N, there’s no use in that. We have plenty of food and space at mine! You should’ve said something!”

“I—what?” His response caught you completely off-guard, not at all what you had expected him to say.

“Come over! We’d love to have you!” A huge smile spread across his face as he spoke to you. “There’s no reason for you to spend the holidays alone.”

“Mason, I couldn’t,” you immediately began trying to track back, but he didn’t seem at all discouraged by your protest. “I wouldn’t want to impose, and—”

“You’re not imposing, I’m inviting you,” he stated, matter-of-factly, as if it was just a simple matter. “My family would love to have you, and my nieces will be overjoyed to have someone new around!”

You were stumbling over your words, unable to fight against his persistence. “But… But I…”

“Look, we don’t have to say anything about us at all,” Mason said, sensing your resolve crumbling bit by bit. “You don’t have to meet my family as the girl that I’m dating, I’ll just introduce you as a friend. It’ll be completely fine.”

You bit your lip as you searched his face for any sign of hesitation. You couldn’t deny that the idea of joining in his family’s festivities did lift your spirits a little bit. The idea of being gathered around a Christmas tree and watching everyone opening gifts, maybe wrapped up in a warm blanket as you shared laughs with the others.

The final nail in the coffin for you was thinking about going back to your dreary apartment with the half-hearted decorations and spending the rest of the day by yourself.

“Please?” Mason pleaded with you one last time, his eyebrows raised as he gave you his best puppy dog eyes to convince you.

“You’re sure no one will mind?”

“I’m positive. My mum would be more upset with me if she found out I knew you were spending Christmas alone and didn’t bring you home.” The grin resumed its place on his lips as soon as you agreed, Mason bouncing slightly on his toes in giddy excitement.

Just at that moment, a voice rang out, calling Mason’s name, signaling that his order was ready to go. He quickly moved to the counter, scooping up the rather large box of pastries and holding it in one hand while he grabbed yours with the other and nearly dragged you out of the door of the bakery. You couldn’t help the giggle that slipped from your lips at his almost child-like glee at your agreement to join his family for the rest of their Christmas celebrations.

“Alright, you want to just follow me there?” he asked as the two of you strode into the parking lot. You had been to his place once before for a movie night, but he wanted to be certain you got there safely and didn’t lose your way.

“I actually walked here from my apartment, so would you mind if I just rode with you?” you asked sheepishly.

“Of course, love.” The pet name slipped out without him even thinking about it as he led you to the passenger side of his car, opening the door for you. Testing his luck a bit, Mason pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head as you stepped past him to get into the car, and you felt the heat rushing into your cheeks as he closed the door behind you.

He popped in the driver’s seat, starting the engine and turning the radio onto some station playing nonstop Christmas music, and the two of you were off, heading in the direction of his home.

You were thankful that his house was a little while away as it gave you time to collect yourself before walking into a room full of Mason’s closest family members. You thanked your lucky stars that you had gotten to urge to dress at least a little bit nice before leaving your apartment that morning so that you’d be presentable for meeting them.

After all, even if he introduced you to them as his friend this time around, if things with Mason went the way you hoped they would, you’d be seeing them many times again in the future, and you wanted to make a good first impression. 

The drive to his house was comfortable. The moments of silence were peaceful and never tense. The two of you caught up a bit since you hadn’t seen each other for a few days, and you tried your best not to think too hard about the nerve-wracking evening ahead of you. Mason kept glancing over at your bouncing knee—he could tell that you were nervous, and you could tell that he was fighting the urge to hold your hand.

So, in a moment of bravery, you reached over, bringing his free hand into your lap and intertwining your fingers. You couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered at the slight blush that crept up his cheeks and over the bridge of his nose as he began stroking his thumb across your knuckles, back and forth in a soothing motion.

Sooner than you were prepared for, Mason turned into the long driveway that wound back to his house, and you swallowed a nervous lump as his house came into view.

“You’re sure this is okay?” you asked as he put the car in park and turned off the engine, still somewhat nervous about intruding on their family holiday.

“Y/N, it’s fine,” Mason held your face in both of his hands for a moment, trying to reassure you to the best of his ability. “My mum loves hosting new people, so she’s gonna be super excited when I bring you in there!”

Something about the way he said that made your ears perk up. “Wait, Mason—Mason!” you exclaimed as he quickly got out of the driver’s seat. You threw open your door, leaping to your feet despite the fact that Mason was on his way around to your side to open the door for you. “Did you not at least text them to let them know I was coming with you?” you asked, exasperated.

Mason shrugged as if he didn’t see what the big deal was, shaking his head ‘no.’

“Mason! I can’t just—”

He cut you off by pressing his finger to your lips, gently shushing you. “Hey, trust me,” he looked intensely into your eyes. “It’s okay,” he said slowly.

Your shoulders slumped slightly, resigning yourself to him as you whispered a soft “okay.”

He tapped the tip of your nose and a quiet giggle escaped from your lips. You hated and loved how this boy could turn you into complete mush in mere moments. It made you feel so giddy but also so vulnerable at the same time, and it was a feeling you were still getting used to.

He held onto the car door, letting you step out from behind it before closing it and gestured for you to head toward his front door once he had retrieved the box of pastries from his back seat. He reassured you of his presence just behind you with his hand placed gently on the small of your back.

You hesitated at the front door, letting out a shuddery breath.

“Hey, it’s no biggie. Don’t freak yourself out, okay?” Mason spoke as if he had been able to read your mind, sneaking one final kiss to your forehead before stepping toward the door and reaching for the doorknob. Even though you hadn’t been seeing each other for very long, you noticed how Mason couldn’t seem to help himself from those small touches—the little gestures of reassurance like the forehead kisses, a hand on your back, and gentle touch on your knee—and it kind of surprised you how much they settled you, as you had never been big on copious amounts of physical touch in your past relationships.

Mason stepped through the doorway into his home, and you followed behind him, doing your best to still your racing heart.

It was only seconds after the sound of the door opening could be heard within the house that you hear the sound of tiny feet slapping on the floor, heading in your direction. Moments later, two little girls rounded the corner and came bolting toward you and Mason as he closed the door behind the two of you, the air filled with their squeals and giggles.

“Uncle Masey! Uncle Masey!” they screamed, wrapping their arms around each of his legs. Mason immediately matched their energy, clearly just as excited to be coming home to them as he squeezed them close to his body with his free hand. You took the box of pastries from him so that he could bend down, scooping them both up in his arms and pressing kisses all over their faces. The girls giggled and screamed as he told them how much he had missed them between kisses.

Mason finally pulled back after one final, dramatic kiss that had the older of the two wiping at her cheek and she laughed at him. If you had thought the way Mason spoke about his nieces was sweet, it was nothing compared to the way he acted around them.

“Summer, Mila, this is Y/N,” Mason spoke once the girls’ giggles had quieted.

“Is she your wife?” the older girl asked, and your mouth dropped open in shock.

Mason, clearly amused by her question, threw his head back and laughed. “No, Summer. Y/N is just my friend.”

“Oh, okay,” Summer shrugged, quickly moving on from the conversation, wiggling so that Mason would set her back on the floor. Immediately she took off, running out of sight and Mason followed behind her with Mila still in his arms.

Voices could be heard coming from the kitchen, and you remained just behind Mason as you followed him, hoping that his body would shield you from the rest of his family.

When you found the others, you first saw Summer crawling up into one of the tall chairs at the kitchen bar, surrounded by numerous others. Perfectly-shaped gingerbread cookies lined the countertop, placed on sheets of wax paper, and bags of differently-colored icing were strewn around the countertop, along with various shapes and sizes of sprinkles. Cheerful Christmas music was ringing out through the room, and a warm feeling spread through your chest at the sight of it all.

Several of Mason’s family members greeted him as soon as the three of you entered the spacious kitchen, happy to see him back home from training.

Mason wasted no time in bringing you around to his side with a gentle hand between your shoulders before he let his hand fall to his side, not wanting to make you feel self-conscious in front of his family.

“Guys, this is my friend, Y/N,” Mason smiled at you reassuringly. “She’s gonna be joining us for the rest of the day.”

His introduction irked you slightly, wanting to give more of an explanation for why you were crashing their holiday when Summer piped up from where she was very focused on decorating her gingerbread man. “And she’s not Uncle Masey’s wife.”

A chorus of laughs rang through the room, and you felt your cheeks heat up, forcing a laugh to try to play off the fact that you felt like you were about to pee your pants.

A woman who you could only assume was Mason’s mother wiped her hands off on a dish towel, walking in your direction with open arms.

“Oh, it’s so lovely to meet you, Y/N! I’m Debbie—Mason’s mum,” she spoke, confirming your guess. Mason quickly snatched the box of pastries from you so your hands were free and Debbie pulled you into a tight embrace—it was one of those hugs where you felt every muscle in your body relax a bit, and immediately you felt a little bit more settled in the unfamiliar environment.

“Thank you so much for having me.” You felt a bit silly, thanking her for being willing to do something she hadn’t even really agreed to in the first place.

“No, no, it’s nothing!” Debbie pulled back from the hug, waving her hand at you before she led you further into the kitchen, beginning to introduce you to everyone.  You met Mason’s father, Tony, who had greeted you with the same warm embrace that Debbie had, and then she introduced you to Mason’s brother, Lewis, and his sister Jaz and her husband before repeating the young girls’ names to you. Everyone had greeted you cheerfully, not even blinking an eye at the fact that Mason had brought a stranger home to join their Christmas celebration.

It wasn’t long before Debbie had you set up with your own sheet of wax paper and a cookie to decorate. You caught Mason’s eye, a sweet smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye that said I told you so.

You were surprised at how easy it was to settle in with Mason’s family. You had never been someone that was good at meeting new people, and it typically took you a while to warm up to them. But Mason’s family wasted no time in treating you as one of their own, and it almost felt natural to be there with them within minutes.

Playful banter was exchanged, Summer and Mila were shouting for everyone to look at their sprinkle-covered cookies, and everyone was laughing. Mason settled into his spot next to you, nudging you gently with his shoulder.

Mason’s family asked a little bit about yourself, but they kept the questions light, and you were thankful that they didn’t try to dig into why Mason had brought you home.

Once all the cookies had been decorated, the girls began shouting that it was time to open presents and Jaz had to wrestle them into wiping their hands and faces clean of icing before they took off, sprinting in the direction of the living room.

Once everyone had settled in the living room, some on the couch, some sitting on the floor, Tony donned a large Santa hat and beard before he began to distribute the gifts that were under and around the tree. You had kicked your shoes off by the door and tucked your legs up under you as you settled into the cushions next to Mason, a respectable amount of space still between you as you still didn’t really know how to handle yourselves around his family.

Each person opened their presents as Tony handed them out, one by one, and everyone ooh-ed and ahh-ed as each gift was uncovered. Debbie and Jaz were taking lots of photos of everyone as they tore into their gifts. Your heart swelled at the thoughtful gifts that were exchanged. It became quickly apparent that remembering small details about the things people said was something that Mason had gotten from his family.

Mason kept silently checking in on you, glancing over to make sure you doing okay. You could feel his gaze on the side of your face, glancing over and making eye contact with him before shooting him an assuring smile.

By the time all of the presents were open and the wrapping paper and ribbons had been collected and put into trash bags, it was nearing dinner time and Debbie disappeared back into the kitchen to put the finishing touches on the food. You sprang to your feet, naturally wanting to help her as a thank you for having you as a guest (despite her insistence that you didn’t need to), and Jaz joined the two of you soon after.

Conversation flowed naturally between the three of you, and you felt completely at ease talking with them as you worked to finish the finals bits of the Christmas dinner, most of it having been prepared before and very little needing to be done to finish it.

The fated question finally came up as the three of you were carrying everything to the table.

“So, Y/N, I don’t mean to pry, but I’ve got to ask.” Your heart leapt immediately at Debbie’s words. “Are you and Mason only friends, or is there something more going on there?”

You pondered for a moment how to answer her question. At the beginning of the day, you would never have dreamed of admitting the nature of your relationship with Mason to his mother. But now, after the time you had spent with him, you settled on telling her the truth. You knew you were serious about the budding relationship between the two of you, and you knew he was, too. Though you hadn’t officially put any labels on it, having decided to take things slow, you had started being more open about it with your circle of friends.

“Well, I… we’ve… gone on a few dates,” you started, and a pleased smile took over Debbie’s face. “We’re taking things slow, but he’s been an absolute gentleman and he’s been nothing short of amazing to me.”

Debbie beamed with pride at your words. “Well, I didn’t raise him to be anything less than that, so I’m glad to hear it.”

“We haven’t been going out for very long, and I really wasn’t planning on crashing your family’s Christmas today,” you felt the need to explain yourself, now that you were putting all of your cards on the table. “My family… they actually are out of town visiting my brother this holiday season, and I happened to run into Mason at the bakery this afternoon. As soon as he found out I was spending Christmas on my own, he insisted I come back here with him, and he was not taking no for an answer,” you chuckled at the recent memory.

“Oh, love,” Debbie’s face held a slight pout as she instantly read the sadness that you tried to hide over not spending the holiday with your family. She pulled you into another of her amazing hugs, placing a quick kiss on your cheek as she drew away. “Well I speak for everyone when I say we’ve loved having you here with us.”

Your mind flashed back to how unphased everyone had been by your arrival. “Does Mason do this a lot? Picking up strays for the holidays?” you tried to play off your question with a laugh, momentarily wondering if you were just another girl on a long list.

Debbie shook her head. “No, he’s never done anything like this before. And he’s certainly never brought a girl home for something like this,” she spoke, calming your nerves. You had felt a bit silly for asking in the first place, but her words soothed your fleeting insecurities. “But hopefully we can look forward to having you at many Christmases in the future,” she beamed, patting your cheek before she wandered back into the kitchen and refraining from prying any further.

You blew out a long breath that you didn’t even realize you had been holding, trying to wrap your head around the conversation you had just had—with a woman you had only met a few hours ago. And it wasn’t just some normal thing for Mason to bring girls home during the holidays, but everyone had just been that welcoming to you, despite showing up without warning. Your chest felt full, swelling with love for Mason and his family.

Debbie called the others to the table to eat, and you wandered in the direction of the living room, hoping to catch Mason for a moment before you joined the others. The rest of his family filtered out of the room, leaving you and Mason alone for the first time in the last few hours.

“You doing okay?” Mason asked, and you wordlessly wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his chest and holding onto him tighter than you ever had before. Caught a bit off-guard by the affection, Mason wrapped his arms gently around your body, running his fingers up and down your spine.

His heart sank when you pulled your head back to look at him, arms still wrapped around his torso, and he saw the tears welling in your eyes.

“What happened, love?! Did someone say something—”

“Thank you,” you whispered, your lower lip trembling.

“For what, love?” Mason cradled your cheek in one of his hands, swiping his thumb under your eye to wipe away a tear. You noticed that he used the pet name more frequently when he was concerned.

“For bringing me here. For introducing me to your family. They’re amazing, Mason.”

A look of relief and adoration washed over Mason’s face and he smiled at you, leaning down to press his forehead to yours. “I’m so glad you came.”

“Me, too,” you let your eyes slip closed, allowing yourself to take a moment to yourselves and let your heart settle a bit.

“You know your mom asked me about us?” you broke the silence after a few seconds.

“Yeah?” he pulled back to look at your face, trying to gauge your reaction. “And what did you tell her?”

“The truth,” you gently shrugged your shoulders. “That we’ve gone out a few times and we’re taking things pretty slow, but that I think I’ll probably keep you around.”

“Yeah?” he grinned, and you nodded in response.

“Come on, we should probably head in there before Summer comes looking,” you pulled back, wiping away any stray tears with the sleeve of your sweater, hoping that no one would be able to tell how emotional you had just gotten.

The two of you joined the others at the table, taking your place between Mason and Summer after she had insisted you sit beside her, much to Mason’s fake offense. The food was incredible, as it had been a while since you’d had a big home-cooked meal like this, and you were sure to let Debbie know how much you enjoyed it. When everyone’s plates were empty, everyone took part in the freshly-decorated cookies and Mason and Lewis cleared the dishes, being sure to push you, Debbie, and Jaz toward the living room before any of you tried to help.

You were just returning from a quick trip to the bathroom when the boys walked back in from the kitchen, and you noticed everyone settling back down on the couch.

“We always watch a Christmas film after dinner, but I can take you home if you’re ready to leave,” Mason explained to you.

You thought over the offer for a moment, deciding you weren’t really ready to part from Mason and his family just yet.

“I mean… I wouldn’t mind sticking around a little while longer—unless you guys were wanting it to be just a family thing,” you rushed to add, not wanting to overstay your welcome.

Your words were met with immediate protest from the rest of Mason’s family, each of them insisting that you stay, and Mason smiled down at you. “Yeah, what they said.”

You giggled, letting him lead you around to sit next to him on the couch, allowing yourself to sit a bit closer to him than you had earlier that afternoon.

Tony even offered for you to pick the film, but as soon as Summer had shouted her desire to watch Elf, you were all agreed.

Mason threw a fluffy blanket over both of your legs as the movie’s opening scene played. “Is this okay?” he whispered, trying not to draw anyone else’s attention and you nodded in return.

You tucked your legs under your body, allowing your knee to rest slightly on his thigh and your shoulder to lean onto his, now feeling more comfortable showing some affection around Mason’s family.

The movie played on, and your heart soared listening to Summer and Mila giggle and clap their hands at their favorite bits. You felt at home there with Mason and his family, all cozied up in his living room on the night of Christmas as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Your heart swelled with the love that you already felt for all of them, and though you knew it was still a bit soon, you couldn’t wait to get to know them and get to spend more time with them as your relationship with Mason developed.

As comfortable as you were and with all of the lights in the house turned off for the movie, you didn’t even realize your eyes were slipping closed until you jolted awake, recognizing the scene on the TV as one that was near to the end of the movie. Mason must have felt the sudden movement from where your head was resting on his shoulder, and he took your hand in his, running his thumbs over your knuckles to calm you, the same way he had done in the car earlier that day.

You nestled your head further into his shoulder, savoring the last few moments you had with Mason and his family before the movie ended.

It was over sooner than you would have liked, and everyone sat up from where they had sunk into the couch cushions, stretching and yawning. It was clear that everyone was exhausted from the day’s festivities. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, noticing Jaz and her husband quietly scooping up the girls from where they, too, had fallen asleep, and carried them down the hallway, seemingly to put them to bed.

“You ready to go home?” Mason asked you quietly as everyone began to rise from the couch. You nodded. “Okay, let me go grab my keys and we can head out.”

“Oh, Mason, I can just call an Uber or something, I don’t want to take you away from your family—”

“Absolutely not,” he cut you off. “You think I’m gonna let some stranger come pick you up and drive your back to your apartment?” You grinned at him, unable to find the words to answer him. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” His voice held an air of playful sarcasm.

Slowly, the two of you made your way to the front entrance. Everyone bade you goodbye as you made to leave. Debbie was sure to get a couple more hugs in before you left, insisting that you come around the next time they were up to visit, and you promised that you would.

Before long, you found yourself sitting in Mason’s car once again as he backed out into the street and set out on the route to your apartment. You were leaning across the center console of his car, leaning your head on his shoulder, and holding his free hand in yours.

You were feeling especially affectionate after the day you had, full of love for him and his family. The drive was silent as you listened to the music softly playing from his radio, no words needed to communicate to each other how you were feeling.

Before long, Mason pulled into the parking lot of your apartment complex and insisted upon walking you up to your door, like the gentleman he always was.

As you reached your door, you turned to face him, giggling at the cliché of it all as you wrapped your arms around his torso. He pulled you in close to him, holding you tightly as he beamed down at you.

“Was your Christmas okay, then? Even though you didn’t get to spend it the way you usually do?”

“Mason, it was wonderful,” you smiled up at him, feeling like there were no words that would do justice for how the day had made you feel. “It was better than I ever could have imagined. Thank you for bringing me home with you today. I was honestly feeling awful after spending the morning by myself and this was the best Christmas miracle I could’ve ever dreamed up.”

Mason squeezed you a little tighter, pleased that his impulsive decision at the bakery to invite you to his home had worked out. “I’m so glad you were there. I’m so glad you got to meet them.”

“I am, too. And I’m glad I got to share this day with you.” Your heart felt like it was overflowing, and you could barely hold yourself together.

You snaked one of your hands around the back of Mason’s neck, threading your fingers into his hair and pulling him down to join your lips in a long but gentle kiss. It was the first one you had shared all day, as Mason had been waiting for you to initiate it first, but you couldn’t refrain from indulging yourself any longer. This was surely your favorite kiss that the two of you had shared, even more so than your first. It was so full of unspoken passion and love, and it left your head spinning when you finally pulled apart for air, foreheads still pressed together.

Mason couldn’t help but press two more quick pecks on your lips before finally pulling back to look at you. The two of you just smiled at each other for a moment, and you studied Mason’s features as you stood there.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Mason whispered, breaking the silence.

“Goodnight, Mason,” you replied. “Thank you for everything today.” Mason’s only response was a firm kiss on your forehead before he unwound his arms from your body, taking a couple of steps backward as he began heading back to his car.

You watched him walk down the hallway, glancing back at you with a wave before he rounded the corner, and you entered your apartment.

Closing your eyes and leaning against the closed door, you smiled to yourself. You may not have known Mason for long, but already, you were certain that this boy meant the absolute world to you, and his family had found their place securely in your heart.

tag list: @landoslover @thoseboysinblue @lovelynikol16 @swimmingismywholelife @masonsrem @brasiliangp @neverinadream @lizzypotter14 @notsoattractivearenti @chilwellspulisic @mm-vii @captainpulisic

[gallusrostromegalus]

Hi, I was re-reading the AEIWAM tag and was wondering how exactly Aizen manages to kill Genkai? She seems one of the most put-together Kenpachi's and Aizen is well Aizen? Did he do it himself or were the curse nails involved?

Kenpachi Genkai has a Lieutenant named Gosuke Kiganjo.

She's fond of Gosuke. He's a quick-witted man with a delightfully jaded opinion of humanity, in contrast to young wife Kakiyo, who has such a resolute sense of Justice she can sometimes make the elderly captain almost believe in the inherent goodness of humanity again. They make a splendid couple, her willingness to do the hard work of improving lives pairs well with his pragmatism and sense of efficiency.

Genkai enjoys their company- it's a terrible thing to be Old, but worse to be Old and Lonely, so she allows them to have her over. She and Kakiyo debate the practicality of the young woman's latest scheme to improve life in the Rukongai while Gosuke cooks. Genkai is sure Yamamoto's decision to transfer Kakiyo as a seated officer in the 4th to lieutenant of the 5th Division under Captain Hirako is not just balancing Shinji's tendency to procrastinate on his work and take inadvisable shortcuts. Yamamoto plans to have her run the 5th someday, and Genkai agrees with the choice.

Oftentimes Kakiyo and Gosuke's friend Sosuke Aizen is there too. He's an agreeable young man, if somewhat forgettable. He has a good memory though, and generous- he always brings fresh produce for Gosuke to make dinner with, and always remembers Genkai's fondness for Garlic Greens.

(continued under the cut)

Gosuke missed his calling as a housewife, Genkai thinks, with no small appreciation of the work that goes into running a house. But he is a splendid cook, and she enjoys many dinners with the couple and their friends.

But she is old. She feels it in her heart- not emotionally, she's not sentimental, but she feels it in the way her heart skips and thuds and the sharp pains in her chest. "Cardiac Arrhythmia" Unohana says. Her heart is failing, falling out of sync, and someday, she'll have a massive heart attack if she's not killed in the traditional way Kenpachis are.

Unohana offers her treatment- Foxglove, deadly to eat a leaf, but diluted into Digitoxin pills, it steadies her heart a bit. She takes the pills with some reluctance- when she remembers to. The duties of a captain are many and more complex than ever, and again, she allows Gosuke to do her a favor- He remembers her medication schedule, and puts the pills next to every meal he cooks for her- almost all of them these days.

...But eventually, the inevitable happens, and three months after her diagnosis, Ninth Kenpachi Genkai dies of a massive heart attack in her sleep after dinner at Gosuke and Kakiyo's home.

When Retsu Unohana does her autopsy of Genkai, something seems amiss- the damage to Genkai's heart is much more advanced than Unohana had expected from her exam less than twelve weeks ago. She should have known- Genkai wouldn't splint broken bones half the time, preferring to rely on her body to heal, and underestimating what she was borrowing from the future.

Unohana rules her Cause Of Death as "Heart Failure", and can only assume that Genkai had not benefited from what little of the Digitoxin she managed to take.

---

A week later, Kiganjo is promoted to Captain of the 11th, and according with tradition, forgoes his given name to assume the Title and mantle of the office.

Now-Kenpachi Kiganjo is somewhat overwhelmed by his new duties, as well as wracked with grief. He cannot bear to clean out his beloved Captain's quarters. Kakiyo grieves differently- the physical work and care she can give to the former captain's belongings will ease the emotional pain, so she offers to clean out the captain's quarters for him.

She is still friends with her colleagues in the fourth, especially Unohana, and as a Lieutenant she's entitled to see the results of the Autopsy. Its puzzling, Unohana's statement that she must not have taken her medication- she watched Gos- her husband put her pills on the tray of every meal he cooked for her in the last twelve weeks. Was she just throwing them away?

It's even more confusing when the clean-out fails to turn up a single pill. She should have found some in the trash or swept under the furniture, right? Maybe it had all been taken out.

That night, she's home alone. Go- her husband is working late while he catches up on the job. She opens the pantry and glares at it- part of the reason she married him was that he was such a good cook. She never got the hang of it, that was always Kaname's chore growing up. Ugh. It's been a long and emotional day and she's got a headache-

She opens the medicine cabinet in search of the aspirin, and is confronted with the Perscription Bottle of Digitoxin. That must be where he was storing it while he cooked for Genkai. Best remove it before he gets back and is reminded- she thinks as she picks the bottle up.

It's full. In fact. It's completely unopened. ...And the pills look nothing like the ones G- Her Husband had been putting on Genkai's tray.

She stands there. Trying to make sense of it. Was this a second bottle? Prescriptions came in three-month supplies, maybe he had just finished out the first bottle when she died, and this would have been her next bottle of medication? She goes to check the date-

"Anyone home?" 5th Division third seat Aizen calls out.

"MOTHER FUCK- I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Aizen- You startled me and it's- it's- Oh God, I miss her so much!" Kakiyo sobs, and Aizen appears at her side, a comforting shoulder to cry on.

He escorts her to the living room and lets her sob while he gets the kitchen in order and cooks- He used to be a confectioner before he was a Shinigami and he makes a good fried rice too. He tells her stories about the candy business and childhood chicanery he got up to with his brother back in West 43 until-

-She almost doesn't recognize the man as her husband at first. Something is wrong with his posture, stooped and sluggish, and grimacing where there should be a grin. But the tenth Kenpachi comes and embraces his wife, and- it's alright. He's still her husband, and she lets him carry her to bed.

When she wakes up late the next morning, she stumbles into the bathroom and squints at the counter- There was something in here she needed to ask her husband about- Something about? Ugh. She can't remember. She feels hungover, and whatever it was is gone now.

---

On his way back to the 5th, Sosuke Aizen stops on the bridge over the canal, looks around to make sure he is alone, and dumps the bottle of digitoxin pills into the canal. He tears off the label from the bottle, tears it up, takes a look around for witnesses again, and throws the bottle and torn label into the trash-filled canal.

Lily of the Valley is the token flower of the 5th division, a symbol of Purity and Innocence. It's also quite poisonous- all parts of the plant are toxic, and will cause cardiac problems in high enough or continuous doses. Foragers must be very careful to not mistake the leaves for wild garlic greens- they look extremely similar. Lily Of The Valley has not much flavor, so a few leaves might not be noticed in a whole bunch, especially if they're all cooked in the same dish together.

Eating a bit won't kill, but one leaf in a bunch a few times a week could prove fatal in a few short months. Especially if the person is prevented from taking Digitoxin to counteract the effects.

He nearly had a heart attack himself when he saw the bottle on the bathroom counter, but with Kakiyo so tired already, it wasn't hard to weave Suigetsu's illusions around her, cutting off her memory of the bottle, and the autopsy report.

He'll have to talk to his co-conspirator about these slip-ups. His wife is quite observant, and it would be a shame if the lovely Kakiyo had to be dealt with as well. At least, before she has been of more use to Aizen. His plan demands that he eventually control the Fifth division, and the fact she outranks him is... inconvenient.

---

About a week later, Head Librarian of the West 51 District Library Kaname Tousen receives a letter from his sister Kakiyo in the Seireitei. She writes (Or rather, she has carefully dented the Vellum with Braille, the thin calfskin holds the marks better through the mail) about the sudden decline and death of their good friend Genkai, and how profoundly the loss has effected his brother-in-law. She doesn't actually use the name "Gosuke" anywhere in the letter, only referring to him as "My husband".

Kaname is saddened as he reads, but then he worries, as she writes about how stressed she's been- strange lapses in memory, paperwork mislaid- thank goodness third seat Aizen had found and filed that report for her. How distant and humorless her husband has been- coming home late and reeking of alcohol even! She has the terrible feeling that there is something wrong, even more than her friend's sudden and saddening death. Something is terribly, terribly wrong, but she can't imagine what it is.

...Maybe it's just the grief. I keep seeing conspiracies in coincidences, jumping at shadows- but there's nothing there.

I know you've got the summer reading program, and I can't take enough time to travel out there right now- write back soon? Tell me about the summer students and the state of the town, how you and Sajin are. You have a gentleness with your words I could use right now.

All my love,

Kakiyo

[elysiansparadise]

Hi Elysian! I hope you're having a great day ^^

May I ask for your opinion on Mercury in the 10th house?

Thankyou!

Hello love! I am, I hope you are having a great day too. 

Mercury in the 10th house

These people are usually seen as very capable and intelligent by other people, it is likely that they have a skill or talent that makes them stand out greatly in one of their circles. Many of these natives tend to be a recurring topic of conversation for people, whether in their family or work area. Since I mentioned work, these people can find it very easy to climb the ladder, achieve promotions or get close to bosses. They may have in mind that they must progress, that they must be constantly doing something and that they have to be productive. The idea of ​​not continuing to improve or stagnating can make them very nervous. They tend to have an inner perfectionism that makes them not believe or accept their own abilities or demand a lot from themselves. Burnouts and stress are very common with this placement. They have an insatiable curiosity and enjoy continuing to learn, so it is very important that they look for jobs that allow them to expand their mind, acquire new knowledge, or that it’s not so rutinary. 

They tend to be people who are anxious about the future, they are also somewhat restless both physically and intellectually. I have noticed that many people with this placement do not seem as sociable as they really are, even if they fall into the introvert category, people may feel that it is easy to talk to them about any topic. They have very diverse interests and in different categories, and they can stand out in more than a single interest. It is precisely for this reason that in terms of the labor field, they can have quite a few options, some of the most common are: writers, communicators of any type, public relations, sales sector, teachers and even public figures. Many of them tend to look younger than they are and can be very good at communicating with all types of people regardless of their age. However, they may enjoy talking more with people older than them or with more experience on topics that awaken their interest. Despite their open nature, they are people who, when they have a problem or moment of tension, may prefer to isolate themselves to resolve it. They have difficulties with the idea of ​​being able to rely on or ask for advice [and even help at times] from others. They have learned to figure things out. out by themselves.

Their way of speaking arouses the interest and curiosity of others easily. They are very dual people in their communication, oscillating between charisma and professionalism. It is very likely that their words frequently inspire others or that their advice remains impregnated in the minds of those who listen. These people prefer to stay realistic and can be very objective in their way of seeing things. They like to have things told to them clearly, as they take their time to make people understand their point. Despite being very realistic people, they have a high degree of creativity and can be quite inventive. They understand and learn things through practice and things that are only theoretical can seem overwhelming to them. They think very carefully before making a decision and do not usually allow themselves to be influenced by others. Ironically, many may turn to them when they do not know where to go, what to do, or generally feel clueless/lost. They are people capable of understanding the points of view of others without changing their way of thinking, they can see the same situation in different ways.

-> Go back to the masterlist

[is-this-yuri]

so, no shame, i had a meltdown in response to that video i was working on getting disappeared by a crashing app. i'm autistic and emotional overwhelm is to be expected. ESPECIALLY given the stress i'm under being homeless.

i was crying quite loudly for about half an hour, and this is something i can soothe and guide myself through to vent my emotions. it's nessecary and, at this point after years of implementing coping strategies, a pretty harmless regulatory activity.

however, since i'm homeless and i live in my car, i have no private space to go through these meltdowns. they can be disturbing to witness or hear from a distance, i mean for me it often involves screaming and sobbing. but i reiterate they are not an immediate sign of danger.

apparently, someone thought a child was crying in my vehicle and called the police.

since i'm at a state park, a ranger came by to check on me and warn me the cops were coming, so i got out of there.

my question is, if you're so concerned about a potential child in distress, why wouldn't you go up to the vehicle and check on them yourself? why hide behind the police like a coward? such an 'innocent act of concern' could have really put me in danger.

police are not understanding about autistic meltdowns. they, and frankly the general public, see them as potentially dangerous. while it isn't unheard of, reports of autistic meltdowns resulting in violence are very overblown and used to fear-monger. i've never acted violently toward anyone during a meltdown, ever. but i HAVE been a victim of violence from both people i trusted and police attempting to control my meltdowns.

i'm constantly checking my surroundings to make sure i'm at least somewhat alone before having one of these meltdowns. i can't always contain them until i get to a place where i can be alone. it's not always safe to drive myself anywhere when my emotions are hightened. there is no stopping a meltdown, it WILL happen once i reach a certain emotional tipping point. a tipping point my stressful life places me right at the edge of all the time.

i don't feel safe anymore. anywhere. i'm not allowed to and cannot safely regulate my intense emotions, and there's a real risk of me being imprisoned, restrained, hospitalized, hurt, or killed because of this.

the ironic thing is the topic of the video i was working on is very relevant to this experience. this is my real, every day life, and i'm fucking exhausted of it. i'm angry. i deserve to feel safe.

[v3nusstardust]

How close can best friends get?🫶

|| Beomgyu x Reader ||

Genre : fluff 🤍

Warnings : none ho

You had a long rough day , but your bestie beomgyu came to the rescue! Long story short.. after work you called him crying about all the stress and pain you’d been keeping in for a while.

He’s always there to listen ,he always has been there. That’s what made him so special to you. He wasn’t just your best friend but.. he was also your crush.. somewhat. You loved him like a best friend but also like a lover ..

It had been a tough day…. work was overwhelming, and everything seemed to be falling apart. You felt exhausted and lost, like the weight of it all was too much to carry alone. So, you did what you always did when you needed someone, you called your best friend Beomgyu.

When you called him, he picked up right away. You could barely speak through the tears, but Beomgyu didn’t rush you. He just listened, his calmness making you feel safe enough to let everything out.

“I’m sorry, Gyu,” you cried, your voice shaking. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Everything just feels like too much.”

“It’s okay.. Don’t apologize for the way you feel y/n .. I’m here to listen, Im not going anywhere, Kay?” Beomgyu’s voice was steady and warm.

You told him about the stress from work, the pressure you’d been feeling from life in general, and the weight of everything you’d been keeping to yourself for so long. It felt good to say it all out loud, even though it was hard. Beomgyu listened through it all. He was always so patient with you. That’s what made him so special.

Beomgyu has always meant so much to you. It’s hard to ignore the truth but.. you’ve always had feelings for him. Just a little.

You’d always been so careful not to blur the lines between friendship and something more. Beomgyu was your best friend, the one who could make you laugh when you felt like crying, the one who would listen to your rants late into the night. But over time, those feelings had deepened into something else. You’d tried to suppress it, to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat when he laughed, or how you always found yourself thinking of him when you were alone.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you," you whispered. "You’re always there when I need you... m-more than anyone else. I just don’t know how to say it.” Your voice was shaky with emotion.

He was quiet for a moment, the silence almost deafening. You worried for a second that you had said too much, but then you heard his soft and gentle laugh.

“You don’t have to say anything, really. I get it,” he replied, his tone warm and reassuring. “I’m always here for you, no matter what.”

“I’m so glad you’re in my life,” you said. And for a moment, you wondered if he felt the same way too.

"Hey, why don’t we hang out tonight?" he suggested. "I don’t think it’s good if you’re alone with your thoughts tonight y/n… I know how you can get sometimes.. I can come over, we can eat snacks, and watch some movies. What do you say?”

“I’d love that,” you said, the exhaustion in your voice mixing with a bit of relief. “That sounds perfect, Gyu! But.. it’s like 1 am right now”

"I know," he said . "I'll be there in 20 minutes, okay? Get comfy, we're doing a full movie marathon.”

—————

You sighed and leaned back in your bed, staring up at the ceiling, your thoughts still spiraled. The rattling sound of the wind outside was oddly comforting.

You were grateful for Beomgyu, though. He always knew how to show up, even when you didn’t ask for it. He never pushed when you needed space, but he also never hesitated when you needed someone to remind you that you weren’t alone.

|| 1:47 am ||

You continued to just zone out for a while , until you heard a knock on your door.

You put on your cute slippers and fixed yourself a little as you made your way to the door. You took a deep breath in before opening the door.

“Hi gyu “ you gave him a warm smile. Beomgyu stood there, a bag of snacks in one hand, his other hand tucked into the pocket of his hoodie. He grinned as soon as he saw you, the familiar twinkle in his eyes making you feel a little lighter. “Hey, Y/n,” he said. “Got you some chips, candy, and..” He paused, holding up a cup of (your fav drink).

You smiled a little wider, stepping aside to let him in. “Ugh gyu you’re literally the best. What would I do without you” you sighed as you both made your way to your room.

“Sorry about the mess.. ha..” you chuckled nervously. You forgot to pick up a bit before he came , but whatever he’s your best friend. He didn't comment on it though, just tossed the bag of snacks onto your bed and flopped down next to it.

“Movie marathon?” he asked, reaching for the remote. "I'll pick the first one, and no falling asleep during the movie! " he teased.

“I never do!” You giggled as you took a seat beside him on the bed.

He raised an eyebrow at you, clearly not buying it. “Mhm.. sure y/n” he replied. You laughed.

“What movie do you wanna watch? “ he asked while scrolling with the remote.

You thought for a moment before answering, grinning a little. "How about (your fav movie) ?" you suggested, the one movie you could watch over and over again without ever getting bored.

“Ahh good choice,” he said before clicking play on the remote. You leaned back into the pillows, pulling the blanket up around your shoulders as the opening scene began.

As the movie played on, you found yourself not really paying attention to the plot, but rather.. Beomgyu's presence. The lighting was dim in your room .. and it just made him glow. His side profile was gorgeous and his beautiful blonde mullet was the cherry on top.

You found yourself staring a little longer than you should, trying to pinpoint what was making your heart race in a way that felt unfamiliar. The warmth of his presence was always comforting, but this felt different.

His blonde mullet, slightly messy , framed his face so delicately . The dim lighting of the room made him look almost ethereal… like something out of a dream. You blinked again, trying to snap yourself out of it.

What’s going on with me? You shifted uncomfortably on the bed, maybe it’s because how close you were to him

You told yourself it was just the exhaustion of the late hour, the cozy atmosphere, or maybe just how close the two of you were that made everything feel a little too... intimate.

But… he was your best friend. You’d always felt safe with him, always had fun with him. You could talk about anything, and he always knew exactly how to make you laugh. There’s no way this could be anything more, you thought, trying to rationalize it. Right?

You glanced at the clock—3:56 am. A yawn escaped your lips, and you tried to stifle it, but it was no use. The tiredness was finally catching up with you.

Beomgyu caught onto it. "Tired, huh?" He smiled at you . "Told you , you wouldn’t last."

You rubbed your eyes and let out a small laugh. "I guess so..." Your head felt heavy, your body sinking deeper into the bed. Maybe I was a little more tired than I thought.

You rested your eyes. and then.. you fell asleep.

————————

|| 8:41 am.. ||

Your mind was still foggy from sleep, and for a moment, everything felt like a blur. The soft rays of morning light filtered through your window, but it wasn’t until you felt the warmth next to you that you realized something was off. you felt something or other.. someone beside you. Your mind was still hazy from sleep. You froze for a moment.

Wait, what? You thought, suddenly very aware of the weight on your shoulder and the arm draped gently across your waist. Beomgyu. You could tell by the soft breathing that he was still asleep.

You carefully shifted, but Beomgyu’s arm tightened around you, pulling you closer in his sleep. He picked up his leg and draped it over yours. Oh my god, you thought, panic rising. This is so not how I imagined waking up. You tried to remember how you’d ended up like this. The last thing you remembered was falling asleep, your eyes getting heavy and then… but how did he end up so close beside you?

You were tangled up with him, literally and emotionally, and you had no idea what to do with the sudden rush of warmth flooding your chest. You carefully tried to shift your body away from his.

This made it so much worse.

Beomgyu scooted closer to you. Resting his head on your chest and cuddling you like a little teddy bear. His warm breath tickled your neck as he scooted even closer. You felt your face flush at the closeness. You bit your lip, trying to calm your racing heart. For a moment, you simply laid there, his warmth against you, listening to the soft sound of his breathing. Maybe you could just stay in this moment forever, pretending everything was fine, pretending you weren’t questioning everything about your feelings for him.

The way he fit so perfectly against you, his body pressed up against yours like he belonged there. You had never felt this kind of closeness with him before, and it was making everything inside you feel... confusing.

This isn’t right. He's just my best friend. He’s always been my best friend, you tried to remind yourself, but it was hard to focus on anything other than the way his body felt against yours. The beat of his heart, the warmth of his skin, the way he seemed so at ease with you...

You shifted slightly, trying to adjust without waking him. But Beomgyu stirred, his head moving against your chest, and then he murmured your name in his sleep. “Y/n…”

You froze again, your heart skipping a beat.

You glanced down at him, his messy blonde hair falling across his face, his features soft in sleep. For a second, you just stared at him, wondering if he could feel the same pull you felt. Could he?

You shifted slightly again, carefully, and Beomgyu's eyes fluttered open, barely. He blinked lazily, then mumbled, “Hmm? Are you okay?”

You tried to swallow the nervous lump in your throat, your mind still spinning. “Yeah,” you whispered, voice barely above a murmur. “Just... tired.”

He hummed in response, snuggling deeper into you, as if THIS was perfectly normal. “Good,” he whispered, then relaxed back into his position, his head resting on your chest again. You could feel his breath, slow and steady, against your skin.

“Are you sure you’re okay y/n? Your heartbeat is very fast..” he said with a concerned tone.

“Maybe... maybe I’m just... overthinking,” you said quickly, your voice was shaky.

He shifted, propping himself up on his elbow so he could look directly at you.

“Y/n… If you’re not okay, you know you can tell me, right?” His voice was gentle, filled with understanding.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Just… just tired, like I said.” You continued to lay straight on your back, staring at the ceiling.

Beomgyu didn’t seem entirely convinced, but he didn’t push any further. Instead, he just gave you a soft smile and laid back down. This time he laid closely next to you. His body turned to face yours. His fingers traced every strand of your hair.

"You're not usually this quiet," he said after a while, his voice softer now. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

“I… I don’t know,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I just don’t want to mess things up. I don’t want things to change between us."

“Y/n, nothing’s going to change,” he said quietly, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. His touch was light, gentle, but the way it made your skin tingle only made your heart beat harder. "You’re my best friend, and that’s never going to change. No matter what.”

“Are you sure?” you whispered, your voice barely audible, as if the slightest doubt would shatter the fragile moment between you. You turned your head to face him, your breath catching when his eyes met yours again.

Beomgyu smiled, his gaze gentle but filled with sincerity. "I’m sure," he said. "I’ll always be here, Y/n. Nothing’s going to change that."

But as you stared into his eyes, you couldn’t help but wonder… what if it already had?….

(a/n : my bad for not writing the last several months. I had a bf but he treated me like shit …🗿 butttt now I’m back fr 🌜 also sorry for mistakes I never reread ts after im done writing fr)

[drefear]

Hail to the King

Chapter 1: The Spider Man

Summary: Miguel O’Hara is the head of the biggest mafia family in Nueva York, scaring almost all of its citizens. Except you. And that’s exactly what he needs.

TW: smut, oral (m receiving) cursing, Miguel is a bit of a creep and a dick.

You stood outside the restaurant for a moment, staring at the dark night sky.

What just happened?!

Tears fill your eyes, threatening to spill over as you grind your teeth for a moment, practicing self control over your overwhelming upset and hurt. Was that even legal?

You sniffled and balled your fists. Fuck this guy, with his expensive looking suit and obvious God Complex.

You muttered obscenities as you walked home, not getting in the car and waiting like he ordered you to. Fucking ordered!

Two blocks down and you sighed, getting to the subway and finding a train to take you to your apartment, located in a less-than-safe part of Nueva York. But you didn’t care, you could take care of yourself.

Eyes tired from holding back your need to cry, you walked up a few flights of stairs to your floor, you convinced yourself it was good exercise. Twisting your key in the somewhat broken lock, you pushed into your doorway and slammed it shut behind you with the deadbolt.

That’s when the dam broke and the water works started. You’d gotten so lucky with such a great job, and now some power-drunk prick with a nice face ruined it without a solid reason.

He didn’t like you, so he decided to hire you? What backwards bullshit was that?

Not bothering to take your makeup off, you pulled off your clothing and slumped into bed with no plans of doing anything tomorrow morning. It was going to be a day to process and plan your next move.

Loud banging on your door made you fall out of bed, practically jumping out of your skin as the sudden thunderous sound was terrifying without warning. Grabbing your baseball bat from your coat closet, you tugged your hair into a messy bun and swung the door open.

“You’re late.” The big guy from last night? “And you apparently don’t answer your phone either.” His voice was unamused, blunt, and you didn’t care for it.

“How the fuck did you-“ you yelled, then remembering that apparently he was close to Peter, who had all of your information from hiring you. “You’re a sick fuck, now you’re stalking me?”

“Watch it, I’ll fire you.”

“I don’t wanna work for you, now leave!” You screamed and moved to slam the door, only to be stopped by a large hand holding it back. Miguel opened the door with a swift push and you stumbled backwards, caught off guard and off balance from his strength. It was like he was barely moving a cup, not even moving a muscle.

“I’ve decided that you’re going to work for me, and I always get what I want.” He spoke, stepping inside of your small apartment. “Now get dressed, so you can get to work.”

“Go fuck yourself.” You spit back at him with venom you didn’t know you hate. You hated him. “Go find some other girl to obsess over and creep out.” You continued and swung the bat, him catching the wood and staring down at you.

“Obey me and I’ll reward you generously.”

“I’m not your dog, I don’t need to ‘obey’ you!” You groaned out as you yanked the bat backwards.

“Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars a year plus bonuses when you complete certain tasks.” He spoke almost too fast.

The words passed by your ears in a blurt as white-hot rage filled your mind. The devil and angel on your shoulder fought and you didn’t know which one was fighting for what.

“Fine. Three hundred thousand a year. Bonuses, access to our facilities, a new phone, and an apartment on the west side.” He added.

“What the hell will I be doing? You don’t even know if I’m qualified, or if I’m a normal person. I could be a murderer.”

“That’s doubtful, as you couldn’t even hit me with a bat, and I’ve seen all I needed to. You’re most definitely qualified.” He answered, still offending you in a strange way. “Now get ready. I’m late because of you, and if I weren’t the boss, I’d rat you out.” He fixed his suit and sat in one of your dining chairs, the squeak of its legs making him scrunch his eyebrows in annoyance.

You huffed and moved, accepting that he wasn’t taking no for an answer. “I’ll call the cops.”

“That won’t work. La policía and I have an understanding.” It seemed like nothing was working and he knew it. “Are you done?”

Maybe if you played along for a bit, he’d get the idea and fuck off. Grumbling, you trudged into your bedroom.

“So what will I be doing?” You called to him as you went to your closet and pulled out a random blue dress shirt and black pants.

“You’ll be my right hand. Like an assistant but much more involved. You’ll work closely with my second, Lyla, and head operator, Jess.” He gave a full debriefing as you slipped on the clothes and moved towards the bathroom. “I’ll send a few of my men to help you move tonight, I don’t need you getting jumped out here in the slums.” He spoke with a certain disgust in his tone and you rolled your eyes.

“Your men? Second? Are we in a war or something?” You laughed, but he was quiet. No sense of humor, noted.

“Something like that.” His voice was lower, almost like it was a secret he didn’t want anyone around him to hear except you.

“Not that I care, but why me?” You brushed your teeth and waited for his answer, but nothing came. “Hello?”

“You’ll figure it out soon enough. Just know that I will not accept your refusal. You will work for me.” His speech was almost flattering, if he weren’t so infuriating. You dotted on some makeup and walked out to meet him. Slipping on a pair of low, black heels, he was already at the door. “Let’s go.” He nodded and opened your front door once more before walking ahead of you into the elevator. You hurried behind and almost missed the door as he stuck a hand through to stop them from closing. Your eyes didn’t meet him, avoiding having to thank him for such a small gesture of kindness after all the rudeness you’d endured. “And by the way, they call me Spider Man.” He said calmly as the doors shut and suddenly, your pounding blood was in your ears.

Spider man…?

As in… the most dangerous Mafia leader in Nueva York? The leader of the O’Hara family and the rumored Spider Society? A man infamous for murdering people with his bare hands, constructing some of the greatest hits on politicians and leaders all over the state?

Your body turned cold as you began to sweat. You were in the presence of a man known for being a brutal killer and a money-hungry demon who ruthlessly destroyed lives.

And he wanted you.

The trip to his headquarters was silent, sweating nervously as all of the rumors you’d heard about him came back to you. How he once almost killed a fifteen year old because he “ran out on a tab,” but luckily Peter paid it for the poor boy. Now, apparently, that same boy works for him. Peter told you the story on your first day, how some of the Spider Society frequented their restaurant, but it never occurred to you that this was him.

You remembered Gwen telling you over drinks after your first shift about how a lot of the staff of your restaurant had once been or still were low ranking members of the Society. You had said you just wanted to make your money and get on with your day, to which she laughed and said “that’s how I was too.” You left the conversation there and talked about other things, but now you couldn’t stop repeating her words over and over.

It was like the city was overrun by Spiders, all answering to the Spider Man himself. A man you were currently trapped in a moving vehicle with. A man you knew wouldn’t hesitate to kill you if you even so much as messed up his coffee order.

Nothing felt real as your leg bounced with anxiety. Sure, you’d always been mouthy and stubborn, but the idea that those small flaws could have made you a target for him, it was almost too much to understand.

“Hello?” He called out and you turned your face to him. “Are you listening?”

“Sorry, I was thinking about… what I have to pack tonight.” You lied, to which it was obvious he didn’t believe you, but he ignored it anyway.

“I was saying, when we get there, I have a meeting with a few of my subordinates. I need you to stay and listen. Lyla will be recording the meeting, but you just need hear it and start understanding everything. It won’t be hard, but it might be a lot so pay attention, entiendes?” He spoke and you nodded. “Once the meeting is over, I’ll introduce you to Jess and she’ll give you a tour of the building and your office. You’ll be working a room over from me. While that’s going on, I have an appointment, and once that’s over, I’ll start explaining the rest of your work.” His words felt unreal, like you were having an outer body experience. Nothing could have prepared you for this and now you were thrown into his web with no way out. Was the universe playing some sick joke on you? Throw you into the arms of a cold blooded killer and laugh about it later?

The numbness in your bones began to settle in and you sighed inwardly.

This was going to be a long day.

Walking into a bustling lobby, your eyes were overwhelmed with an excitement you couldn’t help to feel. The smell of clean air, the crisp modern design, everything screamed class and high end. Almost as if this wasn’t a den of crime and murder. Who would let a kingpin rent such a beautiful and upscale building? And didn’t mafia bosses usually do business out of their homes or secret offices hidden behind a bookshelf?

Ok, maybe you watched too many movies…

No, this was the next level of an efficiently run business. Everyone looked focused and intelligent, some seeming like they were educated at an Ivy League college or politically invested.

You followed the largest man and watched as everyone parted to make way for him, scanning him and then dropping their gaze to you.

You, who looked so out of place and childlike next to the refined crowd.

Your name broke you from your trance and you bumped into Miguel, who was no longer walking. “Stop looking around like a lost puppy. I hired you because of your fire and bite, now bring her back or I’ll toss you back out of here on your ass.” His threat was obvious, and you puffed up your chest after he turned around.

He was somewhat right. You belonged here, you got here by accident and that had to count for something. Other people around you seemed like they wanted to be here, strived for their positions and fought to climb up the latter. Meanwhile, you didn’t even want your position and you got it because of your loud mouth. As much as you hated this all, you knew that some of the roughest and cruelest human beings stood in this building, but he decided to pick you.

“But we will need to buy you new clothes if you’re going to work here. I don’t want to see you in anything less than a thousand dollars. Is that clear?” He said as you two walked into the elevator.

“And where am I getting these thousands of dollars from? You got me fired.” You grumbled, annoyed at his arrogance and assumptions.

“I’ll have Lyla put it as a tax write-off and give you a company card. Your limit is fifty thousand, and you’ll only shop at places from a list she’ll give you.” He stared straight ahead as he spoke, barely even seeming like he was speaking to you. What a dick. You rolled your eyes and he glanced downward, a brow quirked upwards. “And save that attitude for the meeting. Everyone here is cut-throat, and you’re here to give them a humbling piece of your mind. I don’t do politically correct-ness. If you think it, say it. The only person you need to answer to is me, and I want you to give some of these sons of bitches a good verbal beat down. If they get out of line, I’ll give them something to really be scared of, so don’t hold back.” His words seemed to hold weight as the elevator doors opened once more and people separated like the Red Sea to let him and you through. Catching up to walk by his side instead of behind him, you kept a straight face and put your shoulders back.

Reaching your new office was exhilarating, seeing as you hated the situation, but began hating everything less and less. Miguel had been right about the meeting, ignoring what everyone else said as you sat and listened to him discuss plans for a new import deal and a possible new business venture. His words were sharp and sliced through everyone in the room, so there wasn’t much room for conversation as most of the people in the room didn’t want to pull the trigger and be the target. You nodded along and made mental notes, adding certain ideas to your cavalry and deciding between when to speak up or not to.

After that, he’d introduced you to Jess and Lyla, who both seemed too kind and cheery to be in this business. How could such funny and smiley women work for a man with so much blood on his hands?

Jess gave you a proper tour as Lyla followed and made snarky comments about certain people, places, and things. Often times, they were about Mr. O’Hara and every time, it made Jess snort with laughter. The three of you talked and laughed, even trading phone numbers with both of them. Lyla excused herself when she was summoned to the fourth floor for a call about a transport, and you and Jess finished the tour back at your office. She showed you briefly how to use your new computer and tablet, both of which had a schedule that you, Lyla, and Mr. O’Hara could see and edit.

“Alright, I have a gynecologist appointment in 30 minutes, so I’ll be gone for the rest of the day, but call me if you have any questions.” She waved and you gave her a goodbye before beginning to type up some of those mental notes from the meeting, sharing them with Miguel’s email to add him in and let him look.

An hour went by and you heard a ding on your tablet, signaling a private meeting in Miguel’s office that had started 20 minutes ago. You rushed, seeing as you didn’t get the notification earlier and now we’re late. Pushing open his office door, you blinked at the sight in front of you and gulped down a new feeling. Dread. Embarrassment. Pure fucking confusion and unshakable mortification.

A woman, thin and blonde, had her back to the door and was kneeling before Miguel. Hands on his thighs as he spread his legs, she bobbed her head up and down as he had both of his arms around the expanse of the couch, head back a bit in enjoyment.

The shock finally settled into humiliation and you felt your stomach lurch with anxiety. He must have heard you step backwards as his eyes opened to stare into yours, an unreadable expression on his face. You shifted your thighs, moving to take another step as your face burned with a blush that could rival most makeup brands. Eyes as wide as saucers, you kept eye contact with him to avoid watching the woman’s mouth move up and down his cock. And he didn’t dare look away either.

He slipped a hand from the back of the couch to her hair and shoved her head down a bit, making her gag, and as the sound reached your ears, you choked a bit in sympathy. He hissed out a soft ‘good girl’ and you felt drool pool on your tongue, closing your mouth before it could drip out. He fucked up into her mouth as his eyes stayed on yours and before you could register it, he was groaning with a tight jaw and finishing. She sputtered as he came down her throat and as the realization of what you’d walked in on had hit you, you’d spun on your heels and slammed the door shut behind you.

Hands shaky, you wobbled back to your own office and sat in your chair, hands holding up your head as if it were too heavy to stay upright on its own.

What the fuck is going on?

Prologue Chapter 2

[misguidedasgardian]

Wild cats (Part X)

X. At the brink

MASTERLIST

Summary: You got a breather

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Zombie apocalypse AU, living dead, zombies, guts, blood, guns, injures, a bit of domesticity, dirty thoughts, bad thoughts about one-self (don’t know how to explain this, we get into Daryl’s head and he put himself down), descriptive words that are some sort of stereotype: “preppy girl”, “redneck”, “hick”, and some more. 

+18, MINORS DNI

Notes: Alright I know you liked to see what was in Daryl’s mind even for a bit… let’s shine a bit more light in it.

You had been at it for days.

Glenn was right, there wasn’t anything left on this world that wasn’t hidden, and that included canned food and supplies

You did not find a working car anywhere, even though you tried to fix some along the way, but still, most of the road, you did on foot, for long seven days you had been walking, north-east or so, going towards Richmond

You were not going to lie, you were hopeful, but some days, especially when the sugar levels were low in which you were impossible to deal with, you were angry, and mean, so those days you preferred to walk back, taking care of the group’s rear. You knew yourself, you knew how to control the demons, but right now… some were escaping you.

You started to question things, to think about how idiots they were being, thinking about that island and how good it must have been for you, so many resources and powdered margaritas you could find to have a drink…

The heat was overwhelming you too, dressed in your thick boots, and the lack of nutrients was taking a toll on you.

You felt terrible

But the mood in general was good, nobody had fought, yet, and they all seemed hopeful, so that was also helping.

You should have gone to that fucking island

You could have been sipping powdered margaritas with lake water on a boat by now…

But you shook your head, you gained nothing by thinking like this.

What was in Richmond anyways?

Nothing, not for you at least

Was it too late? to turn back? alone at least?

You had a bad feeling about this, something in your stomach. But perhaps it was just the hunger talking.

You had always been a person that got very “hangry”, angry when hungry, and today was showing clearly

Judging by the signs, you were about to cross to North Carolina, meaning you were closer to your destination

What if everybody died there?

What if you come across another group like Terminus? What if this time they succeed? 

And for what? 

You felt guilty instantly, Noah was a somewhat sweet kid

You just needed a break

“HEY!”, you all stopped to watch Daryl as he appeared through the woods, waving his arms

“Found somethin”, he said, and you all went with him. “A set of houses”, he told you. 

You all sprinted through the woods.

It wasn’t a big deal, they were similar to the ones you found Carl in, or rather, he found you.

They were miraculously untouched, or looked like it, just like those you found back then.

You divided naturally, you entered the second house there, ax in hand, ready for some walkers… you hit the door with it, and there came the stickers, one dropped from the second floor scandalously, and you killed it right where he dropped

You were going to go for the second one, but in a second a bolt bashed his skull

Daryl had entered the house right behind you

You shared looks, and nodded.

The first place you hit was the kitchen. And to your amazement, it had things, good things. You didn’t even ask, you opened a can of peaches in juice, and you moaned when you just grabbed the first one with a fork and stuffed it almost completely in your mouth 

Daryl watched you, almost entertained

“Fuck this is good, I swear, I’m a monster if I don’t get some sugar”, you said, offering the can to him once you had two

He grabbed it from you, smiled, and ate contently. You kept checking the kitchen, you found some good stuff… you even found some coffee. How long has it been since you drank coffee?

“I might get use to this”, you said, looking at the pantry with an assortment of things

“Ya should”, said Daryl, he stood right by your side, his arm bumping into yours

“Let’s keep checking”, you said with a soft smile

You went room by room, and found batteries, which was always helpful. You had grabbed a small radio from the safehouse in Atlanta, and you sometimes checked it, to see if there was something being said in it. So far, no luck, but still.

You found candles, which were always helpful, and a flashlight. In the bathroom came the real treat, you found toiletries, which were always coveted, and a deodorant.

You turned the water on, and to your amazement, water started pouring from the tap.

“OH!”, you said, almost crying in relief

“That’s somethin”

“We should check where this water is coming from first”, you said softly, “before we even think about drinking it, or washing ourselves with it”

“Fair”, he said

“It might be a contaminated well, a sealed tank, filled by a generator on a nearby river, or a underground water supply, that’s our best bet”

“You got it ma’am”, but he didn’t move, and you didn’t want him to, he had done so much, always taking care of the group, hunting, scavenging, you were convinced that he walked twice as the entire group, always making rounds around you.

“But you should rest first”, you said with a soft smile

“I actually might”, he said, checking the room behind him, he seemed contented

“Do so, and I will cook…”, you were interrupted when a door flung open, and then you heard footsteps going up the stairs, and Carol appeared.

She frowned, -as she used to do-, when she saw you both, just standing in the hallway, you felt as you were two little children and were caught doing something naughty

“Find anything?”, she asked

“Yeah”, muttered Daryl

“You should report it”, she should have left after saying that, but she just stood there, so you cleared your throat

“You should rest”, you said to Daryl, “I will check that thing we discussed”, he nodded, and you walked away from him, passing by Carol who just stood there.

This was awkward and weird

You found Rick, who was just coming out of the first house with Judith in his arms

“We found a bunch of rotten food in the fridge, the smell is vile, but we found some useful things too”, he said

“We found canned goodies and toiletries”, you informed him, “we also have running water, but I wanted to check out the source”

“Good job”, he said

“I’ll help you”, said Magie coming out of the house, “I know I thing or two about wells”

“Great!”, you said happily

It didn’t took you long enough to find it

“It’s filled with an aquifer”, she said with a wide smile, “WE GOT WATER!”, she said excitedly, “the only thing we need to do is to pump this thing a few times”, you were learning, you were actually learning, as Maggie walked you through the entire system that fed the houses with water, and it was incredible. So cool.

“So… what’s goin’ between you and Dixon?”, she asked teasingly 

“What?”, you asked, taken completely by surprise, “Nothin”

“I saw you both sneaking to the house”, she said

“We didn’t do it on purpose, I thought more people were following me”, you explained simply

“Ohh, come on!”, she teased, as she gave the first pumps with that rusty thing, “not a little something something?”, she teased

“I don’t see it”, you said simply, “I mean he is wildly handsome but… I don’t know he barely tolerates me, he thinks I’m some sort of burden”

“No he doesn’t”, you said

“How do you know? he as much as said it to me”, you explained

“If he truly thought you were some sort of baggage, he wouldn’t be so concerned for you all the time”, she said, “I think he really cares for you”

“It's mutual”, you conceded, “but I really think he only hangs around me to prevent myself from getting killed or something…”

“Well, last time i checked… that was caring”, she said, you loved her accent

“How about you and Glenn?”, you asked her, she looked back at you softly, “did you know each other before?”

“No, actually”, she said, “I lived on a farm with my family, and they showed up one day…”

“They?”, you asked

“Rick, Carol, Daryl, Glenn, and Carl”, she said

“Oh”, you said

“The farm get overrun a few months later”, she said sadly, “my dad, Beth and I made it out, we spend an entire winter scavenging, until we found the prison”

So you were right, Daryl went back far with Rick and Carol. All of them had forged a very strong bond, a bond of survival.

“Don’t be that grim”, Maggie teased, “He likes you”

“Yeah, he likes me… far away from him”, you mocked

“I don’t think that’s true”, she teased, you were actually a bit jealous. She and Glenn seemed so happy together, they were such a great, strong couple.

You felt lonely, alright? you were a human being

You started filling the well with underground water, and took turns to pump, at the end became some sort of competition that drew laughs from the both of you, and eventually, some of the group came out of the houses to see what’s going on, as you were on what would be the common yard in the back

The well was about to be overflowed because of your efforts, and Maggie and you ended up sweating, dropping to the grass 

“WE CALL THE FIRST SHOWER!”, you said to Rick, Carol, Glenn, Daryl, Carl, and those who showed up. You stood up so quickly it made you dizzy 

You started running towards the house to prove a point, and Maggie jokingly started trying to catch you and pushed “out of her way”

“Do ya understand what’s going on?”, Daryl asked Glenn, he shook his head, entertained.

The water felt heavenly, dropping on your dirty skin, you couldn’t remember the last time you showered. It was cold, but it was something. 

You felt guilty for that poor towel you used, it ended up very dirty.

But you didn’t care at the end, you were freaking clean, cold as fuck, but clean nonetheless. The apocalypse life was filled with little pleasures, this was one.

You took a second look at your filthy clothes, and almost hit yourself when you thought about the fact that you didn’t even check the house for more…

You came out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, you entered the master bedroom, you had seen pictures of the people that lived here, a middle age couple, with teenager kids, so you dove into the closet of the mother, the towel was a bit short, but you didn’t think there was nobody here so…

You heard something behind you, on the bed.

“What’ya doin?, you turned quickly to realize Daryl was looking at you. He had taken your advice, he had tried to sleep and you just sneaked in, almost naked, and he just woken up

“SHIT”, you cursed, trying to hug yourself, “I’M SORRY! didn’t see you there, I was trying to get some clothes”, he only grumbled something and turned around in the bed, to give you privacy, looking towards the wall, you grabbed a henley you found, and some jeans you’d think they fit and you went back to lock yourself in the bathroom on the hallway, completely petrified

. . .

He took deep breaths but nothing was helping him…

Were you trying to kill him?

First you are alone in that house, searching through the kitchen, sharing food, and now you waltz into the room he chose, the master bedroom, almost naked, wrapped in a towel, looking through the closet like it's yours… like it's your room, like you and him….

He groaned, when he felt his pant tighter, was he a fucking teenager?

This wasn’t a fucking fairytale, this isn’t an episode of desperate housewives apocalypse

You would never be interested in playing house, especially not with him. You were way younger than him, from what he knew, you had been here studying here in the states, a freaking master degree, he had barely finished high school. How could you be interested in him? You had a freaking cute accent, you knew more than one language, you…. you… you were not his type, no, he was not your type.

That is what he believed, that is what he knew.

Pretty girls like you don’t go for rednecks like him

If you were still in the old world, and you saw him walking towards you on the street, you would have changed sidewalks, you would have crossed to the other side of the street.

He had to understand that.

He still didn’t understand why he felt… things.. when he saw you. He had never felt anything like this, when he saw you coming his heart jumped on his chest, he felt nervous, and his hands got sweaty, he felt the need to care for you, to protect you, it didn’t help that you were so freakin’ clumsy, almost askin’ to be bitten by walkers… 

And that got him frustrated and being a freaking asshole to you, because he was… frustrated… he didn’t understand why you, of all the women he had ever met, got him feeling like this. 

But at the same time, the way you eliminated the dead was something of beauty, something Daryl had never seen before, you got good moves, and that only made him more of an idiot for you.

He groaned, turning into the pillow when he heard you walking about in the bathroom.

He knew you had come back to the house you both checked, he never imagined you would get out of the bathroom wearing only a little towel, he wasn’t a pervert, he had heard your advice, and he knew since you were in the house he could sleep for a while, relax. 

Now he wasn’t relaxed until he took care of that situation YOU provoked

Well…. rather that you provoked in him

He felt like a teenager, he couldn’t believe he was having this sort of problem in the damn apocalypse.

“I’ll let everybody know what we found so we can cook something”, you said softly, peeking through the open door

He only nodded, looking at you

“You want me to get you after?”, you asked softly

“Yeah, thanks”

Yeah, some privacy is exactly what he needs

Perhaps this… all of this, what exactly he needs

A similar though passed your mind

These little houses in the middle of nowhere, with a working water system… they seemed so heavenly you almost wanted to stay here forever.

@crazyunsexycool

[fictoculus]

౨ৎ they find you crying...

send a request!┊masterlist┊taglist applications

FEAT... venti, cyno, itto, tighnari

A/N... i just wanted to put in a little message to say how greatful i am for all the love and support! it genuinely brings a smile to my face reading what you guys write when you repost one of my works. also, please don't be shy and send me some requests! i want to make sure i'm making content that people will enjoy and am struggling to think of interesting concepts ♡

WARNINGS... references to low mental health (venti)

✧ venti.

♪ you'd been feeling low for a while now, spending your days alone at stormbearer point, losing yourself in you thoughts as you gaze absentmindedly at the scenery below you

♪ venti would be more than just concerned, though he may be completely oblivious at first; it takes him a while to notice how you're truly feeling

♪ when he does, he feels an ache in his heart, he scolds himself for not noticing sooner

♪ he's sure to shower you in gifts, whether they be big or small, and always make sure to spend quality time with you, refusing to leave until he sees that beautiful smile of yours

stormbearer point was... somewhat comforting. the soft, gentle breeze brushing against you as you dangle your feet off the edge, though you weren't swinging you legs in joy as you usually would. instead, they dangled freely off the edge, swaying only when the wind willed them to. contrary to the environment around you, your life for the past few weeks had been anything but pretty. it felt as if the flowers of your mind had wilted, leaving you with the shrivelled stems as you desperately buried them over and over, praying to the gods that some miracle would make them sprout once more.

your beloved, venti, had been completely oblivious to your state of mind, thanks to your ability to mask your emotions; though you'd hoped that, even then, he would've been able to see past your facade. only now, 3 weeks later, does he finally notice the dullness in your eyes as he gazes into them, holding your cheeks in his hands to stop you from turning away.

while you had been completely lost in your thoughts, he had seen you perched upon the edge, slowly lowering himself down to sit beside you and snaking an arm around your waist. his eyebrows furrow as he feels your body tremble against him, followed by shallow sobs and quiet sniffles; his heart shattered. how hadn't he noticed that you, the love of his life, hadn't truly been feeling the joy he had falsely seen in your broken smile?

from that point onwards, the bard made sure to keep his eye on you, watching you from afar as you spent time alone, making sure to take you to your favourite cafe atleast once a week. he'd also shower you in gifts, whether it be a dandelion he had found on his adventures, or a hat he'd bought from a merchant that he thought would compliment you perfectly (though he thinks you look simply stunning in anything and everything).

✧ cyno.

♪ cyno being cyno, he'd most likely tell you the "best" jokes he can think of, knowing they always make you smile (mostly for the wrong reasons...)

♪ as soon as he finds you huddled up in the corner, sobbing into your knees as you cradle them into your chest, he instantly questions you; wondering who would dare hurt his beloved, he is the general mahamatra after all...

♪ naturally, his immediate thought is to track down the perpatrator and administer judgement just like he would with any other criminal, but it comes to his realisation that this isn't just any old criminal, it's someone that had hurt you

life can be... overwhelming sometimes, something cyno knows well. yes, administering judgement does bring a sense of pride, but being face-to-face with so many wrong-doers can really be damaging. that's why his level of understanding is so deep, he can really empathise with what your feeling, though sometimes he struggles to comfort others.

so, when he finds you curled up in the corner, trembling as you pull your knees closer to your chest, he finds himself frozen to the spot.

"did they hear me come in? i don't think they did... how am i suppossed to announce myself without scaring them?"

he ends up making a fool of himself.

his first idea is to clear his throat, but because he didn't want to frighten you (worried that you'd jump and hit your head on the wall you were propped up against), his coughs ended up being far too quiet to overpower your sobs. his "back-up plan" was to simply walk over and hug you, placing a hand behind your head and pulling you into his chest, shushing every so often and rocking the two of you from side to side.

you sat their for a good 5 minutes, not saying a word to each other but basking in the comfortable silence. being wrapped in his arms alone is more than enough comfort; his warmth lulling you to sleep as your eyes flutter shut.

crying can take a lot of energy, and so it's only natural for you to dose off once the stress that's been bothering you all day finally leaves you in peace.

the general feels your head fall limp on his shoulder, your sniffling eventually silencing as you relax against him. gently, he lifts you up from the floor, carrying you to the bed and carefully setting you down before climbing in beside you.

"goodnight, my love, we'll talk about it tomorrow, ok?"

✧ itto.

♪ itto is very energetic, and thrilled at the idea of adventure (and beetles). so, when he hears you sniffling behind the door of your shared bedroom, he assumes you've come down with a cold and bursts into the room with boxes upon boxes of tissues and cold medicine

♪ only when he sees your face wet with tears does he realise, you're crying

♪ call him overdramatic, but he literally drops everything and rushes over to you, tackling you backwards onto the bed and squeezing the sadness out of you

"3... 2... 1..."

with a loud thud, your shared bedroom door is flung open and an eager oni jumps through, arms full of sickness necessities (including a mountain of snacks to fulfill any and all possible cravings).

"[name]! i heard you sniffling soooo... i brought tissues and cold medicine and chocolate and- babe?"

your scans your face, staring at you longingly until he finally catches your eyes, red and puffy. you can see the way his heart shattered just by the way he looks at you; a small, almost unnoticeable, crease between his eyebrows expressing his concern.

"c'mere..."

despite asking you to hug him, he charges right at you, the shock briefly stopping your tears as his tackles you backwards and onto the bed. as soon as he's comfortably ontop of you, he kisses your face all over, slightly rougher on your cheeks but feather-light on your eyelids, which were squeezed shut. satisfied, he gives you one final kiss on the lips before burying his face in the crook of your neck and hugging you tight; as if he was trying to squeeze the sadness out of you.

"what's got you all upset, hm? wanna talk about it?"

and so you talk, explaining how everything had gone wrong that day, impersonating the vendor you had "argued" with as itto listens carefully, refraining himself from interrupting you no matter how tempting it may be. only once you had finished does he share his input, reassuring you that you weren't in the wrong and practically yelling in frustration at how unprofessional and rude the vendor had been.

he even offered to cook for the two of you, though you ended up ordering becaue this man cannot cook to save his life. that's ok though, it's the thought that counts.

✧ tighnari.

♪ tighnari, being a forest ranger, is not often home during the day, meaning collei would be the one to find you crying

♪ she would rush off to find tighnari almost immediately, who, conventiantly, is only a minutes walk outside gandharva ville, observing the wellbeing of the flora and fauna of sumeru

♪ the two of them would come running within minutes, tighnari panting as he bursts into your shared home with look of pure worry plastered onto his face

♪ simply talking with eachother provided you with more than enough comfort, hence why the two of you spent hours just talking, snuggled up close under the cover and discussing whatever came to mind

you try your best to muffle your sobs, hands clasping over your mouth as you squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to stop the tears from falling. tighnari wasn't home, and the last thing you'd want is for collei to hear you (since you're a somewhat parental figure to her).

however, things don't always go to plan.

as if fate itself was against you, a rhythmic knock echoes throughout yours and tighnari's shared home, one you know far too well. you curse under your breath, rubbing your face down messily with your hands before scrambling to the door. you take a deep breath before pulling it open, greeting collei with a warm smile, like you always do. you do everything in your power to keep your composure, to stop your voice from wavering as you spoke, but your attempts were proven futile.

"[name]? a- are you doing ok? your eyes are all red..."

that was all it took for you to break down.

poor collei is strucken with pure panic; she has never seen you like this before and genuinely doesn't know how to help you. there's only one solution she can come up with: tighnari.

before you could even attempt to mutter an apology, the greenette is practically sprinting towards the forest, yelling over her shoulder:

"i'll be right back!"

tighnari, thankfully, was only a couple minute's walk outside of gandharva ville, studying the wellbeing of the sumeru's flora and fauna. attatched to his satchel is a small drawstring pouch, where he collects fallen petals or damaged flowers, later drying or pressing them and gifting them to you as a substitute for the traditional bouquet.

"collei?"

his ears perk up at the sound of collei barging past the dense bushes and shrubbery, only to immediately drop down as collei explains how you'd burst into tears, panting heavily from the long run.

without hesitation, the ranger messily packs his belongings before sprinting in the village's direction, wasting no time before bursting through the front door and throwing himself onto you, enveloping you in his comforting warmth. the two of you would just stand in the doorway for a few minutes, holding onto eachother tightly. you gripped onto the back of his shirt as if he was your lifeline. in a way, he was.

"i'm so sorry i wasn't here, sweetheart. next time this happens, you come find me, ok?"

he peppers you with kisses, mainly on your forehead and nose, eventually dragging you to the bedroom where the two of you cuddle until the sun sets, not wanting to fall asleep but instead just talk about anything and everything.

"we only need to talk about it if you want to, okay? i love you, [name], i will always be here"

thanks for reading ♡ want to read more? would you like a part II? let me know! my requests are OPEN, so please feel free to let me know what you'd like me to write next!

© FICTOCULUS 2023; please do not steal, translate, or repost my works as your own

[kraro-school-life]

✦ 17. 11. 24 ✦ 📓 ✦ Sunday ✦

Yesterday I legit sat the whole day and worked on my art assignment. And I loved it. I had to finish it this morning but I am so proud of it!! It´s a comic about me on our art class Venice trip (that was kinda the task).

But today... I have to say, my blog name is not made up and actually spot on. Because HOW did I manage to start and finish my philosophy homework the last minutes I planned for studying today??? I do is subconciously, it´s crazy! It makes me not want to try and change, because why fix something that works?? But I really should...

Oh, and reminder to everyone who needs it (after me): Wash your hair. The world will not feel like it´s falling apart after you have clean hair. trust.

Okay so now a longer update about school in general (Studying, exams, routine, etc.):

I love studying so much. I actually love to learn new shit and RIGHT NOW I am even excited about exam prep. I am aware, that it´s because I haven´t yet started, but I will from tomorrow on. Now I don´t have any test coming up soon, so I don´t have excuses anymore. I somewhat got a plan of what I need to do and decided that I will change my method slightly. But more about that later.

Now, for that to work I have a few challenges I need to overcome. I even had some today that I indetified:

-> mindless screen time: Even right now! Even right now I am twitching for my phone. Why? Simple - to procrastinate. Because I don´t have a problem with watching content I actually want to watch (Rip Mumbo in wild life yesterday). I more so feel like it has become a habit to scroll just to pass the time. Which is not optimal. I lose time, but I also just feel like shit afterwards. Lose lose situation. Ugh. How do I not do that?

have all kinds of tasks to do: big middle and small to choose instead of being overwhelmed with the big ones and scrolling instead.

just lay on the ground. Just lie down and after a moment you will be ready again, intead of entering the famous hole of the rabbit (that was supposed to be funny, it wasn´t)

Just plan more and make yourself deadlines.

Have a reminder that says all of this.

If anyone has read this far which i doubt, and has useful tips, pls tell me! Asks are always open <3

-> tiredness: planning will help with that so that my tasks will be sorted accordingly (I do sleep enough).

-> routine: I tried so may times already, but it will not stop me from trying again. I will do it :) (well..)

I probably have more to say but I need to go to sleep now. Goodnight!!

[tino-i-guess]

Need some opinions/help

TLDR; In October, in a somewhat impulsive decision, I started worshipping Athena and Hermes. I am having doubts and feelings of inadequacy due to not being as invested as some other people. Does all of this mean I should leave the religion or stop for the time being?

I am quite new to hellenic polytheism. I've always had an interest in polytheistic religions, occasionally doing some research but never really doing it heavily. I knew the very very basics of hellenic polytheism, since a friend of mine practices. In the beginning of October, I had a slight breakdown. I have been struggling with school a lot and was feeling completely lost and abandoned by most people in my life, so I did what looking back on it was a rush decision. I made an altar for Athena and prayed (more like begged, I'll be honest) for some kind of help. I made a small offering based on what I knew and that was that. It wasn't a completely unexpected decision, since I had been thinking about it for a while.

Well, it worked. I did quite well on my upcoming test and felt calmer in general. I decided to make a small altar for Hermes too and do more research. For the past few months, I have thus been trying to do as much research as I can, pray and make offerings based on what I know the best I can. However, recently I've been having some doubts.

I feel out of my depth and overwhelmed. I've never been religious, nor has my family ever been religious. Every time I try to research more, I feel overwhelmed and tear up with all the new facts and seeming rules. Things are contradicting each other and I have no one to check with because my friend is also pretty new and we're not very close. I feel as if I'm constantly messing up. A lot of the practices relies on instinct and reading between the lines. I have anxiety and I'm autistic so these two places are my weaknesses, in some cases even impossible for me without direct guidance. I'm confused on so many concepts that everybody else seems to find obvious.

I feel inadequate. Everybody I have seen talking about the religion seems really fully into it and devoted to it (something that I think is amazing and wonderful) but I feel like that cannot be applied to me. I feel like I somehow don't believe/love the Gods as much as others. I don't want religion to take up a big part of my life, at least not as I am currently. Additionally, I don't have much free time or energy in general, so I am not able to make offerings and pray properly every day. I also struggle with intrusive thoughts, which makes prayer and worship extra hard. However, I do love the Gods and the thought of taking down their altars and just stopping makes my heart squeeze. But then again, I don't feel as close to them as a lot of people I have seen, tho that might be a time issue. Part of me is definitely stopping me from getting closer to them by constantly saying how ridiculous I look trying to 'bond' with them. I want religion to be a casual facet of my life, to be able to make a weekly offering and pray once a day maybe without much worry or anxiety, to learn about the religion and Gods more and more.

I feel upset and stressed about this whole situation. I don't want to stop but part of me feels like I am being constantly disrespectful. A small part of me also feels like I have somehow offended Athena specifically. I also am hesitating stepping back, lest I upset kharis, if somehow I've managed to establish it with my flaky track record. I want honest, hard opinions and advice. Am I simply not cut out for this? Is this just a beginners rut sort of deal I need to power through? Did anybody else feel like this? How did you deal with it?

I am sorry if anything is unclear. Writing this made me quite emotional and my thoughts are all over the place. If I haven't mentioned a crucial detail or something, please ask and I'll happily respond and give more details on some things. Thank you in advance, χαίρε.

[vesanal]

ʚɞ  ~Blog Introduction Post~ ʚɞ  

Howdy there!! Ok. So. It’s been long enough. Probably should have done this earlier but here it is now!

Anyways, hello! You can call me Ves/Vesanal or some variant of that! I love to write and do art because I like to suffer creatively twice. I am getting back into writing after a while and I will be using this blog to share my works as they come along!! I have some projects I’m working on that I am very excited to share with y’all!! 

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

→Quick Links:

Side Account!

Ask stuff here!!

Writemas Masterlist!!

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

→Here is some info about me:

I love love love making art and writing. Those are two of my greatest passions in life

Pronouns are She/Her

Plotter by heart, I cannot call a story finished if I do not know every minute detail. Quite overwhelming at times but I get by!

I am a stressed out college student who probably shouldn't be scrolling tumblr all day long but here I am. 

Computer Science/Math Major, I couldn’t decide on which subject to drain my soul from so I picked both. If I am a bit inactive at times it is due to this 

Love to yap and listen to certified yappers about fandoms and OC’s. Infodump about WIPs to me!!! I will gladly listen!!

Proud lesbian, and yes the lgbt girl in CS stereotype is alive and true. If you have a problem with this you are on the wrong website friend

Some of my favorite genres are Fantasy, Sci-Fi, and Drama. Gotta love TV shows and movies to absolutely nerd out over :D

The type of music I like is all over the place but mostly I stick to hard rock, heavy metal, and thrash metal (I would be more than happy to tell y'all about the bands and like and even recommend some)

My MBTI personality type is INTP-T

I am a complete Tumblr NOOB. Please bear with me here while i try to figure out the hellsite <3

My time zone is CST/CT (Central Time)

You can DM me anytime. Along with asks too, but please do not send me any promotions or begs for money. PLEASE. I have gotten a few of those recently and I just want to say that is not what my blog is for. Other than that, asks are completely open! If you have a question, please ask me!!! :) <3

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

→Some of the wips of mine:

(There will be separate intro/masterposts for each of these when i get to them

The Bone-Binder’s Covenant 

(click link to see masterpost)

Basic Premise: The Bone-Binder has broken his promise with the land of Pytharios, and is now terrorizing the region to get what he wants. Chosen directly by the Queen, Aerlyra Ghorne–a promising yet incredibly unsure woman–is tasked to stop him for once and for all. With the help of her assigned crew and companions who join alongside her during the journey, she hopes to do just that. 

Tags: #The Bone-Binder’s Covenant or #TBBC

Genre: Dark Fantasy; Adventure

Status: Active (Somewhat done and planned, still getting a feel for everything, still brainstorming some ideas)

I will be adding more links as I post!!

We Die As One

(Adding masterpost soon)

Basic Premise: Tells the story from a series of ancient journals that are uncovered showing the events following up the total wipeout of all magic. The journal entries focus on a group of scrappy, young heroes who are on a mission against the world, and fail to stop the evils of the world from taking over. All that is left of them is the journals, leaving the ways of the past to be seen as a distant memory and an inspiration to the new generation, who see how the world came to what it has become.

Tags: #We Die As One or #WDAO

Genre: High Fantasy; Action-Adventure

Status: Active (ish, still in idea-phase)

I will be adding more links as I post!!

I still have more WIPS but those are secrets for later ;)

I’ll be posting mainly about my wips, ask games, the occasional art, and writing memes so stay if you are into that!! You can ask me questions any time, don’t be afraid to ask!

[balrogballs]

A bittersweet little Glorfindel & Elrond friendship story for you this Monday 🥰

The Worst Horse in Imladris

Celebrían’s very favourite horse was a small grey filly with an unmanageable mane and pure hatred in her eyes. It was neither abused nor traumatised, runty nor powerful. It was just a somewhat shit horse, but she adored it regardless.

The only one she would trust to look after her in her absence was Glorfindel, and so it was him — curator of bites and acceptor of kicks — who found it groaning with colic and thought well, about damn time. Colic was often fatal in horses; and this one was 29 years old, having outlived its mistress by 17.

He mentioned it to Elrond, who had neither a great love for horses nor particular patience for this rather awful specimen, and so was surprised when the lord rushed with him into the stables and began walking it to and fro, a stopgap for colic, and hastily bid Glorfindel to bring in the stable master.

“Elrond, she’s very old — there won’t be much he can do.”

“Do as you’re told,” Elrond snapped, pulling rank uncharacteristically.

He spent the night walking the horse in ten-minute bursts, refusing to sleep nor listen to the stablemaster’s protests that it was not worth working on a horse certain to die in the next few months regardless, and that this particular horse was both rather useless and tended to be somewhat aggressive in its reaction to treatment.

Five hours in, both Glorfindel and the stablemaster gave up, looking at each other in confusion. Elves are immortal, animals are not. This was a lesson learned by most elflings, one drilled into them for good by the time most were waist-high. Still, Elrond kept walking it to and fro repeatedly, a frantic cadence to his footsteps.

It was only when the next day dawned and Erestor almost bodily dragged him to council, that Elrond left the horse’s side, firmly instructing Glorfindel and the stablemaster to keep walking it. But when Glorfindel returned from a quick bath, the stablemaster was looking up at him from the floor, shrugging.

“It was about time,” he said, and then grimaced at his bleeding wrist. “Got a last good bite in too.”

Glorfindel nodded. “All right then, get it out of here before the lord gets back.”

“Certainly, but where are you off to?”

“The cavalry stables,” he said shortly, and refused to explain himself. And when Elrond returned after council to check on the creature, he found a remarkable grey warhorse in its place, a proud Rhûn stallion with utter obedience glittering in its clear eyes.

“What is this?” he asked, frowning.

“Asfaloth,” shrugged Glorfindel, looking at Elrond as if he were mad. “That awful beast. She got better.”

Elrond raised his eyebrows, blinked, and looked at his captain for a very long time.

“Is that so?” was all he said, a small smile playing at the very edge of his lips. He nodded, looking rather overwhelmed, and departed quietly. Glorfindel sighed, resigning himself to five hundred years and eighteen generations of identical grey warhorses.

As Elrond’s engagements with loss went, this horse would have only been a quiet, lukewarm loss. Only the closest would have even noticed any impact on him. After all, mortality lingered in Elrond’s life like an old friend, recurring like ice-crusted winter and the bloom of spring, woven into the very fabric of half-elvenness, too familiar to be questioned.

The day the worst horse in Imladris died of colic was like any other day. It would change nothing, and death would continue to slip in and out of view of Imladris as always. Elves are immortal, animals are not. Except for Asfaloth. Asfaloth never dies.