#some of them even remove the item- and then put it back by the time we come around for second rounds 💀

[sockatoothewafflebird]

okay so i found this s1 and s2 intro comparison video and i'm going feral about it. i have a lot to say. i think the intro poses some very important theories and ideas and i'd like to post my take about it. this is about arcane btw

i made a comment about this on the video itself but there's a lot more i wanted to say. in short, the comment said:

season one's intro focuses on the surface-level ideas of the characters. each one is either decked out in their gear or holding their weapons, or whatever things make them who they are. i think it's super cool for that, but season two's focuses solely on lighting and the characters themselves.

as another post mentioned, all of the characters are in very generic clothing, with nothing but them to observe. no gear, no weapons, no items, other than viktor holding his mask (the same way he held the book last season mind you) and the medardas with the rose. they're going to be stripped bare in this season.

the lighting is made so it highlights their faces, their posture, their body language. we're not looking at characters in a show anymore. we're looking at people.

that's the big main idea of all of this, but there's a lot more to talk about, so i'll put the rest under the cut so nonone has to scroll for hours to get past this post if they don't want to read everything. and there are a heap of season two spoilers under the cut as well, just beware.

anyway, we start out the intro with vi. let's take a really close look at this because holy shit.

we start with her sitting there, in nothing but a tank top (and i think not even a bra lmao) and she brings her hand to her face and smudges her tattoo. the tattoo with her name on it. the tattoo that helped maddie nolan recognize her.

and then the pink strip of light HIGHLIGHTS IT. that's her name, that's who she is, and she smudged it. it's probably a tattoo so the smudge in the intro is lore symbolic than anything, unless you can just easily remove tattoos in the league of legends universe. but anyway, yeah, she's having an identity crisis. she doesn't know who she is anymore.

next, we have jinx. parallel to last season's intro vi and jinx are back to back. but in this season they're sitting down. while vi is sitting, contemplative, her sister stands up and shoots.

i think comparing this with s1 is very important. in s1 vi and powder are a carving, cut from the same stone. and there they are in season two, now their own people, now walking away from one another. it's a very clever way to present their dynamic in my opinion.

it's important to point out that vi sits down and the light illuminates her smudged tattoo, while when jinx stands and shoots the light highlights her eye. i'm not sure what to make of it but it's interesting.

let's move on to ekko!

so, when it switches to him, we can see him standing alone in an empty room, the light making it so he has two shadows. they move bit by bit, like the hands of a clock.

i think that's a really cool detail because, for those who don't know much about league of legends, ekko's ability in the game is time-related. what it means for his arc in s2 i'm not quite certain on, but i have a really big theory i'll talk about in another post soon.

on to the next bit, viktor! unfortunately there's a 10-image limit on mobile and i dont have a computer right now so i'll continue this in another post. also i don't want this to be pages and pages long... so stay tuned cause ive got a lot of shit to say lmao.

made a new blog tag, just search arcane intro analysis in my blog and you'll find all posts relating to arcane's intro. more to come!!!

[basslinegrave]

checked line play notices and saw its actually closing in february within EU :( i still think i would be able to get in somehow (maybe vpn) but i guess that will be it? its so weird now how theyre giving out stuff and putting up all past gachas when its not even worth getting stuff anymore. as for the new ones i believe those were planned so they will roll out new ones until the end... but it just feels sad seeing the stuff.. why give me so many free tickets when it doesnt matter in 2 weeks

[corvids-corner]

Getting all comfy cosy in my pjs with full knowledge someone could call me at any time tonight at force me to get dressed and go let them into their room

[lumibuns-blog]

Simon Riley x reader

Idk what to call this but I made a fic where Simon "Ghost" Riley falls for Johnny's female roomie cuz it's been clanking around in my head for days. Also now I can finally use the time I've spent in the UK having to listen to stupid slang and banter to use💪

Also reader is a girl that's like a main plot point👍Okay enjoy!

"Ya sure this is okay mate?" Kyle asked, slightly apprehensive as he entered the apartment

"'Course it's okay!" Johnny beamed, closing the door behind them "asked 'em 'forehand anyway"

Simon just grunted and started to remove his boots. The boys had a week off from being stationed at base and though most would use this time to go home and visit family, that option wasn't really in the cards for the three.

Kyle's family had gone on vacation, he had grumbled something about "lef' me 'ta holiday in the tropics". And Simon...well his family situation was...something, so Johnny had very graciously offered to host them at his apartment for the week. Just one problem, he had forgotten to let his friends know the roommate he lived with was a girl. Not only that, but he hadn't actually checked to see if you read his last minute message. Not that he had actually had the foresight to ask if you were okay with 2 men you had never met sleeping in your apartment for a week. He texted something along the lines of "omw back" quickly followed by "bringing the boys with"

You had been napping and hadn't seen his text, and you were too groggy as you woke up and shuffled to get dressed to even notice the sounds of footsteps in the front room.

"Just set ya shite by the couch 'fer now" Johnny commented as he walked into the open kitchen

Simon took a moment to scan over the apartment. There were the obvious signs of Johnny's presence scattered all around the room. A couple of empty chip bags, an X-box with the wires of the controller's tangled into one big mess, his army green sweatshirt draped over the back of the couch, his preferred brand of cereal stood haphazardly on the counter, even those stupid Crocs he bought a year ago were by the front door. But something felt off, he knew his friend lived with a roommate but there was something strange about the other items in the flat he couldn't put his finger on.

A hairbrush was set on the coffee table, the cups that he caught a glimpse of as Johnny opened the cupboard seemed a little too nice, a small tube of hand lotion was set on the counter, and a pair of shoes that seemed a little too small and a little too clean were (unlike Johnny's) placed on the Ikea shoe rack by the door.

Kyle's voice suddenly broke him from his thoughts, "thought ya 'ad a roommate soap? Where they at?"

"They're 'ere" Johnny chimed, closing the fridge door with his hip and pouring himself some juice "probably just in 'they room" he took one sip from the glass "hold on lads let me get 'em"

He rounded the corner into the small hallway and disappeared from Simon and Kyle's line of sight. Kyle looked over to the blonde, who had (for once) forgone his usual balaclava in favor of a simple black face mask, Simon just shrugged.

They heard the turning of a doorknob at the end of the hallway, the hinges squeaking as it began to open.

"Aye come out 'ere a sec-"

A high pitched, startled noise could be heard before..."JOHNNY WHAT THE FUCK MAN GET OUT!" your voice rang through the apartment clear as day.

Simon and Kyle's head's whipped around to face each other, suddenly all the pieces fell into place in Simon's head. Johnny's roommate was a chick.

"Sweet Jesus! Sorry lass didnae know ya were 'gon tae changin' in 'ere" Johnny blurted out apologetically.

"YEAH THATS WHY YOU KNOCK FIRST DUMBASS!" you continued to berate him as he stood in the door way with his hand covering eyes.

"Well how the 'ell was I 'sposed know what'chu was doin' in 'ere?" he fought back

"MAYBE BY NOT BARGING IN HERE OUT OF NOWHERE?!" Your voice strained with frustration and embarrassment

There was a brief moment of silence before-

"WHY THE HELL ARE YOU STILL STANDING HERE? GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY ROOM!" A small thud could be heard as one of your shirts collided with the side of his head.

"Okay, okay I'm goin'!" he closed the door "creepin' Jesus..." he sighed

He slowly rounded the corner back into the kitchen, holding your oversized T-shirt in one of his hands. He looked up to see the gobsmacked faces of his two friends

"Wot?"

"Could've at least told us 'yer rooming with a girl" Kyle muttered, looking sheepishly towards the tile floor

"Thought I mentioned that?" Johnny said plainly

"Well, ya didn't" Simon grumbled, pausing a moment before continuing "she certainly seems...spirited"

"Nah 'hat's nothin', you should see 'er when I eat 'er scraps" he smirked "just 'bout killed me last time"

Simon couldn't help but notice the glass Johnny had poured earlier, it seemed to be some sort of fruit juice cocktail, something his friend probably wouldn't have bought for himself...

"Well-" Johnny swung his arm out dramatically as he attempted to fill the silence. Yet in that moment, the bra that, unbeknownst to you, had been tucked within the shirt he was now holding, flew to the floor.

"Shit-" Johnny went to quickly pick it up as his two friends respectfully averted their gaze from your undergarments.

"Wait..." Johnny paused to look up at the both of them "is it weird fer me to go grabbin' at it?" He asked in full honesty

Disappointed looks are what greeted him,

"Mate-"

"Bruv..."

They heard your door open suddenly and all embarrassment was forgotten as your roommate quickly picked up the bra and folded it back into the shirt before setting it on the counter

"Seriously man what were you thinking? Going to have to get a lock if you keep this up. Anyway what were you-" you stopped as you rounded the corner to find not only your roommate, but two other large men in your living area.

"Oh!" You started "Hey..." you trailed off apprehensively

Simon and Kyle both got their first proper look at you. A tight tank top clung to your figure and loose sweatpants hung from your hips, your hair haphazardly tied up with strands poking out in every direction. It then became clear to them at that moment you had not been expecting any company.

Kyle cleared his throat, ready to introduce himself, but his friend beat him to it

"These are the lads 've told ya about" Johnny began with a boyish grin, gesturing widely to his two friends, as if he was showing them off.

"From work?" you questioned

"Yup"

You then looked back to the two men in question and they both instinctively stood up a bit straighter "Ghost and...Gaz? Right?" you asked, pointing from one to the other, tilting you head in a way that was undeniably adorable to all three of them.

"'hat's us" Kyle responded brightly "Soap 'as talked 'bout you but I never caught ya name"

You gave it to them with no hesitation, before turning to Johnny "soap?" You teased, cocking one eyebrow

"It's ma' call sign lass, didnae be makin' fun of it now" he shook his finger in your face

"Yeah sure it is" you brushed him off before your eyes met the cup on the counter, you slowly turned back to him,

"What did I say about drinking my shit?!" You questioned with an accusatory tone.

"Is' just a glass" Johnny whined

You delivered a a harsh slap to his bicep "if you're going to be drinking it tell me so I can buy more, I'm tired of runnin' to the store every other day" you sighed

You moved through the kitchen closer to Simon and Kyle, opening the fridge and scanning its contents before turning to the both of them "I'll be going out, you two want anything?" You asked

They both just looked at you completely speechless and slightly confused.

"What? I assume you are probably going to be staying this week while that idiot" you gestured with your thumb to Johnny "has time off, so ya want anything from the store?" Your intuition had to be applauded.

"No we're jus' fine" Simon finally spoke. His deep voice, though not shocking, still made your hair stand on end.

"Alright then" you clapped your hands and maneuvered yourself through the small space in between the two men, a shiver ran down their spine as your front and back brushed against each of their sides, respectively

"I'm going to the gym then I'll hit the store on the way back" you say over your shoulder, grabbing your shoes "you need anything Mactavish?"

"Get some-"

"-More of the juice and the butterscotch crisps?" You finished his sentence for him and he waved his hand dismissively "you're so predictable" you murmur, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips

Simon watched as the Johnny's mouth began to form a smile of his own "I 'ave to do the washing, you got any thing ya need cleaned?" He threw back

"Lights or colors?"

"Lights"

"Then wash that shirt I threw at you"

The wicked smile now fully formed on Johnny's face as his friends watched on in surprise and burning embarrassment.

"What 'bout this 'ere?" Johnny teased, now holding your light blue bra up for everyone to see, pinching one of the straps as if it were contaminated

"What are you-" Simon and Kyle watched the confused expression on your face turn into horror then very quickly into undeniable anger

You stormed back across the flat and snatched you bra from his hand "John Mactavish you disgusting little prick" you growled "I am going to kill you one of these days and let me promise you, it will be slow" you leaned over him and pointed a finger in this face, your hight difference forcing him to bend over backwards slightly.

You threw your bra back in your room and quickly stomped back to the door "I'll be back in a couple hours" you called over your shoulder "do me a favor and kick his shit in while I'm gone eh?" You smiled towards Simon and Kyle before shutting the door behind you.

A moment of silence fell over the three,

"So how long has she been 'aving to put up wit' yer ass?" Simon asked plainly

"Little over a year now...-- oye? Whatchu mean 'put up wit' me' I'm a delight to live with"

"Clearly" Kyle rolled his eyes

"Too bad she's got such an attitude" Johnny sighed "she'd be a bonnie lass if she quit yellin' all the damn time"

"I'm sure you give her plenty of reasons to" Kyle groaned and Simon just nodded in agreement

"Ay haud yer wheesht" Johnny bit back "'member who's puttin' you lads up for a week"

The banter continued but Simon could agree with his friend on at least one point, you were bloody stunning. He just couldn't get the quizzical look you had given him out of his head, nor the way you had said his call sign so plainly. 'What had soap told you 'bout him?' He really couldn't help but wonder, wonder and pray it was the good stuff. Though knowing soap, it probably wasn't. His call sign had sounded so sweet when it came from your lips, he needed to know how it would sound when you called him by his given name. What sort of faces would you make if he poked fun at you like soap did? what if he were to be sweet to you? Did you cook? If so he needed to taste it immediately. What kind of expression would you make when you're all relaxed? How would it feel to take those pouty, pursed lips against his own and-

'Nope nope nope', Simon physically shook the thought from his head, taking a deep breath to clear his mind. You were his friends roommate and who he would be living with for a week, he had to be respectful.

"You good mate?" Gaz asked

"Fine" he replied flatly

He couldn't really understand why but he wanted you to get home from whatever you were doing immediately, it was like a burning fire had suddenly started inside him and it could only be dowsed by seeing you and having you close to him.

Johnny knew that look in his Lieutenant's eyes, recognizing the faint emotion they betrayed

'Damn smitten bastard' Johnny huffed before showing them where they would be sleeping.

Uhhh I probably will make more for this soon so stick around<3

@yumethefrostypanda for the visual I used🫶

[alyssa-the-witch]

Offerings and their Removal

Disclosure, this may not apply to everyone! Cherry pick it if that works for you, or take none at all. Just no hate or arguments in the comments!

Definition- Offering - Something given to an entity or deity to show appreciation. This can also be something done or said to show appreciation.

~~~~~Types of Offerings~~~~~

Food- In ancient tradition, specifically Greek, the first bites of food were thrown into the fire to be sent through the gods by smoke. However, this isn't an option for many people these days. Alternative methods are favored.

Fire - The old methods are still applicable if available. If one has a bon fire or fire-place/hearth, the first bite of food can still be "smoked" , per-say.

Prayer - A small prayer can be said over food before the first bite is taken. Just a simple "Entity/spirit, please accept this offering, Blessed Be" or something similar can suffice. This, for some deities like Hestia can be done at the end too. This is more convenient for a hidden practice and for those who can't afford to waste food.

Altar- If you have an altar, or ever a small bowl, they can place the first bite of food there for the deity entity too.

Objects and Trinkets- Just like us, deities/entities love little trinkets. Whether it be a few coins you find nice to a statue or an engraved candle. Whatever it my be, it can be given to an entity with a prayer and/or on an altar in their honor.

Removables - There are some things that can be placed on altar and taken off. I like to call them removables. When placed on an altar, one could say "Entity/Deity, bless this object, with your energy and blessings." let it sit for a moment or cleanse with incense. If a clothing item, accessory, or perfume, you can take it off and use/wear it. Just remember to put it back to refresh the energy and discuss before taking it off for the first time.

Actions - There are also things that one can do in offer of a deity or entity. They can be small things, like prayers, to full-on rituals.

Prayer- This is probably the easiest in my opinion. It can be a small "Hey entity/deity, I appreciate you." on the go, or reciting a hymn or a prayer by the altar. It's incredibly diverse and can meld to any practice.

Chores - This can apply more to some deities than others, but just Keeping your room and house tidy can be done in honor of a deity. Altars specifically can be cleaned or re-arranged as an offering

Art-In ancient times, arts of every kind were offered to deities ant spirits. And it can fit most anyone's style.

Music- written specifically or just a song you think reminds you of them. Drawings/Paintings- try thing that reminds you of the deity or how you see them can be drawn or painted. Others- Pottery, Dance, Crocheting or handy crafts, or even more. All can be done in offering to a deity. Specifics - If you have done research into who you're offering to, you can offer specific things. Sleep for Hypnos, Baking bread for Hestia, Rehearsing if in the arts for Dionysus, etc. Self Care- This not a lot of people think applies, however the gas most want you to be kind to your self. whether it be a bath with oils, flower petals, and all the works to just brushing your teeth at night. All would make the gods/entities very proud of you!!

~~~~~Disposal~~~~~

This is something a bit more difficult; You did the thing, you think it's time, now what do you do? A decent chunk of this section was taken from @khaire-traveler. Obviously, actions cannot be "removed" Once the action is complete, the offering is sent.

Food- khaire narrowed it into 4 options that I really like. Just remember, when on an alter, don't let it sit too long for health concerns (rotting, bugs, etc.)

Consume - After praying aver the food like I had mentioned before.

Bum - Also mentioned before, but can be done after sitting at an altar for awhile.

Bury- Food offerings. if safe for local wildlife, can be buried. "My logic in burying them (only if environmentally safe) is returning the offering to the earth in a sense." (khair-3) (Yes its MLA cited, AP capstone has rotted my brain) If that fits Your practice, it is a good option.

Dispose, - This, like everything else here, must be done with respect. Clarify with the entity/deity that you aren't doing so out of disrespect, rather because this is your preferred disposal style or your only option

Objects/Art Pieces- If you have this ability, talk to your entity/deity about it, clarify there is no disrespect in the removal, and give the deity some time to de-attach to it. Slowly, the energy will fade from the object when kept away from the altar. This doesn't need to a ritual, but can be if that's what you prefer

Thank you for reading! This is my first fore into the pagan-sphere, so if this is something a lot of people like, I'll continue! Blessed Be, Alyssa the Witch!

[ms-demeanor]

Can you offer any advice for avoiding hoarding when part of the problem is that trying to deal with the clutter and garbage and dirt causes paralyzing anxiety? I want my house to be clean and cluttered because it's stuff I like, but instead it's full of trash and stuff that had a place but doesn't seem to fit back in it after being used.

I can absolutely offer advice about that.

Short TL;DR:

Select the room you want to clean and make a map of it.

Divide the room into small segments like "top of desk" or "cabinet under sink" or even "half of junk drawer." SMALL segments.

Designate bags "trash," "donate," and "consider later."

Schedule a time to work on cleaning each segment, don't just assume "i'll do it next week." Write down an assigned day for each area.

Go into your target area and sort things into those bags.

Optionally, create a bag for memento items to put into a specific memento box/book.

Take bags out of the space when they are full to make more room to work and to see progress.

Do the section for the day and stop. Don't get overwhelmed by a ton of stuff, stop when you've done what you planned for the day (unless you've got good momentum built up and continuing will energize you.)

Long TL;DR:

Go someplace where you are not looking at the mess. You want to draw a map of the room, but you do not want to be in the room. Work one room at a time.

Divide the area you want to clean into very small spaces. You aren't cleaning an entire desk, you are cleaning one drawer of a desk.

Take three containers with you for each section: one trash bag, one donation bag, and one bag of stuff to consider later.

Plan out time to work on the space. Don't say "I'll do the whole thing this weekend" or "I'll get to it after the holidays," sit down and write out a schedule. There's a version of this called 40 bags in 40 days that people do for lent (that was the version of this i first found and followed the first time i did it), but you could do it in ten days, or a hundred, just try to stick to working on each segment on the day it's scheduled.

In each space, keep the stuff that's obviously meant to go there in that space, so if you're cleaning a desk drawer and it has a stapler in it, the stapler can stay there but if the staples and paper clips and rubber bands are a mess put that stuff into the "consider later" bin. Same thing with papers; if you've got a bunch of papers and you may need to keep some and may need to trash some, put them in the "consider later"

THERE IS AN OPTIONAL BIN FOR PEOPLE WHO WANT TO HANG ON TO A MILLION MEMENTOS AND CONCERT TICKETS AND SUCH. I make them by getting gallon freezer bags and filling them up with business cards and concert programs and scraps of wrapping paper and birthday cards. This isn't quite "consider later" because it's probably stuff you know you want to keep, this is "I don't have a home for this thing right now but it's not trash" so this is a temporary home for that category.

Remove stuff from the space as you work. As you fill up a bag of trash or consider later or donate, take it out of the space so you aren't looking at it and you can see the progress you're making on the space.

Do each section as you come to it on your schedule and then call it quits. If you cleaned out the counter next to the sink and that was your area for the day, you don't have to worry about the area under the sink unless you have the energy and enthusiasm for it.

Philosophical musing about why this works

The reason this kind of plan works (for me) is by pre-managing several things. You know you're working with a limited area, you know what you're going to do with the stuff you find in that area (put it in one of your bags or leave it where it is if it belongs in that area), you're working on a limited time so this can't stretch out forever it's just a little chunk, you're thinking about the space as you build your plan so you're visualizing the anxiety inducing thing outside of the space that actually gives you the anxiety which hopefully allows you to detach slightly from the anxiety, and you're getting your steps lined up ahead of time so there's no muddle of "what do i do now, how do I get started" - you get started by grabbing your bags and you go to that day's scheduled section.

The whole thing is constructed to prevent you from getting overwhelmed.

I used to try to clean my room as a kid and I would find something that needed to get put away but I didn't know where it went so I'd spend a bunch of time trying to make a space for it and I'd end up getting lost in the weeds of imagining how I'd use the item and if the new place for it was accessible, and oh look at the items that I found in this other place where I was going to put this item and this method cuts off all of that. Where I am putting the item is in the bag, where it is going is the "consider later" pile and when I've cleared out most of the space I can consider where things go when I've gathered all the uncertain things into one place instead of continually unearthing them and disrupting the process of going through stuff.

What it means to Consider Later

The reason you're working room by room is because you should be isolating the consider later pile by room. If you're cleaning out the bedroom you may end up with stuff that belongs in the kitchen or the office, but you'll end up with a lot of stuff that belongs in the bedroom. When you've worked through all your segments, you can sort the consider later pile and now that you have all the objects together, you can consider whether some of them belong together in a space in the room.

For instance, when I first did this there were a lot of books that needed to go on bookshelves, but my bookshelves weren't accessible in the early parts of the process. So books from the floor and the bed and the nightstand went into the consider later pile and after the whole floor was clear and there was no trash on my desk and all the books I was donating had been pulled from my bookshelves, I was able to organize all of my books at once instead of stumbling across a book every four minutes and trying to shelve it.

That's what spawned the memento bags for me; there was a ton of stuff in my consider later bags that didn't precisely have a place but weren't trash and needed a place made for them. If I'd struggled to find where each item went as I cleaned it would have completely stalled me out.

I kept finding yarn as I went but I didn't have a dedicated yarn spot, so I just put yarn in the consider later pile and at the end I found a basket for it and put it on a shelf in the closet that had been cleared out when I'd donated old clothes. If I had tried to find a spot for the yarn before donating the clothes, I would have had to move it once the better spot opened up, so saving all the consider later stuff for later saved me from having to move stuff several times.

If you're in a small space or if you're living with people and you can't make a pile of stuff in another room for two weeks, at the very least remove the trash and donation bags as you go and designate an area for your consider later pile; maybe a laundry basket or something similar so that you can keep it mobile as you clean.

It's kind of like moving in to a new space. When you move in to an empty room, you have all your stuff in boxes and you need to figure out where it goes and that can take a while, but it's sometimes easier to find a place to put things in a new environment than it is to put things back "where they belong" because maybe you've added a dozen skeins to your collection and they don't belong in the little yarn bag anymore.

What to trash, what to donate, and what to consider later

Trash should be immediately obvious as trash. Anything that is trash goes in the trash bag right away.

If you find yourself thinking "but I might use this plastic fork that came with my value meal," or "this receipt may be important," put it in the consider later pile and don't think about it right now.

The donate bag should be for stuff that will still be useful for someone, but won't be useful for you. Clothes that you don't like, books you hated and won't re-read, toys you don't want to keep, all of that goes in the donate pile. If you think you might want to keep a piece of clothing but you want to make sure it doesn't fit, don't stop to try it on now just put it in the consider later pile and you can sort it into the donate bag later.

"Consider later" is for anything that requires more than thirty seconds of thought or effort to handle. If you're looking at your desk and you've got a keyboard for your computer on your desk that keyboard is staying there and doesn't need to be considered. If there's an empty takeout cup on your desk, that cup is going in the trash and doesn't need to be considered. If there's a receipt for your computer sitting on your desk, you may want to save that for record-keeping purposes but may not have a place to put it, so that is what you consider later.

Some guidelines on what is or is not trash

You might look at a sturdy plastic cup from a gas station and say "that isn't trash, I could use that, that's still good" but unless you have a specific purpose in mind for it right now, that is trash. If you wouldn't put it in a donation box to be used for some ambiguous future purpose, you don't need to keep it.

If you have a specific purpose in mind, like using an old milk jug to make a watering pitcher for your plants, it may not be trash. But only ONE is not trash; more than that is trash.

If you wouldn't need to have a hard copy of a paper and you have an electronic copy, it is trash. This means receipts for most everyday purchases like groceries and fast food. Don't keep receipts for items past their return period, don't keep receipts for items that you have a digital copy of unless that item cost over $1000.

Nice cardboard boxes (or good glass jars, or sturdy plastic takeout boxes, or cleaned food containers) that you don't have a use for are trash (or recycling, depending on where you live, but still in the trash category).

If you know someone who is specifically looking for an item (like maybe the neighbor kids are asking for cardboard tubes for a science project, or you work with a meal delivery group that could use extra packets of takeout utensils, or you have a friend who is into canning and has asked for jars, or if you make your own soup stock and need containers to put it in, or if you have a friend who is moving and needs lots of good cardboard boxes) then these items don't *have* to be trash but if you are just keeping them in your space and not giving them to people who want them or putting them to use yourself, they are just trash in your space and you should throw them away.

Memory Books/Memento Bags

I make memory books out of the little items i collect into one gallon storage bags. They allow me to hang onto the stuff that I want to keep because it brings me good memories without having a pile of random junk and sometimes without having to keep the item, or having to keep the whole item.

If the thing I want to keep because it brings me good memories is bulky, perhaps I can take a put a picture of that item to put in the book. If it is a worn out shirt, perhaps I can cut a patch off the shirt to put it in the book. If it is a card, perhaps I can cut out just the front of the card, or I can almost certainly just throw away the envelope and put the card in the book.

If you have things that do *not* fit into the memory book, like costume jewelry or rocks or a weird toy you got out of a coin machine on a really fun family vacation, you can also make a memory box; I have some of these and they've got a bunch of truly random crap in them, but I *like* having the nametag from the four hours that I worked at Denny's, or the keychain from when my mom took me to the morgue training class. It's fine to like these things, and to keep many of them, but you want to keep them someplace that they won't stress you out; that might be a display case for nice things, but it also might be a pretty velvet bag that you periodically pull out of a drawer and sort through like a magpie, or a wooden box that you painted.

You can also be selective about this stuff. You don't need every piece of costume jewelry your grandmother owned; keep the pieces you really like or the ones you have strong memories of or the ones that are very nice or the ones that are in good shape. But look, my mom was a teacher and she had a wide variety of goofy holiday jewelry that she wore in the classroom and I don't need to hang onto that. I don't need the big plastic ghost earrings that won't fit in my plugs, but I'll hang onto the spider brooch. She collected cheap watches - I don't need all of her four dollar watches, I can keep the nice ones, or the one that she got for ten years at her job. Do the same thing with stuffed animals and baby clothes and magazines and children's books. You don't need to keep all of it, and keeping all of it isn't going to help you remember that time more, or remember that person better.

Do you really want to keep it or do you feel obligated?

Youtuber Caroline Winkler (who has some great videos about home organization that I like a lot, in particular "this is why your home is a mess" - with the caveat that she likes closed storage and my ADHD ass loves open storage) has a really great tip on getting rid of stuff that works a LOT better for me than the Marie Kondo "Does this spark joy?" question and it's the Red Wine Test. Instead of asking if an item sparks joy, you ask yourself "If a bottle of red wine spilled on this (or if it was in some other way damaged) how hard would I try to fix it?" If you wouldn't try very hard, or if you would be *relieved* then you can get rid of that item. If one of the Venom mugs I have on the shelf fell down and broke, I wouldn't try hard to fix it. If my cat stuffed animal from when I was a kid tore open, I would immediately be looking for my sewing kit.

.... I should recycle those cheap teal glasses, actually.

Some general tips that may help to get you started that work for me and my ADHD and may work for you and your anxiety:

Start a timer for a short time. You don't have to clean your whole house, you are just going to pick up for five minutes. Then you can stop, and you only have to face a *little* bit of the anxiety.

5-4-3-2-1-go. Don't overthink it, count down quickly and then get up and do something. Keep going in as long a spurt as you can manage without getting too upset, but cutting down on the time for pre-game fretting might help with the anxiety.

Do the smallest amount possible. You don't have to clean this room, you just have to take one dish to the sink. You don't have to do all the dishes, you can just unload part of the top tray of the dishwasher.

Some general tips on trying to keep a space clean:

First, encouragement: It is a lot easier to maintain a clean space than it is to create one.

If you're thinking that something needs to be done and it can take you under five minutes to do it and it's right in front of you, do it. I do this with my dishwasher. It turns out unloading the dishwasher is the main thing that stalls me on dishes and keeps my sink full, so now when I'm waiting for the kettle or letting my tea steep, I unload whatever I can get done in that time. If I have the vacuum out and I did my living room but the hall and the bedroom could use a quick pass too, I vacuum them while I've got the machine in my hand.

Set success traps. Success traps are things that let you fall into succeeding by front-loading the effort (or executive function) of cleaning with planning. Trash collects in your living space? Put a bunch of little trash cans everywhere. Cleaning your bathroom takes extra time because you have to go get glass cleaner and paper towels from another room? Keep a bottle of glass cleaner and a roll of paper towels under the sink. You never sweep because it is a pain in the ass to get the broom out of the broom closet? Hang the broom from a mount in the kitchen. It takes too long to clean the counter because you have to pick up a bunch of makeup brushes and bottles and soap? Put that shit on a tray and now you only have to move one thing to clean the counter.

And for your specific question, with "things never seem to quite fit back where they came from" sounds like you're playing storage tetris, which is when things have a place and it is a *very specific and exact* place that doesn't have a lot of room around it. You may need to think about downsizing for your space, or, more likely, think about more efficient storage. That Caroline Winkler video I linked has some tips on this ("don't store things in a way that will make you angry like putting your common use objects on an out of reach shelf or you'll never put things back because it's hard to put them back" and "maximize your weirdo spaces" speak to your situation, i think) that I've put into use, particularly in my kitchen. It was hard to keep the counter clear because it was hard to put my stand mixer away because the rack for the stand mixer had a wok and a bunch of cast iron pans and a panini press and a chafing dish on it; I put the panini press and the least-used cast iron and the chafing dish and the wok in a more out-of-the way cabinet (because i basically never use them but they're very useful when I need them) and now that shelf has a little grill, my more commonly used cast iron, and my stand mixer so putting away the stand mixer is a lot less effort so my counter stays clear. I wasn't using the top shelf of my dish cabinet for dishes because it's too high up for daily use, but it's perfect for the rice cooker, waffle maker, and food processor that I use less than my dishes but more than my george forman grill.

And anyway, the TL;DR for all of that:

Work a little bit at a time, be nice to yourself, don't keep things that aren't worth keeping, and configure your storage in a way that works for you (by keeping your lifestyle, the way you use things, and how easy it is to put away into account before deciding that's where something lives).

Good luck!

[miyukisu]

❤︎ | Kaiser picks off food on your plate sometimes... ╰ feat. michael kaiser (bllk) x gn! reader

"Tsk, you left the pickles again," he says while picking off the tiny slices of the fermented vegetable that fell out your burger and on to your plate.

You could only shrug at him. Pickles are disgusting—nothing can convince you otherwise. The slimy texture and fermented flavor makes your face scrunch every single time.

But he chews and swallows it like it doesn't bother him at all. "Why even order a burger with pickles if you're gonna remove it?"

"Because I know you like them."

But he ate just about anything. He ate pickles, mushrooms, olives, and all the vegetables you wouldn't even put on your plate. Sure, he had this weird aversion to milk, but you figured everyone has to dislike some food item—right?

Kaiser placed his fork back on his plate and leaned back in his seat. "How thoughtful of you."

A small smile appeared on his face as he tried to play it cool. Compliments like these often ended up sounding like he was being condescending (in an affectionate way, of course).

But, deep down he meant it.

He liked eating with you. It made him forget about those days when he'd eat all alone. Hell—he guesses he was lucky if he was even able to eat back in those days.

With you by his side, he never has to worry about having a warm meal or someone to eat it with.

©miyukisu do not repost/reupload/translate any of my works on other platforms

╰ author's note fluff and a lil bit of angst before the storm (kinktober) lol

[david-watts]

got yelled at because apparently putting books back on the shelf in alphabetical order ‘doesn’t make sense’

[seungkw1]

pretty little present — smg

♡ pairing: bf!mingi x afab!reader ♡ theme: smut ♡ wc: 2.5k ♡ warnings: dom!mingi, sub!reader, size kink (obviously), reader wears lingerie, mingi picks up reader and carries them, masturbation (f. & m.), oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), multiple orgasms (f. receiving), unprotected piv sex (do not do this), dacryphilia, possessiveness, creampie, reader gets one (1) hickey, pet names (princess, doll, babygirl), great aftercare, fluff ending ♡ a/n: i don’t normally write atz but bestie @myhimbomingi requested a mingi fic and i absolutely said yes!! i had such a fun time writing him hehe

The soft light of early dawn filters through your eyelids as you slowly drift into consciousness. You roll over, flopping your arm over your sleeping boyfriend to snuggle up next to him - but your hand hits nothing but the bedsheets. You sleepily pry your eyes open to see his side of the bed vacant. You grab your phone to check your texts - sure enough, you have a message from Mingi, sent at 6:14am:

good morning babe :) sorry to leave without saying goodbye but i didnt wanna wake u, u looked so cute!! i had to leave early for work today but i promise i’ll make it up to u! i left u a present on the counter, we’ll put it to good use tonight ;) love you ❤️

You were planning on going back to sleep, but now you're simply too curious. You hop out of bed and make your way to the kitchen. There, on the counter, you see a flat, gift-wrapped box - creamy white in color with baby pink ribbons tying it together. Whatever it is, it looks expensive. You untie the pastel bow and remove the lid. Underneath several layers of crisp white tissue paper, you find your present: a lingerie set. 

The set is jet black, made of silky mesh adorned with lace and satin ribbons. It’s light as a feather, buttery soft to the touch - clearly a luxury item. You've never worn anything like it in your life, but it's beautiful. 

You pull your phone out to text your boyfriend. 

got your gift, hurry home to me ;) 

The typing bubble immediately pops up. Within seconds he responds. 

i will baby 😘

The day passes at an annoyingly slow pace. You didn't have much to do today anyway, so you try to occupy yourself with chores, but you can't help daydreaming about what all Mingi will be doing to you later. 

Finally, evening rolls around - Mingi will be home soon. 

You take a quick shower to freshen up, afterwards donning your new lingerie set. With all its various straps it takes you a few minutes to even figure out how to get it on, but once you do you step in front of your full length mirror to check it out. You knew it was gonna be really pretty on, but you look fucking hot. You start thinking about how feral it's going to make Mingi - quickly ruining the delicate panties at the mere thought of him. 

You grab some leggings and a big tshirt and throw them on. Another peek in the mirror verifies that you can't tell what you're wearing underneath the comfy clothes - all the more perfect to surprise him with. 

A few minutes later, you hear the sound of the front door being unlocked and opened. 

“Babe, I’m home!” Mingi calls out. 

You flutter on over to meet him, practically skipping as you jump into his arms. He pulls you in for a big kiss, placing his large hand on the back of your head, petting your hair softly as he holds you tight against him. As his lips depart from yours, he smiles, gazing at you with pure love. 

“I missed you,” you tell him as you place your hand on his chest. 

“I missed you too,” he replies as he kisses your forehead. 

“Soooo,” he starts as he tosses his bag down and kicks his shoes off. “What do you say we try out your new present?”

“Already?” you reply coyly. “Don’t you wanna eat dinner first?”

“It can wait,” he says as he lightly grabs onto your chin. His voice turns low and rumbly. 

“I’d rather eat you.”

You giggle. “Well somebody's horny.”

“I've been thinking about you all day - thinking about how good you're gonna look in your gift.” He strokes your jaw with his thumb. “Gonna be my pretty little present.”

He grabs the hem of your tshirt, starting to pull it off of you. 

“Why don't we get you out of these clothes already and-”

He stops. He’s lifted your shirt just enough to reveal the black lacy lingerie underneath. 

“Oh.”

“One step ahead of you, baby,” you say sweetly. 

“Fuckkkkk,” he groans. He helps you lift your shirt the rest of the way off, flinging it aside as he takes in the sight of you. The mesh lining of the bra is entirely sheer, putting your nipples on full display. The coolness of the room combined with how turned on you’re getting makes them perk up, poking through the delicate fabric. 

He brushes his fingers over the protruding buds, making them even harder. He licks his lips as he gazes at you, the love in his eyes quickly turning into lust. 

You reach for the waist of your leggings, sliding them off of you to reveal the rest of the set. You kick them aside, standing up before him to show yourself off.

“Turn around for me,” Mingi commands.

You give him a twirl, wiggling your butt as your back faces him. He grabs onto you with both hands, squeezing your ass, kneading the soft flesh in his hands.

You let him touch you for a few moments before you spin around, grabbing his hands as you pull him with you toward the bedroom.

“Come on, what are you waiting for?” you tease.

Before you can take another step you feel your feet depart from the ground - Mingi grabs you by the waist, lifting you off the floor as he picks you up. He practically tosses you over his shoulder as he carries you down the hallway, his arm wrapped tightly around your torso as he holds you against him. 

“Hey!!” you shout, but a big grin spreads across your face. So he’s in this kind of mood. You know he’s about to throw you around, have his way with you - even more so than normal. You feel your pussy clench in anticipation. 

You arrive at the bedroom. Mingi tosses you onto the bed - you land on your back, resting upon the pile of pillows. You keep your legs open, showing off your pussy through the sheer fabric of your underwear. 

“So wet for me already,” he says as he runs two fingers lightly across your clothed slit. He gives your cunt a gentle smack. 

“Touch yourself for me, princess. Leave your panties on.”

You obediently slide your fingers to your core. Mingi quickly pulls his shirt over his head, then reaches for his belt. You begin stroking your clit through the soft mesh as you watch him remove his clothes, freeing the large bulge that has formed in his pants. He pulls his boxers down, his length springing free. As many times as you’ve had sex with him, you’re still always taken aback by his size. His cock is thick, long, hard - precum already dribbling from his tip. He strokes himself a few times as he watches you. You slip your fingers underneath your panties, sliding them into your opening. You moan softly at the sensation - but you know this is absolutely nothing compared to how much his cock is going to fill you up. 

He watches you slowly fuck yourself for a minute, gripping his length in his fist. As you start to wriggle slightly to your own touch, he steps forward. You yelp as he grabs you by the ankles, yanking you toward the edge of the mattress. He kneels down, leaning against the bed, positioning his face in front of your cunt. His hands slide up the underside of your thighs, pushing your legs up and into the bed, nearly folding you in half as he opens you up even further before him. He sticks his tongue out, dragging its tip ever so lightly over your clit through the panties - it’s enough to drive you insane.

“Mingi,” you whine, trying to push yourself into his mouth. He retracts his head, not letting you get what you want just yet.

“What’s that, baby?” he asks. The way he’s staring at you, you can tell he is dying to taste you - but he doesn’t miss the opportunity to taunt you a bit.

“Please,” you softly mumble under your breath.

“Use your words, doll. Tell me exactly what you want.”

“Want your mouth on me,” you manage to utter, still trying to push your cunt against his mouth - but his grip on you is too strong. “Want you to make me cum.”

“Like this?” he asks, teasing you once more as his tongue dances over your pussy.

“God, yes,” you cry. You feel like you’re going to lose your mind if he delays any further. 

“Or,” he continues as he reaches beneath the hem of your panties, pulling them aside. The coolness of the air hits your soaked core, countered by the hot exhales of Mingi’s breath against you. “Like this…”

He dives into you, his warm mouth greeting your cunt as his tongue traces between your folds. He sticks the tip into your hole - you’re so wet right now that it slips in with ease. You groan as he fucks you with his tongue, his nose pressing against your clit as he swirls his tongue around inside you. He pulls it out, flattening his tongue and licking a big stripe up your center before latching onto your clit. You cry out at the overpowering stimulation, writhing beneath Mingi’s strong arms as he sucks on the sensitive bud. A white-hot sensation swells in your gut, burning delightfully as you feel your orgasm approach. Your body tenses, your legs beginning to quiver as Mingi devours you. You reach for his head, grasping onto his hair as your climax takes over. You scream out Mingi’s name as you cum on his face, his tongue moving relentlessly against your clit as you ride out your high. He grips onto you until the very end, face buried in your pussy as you come down. Just when you think it’s over, he starts up again, sucking on your clit as he slips his fingers into you, curling them perfectly to reach your g-spot. Within moments, you’re cumming again, grinding against his tongue as overwhelming pleasure courses through your veins. He slows his motions, giving your clit a few last gentle licks as he slides his fingers out of you. They’re dripping wet, as is his entire chin - he places them in his mouth, licking them clean, making sure he doesn’t waste a single drop of you. 

You lay there, your chest rising up and down with heavy breaths as you try to recover. Mingi crawls up to meet your face, kissing you slowly on the mouth as he lays his weight upon you - resting on his forearms so he doesn’t completely squish you. You feel his cock throbbing against your cunt as he makes out with you - you can just tell he is unbearably hard. 

Mingi’s lips part from yours - barely, just enough so he can gaze into your eyes as he strokes your hair.

“Please fuck me,” you beg, your voice barely more than a whisper.

He nuzzles his head into your neck, sucking at your skin - lightly, but enough that you know it’ll leave a mark. 

“Anything for my princess,” he whispers into your ear. 

He stands up, pulling your hips toward him. He grabs onto the panties, ripping them off of you and throwing them aside. He lines his cock up with your entrance; he pushes just the head in, but he’s already stretching you out. Slowly he slides his full length into you - you cry out at the overwhelming fullness. He rests inside you for a few moments, letting you get used to his size. You begin shifting your hips, trying to ride his cock from beneath him. Mingi grins.

“So eager,” he coos, tracing his fingers over your stomach. “Are you ready babygirl?”

“Uh-huh,” you mewl, nodding your head swiftly.

He begins fucking you, steadily at first, but your cries quickly makes him increase his pace. Tears flow from your eyes as his thickness stretches you with each motion. He grasps tightly onto your hips, pulling you against him as he thrusts into you. He looks down at you, his pretty baby, losing all composure on his cock. He moans loudly, uninhibited - he doesn’t care if the whole world hears him. He wants everybody to know you’re his.

He reaches down, feeling your breasts through the lacy sheer bra.

“So pretty,” he groans. “So perfect, all mine.”

His hand slides down to your stomach, pushing down on your abdomen as he fucks you. The other reaches for your clit - you didn’t think you could possibly cum again, but the gentle pressure of his fingers combined with his cock nearly splitting you in half just feels too good. 

“Gonna cum,” you manage to get out, barely able to speak through your cries of pleasure. 

“Cum for me babygirl,” Mingi growls, very near his own release.

You cum on his cock, crying out his name as your walls squeeze around him - sending him over the edge. He releases, painting your insides with his hot white ropes. He grasps onto your hips, holding you down against him as his cock pulsates inside you. He breathes heavily, grunting as he gives you every last spurt of his cum. As he finishes, he holds still, his cock resting inside you. He leans over, careful not to pull out just yet - gently he grabs your jaw as he kisses you, his lips hungrily interlocked with yours. 

“Wait right here baby,” he says softly as your mouths finally part. You groan as he carefully pulls his cock out of you, immediately missing the sensation. Mingi quickly makes his way to the bathroom; he returns with a small towel, doused in warm water. Gently he cleans you up, cautious as not to overstimulate you. As he finishes he tosses the towel back into the bathroom, scooping you up and pulling you into the bed with him. He tucks the both of you underneath the blankets, taking you in his arms as he nuzzles up against you. 

“Are you cold?” he asks, kissing you on the forehead.

“Not with you here.”

“Good.”

You lay there in silence, deep breaths filling the air as you relax into each other's arms.

“Thanks for the present, baby,” you finally say, your voice soft and sleepy.

“You’re welcome, love.”

“You did completely rip it to shreds, though,” you remind him.

Mingi smiles sheepishly. “Sorry, I got a little carried away. You just looked too good.”

He cradles your cheek in his palm. “I’ll just have to get you another one,” he tells you with a kiss.

“I wouldn’t mind that,” you say as you snuggle up into him. “Just give me a few business weeks to recover from this please.”

He laughs, drawing you even closer into him. You begin to drift off to sleep, comfortable and warm in his embrace.

“Mingi?” you say softly.

“Yes, babe?”

“I love you.”

You feel his cheeks turn into a smile.

“I love you too, baby.”

[synthetickitsune]

Jeonghan (SVT) | Nap fluff | 0.9k | gn!reader A/N: @hanniedream :)

This isn’t what you had planned when you joined Jeonghan for his nap after lunch.

Can it even be called a nap anymore when it’s been 3 hours?

You wake up feeling like you got hit by a train and woke up in a parallel universe. Your limbs feel so heavy it’s not even worth moving them and you’re not sure what amount of water you’d need to drink to get rid of the headache. You’re almost tempted to ask Jeonghan to bring you a painkiller, but then you stop.

If you’re in bed and just woke up, that means he must be still sleeping.

Carefully as you can with your body basically a deadweight you turn around. Sure enough, Jeonghan is still fast asleep. His chest rises and falls in a steady, slow rhythm. Just looking at him makes you feel like succumbing to sleep again. Maybe more sleep would fix everything - except that has never worked for you and you know better than to hope it would this time.

So you do the only smart thing you can - you sit up. Honestly your throat feels like you’ve been gurgling sand and a bathroom break sounds great too. And then perhaps afterwards you’ll feel good enough to be productive or at least awake enough that you’ll put on some movie and chill. Yet before you can get up, you feel warmth over your hand. You look back to see Jeonghan’s hand covering your, his brows furrowed slightly. He looks so pitiful. 

“I’m just going to the bathroom,” you whisper to soothe him.

He doesn’t remove his hand but when you slide your hand away and get up, he doesn’t stop you either. 

It’s only when you’re standing at the sink minutes later that you realize you forgot to take your phone with you. Now that shouldn’t be a big deal, but it is.

When Jeonghan hesitantly brought up his desire for a staycation instead of planning anything for the first time off he had in months, you agreed without a single doubt that it’s the best way to enjoy each other and recharge like you both needed to. The first thing you agreed on and promised to follow was ‘sleep when you’re tired, for as long as you’re tired’, and you promised not to wake him up unless it was an emergency.

Your boyfriend promised the same without you asking him too - and honestly that’s for the best because usually the ‘emergency’ you’d be woken up to is him just waking up from a nap and needing someone to tell all about his crazy dreams. Other times he just gets lonely. Honestly you know it’s an excuse to look out for you. He knows you don’t like to sleep for as long as you did today in the middle of the day.

So now that you’re standing in the kitchen without your phone, you can’t help but sigh. Going back to the bedroom is risky enough, but looking for the device? You’re bound to wake him up. 

Still, you have no idea how long he’s going to keep sleeping and you’d rather avoid getting a notification that will wake him up anyway. 

You creep into the bedroom quietly, pleased to note that you’ve gotten better at it upon seeing Jeonghan sleeping as peacefully as when you left the room. He doesn’t stir when you reach the bed either, and fortune is on your side because your phone is right there - peeking from under the corner of your pillow. Right there.

You wrap your fingers around it and at that precise moment Jeonghan’s hand shoots towards the device too. You pull back, thinking he must’ve just wanted to check the time and thought it was his own phone. 

He did not.

Met only with the cold surface of the item, he blinks his eyes open - bloodshot and teary, clearly woken up from a deep sleep, while he aims and catches your forearm this time.

“Where-?” he groans, falling back into the mattress again.

“I just woke up, Hannie,” you sigh, sitting down now that he’s awake, “I’ll be in the next room.”

“No,” he whines, trying and failing to open his eyes again. He whimpers again and you get the message loud and clear. 

Lying down, you help him put his hand on your waist and return your embrace. “There, I’m here.” 

He hums quietly. His lips press against your forehead as if he wanted to kiss you, or maybe tell you something. You’ll never know. Now that you’re safely in his arms, his breathing is already even yet again.

You try to fight off the lingering exhaustion, push back the sudden heaviness to your body and your eyelids. It’s a lost fight. Jeonghan is so warm and his arms slung over your waist and the memory of his desperate need to have you close make your heart flutter.

If this is what your body demands, then perhaps you need it.

You stop struggling against the pull of sleep.

You earned this opportunity to rest as much as you can. You don’t have to do anything but recover.

And very few things are as precious and healing as waking up to Jeonghan’s beautiful eyes and smile, no matter the time or how messed up your sleeping schedule will be.

[bxlladxnnabxtch]

Devotion & Deceit

Rhysand x Reader

❀​🇲​​🇦​​🇸​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​​🇱​​🇮​​🇸​​🇹​❀

Summary: Upon learning Rhysand intends to go through with his proposal, you begin to deteriorate. Your mates complete disregard for your concerns leaves you making some brash decisions of your own.

Read pt.1 to Devotion & Deceit - HERE

Read pt.4 - HERE

Warnings: Descriptions of trauma, Panic Attacks, Blood, Depression, Brief mentions of self harm.

You weren’t able to get up out of bed, and despite Azriels visits and multiple attempts, he couldn’t get you up either. Even though the majority of your time was spent in the small bedroom of that log cabin, very little time was spent actually sleeping in it. The miniscule amount of sleep you did get was broken by you jolting awake in the dead of night only to cry until the sun peaked through the cracks of the drapes that remained closed no matter what time of day.

The meals that Azriel brought to you remained ignored and untouched on the nightstand, to be removed by him the next day with a fresh platter in the hopes that you would at least pick through it. On occasion the smell would have you scrambling for the toilet, thin figure peeled over the side as you dry heaved into the bowl. The meals eventually reduced to small snacks the more often it happened, making you feel the slightest hint of guilt which only had you burrowing further into the sheets.

Niliana’s best efforts didn’t seem to shake you either, she’d come by to give you the latest spiel of the gossip in town, or brush out your hair as you laid in bed. She came by every day for the better part of a month, until the work she put off caught up to her, sending the wraith scrambling to catch up. She no longer came by.

Rhys hadn’t sent a word down the bond. Not a flicker of emotion, pain, even a thought. Just.. nothing. He was completely shut off from you. Not like you could complain, you did the exact same to him, going completely MIA.

“Have you two spoken?” Azriel said from the doorway, a glass of water in hand along with a small rag that undoubtedly held more food he wanted you to shove down your throat. Azriel sighed as he saw your eyes fall on the item, a grimace gracing your features. You muttered a soft “no” as he padded towards the bed, hand outstretched in a silent plea for you to sit up.

You groaned, sitting up as you rubbed your eyes, the dark circles surrounding them making you look like you had taken a beating. “I need to change anyways.” You croaked; voice rough as you swung your legs over the side of the bed.

You had visibly lost weight, your legs looking like if you look a step they’d crack under the pressure. You couldn’t bring yourself to care even the slightest bit. Ever since he had chosen her. Left his mate to rot in this stupid log cabin as if you meant nothing to him. Chose her again just like he did Under the Mountain, while Amarantha forced you to watch every night as she danced for him in that skimpy little outfit. But even then, you understood, then you knew that he was doing it for you- doing what was necessary.

What you didn’t understand was this. It had ended, you had run to him in that arena like you had wanted to for fifty years. You had clung to him like he was your lifeline. Five decades of Amarantha using you as her slave, only allowing you to see Rhys when he was tangled up with her. Always by her side.

And he had chosen someone else over you- yet again.

Azriel broke your thoughts by holding out the glass to you, and you rose from the bed, taking it in your frail hands, slightly shaky from the lack of vitamins. You brought it to your mouth, letting the chill of the glass rest on your bottom lip as you swallowed a few mouthfuls of the liquid. It didn’t go down easy, the cold making you recoil slightly as you swallowed the last bit.

You turned back to hand the glass back to Azriel, but he was frozen, face pale as he looked at you. His shadows swarmed him, moving around him in a frenzy, curling towards his ears, flicking around his waist. He stared at the glass you held out to him, and you slowly retracted your hand as you realize he was too caught up in whatever his shadows were whispering to him.

Your face fell, and the corners of your mouth downturned into a poorly concealed frown. “Is she there?” You asked, the question falling out of you before you could do anything to stop it, not that you could’ve. You didn’t know why you needed to know so bad, your body ached with the question, your hand gripping the glass tighter in an unexplainable want.  His mouth opened like he was going to speak, but immediately shut closed as he hesitated. He didn’t need to say it, you knew.

You knew, you always knew.

Something in you snapped, and like a cage being unlocked, a fiery, all-consuming fury burst through the bars and swallowed you whole. The feeling swamped you like a tidal wave, your arm cocking back, barely feeling the glass slipping from your grasp as you sent it soaring straight at the wall.

The glass shattered immediately upon impact, the sound breaking the comforting stillness of the room, making Azriel flinch. Shards of glass and remnants of water were blown back at you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as you felt the water drench the front of your shirt. The cloth stuck to your ribcage, the frigid wetness not registering in the slightest. You felt a shard slice your cheek open as it grazed you, and other bits of glass embed themselves into you as you heard the tinkle of the pieces falling to the floor, a few skittering across the ground.

“I’M NOT STAYING HERE!” You roared, hands coming to cradle your head, hands fisted in your hair. You pulled at the roots, clung to them like they’d offer some grain of comfort as your breathing began to speed up. The room was spinning, everything was spinning.

And you were Under the Mountain again- you were cold and wet. It was dark, your cell was too small. You could feel the dirt and grime and how it was caked under your fingernails like the dust had engraved itself onto you. Your matted hair and the feeling of the violent tugs as you ripped it out. But that was your hair- you could feel it between your fingers. You couldn’t breathe- God, why couldn’t you breathe.

“Get your shit together!” Azriel yelled, jolting you as he forced you to stop spiraling, hands clamping down on your wrists as you stilled. His grip dug into your skin, and you finally surfaced from the hurricane in your head enough to realize you were holding clumps of your hair in your hands. The thin strands hung from your fingers like a morbid Solstice decoration, and you vaguely recognized the sting that told you that you had bitten through your bottom lip in your haste.

You stared at him wide eyed, feeling the burn of your tears leaking into the cut on your cheek. You flinched as you felt a drop of blood hit your forearm, and looked down soon enough to watch the crimson run down the expanse towards your elbow. It stained your skin, and you watched as another drop landed right beside it. You were bleeding, you could feel as it ran down your cheek, over your jaw, mingling with the blood that dripped from your lip down your chin.

“Do you think if you destroy yourself enough that he’ll come save you like he did for Feyre?”

It dawned on you then, just how much you had ruined yourself. You had turned into the very thing you had hated Feyre for. The very thing that had Rhys tripping over himself to go and fix, just like he did for her Under the Mountain.

Yet he didn’t come for you.

“I can’t stay here.” You whispered, bottom lip trembling.

“Then you won’t.” Azriel said, letting go of your wrists.

Azriel had helped you calm down and think of what you were going to pack, not that you were taking much with you, the very idea of having anything to remind you of your time here made you want to throw up whatever was left in your stomach. You settled for a small change of clothes, your hands smoothing over the wrinkles as you folded the articles.

“Have you even decided where you’re going?” Azriel asked as he perched on the bed beside you. You shoved the small shirt you were folding into your bag, eyes trailing over to him as he waited on your answer. The drapes had been opened after your breakdown, making the light glint off Azriel’s siphons as he shifted, hands coming to perch on his knees. You shrugged, eyes stinging the slightest bit as they still needed time to adjust to the newly introduced light that you’d been avoiding for weeks. “Home.” You answered simply, finishing shoving your change of clothes into the small pack you now slid over your shoulder.

Azriel bristled, head cocking back as he questioned “The Winter Court?” The dresser at the corner of the room suddenly became very interesting as he made no attempt to hide his concern. “Yep.” You licked your lips, tongue smoothing over the teeth marks that had made a small crater in your bottom lip, the indent making you sigh. “That’s one hell of a flight.” You tucked your knife into the sheath on your thigh, the metal making a grating sound against the studded leather that had you cringing. “It’s not like I could winnow in if I wanted to.”

It's there, then that perhaps Azriel had begun to understand your insatiable need to flee. To leave everything that you had created, the life you’d built, everything that you are. Maybe he had sensed it subconsciously when he had found you that day on the border of the Night Court.

Azriel knew why you couldn’t winnow, it had always been a silent understanding between you two, and exactly the reason he hadn’t touched on it when your training had begun all those years ago. Not that you had gone into detail about what had happened in the middle, what you went through during your journey. But with Azriel being a spymaster, it hadn’t taken him long to fill in the blanks. He knew enough, and he had decided he didn’t need to know anymore- didn’t want to.

But even after you had gotten so used to running, the instinct carved so deep into your blood not even The Mother could undo it, he still had a small pit of anxiety sitting in his stomach that never quite went away. It was out of love, out of an uncontainable fear that history would repeat itself that he swished his hand over towards you, a shadow stirring to life, swirling around your waist and anchoring itself to you.

You watched how it swam and twirled around you, scurrying up your hand and over your arm. “Really?” You had asked, a light, barely there hint of amusement twinged your tone, and he rolled his eyes in response. But when he turned to you, his expression was deadly serious, almost concerned. This man, who had cared for a scared, young Illyrian girl who had somehow crawled her way to the border. Who had taught her how to fly, how to live, how to control the magic that wanted to burst out of her as if it was overflowing. He looked up at you, lips pursed. “You might see her again, you know.” He said, barely a murmur, almost scared that the words he spoke would conjure them to life.

Your eyes flickered to him as you shoved the last dagger into your boot at your heel. “That’s the plan.”

[dollfacefantasy]

strip poker that leads to threesome with death island older boyfriend leon and his best friend chris?! reader keeps on losing and ends up half naked and left in her panties while leon and chris are both fully clothed 🥹. + degration and daddy kink (for leon) !

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader x chris redfield

summary: a game of strip poker with your boyfriend and his friend ends exactly how you'd expect would

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, threesome, oral sex (both m and f receiving), fingering, daddy kink

word count: 3k

a/n + tags: thank you so much for the request babe! i don't really know how to play poker so forgive any errors 🙏 also consider this to be sharing is caring chris & leon. i hope you enjoy how this turned out <3 @nexysworld @gor3-hound @pupthepokemonenthusiast

"That's not fair!" you whine and gesture at the older man sitting to your left at the table.

When your boyfriend had told you he wanted to invite Chris over to hang out this evening, you'd been completely supportive. You were certain this meant they were wanting a replay of the explicit activities that had transpired between the three of you a few weeks prior. You imagined yourself sitting between them at dinner, feeling their lingering gazes, hearing their hinting words. They'd guide you off to the bedroom or even spread you out right there on the table and have their way with you. 

You fantasized about all the possibilities, but one thing that never crossed your mind was that they'd want to play a game of poker. Let alone a game of strip poker.

When Leon pulled out the deck of cards, you'd raised your eyebrows but tentatively agreed. They'd told you that whoever lost a hand would have to remove an article of clothing. You were interested, believing it wouldn't be too long before all three of you were naked and going at it. How wrong you had been though because in reality, it seemed this game did anything but speed things along.

It'd been over an hour, and Chris & Leon were both still fully clothed while you sat in your bra and panties.

What had prompted your outburst of whining was for the first time tonight, someone that wasn't you had lost a hand. You were excited that some progress was being made as Chris stood up to remove a piece of his clothing. But all he did was unbuckle his belt and slip it from between the loops on his jeans.

Both men chuckle at your frustration, and Leon smirks at you.

"Oh, calm down," he says, "Don't be a sore loser."

"It's not being a sore loser when you guys are like openly cheating!" you insist and lean back in your chair.

"How is he cheating, honey? He's removing his clothes isn't he?" he asks you.

"A belt isn't a piece of clothing! You didn't count my necklace when I picked that to take off," you say.

"Chris has to take off his belt to eventually get to his pants. If he had to take off both right now, that wouldn't really be fair," he says, obviously taunting you, "You didn't need to take off that necklace to get to any of your clothes."

"You made me take off both my shoes in one turn," you point out.

"Shoes are in a pair, princess. I only have one belt," Chris adds.

You huff and cross your arms, shooting the both of them with dirty looks. Despite your complaining, the three of you were all on an even playing field at the start of the game. You all had the same amount of items to lose. For the night, you had on your shoes and socks, shirt and skirt, and bra and panties. The guys on the other sides of the table had their shoes and socks, shirt and pants, and belt and underwear. You'd already lost four to put you at your remaining two.

You roll your eyes as Leon deals again, but you sit up to play. As it turns out, Chris coming up short before was a fluke because this time the bad luck was back on you. They both laugh as you throw your cards down and rub your eyes.

"You know, Leon, if you wanted me to take my clothes off, you could've just asked instead of drawing it out with this stupid game," you say.

"But it's so much more fun this way," he grins.

You glare at him while standing up to remove your clothing.

"C'mon, sweetheart. What's it gonna be? That cute ass or those gorgeous tits?" Chris taunts, lowering his tone as his words become lecherous.

You can already feel the heat starting to creep into your face. Without a word you reach behind yourself and unclasp your bra, letting the straps slip over your shoulders as you slide the lacy garment down your arms. Your breasts bounce free from their confines, and you drop it to the floor with your other things.

You're met with a whistle from Leon that cements a flustered expression on your face. Chris wears a smug look, but you can see in his eyes how he enjoys taking in your figure. Your nipples begin to pebble when exposed to the cool air.

"No need to be shy, honey. It's nothing we haven't seen before," your boyfriend teases.

"Just deal again, so we can get this over with," you say.

Sitting down inadvertently pushing your breasts together, making them stand out a bit more as if crying out for attention from either of the sets of hands in the room. It's Chris's turn to deal, but he takes a moment longer to shuffle the cards up since his eyes linger on your chest.

Another round goes by, and it's another round you lose. At least you were out of the game now, but you weren't sure what that meant. The thought of being sent off to your and Leon's room with no reward spun you out of sorts.

"Bullshit! You guys are cheating," you exclaim and drop your cards for the final time.

Both of them laugh at you. Chris shakes his head and takes his winnings from the round while Leon looks over at you.

"Watch your mouth," he says. He's teasing, but he uses a stern tone that zaps arousal right through you, "Remember whose money you're playing with, angel."

You look down when he says that. It was true that you didn't lose anything but your dignity by playing this game. Leon put up the money for the both of you.

"Your money or not, that doesn't change how many times I lost. That's like unnatural amounts of bad luck," you pout.

"Have you ever considered you might just have the worst poker face in the world?" he goads.

"I do not," you respond instantly.

"Oh yes you do," Chris interjects, "You bite your lip whenever you think you can win. Your eyes dart around whenever you feel like you're gonna lose. We can basically read your cards just from hearing your voice."

You scoff at that, but you don't really have a defense. You'd never been a good liar, especially with Leon. He chuckles at the defeat written all over you before leaning a bit closer.

"How about you come sit with me, babydoll? You can be on daddy's team," he says and pats his lap.

The rush that goes through you pulls you from your chair and over to his. He holds your hips, smiling up at you and planting a gentle kiss right above your navel.

"You still lost last round though. Gotta take these off before we can continue," he says and snaps the elastic of your panties.

You drop them to the floor and kick them to the pile of clothing next to your chair. He then takes you in his arms and gets you situated on his thighs. You lean back against his chest while he deals himself and his friend back in.

The first game without you in it is uneventful. You sit with Leon and he occasionally lays a small smooch on your cheekbone, but that's about it. You just watch him play, but at least you're getting some sort of physical contact.

He ends up winning, and Chris slips off his shoes. In a gesture of celebration, his hands come to cover your breasts and give them a squeeze. His fingers dig into the plump flesh, his palms brushing against your hardened nipples.

"You paying attention? Maybe you can learn a thing or two about winning," he murmurs against the skin of your neck.

The next game starts up as Chris sets the deck down between them. This time is a lot more interesting for you. Leon sits there, stoic as ever, but his hand drifts downward. It finds its place between your thighs, his middle digit seeking out the familiar location of your clit.

The invasion causes you to squirm slightly, but a quick pinch to your inner thigh halts your movements. Chris's eyes are switching between his cards and your increasingly aroused appearance. Your boyfriend pays his leering no mind though. The rough pad of his fingertip swirls around your bundle of nerves.

You spread your legs a little to give him more room, and you can feel his face convey his amusement against your head. His fingers rub down over your entrance, dragging some slick up over your clit. His digits slide over it with ease now, flicking back and forth over the tiny bud with lazy precision. You purse your lips to try and stifle your whimpers but little squeaks make it through now and again.

"You don't have to keep quiet, sweetheart," he whispers in your ear, "I think those pretty noises might help daddy win."

He could tell from the way Chris was shifting in his seat that he was starting to get a boner. He was getting aroused himself, but he got you all the time. He had more control. He could stave off a full erection for a little while. His friend on the other hand - he was eager to try you again.

Your head tilts back with permission and a longing breath leaves your lungs. Your breasts rise and fall with the motion, those perky nipples bobbing in a way that nearly hypnotizes Chris. All the while Leon's hand remains dedicated at the apex of your thighs. He strokes you just you like before moving his finger down to your entrance and sliding it in, grinding his palm on your swollen nub simultaneously.

"Fuck daddy," you whimper and roll your hips.

"What is it, baby? Looks like daddy's gonna win, doesn't it?" he purrs.

You nod mindlessly, not paying attention at all to the game. But whatever daddy says goes. That much you knew.

Chris is so enthralled with the sight of you unraveling on his friend's lap that he folds without a second glance at his cards. Your boyfriend chuckles at him while working his finger to the knuckle within you.

"You must have had a pretty rough hand, man," Leon jokes.

Chris's eyes flit to him. "I'm just in the mood for a different kind of fun now," he says.

"You are?" he says. He then turns his gaze to you. "What about you, dolly? You wanna have some fun with daddy's friend now?"

"Yes," you choke out as your back arches away from his chest, his digit pushing up against your internal sweet spot.

"Yeah?" he coos, "What kind? You want Chris in your pussy again? Or something else?"

Decision making isn't your strongest skill while in this frame of mind. You try to come up with an answer. As usual, Leon swoops in for you and makes the save.

"How about you use that pretty mouth on Chris?" he murmurs in your ear, "Suck on his cock while daddy gets his prize for winning."

Chris stands up once the plan is set, his bulge visible at the front of his pants. Leon gestures for him to wait though. Instead of having the older man come to the two of you, he pulls his fingers out of you and spins you around, boosting you back onto the table. You push some of the cards behind you out of the way on your way down. You end up spread across the table, happy that part of your earlier fantasy was now coming true.

Now both men stand, looking down on your nude form and taking in every curve and crux. Leon reaches forward to grope one of your tits again. He gives it a good feel before cupping it and leaning down to press some kisses around the nipple. He kisses from there over to the valley between your breasts and down your tummy. All the affection gives Chris time to shed his pants and boxers and give his cock a few languid tugs.

Leon sits in his chair again, pushing your thighs apart and looking at your glistening cunt. He leans in and kisses your clit with a feather light touch.

"Look at Chris, baby. He's got your treat waiting for you," he mumbles as he wraps his arms around your thighs and delves into his favorite luxury in the world.

You mewl but do as he tells you and turn your head. Waiting for you is Chris's heavy, flushed cock, dripping precum from the swollen tip. Your mouth waters. You'd wanted it bad last time, and now it was all yours. He reaches down to pet your head.

"That look good, princess?" he coos in a low voice.

You nod lazily, your brain fogging up with the mist of lust. Your lips part, and he pushes his hips forward, slotting his length in your mouth. You moan around the shaft, your tongue laving against the veins. His cock was thicker than your boyfriends. The difference thrilled you. You have to stretch your jaw a bit to accommodate him as he works it into your mouth. Your fingers wrap around the part you can't take.

He groans and tilts his head back. He sinks as deep as he can, unable to get enough of that soft, wet orifice.

"Fuck, honey. You're a two for one. Perfect mouth to go with that perfect pussy," he grunts.

You nod lazily and begin bobbing your head best you can while laying on your back. Chris was kind of impressed by your dedication and focus considering Leon was between your legs devouring you as if you were his final meal.

His tongue slides from his mouth and delves into your awaiting entrance. He moans as he tastes you; sweet and rich, completely addictive. As natural as sucking cock came to you, Leon's propensity to eat pussy seemed to be innate. He keeps you pressed against his face, eating you out like you're the finest delicacy he's ever tasted.

The intensity of his efforts have you whining and drooling on Chris's dick, but you keep sucking. The older man's fingers soothingly rub the back of your neck and help to guide you and pace you. Pulling back a bit, you suckle on the tip and kitten lick the head, making him grit his teeth and will himself not to blow his load right there.

"Your daddy's taught you well, babydoll," he pants before pushing you forward again till his tip nudges the back of your throat.

Both you and Leon moan when you hear that. He laps at your cunt with increased fervor now. He flattens his tongue and laves it over your throbbing clit before wrapping his lips around the little bud. You jolt and your legs jerk, but his hold on you is firm.

"Let daddy have his prize, sweet girl. Wanna taste that cum," he mutters before returning all of his attention back to your pussy.

Your whole body shudders, but you keep going for Chris. He runs his free hand through his hair and wipes at the sweat beading on his brow.

"Don't think I'm gonna last too much longer, Leon," he informs the other man.

"She won't either," he tells him, indirectly giving him the go ahead to do as he pleases.

Chris moans while beginning to rock his hips back and forth. His thrusts stay gentle, but they're just what he needs to start working him to the edge. Meanwhile Leon has your hips and legs squirming as if they're running from the release destined to catch them. He keeps you in place and keeps twirling his tongue against you.

It's Chris who cums first. His eyes flutter closed and his hips sputter, making sure he's nice and deep in your mouth when ropes of cum fire out of him. He moans and fucks it all into your awaiting throat. It's warm and sticky, and you swallow it like the good girl you are.

His eyes are hazy as he looks down at you. He's slow to pull out. When he finally does, the tip rests against your lips and you give it a few kisses. A string of saliva connects the two things when he backs away for a moment to catch his breath.

As he calms down, you spiral further into the pits of euphoria. Your back arches off the table and you claw at it so much you feel like there's gonna be scratch marks when you're finished. Leon keeps on with his task like he's being paid. He strikes the perfect balance between playing with your clit and teasing your insides that has you cumming minutes later.

Chris watches from above as you yelp. He takes in every little switch of expression on your face. Leaning down from behind you, he kisses your forehead, then your nose, then finally your lips. He captures all your lewd moans and whimpers. His nose brushes against your chin as his lips move with yours.

He cups and rubs your cheeks as you come down. Leon's movements slow down until he gives your cunt one last sloppy, lingering kiss and pulls away. Your slick covers his chin. He doesn't wipe it away before standing up and bending over to kiss you himself. You taste your pleasure on him.

Your head is still spinning as the men help you sit up on the table. Gentle touches come from all directions it seems, and you're barely able to discern who's who. It's a blissful confusion, and you wouldn't trade the feeling for anything. 

When your eyes refocus, your boyfriend's gaze back into yours. Chris's lips are on your neck, laying tender kisses up the column of your throat. Leon smirks at you as his finger runs down his jawline.

"Let's go upstairs, baby. I haven't fully enjoyed my winnings yet," he whispers before carting you off to the bedroom with Chris following behind.

[starhvney]

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐔𝐏

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: mcd garroth, gene, laurance, travis

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: fluff? literal hurt/comfort

𝐂𝐖: mentions of injuries but no in-depth descriptions

𝐀/𝐍: me when i spend more time finding the pictures for a good picture header than actually writing. i also did not proofread at all so i'm so sorry for any typos or hiccups in my writing

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇

the fight has long since been over, yet after searching every corner of the village, you still saw no sign of the head guard. as your last resort, you hurriedly rush across the ruined plaza, climbing over rubble as you descend into the village mines. 

you find him there, tucked back in the main tunnel and slumped over as he holds a cloth over a gash on his side. his gloved hand fumbles with some medic supplies, though his shaky hold renders himself useless as they tumble to the floor.

“garroth,” you sigh, relieved but also annoyed by his insistence on never asking for help.

he flinches, caught off guard by the blood loss dulling his senses. even now, he stoically has every layer of his armor on except for his chest plate, even his helmet stays firmly against his skull.

“i’ll be alright, my lady,” he starts, though the pained wince he lets out a moment later immediately discounts him for his claims. 

quietly, you approach him, kneeling in front of him and pulling the first aid items out of his grasp. while you can’t see his face, you hear him inhale sharply to protest against you. you silence him with a stern glare, to which he sinks back into the uncomfortable stone without a word. 

“you are much too stubborn,” you chastise, reaching to his other hand to remove it from his wound. “your pride will get you killed.”

you cringe as he peels away the blood-soaked cloth to reveal a deep gash along his side. it's a slash and not a stab, thankfully, but it would still need stitches.

it seems he already knew that, based on the thread and needle he had yet to even tie together. while maneuvering the stitching thread into the eye of the needle, you listen to his shallow and shaky breathing underneath his helm.

“aren’t you having trouble breathing with that?”

“…no.”

your eyes dart up, narrowing at the eye slits of the metal in front of you. 

“it's just me. i understand you want to hide your identity, but when it comes to your health—“

you lift your hands up to his helm, firmly placing them on each side before pausing, waiting to hear for any protests. when you hear none, you slowly lift the metal, sliding it off of his head and revealing what was underneath.

for just a moment you freeze, eyes locking onto his. his hair was a stunning sandy blonde that brushed over his brow line in soft curls. they stuck to his forehead, that had a sheen of sweat over it. you could tell his stunning eye color was dulled over by pain, eyelids drooping and his lips pale.

“…there,” you set the helm down, focusing back on his wound. “now you can breathe better, right?”

“…yes.” he winces, leaning back on your command and revealing his wound again.

carefully, you stitch the wound closed, lifting his linen shirt up enough to allow yourself to wrap the bandaging around his stomach. when you’re done you sit back, wiping your hands against your already dirtied clothes and releasing a deep sigh.

you look up, watching as his jaw clenches and his eyes dart to your feet. he still looks pale, but he at least looks more stable than before.

“garroth.” you call, voice barely above a whisper.

his eyes trail up to yours, hesitant and full of a strange sort of guilt.

“you did a good job protecting me. protecting the whole village. but even the strongest need help,” you take his hand in yours. “at least let one person take care of you in return. i was really worried about you.”

he doesn’t say anything, but you know he understands, swallowing down his deep-set need for independence to put himself in your shoes for a moment.

“there’s a cot down here. why don’t you rest, and i’ll bring you back some food and drink to help you regain your strength.”

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄

you knew something was strange, when the beginnings of the evening cricket chirps grew silent, a heavy feeling settling around your cottage. despite the uneasiness and natural instinct that told you to run, you instead looked around the area for the source.

despite the lack of night critters, you notice a strange fluttering of butterflies dispersing from the other side of some shrubbery. you push through the leaves and twigs, noticing the further you advanced the more wilted the plants became. 

on the other side was a man in strange armor you hadn’t seen before. the metal must’ve been smoldering hot, somehow, because the grass around it wilted and burned away from its touch. despite the strange sense of uneasiness in your chest, you take a few steps towards the man, his form slumped over a large stump.

“sir? are you alright?”

he flinches, hand moving unnaturally quick towards a large sword you didn’t realize he had by his side until now. you stumble back with a startled gasp, hands raising in surrender. dark circles line deep blue eyes, black hair stuck on his face where blood poured from a wound.

“i’m not an enemy!” you quickly say. “that injury looks bad, i can help. i’ll go get some bandages for you.”

you quickly run back to your cottage, retrieving your satchel of medical supplies before he could say a word. whoever he was, he seemed dangerous. and the faster you help him the quicker he’ll be on his way and the less likely anything else dangerous is led to you. when you return, he’s still there, though he’s propped himself up in a sitting position and leaning back against the stump.

“i don’t need any help.”

“well those wounds look pretty deep. and… you’re the one who ended up near my home, so,” you carefully approach him, heart beating erratically fast in your chest. it felt like you were approaching a predator—a wild animal pretending to be a man. “the faster i help you, the less likely whatever did this to you comes near my garden.”

his gaze stayed trained on you for a moment, piercing into you as you kneel next to him. his eyes were a beautiful shade, yet so strangely unsettling and dull. as you glance at them, it almost appears as no light shines from them at all. he smirks, a strangely amused laugh leaving his lips like he found your assistance to be completely entertaining.

“ah, there’s the motive.”

you ignore him, instead using a cloth to wipe away the blood from the side of his head.

“what’s your name?”

“what’s yours?”

you restrain a sigh, biting back the sarcastic quip you wanted to return and instead reciting your name back to him.

“…gene.”

“nice to meet you… gene. how did you get this hurt? are you…” you glance down at his strange armor and sword. “a guard, our some kind of soldier…?”

he says nothing.

“alright, then,” you clear your throat. “no more questions.”

you finish cleaning his head and neck, where another wound was, and carefully place the healing ointment you made from your own magicks herbs. trying to ignore the strange sense that you needed to run away, you finish up your work by placing bandages over the gashes… that seemed to already be healing pretty quickly. 

“there. you’re set.”

a small, “thanks,” leaves his lips, and the two of you met eyes. he seems to contemplate something, before another huffing out another amused laugh.

“you’re very…naive. you should be careful.”

“…what?”

his hand is suddenly in front of your face, cold fingers touching against the skin of your forehead and dragging down, brushing your eyelids closed. somehow your eyes grow impossibly heavy, your head too much to hold up as you slump over, landing in the arms of ge…

…of…who again?

the birds chirp the next morning as you groggily wake from what felt like a coma of slumber. you feel like there was something important you needed to take care of, but you must’ve fallen asleep early last night. you must’ve been exhausted… you don’t even remember carrying yourself into bed. 

oh, that’s right! you had to help… you had to… what was it you were up to last night?

your slump from where you sit, blinking at the floor in confusion.

it must not have been too important.

𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

it’s terrifying, looking into blood red eyes where iridescent pale blue ones had been before. it had only been a split moment—you two were ambushed, a thief’s sword grazing against your cheek and knocking you backwards in surprise as a whole gang of them emerged from the tree line.

laurance suffered an arrow wound, but before you could panic it wasn’t his blood that soaked the ground… but instead the whole dozen of men who tried to attack you.

you stare horrified as dark red drips from him, unsure if it was his own or from the bodies around him. he’s breathing, so heavily, face turned away from you as he stills in the center of his carnage. a few moments pass like this, your eyes trained cautiously on the dulled shade of caramel hair that lays messily on his head. 

“…laurance?” you call out quietly, your voice barely a timid whisper.

he turns to look at you, eyes red and glazed over as he begins to trudge towards you. something about the dark circles and his paled skin splattered with blood frightened you, your uncertainty heightened by his silence and now much taller frame. he towers over you, breaths heavy and sword still tightly gripped in his hand.

“it’s me!” you shakily yelp, regretting your reaction immediately when he flinches, eyes widening.

“…and i’m me.” he frowns, his larger hand brushing against your injured cheek. “you’re scared of me.”

“…no.”

he stares at you, eyebrows pinched together. he doesn’t call you out on your bluff with words, but the look he gives you is enough.

“i felt that something was off. i should’ve done something sooner.”

“it caught me off guard, too. we’re both tired, so—“

“i’m supposed to protect you. now you’re hurt.”

“it’s only a graze, laurance.” you silence his anger towards himself, your hands reaching up to cup his cheeks. “you’re hurt more than me.”

you reach in your satchel, pulling out some healing ointment and bandages you were sure to pack for the journey. he begins to shake his head, hand engulfing yours as he stops you.

“i’ll heal on my own. you know that shadow knights—“

“this will help you heal faster. and help with the pain.”

he sighs, taking a seat on a nearby rock and complying with your insistence despite the lack of need for it.

there were only a few gashes that were deep enough to not be sealed up immediately, dark red blood oozing from the lacerations. you put your focus on cleaning each one, swiping on the ointment and wrapping the bandages carefully onto his wounds.

when you look back up at his face those calm blue eyes have returned, staring back at you as they dart over your face. he takes the ointment from your hands, and with two fingers he motions for you to come closer.

you do so without much hesitation, allowing his finger to dip into the ointment and dab it across your injured cheek. he lingers his hand there for only a few moments longer, before looking away and putting your things back into your satchel.

“thank you, laurance.”

“stay right next to me,” he looks back up, tone and eyes insistent. “for the rest of the way. okay?”

it’s more of a demand than a request, but you simply nod in agreement, unable to refuse him.

“okay.”

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒

“take your shirt off.” you sigh, sitting next to travis as you dig through your bag.

“woah!” he laughs, a cheeky smirk stretching across his face. “way to be direct.”

you pause, glaring over at him with an unimpressed stare.

“i will add to those injuries. just do it—“

“okay! okay!” he raises his hands up, wincing at the pull of his skin against his wounds. “ow…”

he begins to peel his bloodied tunic from his skin, wincing as he attempts to lift it over his shoulders. you restrain another sigh before you take a glance down at his injuries, instead feeling pitiful at the state he was in. standing in front of him, you help him slide the fabric over his head and off his arms, leaving his whole torso exposed. 

a few previous scars litter across the skin, dipping into different divots of chiseled muscles. he was well built—he had to be for the large claymore he wielded—yet he was still lean, muscles standing out due to the low body fat he had.

“like what you see?” he smirks, catching your gaze that lingered a bit too long on his bare skin. 

“no.”

he flinches at your quick refusal, jutting out his bottom lip.

“ouch, you’re so harsh.”

“why would i like seeing all of these wounds you’re covered in? you’re lucky it wasn’t any worse or you wouldn’t even be conscious right now,” you scold. “what were you thinking?”

“so you were worried about me…” he peeks up at you through his lashes, lips once again turning up in a satisfied smirk.

you roll your eyes, not saying anything as you begin to clean up his wounds. you can never catch a break with this guy, can you? despite his annoying flirtatious jokes, though, you really couldn’t help the worry and care you felt for him. 

he hisses between clenched teeth as you accidentally press against a laceration too harshly, one of his hands reaching up to clasp against your wrist.

“a little more gentle, sweetheart.”

“sorry,” you mutter, shaking your head as you realize what you were thinking.

he doesn’t say anything, instead going quiet as you continue to patch him up. it’s not until you’re dabbing on ointment and healing potions that he speaks up again, his voice strangely soft and unsure.

“you were worried about me, right?”

you pause, glancing down at him. his eyes are strangely… pleading, cool green shining as he searches for an answer on your face. 

you gently place your hand on the back of his head, running your fingers through the soft white strands and pulling him forward and pressing a kiss against his forehead.

“yes, i was. don’t be so reckless next time.”

when you pull away, his cheeks have turned a soft shade of red and his eyes have widened, practically bulging from their sockets. slowly, his jaw opens, mouth gaping as he starts to speak.

“you–”

“shut up.”

©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own.

[sensiblereblogifposts]

A while ago, I posted a petition, to stop the closing of a much loved museum, Syndeys Powerhouse museum, a place that's been under threat for years.

I need your help with this once again, (especially if you are an Aussie)

After years of threatening to close down and demolish our only science, tech and applied arts museum, and one attempt to turn it into an events center, they've come back with another plan, which basically amounts to "we're going to clear out the museum and demolish most of the structures inside. We definitely have a plan to put some cool stuff back, but we can't tell you it, but it's definitely gonna be great. Don't mind that a bunch of purpose built structures to display delicate objects are set to be demolished."

(That's an F1 Apollo rocket engine, very rare outside the USA. Almost 60 years old, now delicate, but it's going.)

"We've garunteed 3 of the most iconic items (not their accompanying collections) will come back. Pay no mind that we haven't allowed for where they're gonna go, or that the one object we can't move (rare, 250 year old working Boulton and Watts steam engine) is set to end up inside a corridor)

(There used to be room, elevated planforms even)

"Oh, also, you know that museum storage hall, so close by and practical, with a loading dock and workshops, that's also sitting on prime real estate? We're building a second loading dock and workshops in the main museum! Right where the all classrooms where!"

It's supposedly a heritage restoration, but in truth, it's based of a skewed heritage report which has been heavily criticised as I'll informed, and rigged to allow the place's removal.

Almost every detail goes against the spirit of the original musuem. The orginal museum was a fun, post modern place with a sciencey vibe,

Which transitioned fluidly into historic halls, with historic products and technology to match

The Musuem has an upper entrance designed to be welcoming, full of natural light, and evoke the feel of an old grand train station. This is to be bricked up.

Rather than restore the older galleries, theyre taking several of them out reducing display space from about 15,000m²ish to about 6000m² ish.

The historic halls included restored generator room filler with steam engines. This really put the museum on the map.

But that's going.

All that is going, in favour of

This kind of thing.

The plan to do this is on display untill end of may May 30th, Aussie time. It would help a lot if you (might be only Australians) log on and make a short comment opposing the project:

A lot more commentary on the project can be found at:

@protecpowerhous on Twitter

Or if you cant make a submission, and still haven't, please sign that petition:

The people reporting to government planning will be see it, and attention helps.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for "using" a cucumber and putting it back in the fridge?

(🥒👌 to find later)

Please, I know it sounds nuts but hear me out. I feel awful and I need to know just how bad this is. Also, I intentionally left as much as possible vague as I am a minor and I do not want this to get removed for being too explicit. But the story will not make sense if I don't include certain things, please understand.

So I (16M) grew up in and currently still live in the bible belt, with extremely conservative evangelical parents. As a taste of what it's like, we have church 3 times a week, and church camp every summer. We are only allowed to access Netflix through a stupid content filter app and we can only use a restricted smart phone that is regularly checked at random by our parents. We get an hour and a half of computer usage every other day, and the internet on the computer is heavily filtered also. The only reason I have access to Tumblr and am able to post this now is because my best friend's older brother gave me his old android for my birthday a few years ago. His family is much more open minded, and I'm very close with them. I also think they have always felt a little bad for me with my family being the way they are.

I'm also gay. Obviously, my family does not know, and I intend to keep it that way. I won't go too deep into it, but it will suffice to say I struggled a lot when I was younger over this. The good thing is that in the last few years, I've been able to accept myself more and come to terms with what my own feelings about religion and faith really are. I came out to my best friend and his brother a little over a year ago, and they've been very supportive. I have yet to tell any of my other friends.

Recently, I've been trying out alcohol since my friends found a hookup. Something I have discovered is that I tend to get lewd feelings when I drink, which has nearly caused a few embarrassing moments around friends. Coincidentally, I have also been experimenting with... certain things. Being a minor, I obviously can't enter any of the adult stores around me, nor would I feel comfortable asking any of my friends to drive me there if I could. I also can't order anything online because my bank account is connected to my parents, and I don't have a shipping address I'm comfortable using for those items either. So instead, I use household objects that belong to me and can be sanitized easily. You might see where this is going.

Yesterday evening, I came home from best friend's house with a full bottle of wine in my backpack. We and a few other friends had already been sipping on a few beers that afternoon, and I still felt a little buzzed. After my family went to sleep, despite already having a little alcohol in my system, I proceeded to get wasted on this bottle of wine in my room. I don't have the clearest memory of all of this, but at some point, I got hungry and lewd-feeling. Went into the kitchen and, through some kind of thought process I can only imagine now, came back into my room with a cucumber. From the title of the post, you can hazard a guess as to what happened to this cucumber. Once I was done, I drukedly and quickly washed it in the bathroom sink and threw it back into the fridge. I went to sleep.

I started freaking out as soon as I woke up this morning. There were four cucumbers in the fridge, I was pretty positive at least two were going to be used for dinner tonight, and I had no idea which cucumber I did the deed with. To make matters worse, my mom was inviting the pastor of our church and his family over for dinner. I have practically no money currently, no license or vehicle, and no friends with vehicles free to pick up new cucumbers for me (and no reasonable explanation as to why I needed them to spot me for four cucumbers specifically). I also have no believable reason to give for why we shouldn't have cucumbers added in the salad mix. My mom knows I love them, and they haven't gone bad. Can't say I ate them because who the hell eats four raw cucumbers? And she'll interrogate both my brother and I until she gets a satisfying answer if I just throw them out. I didn't know what the hell to do about this and I was close to having a panic attack, so... I took a nap.

Evening came. Guests came over, dinner happened. We had porkchops with macaroni and side salads. Cucumbers were in the salad, and I along with pastor's family and my own, ate it like nothing was wrong. My parents, the pastor and his wife had an engaging conversation about politics, religion, and some mild church gossip after dinner. My little brother continued to read his book, and I had a very awkward and one-sided conversation about Young Sheldon with the pastor's daughter. Then they left. And I went to my room to mentally implode.

To say I'm horrified is a major understatement. I don't think anyone is going to get sick because I scrubbed all of the cucumbers with soap multiple times and cleaned the vegetable drawer with bleach when I woke up this morning. I guess I also don't know that the violated cucumber was one of the ones that was used for dinner tonight, but then it's only a matter of days until we have salad again, or if mom cuts one up for water. I've rattled my brain for any way I could get some new cucumbers without telling anyone the details of the event, but I have nothing. Don't even have the money, anyway. Gave up the last bit of cash I had for the damn wine yesterday, and I have $0.43 in total on my debit card.

Admittedly, there is a very small part of me that doesn't even really care if they have eaten or end up eating the damn thing. I can't stand my family. My parents are invasive, controlling and neurotic, and don't give a shit about how I'm doing in so far as it pertains to god and the church. I'm a little more sympathetic to my brother as he's been stuck in this hell with me, but at 13 he's already begun to regurgitate way more religious dogma than I ever did at his age. And I know for a fact that they would want nothing to do with me if they found out I was gay. They'd probably kick me out on the street and spit on me if I had to guess. But even still, this is only a small part of how I feel. What I did was still so gross, and no amount of animosity I have for them can change how mortifed I am. I do have at least a semblance of a conscience.

So...AITA for all of this? WIBTA if I did nothing about the other two cucumbers? Please help.

[uniquexusposts]

This is embarrassing - M. Verstappen (1)

Summary: Y/n is bored at work, a souvenir shop in a ski resort, until Max enters the shop at the last moment. Part two Part three

Y/n leaned against the counter and flipped through the pages of a German tabloid. This had to be the fourth time; she knew every in and out of the magazine now. She wasn't a big fan of tabloids, but when there was nothing to do? A decent thing to fill the time with. Plus, the Germans knew how to gossip. The store she worked in was... Empty. Y/n looked up and let her eyes glide over the stands; everything was filled and cleaned. She looked outside: it was dark, and snowing heavily.

She sighed loudly and straightened her back. For hours, Y/n had avoided the time. But now it must have been late, at least an hour since the last time she checked. It was only ten minutes later than the last time she checked it.

"My goodness," she whispered. Her shift had thirty minutes left, and there was no way, not under any circumstance (well, unless someone dies), that she could close the shop earlier.

For the third time, she took the broom and walked around the store at a slow pace. If this store wasn't part of the resort, she would've been gone a long time ago. It paid well; the hours were decent, it was just quiet after seven o'clock in the evening.

Y/n quickly turned around when someone opened the door. The sound of the wind filled the store, and some snow got blown inside. There. Is. Snow. Inside. I just cleaned everything. Her eyes fell on someone in a bright red ski suit. The face of the visitor was covered with a scarf. A forced smile came on her face. "Good evening," she said.

"Hello," the voice said and walked around the store.

Y/n made her way back to the counter in the front of the store and put away the magazine. It was not like she wasn't happy to see a person, but that person brought in a lot of snow, and the floor was dry and clean. On the other hand, she had a task to do until closing time.

"Hey," she said when the person was standing on the other side of the counter.

"Hey, I will take this." The person placed the items on the counter

She nodded; she thought it was a man. Many people entered the story completely packed, not showing who they were. They would stay for a couple of minutes, so why put everything off and then put everything back on a minute later? "Is it a present?" She scanned the price tags of the hoodie and mug. This person also got some snacks. She let the person pay.

"Yes, please."

"Perfect," she muttered, opening the drawer to look for wrapping paper. "Is it for Christmas, a birthday or just a gift?"

"Christmas. Well, the hoodie and mug."

She nodded and looked into the drawer. She quickly realised that there was no wrapping paper. Not at all. Not for a birthday, not for Christmas and not for any occasion. Y/n pressed her lips into a thin line. She was busy filling the time that she hadn't noticed that the drawer was empty. Plus, no one made a note. Y/n looked up; the man had removed the hood and scarf from his head. Blushes came on her cheeks. She opened her mouth to apologise, but the man had already seen what had happened, and he simply smiled and nodded.

The man had a gentle face, but his eyes said that he was disappointed. He had definitely not intended to come here now.

"It's alright," he said. "I'm sure we'll figure something out."

Y/n nodded and thanked him, not knowing what else to say. She felt embarrassed and ashamed. It was a feeling she would get with anyone, but this was Max Verstappen. He showed calmness, and it didn't seem like he was bothered by the lack of wrapping paper.

"I should have stopped by earlier," he blamed himself.

"No, I mean, we need to have the wrapping paper in stock. It's not your fault," she said, opening some more cabinets under the counter. "Uhm, I have a tote bag?" It was not like she had more choice.

"Okay."

Y/n grabbed some tissue paper and began to pack the gifts, taking extra care to fold them, so they covered each item neatly. Max watched her intently, making sure she didn't miss anything. Y/n could feel her cheeks burn even more; she must look like a tomato now. She put the gifts in the tote bag, folded it and put it in a brown paper bag with the snacks.

"That looks perfect," Max said.

She smiled and thanked him again, feeling the warmth of his approval. She liked the way he accepted the situation and trusted her to handle it.

"It's the thought that counts," he added, and she agreed, feeling that it was true in more ways than one.

The eyes of Y/n fell on the darkness outside. "I will put it in another bag; I don't know if this will survive the snow," she said and put the bag in another bag. "My apologies again."

"It's okay," he replied. "I came here fifteen minutes before closing time, and it can happen."

"Still," she mumbled. "Anyway, here you go."

"Thank you," he politely said. "And do you mind if I wait for another ten minutes? The app says that the wind will be less strong then."

Y/n nodded. "Sure, no problem. Do you want a chair?"

"Sure."

She moved a chair from behind the desk to the guy. "There you go. Do you mind if I'm gonna prepare the store for closing?"

"No, no, absolutely not. Go ahead.”

“Keep an eye on the counter. Make sure no one robs the store,” she chuckled. 

“Can’t promise anything,” Max widely smiled. 

Y/n grabbed the broom and walked through the store again. Once she was out of sight of Max Verstappen, she stopped walking, and her jaw dropped. Tears of excitement covered her sight. Max Verstappen in the store?! And running out of wrapping paper?! She looked up at the talented driver. And if he were someone else, she still would feel embarrassed, but this was Max Verstappen. What must he think of me now?! She dried her eyes and continued walking through the store.

"I like the store," Max Verstappen suddenly said when he saw the young woman walking towards him again. "I walked past it a couple of times this week. Now I had to be here." The store mostly sold souvenirs and gifts but also had basic needs.

"Thank you," Y/n replied. "Are you enjoying your stay here?" The village they were in was part of a ski resort.

"Yes, absolutely. It's fantastic here," he smiled. "Can't get enough from this place. I am here every year, but it doesn't tire me," he shared.

How have I never seen him before?

"I like that this village is not too busy," he continued.

"Yeah, I'm glad it is," she agreed. "Sometimes it's too quiet, but it's better than those resorts where people fight for a bit of space."

"As a guest, I really like it."

"That's good, that is what counts," Y/n smiled.

"Did you have a busy day?"

She slowly nodded. "People who forgot their Christmas present at home."

Max chuckled. "Guilty."

"I reckon tomorrow will be worse, it's Christmas Eve then." She took a deep breath.

"It's always the thing that I thought I packed, but it's never the case. Now my sister gets a hoodie and a coffee mug," he said, being disappointed in himself.

Y/n leaned against the counter. "Yeah, I mean, Christmas is about giving. And they're nice. I love those gifts. It's for a memory. If someone got me a hoodie from a gift shop, I would probably live in it for a couple of days. But that's me."

It made Max think. "My sister is like that too. I think this gift is better than the original." He looked outside and then at his phone. "I think it's safe to go outside. Are you almost off?" Max started to pack himself.

Y/n looked outside; it looked more friendly. Luckily, for her too. "Yeah, I'm closing up, and then I'm going home," she nodded. "Watch out when you go to your accommodation. And happy holidays."

"Thank you, you too," he said, grabbing his gift. "And walk safely."

"I will, thanks."

She watched as he left, the brown paper bag clutched in his arms. She was sure his brother would be pleased, and she was glad she had been able to help him.

Part two

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos@crashingwavesofeuphoria@maryvibess @chocolatefartstrawberry @snzleclerc @ironmaiden1313@blodwyn4u @sltwins @heart-trees