#that it can be kind and healing and helpful | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tealvenetianmask · 2 days ago

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I want to talk about a kind of troubling reaction I've been seeing to both Apology Tour and Ghostfuckers among parts of the fandom. The person is usually a reaction youtuber but sometimes someone writing on tumblr or twitter. They say something along the lines of "oh, I'm glad Blitz is being forced to confront his crimes/traumas/pain. This is the only way he will finally heal."

That's not how healing works.

I know that reaction youtubers don't always have the most developed takes because they're . . . you know . . . reacting in the moment. But I think it's still worth talking about.

I'm going set aside the people who seem to believe that Blitz needs to be punished for his crimes, and address those who genuinely think that getting a tidal wave of his own trauma in his face is what he needs to heal.

There's an attitude in contemporary culture that traumas are something people need to confront. As in, put on a brave face and dive in like a big boy. I blame capitalism, rugged individualism, and all the pieces of media that tie up a character's arc neatly by having them confront their darkest fears and insecurities. It can put a nice bow on things, but it isn't really how healing from trauma works.

Apology Tour:

Blitz gets confronted by a shit ton of people who hate him, at least some of whom are his exes, who he feels he's personally damaged. The decor and party games are all about killing and torturing him. Verosika confronts him about how much he hurt her. Oh, and then he sees the love of his life, who he's just recently pushed away, making out with another guy- proof, in his eyes, that Stolas is happier without him. And this all reflects the underlying fears he already has about who he is as a person (shown to us by Truth Seekers).

So what was the takeaway? Blitz came to the conclusion that he doesn't always want to be like this (good, but like . . . worth this much pain?). He flops on his steering wheel (relatable). He stops trying to reach out to Stolas (uh oh . . . ). He spends A MONTH spiraling in his own misery and making a mess of all aspects of his life until he's dragged out of it by a caring friend.

The party doesn't empower Blitz to change. It knocks him down and fucking traumatizes him (seriously, images of Stolas from the party show up later in his trauma reel) too much for him to be able to do actually work toward said change. I suspect that if left to his own devices, he would have kept spiraling for quite a while longer. It's one thing to want to change, and another to try to do so alone in the aftermath of a pile-on.

Ghostfuckers

After Blitz drags himself out of his hole of cheesy ice cream and despair to "play sex ghosts" (escapism, again, still knocked down by Apology Tour), infester demon Rolando picks him out as an easy target and assaults him, yes, assaults, with horrific images of his worst traumas and fears.

Not to state the obvious, but Rolando isn't interested in helping Blitz heal. He's trying to kill the guy. He wants to engulf Blitz in his trauma to the extent where he's consumed by it and loses the will to fight back. And as some excellent posts by others have pointed out already, he very likely would have succumbed if not for Millie's support.

Millie helps Blitz get through the onslaught by telling him about what makes him great and how he's improved her life and showing him love and care. And by literally beating the fucking infester out of him. Because there's someone in him who's hurting him, who's re-traumatizing him against his will. She takes him away from the reel of horrible memories.

So . . . do I think that confronting traumas can play a role in healing? Sure. But only if it's consensually (which neither of these situations are) and when the person trying to heal is ready. And most likely in small doses. No one's going and successfully confronting every horrible thing that's ever happened to them in one go.

And in my humble opinion, it's not going to work (for anyone, but especially not for Blitz) alone and without a healthy dose of kindness and compassion (both external and internal).

Blitz has a long road ahead of him toward healing, and it's going to be hard work on his part but also require love and support from the people in his life.

In a wonderful moment near the end of Ghosfuckers, Blitz and Millie work together to get Blitz's wrecked van unstuck and push it back through the portal into Hell. I love it because it's so simple and it kind of tells us everything we need to know. This sweet and salty gremlin has a lot of work ahead of him, but he doesn't have to do it alone.

#ghostfuckers #apology tour #blitz #blitzo #blitzo buckzo #millie #rolando #stolitz #verosika #my helluva meta #helluva boss

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mysteria157 · 2 days ago

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Undone

nanami kento x black fem reader

wc- 2.8k

warnings- angst, heavy themes, mental health and healing, the fluff that nanami brings.

a/n: I have been feeling like poo these past few days and trying to find my voice in writing. So I created a little drabble that helped me feel better. hopefully, it does for others as well. happy reading

divider: @saradika | JJK Masterlist

He hasn’t heard from you in days.

Granted, that first date was 12 weeks ago, but Nanami is used to the string of texts between you that is consistently pinging—a feat that Nanami never thought to reach. He’s used to the late night phone calls, the FaceTimes that are meaningless because he just wants to look at you. But for the first time, you turned him down.

Three days ago, on the morning of a nice dinner he had planned, you called with a scratchy voice, “I’m just really tired today, but I’ll be shipshape in no time!” You had insisted.

With vigilance sewn into his body since the day he could remember, Nanami notices right away something is wrong. Maybe it was the distant crack of your words. Maybe it was the fact that you cleared your throat once, no—two times to make yourself sound as professional as possible. As if Nanami is an employer and not the man you’ve decided to let into his life.

Regardless, he was as polite as always. Content to change the subject and send you well wishes before hanging up. The meme texted to his phone five minutes later, sweetening whatever sour concoction had manifested in his belly from your phone call. But still…Nanami knows. So he waits.

He waits three days of agonizing silence before a maelstrom of worry finally claws its way to the surface of his pool of impassivity. He stops by the market first and grabs ingredients. There’s a soup recipe you love—a recipe he soaked up like a sponge as he hovered near you in your kitchen during your first date. He’ll make that.

On his way out of the market, his eyes catch a bouquet of Asian lilies. Sunset orange petals adorned with long dark stamen. He picks up a modest bouquet—something large enough to make you smile every time you see them, but not too much to make you sneeze from your allergies.

It’s 6:47 PM when Nanami’s shoes touch your welcome mat. Even as his eyes trace the tawny ‘Welcome!’ made of coir, he can feel the unease wafting from behind your closed door. Your spare key rests in his closed hand, the metal digging into his palm in a silent question. You insisted that it wasn’t too soon in the relationship for this, to have access to each other in this way. After all, finally opening his heart to love after keeping it locked behind the demands of work, Nanami wanted to take things slowly. But you had other plans—you always do. And now, Nanami is glad to have relented so quickly when you gave him the spare key two weeks ago.

You’re a tidy person, meticulous to a fault. So it’s easy for him to spot the littering of disarray. The curtains are drawn tight, casting your home into darkness. A trail of clothes starts from the door and trails to your room. There are dirty dishes in your sink—you hate going to bed with a messy kitchen. The air is permeable—a physical being that Nanami can see the particles as they float and scurry with his movements through your home.

He finds you in your room, a tornado of dirty clothes and empty takeout containers, three blankets deep, with only the top of your hair visible. The air is just as stale in here—heavy with the kind of silence that comes to life from too many hours alone with dark thoughts. Your phone lies on your nightstand, face-down, notifications from others probably neglected along with Nanami’s. He hates the sight, angry at whatever malevolent force that’s decided to torment you, and now he fights it.

The rustle of Nanami setting his things down makes you stir, the lump of covers oscillating with your movements as a flash of your melanin-rich skin pokes from the dark hole where you reside. Your eyes meet his—surprised, alarmed, and immediately angry.

“Get out,” you snap, your voice gravelly from disuse. Through the curtain of your textured hair, Nanami catches a sliver of your icy gaze, foggy with the heaviness he can smell in the room. He takes a step closer, and it’s a step too far. Your tired eyes widen with a simmering fury that makes Nanami think twice.

“Why can’t you listen?! You can’t be here…” you stop short, squeezing the covers around your already decaying form like a lifeline. “Not when I’m—like this.”

He takes another cautious step—your eyes narrow, a weak challenge—then another until he sits at the edge of your bed. The dip from his weight causes your feet to curve into the cavern, toes touching his thighs from beneath your covers.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

The still air seems to vibrate from your fury, dust motes zipping haphazardly as if being pulled back and forth by an invisible force.

“Call you? Call you?? So you could see this? So you could see how I can’t even—“A lump of confusion and rage dies in your throat, the sound gurgling like a sewage pipe. His hands clasp the blanket that covers your shoulders, pulling you up gently with no resistance. You want to smack his hands away, to yell at him to leave and never come back. Because you’re not ready for him to see you like this. Not yet.

But despite the bark of your bite, you’re exhausted—mentally and physically.

“I wanted to wait a few weeks,” you ramble, eyes turned away from him as you shiver from the cold air on your exposed upper half. You’re still wearing the same shirt from three days ago when you called Nanami to cancel; your eyes had already been filled with tears, your throat suffocating beneath torrential thoughts and negativity that springs to life when you least expect it.

“No one wants to see this so soon.”

“From that statement alone, I’m going to assume the men you dated before were below average in all respects.”

“Everyone expects some grandiose gesture to make all of…this go away. And it’s not that fucking simple.” You don’t acknowledge his assessment. Still rambling, still trying to push him away even as he stands. He pulls you up with him with a firm grip still on your shoulders, his care poking at your defenses with inquisitive fingers.

Your knees buckle, threatening to give out without the reassurance of his hold. Your rambling falls to the wayside, fading into the air around you as you finally comprehend your new position in front of him. Standing for the first time in days, the strength of his hands radiates warmth down to your toes. The room falls quiet, opening its ears to your uneven breathing and the smell of tears.

One beat. Two beats. Three.

“It seems you’re standing now,” he says simply, the low crooning timbre of his voice wafting over your face. You heave in a stuttering breath, suck down his air, and let it fill you from the inside with care you’ve neglected. Nanami doesn’t leave his words open for discussion. There is no question hidden in his matter-of-face statement. There is no undercurrent of judgment.

“A bath.”

“What? Kento—no. I don’t need—I don’t deserve—“ His hand slides from your shoulder to cup your cheek, silencing you with its warmth. You resist leaning into his touch, too embarrassed that he can see you like this—stinky, tired, so utterly crestfallen that you can barely function.

“I’ll draw you a bath. I’ll make you dinner. And once I’m sure you’re at least full and clean, then I’ll go. Until you’re ready for me again.”

Steam rises around you in the bathroom, carrying eucalyptus and lavender from the bath oils you like to indulge in on a terrible day like this one. You draw your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around your limbs to bury your head in the gap it creates. Your eyes catch the water droplets on your skin, hydrophobic and suspended in time before sliding into the bath water.

When you turn your head to the side, you catch your living room from the open door. He’s cleaned up—opened the curtains, picked up the laundry, and vacuumed the floors. One of your candles burns bright, the low whir of your washing machine sashaying through the apartment. All things you just haven’t had the energy to do.

It started off small, it always does. One thought—fleeting and infinitesimal—but still heavy with a nervousness that plants in your mind like a maggot, burrowing its way through the meat. Your symptoms are more anxious thoughts, more poor remarks of yourself, more he’s successful who are you kidding? More maybe they don’t like you, why can’t you see that? More once Kento sees this side of you, he’ll never want you again.

More, more, more even though those thoughts hold little evidence to prove true. But for you, those maggots burrow until there is nothing left of you but a hollow shell, a husk that has no choice and no energy but to lay down in bed and sleep the days away until the meat heals again.

Beneath the steam, you can spell the mix of thyme, peeled tomatoes, and garlic. The tomato soup you showed him how to make on your first date. He was inquisitive, watching silently, his eyes falling on yours too often to take good notes. Now, it’s another show of this man you’re growing to love, crafting something for you with his own hands, affection beneath the veil of reservation that he shows everyone else.

It’s too much for you. The tears come quietly, spilling down your cheeks and into the bath water, polluting the love that was used to create it.

You hear his footsteps, padded feet on your now clean floor as he walks into the bathroom and takes in the sight of you. You blink against the rush of embarrassment, too tired to wipe the tears away, too tired to hide a vulnerability you wanted to keep a lid on for awhile longer.

He walks to your sink, gathering product, a hair bottle, and a wide-toothed comb before coming back to you. He kneels beside the tub and rolls up his navy sleeves without ceremony, pinching off his glasses before he sets them on the floor. He’s soft but efficient in the way he rubs your bar soap on your loofah, getting it nice and sudsy. He’s relaxed but observant—his tie loosened but not completely off, his forearms flexing with quelled strength as he washes your back and shoulders, the slight furrow of concentration in his brows as he measures his next words.

“Strawberry and cream cheese danishes.”

“Hm?”

“If I eat one, I’ll want more. So I try to stay away when I can.” Nanami continues, washing the soap off your shoulders before he hands you the loofah. You take it without question, watching him disappear to sit behind you as you wash your limbs.

“After Yu…I would bury my sorrow in work. I worked and worked and worked until my boss forced me to take time off. It’s a sneaky sickness. It likes to watch over you and strike the very moment your guard is down.”

You hear the squeeze of your hair bottle behind you, your snarled strands soaking with rosemary-scented mist in his gentle fingers.

“It’s been years. But when it does hit, that darkness that seems to strangle me and tell me that I should have tried harder, that I should have protected him….I like to go across the street from my home and get a strawberry and cream cheese danish.”

You know Nanami has a sweet tooth. You’ve seen the way his eyes light up from the pies that you like to make, always bringing him a slice to work. You’ve seen the sidelong glance he gives strudel that steams behind glass display cases at the bakery he takes you to. But to imagine him leaving his apartment in the dead of night, wrinkled clothes and bags beneath his eyes, not showered in days—paying for a danish…you hitch a breath, a chuckle squeaking and dying in your throat with a painful lurch.

“Why are you laughing?” He admonishes. You can practically feel the lifted brow and gentle smile on your back. Your skin tingles with the movement of his fingers as he works them through your hair, detangling with rosemary and leave-in conditioner

“Do you buy the three-pack?”

Silence. A pause in your hair before baby hairs flutter from the puff of air he shoots out. You bite your lip to keep the dry smile from forming.

“No,” he lies, playfully.

The heaviness in the air gives way to a light current of brightness from your fleeting smile, from the smell of the tub, and your hair now detangled and loose before shrinkage claims it.

“I’m not sure what’s compelled you to think there’s a proper time to tell me that your thoughts grow dark at random moments in your life. Now, two months from now, it doesn’t matter. I love you.”

The declaration wraps around you, sliding down your ajar mouth and curdling in your lungs with certainty, taking root in the muscle for the foreseeable future.

“And if it is alright,” he continues, carding his fingers through your hair to plait it into a single braid. “I would like to love every part of you. Even the parts you try to hide. The parts that make you think that you’re not good enough—for me, or your friends, or anyone else. If anything, being able to be here, right now, is a privilege I’ll cherish.”

When the fresh tears spill over again, they no longer taint the water you soak in. They cleanse, collecting and filtering away the depression and anxiety that claims so much of your life when you least expect it.

After, when you’re clean and smelling of Shea butter that Nanami slathered you in, you sink into your now clutter-free sofa. The exhaustion settles on your bones in a different way. Well earned after a long battle instead of invasive and unasked for.

Your eyes rest on the lovely bouquet of Asian lilies on your coffee table, fresh with stems cut, curling toward you with open petals so you can see the beauty inside. The gesture fills you with more of that feeling, of love that you never imagined to come so soon with a man like him.

Nanami walks around the sofa, a tray that he sets in front of you carrying his own rendition of your tomato soup, toasted sourdough grilled cheese, and a tall glass of water.

“Extra basil?” You ask, lips wobbly around a smile as you take in another form of his adoration that you’ll have forever if he allows it.

“Extra basil.”

When he returns with his own tray, his hair falling over his eyes in a heap of hard work, he offers you a look. A measured look that’s filled with everything he wants to give, an excitement in his warm brown eyes that you can’t wait to see more of. But it’s shrouded in a gentle reservation with gaps only visible to you. Soft smiles for you. Loving touches for you. A beacon in storms that brew seemingly out of nowhere just for you.

He leans forward and brushes his lips against your forehead, a safe place where he can take some part of you while you heal. But you’d like more. So you tilt your head for him, soaking the warmth from his lips that press against yours softly.

Suddenly, your worries, your dark thoughts, your misery that you let keep you beneath your blankets for days all smoothed over from his touch. Satiated until those maggots in your mind wiggle to life again when they’re hungry.

“Marcus didn’t give a rose to Janine.” He says casually as he draws back to his side and turns on the TV, nonchalant as if he didn’t just spend the evening putting you back together with gentle hands and quiet love.

You relax into his side, looking at his arm with teary eyes as he rests it on the couch behind you, offering a blanket of comfort and safety that you haven’t had in a long time.

“Gojo spoiled it,” Nanami continues, grumbling and annoyed at the two syllables of Gojo’s name touching his tongue. He blows at his spoon of soup, eyes locked on the screen, his sharp features colored with flickering blues and reds.

He notices your stillness—of course, he notices—and offers you another kiss on your cheek before turning back to the show.

“I’ll steal his kikufuku as punishment,” you offer, arm shaking with the gentle chuckle he gives in response.

The soup steams in your hands, your hair soft and braided, your body worshiped and clean, Nanami’s heartbeat permeable beneath his clothes as you sink into him and sip your delicious soup.

For the first time in years, you know when the world feels heavy, he’ll be able to lift that weight off of you before it buries you away.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento #jjk x reader #kento nanami #nanami kento x reader #jjk fanfic #drabble #mysteria writes #black reader #nanami kento x black fem reader #angst #fluff #jjk angst #jjk fluff #mental healing #jujutsu kaisen nanami kento #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento x you

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cazshmere · 9 hours ago

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12th House Sign in the Natal Chart and How you can Heal and Find Closure from Past Wounds 🩵

materialist🔖

DISCLAIMER : healing is a journey, not a destination, and everyone moves at their own pace. these tips are here to give you a nudge, not to create pressure or perfection. if you’re reading this and some things resonate, that’s wonderful :) take what feels right and leave the rest. and remember, there’s no one right way to heal or find closure. it’s okay to stumble, feel lost, or take a break. trust that every small step forward, even the tiniest ones, are part of the process. be kind to yourself along the way; you’re doing the best you can 🩵

🧩 aries in the 12th house

1. you’re bold in action, but sometimes hesitant in introspection. reflect on fears you might avoid and tackle them directly, like you would any challenge.

2. pent-up frustrations weigh on your subconscious. try activities like boxing, painting, or writing letters you’ll never send.

3. give yourself time alone without needing constant action. Silence and stillness help you get in touch with buried emotions.

4. reflect on times you acted quickly and accept that growth often means making mistakes.

5. indulge in something silly, like playing a game or watching cartoons. It helps you reconnect with yourself. watching your comfort movie with your favourite snacks will surely help

HEALING TIP : try journaling with a twist : write letters to yourself from different ages, like your 5-year-old self or your future self, to see your emotions from new perspectives. this could be super cathartic for you and help you move through the hard feelings holding you back also try meditation that is targeted towards inner peace

🧩 taurus in the 12th house

1. learn to release your hold on past pain. Healing for you often means loosening your grip on comfort zones, even in memories.

2. reflect on areas where you’ve felt unappreciated, finding self-worth from within rather than external validation.

3. you resist change, so make small, gradual adjustments to your daily life that invite healing over time.

4. practice acceptance of things you cannot control or predict; even small, symbolic acts like letting go of a token can help.

5. revisit an old hobby that once brought you joy, like gardening, knitting, or cooking. it’ll remind you of your inner peace.

HEALING TIP : try a sensory grounding exercise: touch something soft, listen to calming music, and smell something grounding like lavender to soothe your mind and body. also something that can temporarily help is watching a super scary movie or just eating spicy food, it can help you distract yourself from your thoughts, at least momentarily

🧩 gemini in the 12th house

1. your mind runs fast, but your 12th house challenges you to slow down and acknowledge buried insecurities.

2. release old narratives, whether it’s past gossip, harsh words, or regrets, let go of thoughts that weigh you down. Practice rephrasing past stories with kindness.

3. try creative outlets that let you express emotions without words, like art or dance, to connect with deeper feelings.

4. when you socialize, make time for connections that feel supportive and honest, without intellectual posturing.

5. quieting your inner monologue helps you access the quiet truths below the surface. Breathing exercises can help here.

HEALING TIP : try recording voice memos on your phone when you feel overwhelmed. Sometimes saying things out loud can help you make sense of them faster than writing.

🧩 cancer in the 12th house

1. you tend to tuck away your deepest fears. Make time to reflect on past emotions without judgment or the need to ‘fix’ them.

2. address any unconscious attachment to people or situations that no longer serve you, knowing it’s okay to need change.

3. offer compassion to yourself, revisit times when you felt misunderstood or unsupported, and give your younger self the love they needed.

4. learn to let go without feeling abandoned. Spend time nurturing your sense of self apart from your relationships.

5. forgive old wounds, allow yourself to release grudges or hurts, understanding that they don’t define your future connections.

HEALING TIP : write a letter to someone from your past you’ve never fully moved on from, then release it (you don’t have to send it).

🧩 leo in the 12th house

1. step back from needing validation, explore who you are outside of praise or recognition. spend time with yourself, just being rather than performing.

2. acknowledge areas where you might have felt rejected or unappreciated. practice self-love that doesn’t rely on others’ feedback.

3. try activities where you’re a beginner. learning something new can help you find power in vulnerability.

4. let go of ego-driven fears, focus on what makes you feel genuinely fulfilled, not just admired. reframe your goals around personal joy rather than approval.

5. reclaim your authenticity by exploring what brings you joy outside of an audience, like a private creative hobby that brings you peace.

HEALING TIP : try visualising your inner child, close your eyes and picture yourself as a child full of hope and joy, and send love to that younger version of you.

🧩 virgo in the 12th house

1. acknowledge that some things don’t need fixing. practice letting go without feeling the need to control every detail.

2. practice self-compassion, allow room for mistakes and honor your efforts without focusing solely on flaws. embrace your progress, not perfection.

3. stop overanalyzing (ik it’s hard but your overthinking is what causes majority of your problems, the more you overthink the more power you’re giving to those unwanted thoughts) give your mind permission to take a break. activities like meditative gardening or painting can help soothe the inner critic.

4. connect with your intuition, trust your instincts rather than rationalizing everything. allow yourself to simply “know” without overthinking it.

5. embrace the chaos haha, let things be messy or spontaneous without judgment. Flexibility helps you grow beyond rigid expectations.

HEALING TIP : try writing a list of what you’re grateful for, it's a simple but powerful tool to shift your focus from worries to abundance.

🧩 libra in the 12th house

1. find comfort in solitude, learn to enjoy your own company, separate from others’ opinions or companionship. practice inner peace.

2. let go of past people-pleasing, allow yourself to address buried feelings of resentment that may stem from overextending for others.

3. balance your inner harmony, focus on inner alignment rather than external harmony. Journaling or meditating on your needs helps you center.

4. heal relationship wounds, reflect on past connections that left an impact. release blame, knowing each taught you something valuable.

5. set boundaries with yourself, give yourself permission to say “no” without guilt. embrace your inner balance, free from others’ demands.

HEALING TIP : you can try a heart-centered meditation to connect with self-love and release neediness for outside validation or try a balance-focused yoga routine, it can be both grounding and soothing, helping you connect with your inner equilibrium.

🧩 scorpio in the 12th house

1. embrace your emotional vulnerability, lean into your feelings without fearing loss or control. Sharing emotions helps relieve hidden weight.

2. release grudges (ik this is something hard for you but letting go is better than holding on to the things that cause you problems - forgive but don’t forget perhaps), practice forgiveness as a way of releasing old hurts that drain you.

3. face your darkest worries with courage, knowing they don’t define you. Write them down and let them go.

4. reclaim personal power, you’re literally THAT bitch don’t forget that queen, focus on how you can empower yourself from within, instead of seeking control externally.

5. trust others with your feelings when it feels right; vulnerability can be deeply healing.

HEALING TIP : you can try shadow journaling by exploring both light and dark thoughts to understand yourself more deeply or if you want something fun instead try listening to a mystery podcast or an immersive story app where you can dive into thrilling narratives. this helps you tap into your emotional depth while being entertained, offering healing through mystery and intrigue.

🧩 sagittarius in the 12th house

1. look inward for meaning, sometimes answers lie within, not in new experiences. find fulfillment in self-reflection rather than escapism.

2. explore spiritual grounding, sagittarius craves meaning, so find practices that connect you to a sense of purpose, like guided meditation.

3. release judgment and let go of self-criticism about past “mistakes.” accept that growth is a journey, not a fixed outcome.

4. embrace introspection by giving your adventurous mind permission to slow down and find contentment in stillness.

5. cultivate patience please (so so important) you may be prone to quick fixes; practice patience with yourself and your journey to healing.

HEALING TIP : start a personal travel vlog (even if it's just to document your local adventures) or use digital journaling apps to record your thoughts, dreams, and philosophical insights. It’ll allow you to process your emotions while in a fun way <3

🧩 capricorn in the 12th house

1. release pressure to always be “on”, let go of needing to achieve every moment. It’s okay to just “be” sometimes, without a goal in sight.

2. forgive your past mistakes, address any old guilt you’re holding onto. you’re allowed to grow beyond your old decisions and learn without punishment.

3. embrace vulnerability (very important) being open about your feelings doesn’t weaken you; it strengthens your ability to understand and trust yourself.

4. trust life’s timing, not everything has to be perfectly planned. lean into moments of uncertainty and find peace in simply experiencing.

5. reflect on your worth beyond productivity, spend time exploring who you are outside of what you “do” or “produce.”

HEALING TIP : try weekly self-check-ins to connect with your needs and desires, away from the hustle of daily demands.

🧩 aquarius in the 12th house

1. embrace your quirks and shadows, you have a unique mind, so allow yourself to be different even in your struggles. reflect on hidden fears and accept them.

2. let go of needing to understand everything, release the need to overanalyze or intellectualize every emotion; trust that some things are just felt, not solved.

3. balance independence with connection, don’t isolate yourself too much. healing also comes through genuine human connections.

4. explore spontaneous introspection, give yourself the freedom to meditate or journal in unconventional ways, like painting or singing.

5. lean into self-compassion, you may be hard on yourself for being “too different” or processing wounds and hurts “differently” but learn to embrace that unique perspective as your strength.

HEALING TIP : try creative expression exercises that bring your thoughts to life, like freeform art, dance, editing, posting stuff online (blogs, reels etch) or sound journaling helps too.

🧩 pisces in the 12th house

1. set healthy boundaries with emotions, your empathy can pull you into others’ feelings. spend time differentiating between your own emotions and theirs.

2. give yourself closure without finality, understand that sometimes closure isn’t perfect or neat, and let go of needing every question answered.

3. create a soothing retreat, build a healing environment, like a cozy corner or blanket fort lmao, where you can escape and connect with your inner peace.

4. release victim mentality, move beyond past hardships by reclaiming your personal power and seeing yourself as a survivor, not a sufferer.

5. TRUST. YOUR. INTUITION. you’re naturally in touch with the unseen. lean into that gift by tuning into your feelings without judgment.

HEALING TIP : create a healing playlist filled with calming music, or even soothing ASMR sounds, to help you unwind and feel safe in your own space.

banner & pic credits to the rightful owners <3

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pandora-writes-one-piece · 1 day ago

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The Meet Cute - Law's Story - 15

Source for pic

The Great Pretender 15

Word Count: 3499

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Law is a soft dom; you have bratty tendencies (not all the time); voice kink; praise kink; cursing; very suggestive behaviour and innuendo from the start; sexual tension; teasing; so much flirting; romance; slow-burn; fluff; slight angst; mature audiences (though explicit NSFW moments will be properly tagged on the chapter); possessive Law; protective Law; soft Law; teasing Law; manipulative Doflamingo; inappropriate Doflamingo; fake relationship trope; only one-bed trope; reader has some anxiety issues; reader is a control freak and perfectionist; modern day AU; Mention of ex mentally abusive relationship;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Law (your father's doctor) start to build a flirty friendship because of your father’s procedure. So much so that when he’s invited to Baby 5’s wedding (his cousin), he asks you to be his date. His uncle Doflamingo - who is filthy rich - is very adamant on finding a suitable wife for him. Seeing as he wants to avoid that, he asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for the weekend.

Notes: Do forgive me for the small chapter... *sigh*

“Cariño, having fun?”

Shit.

“Sir?” You ask, feigning innocence.

“Don’t pretend, darling, it doesn’t suit you.” Doffy takes a step forward, towering over you in an intimidating manner. He has an unsettling grin on his lips and the usual glint in his red eyes. “You and my nephew? You can’t hide that pretty glow.” He purrs and you flush deeper. “Too bad that this time I didn’t get to hear any of your pretty noises…”

Doflamingo keeps circling you as if you were prey. His eyes locked on your form, noticing any shiver, any tremble, any kind of movement that might give anything away. “Of course, we can remedy that, mi querida. Anytime you want.” He leans down, his breath warm against your ear. “You see, while my dear nephew might have advised you to keep quiet, pretending to be sneaky, I would prefer to hear you scream my name loud and clear so every guest knew what I was doing to you and how much you were enjoying it.”

You take a step back, your breath hitching in your throat as your hands clench into fists. “That’s utterly inappropriate, Sir.” Then you try to move forward to get away from his clutches, but he towers over you again.

“That’s not what you want? Because I can figure out what it is.” Cocking his head to the side, he hums lightly, one finger pressed against his lips as if he’s in deep thought. “Is it power, then? Because I can make sure you’re in all the right circles, rubbing shoulders with anyone who matters.”

You stiffen at the implication. He’s trying to fish for information again. You just have to keep steady, there’s nothing to hide. Nothing except the agonising rhythm of your heart, your anxiety clawing its way up your throat, scratching it and making it hard to speak.

“No? Influence, then? I know all the right people. You’d never have to feel unnoticed again.” Raising your chin, you meet his gaze with defiance, showing more bravado than you actually possess. “Money? It has to be money. I can offer you a lifestyle beyond your wildest imagination: beach houses, penthouses, luxury cars, designer clothes… all yours.”

“I don’t want any of that, Doflamingo, Sir.” Your voice shakes a little and you curse under your breath. Doffy caught you at a vulnerable state and you’re still too addled for this to be a fair battle of wits.

“So it’s just the thrill of it?” Doffy starts to circle you again, one of his fingers running along a strand of hair, and you hold your breath. “You are so hard to read, princesa, so, so hard. When I think I have you figured out, you sweep the rug from under me.” He tuts and stops, chin resting on his knuckles, a pensive expression on his face as he looks at you.

“Then there’s Vinsmoke Ichiji. I mean,” he scoffs, “I get why you left him, he’s an asshole. What I don’t get is why you were with him for four years. It just doesn’t add up. What did he give you? What did you gain from that relationship?”

Heartache? Trauma? Pain?

“And what do you want from Law?” Doflamingo almost growls, the smirk now gone, replaced by a frown as he leans down, his face mere inches from yours. “Because I know you weren’t together before this weekend. You weren’t dating.” He raises his hand to stop the words that are about to leave your lips - a weak denial, actually - and he continues. “Don’t deny it, princesa, once again, it doesn’t suit you. I investigated this, whatever you two have, and it happened this weekend. But I want to know why. What do you want from Law?”

You decide not to answer him. Your heart seems ready to jump out of your chest at a moment’s notice, and you’re more flustered now than you were after your little escapade with Law.

“It’s okay, I’ll figure you out, one way or another. You won’t get what you want. I will find out just what makes you tick, and then you’ll fold. They all do.” Doffy’s words are menacing and ominous, sending a cold shiver down your spine.

“I’m not hiding anything. I am who I am, and Law and I are together because we care about each other. I am not a puzzle waiting to be solved.” The words leave your lips through clenched teeth. Hard-edged, shaky and defiant, leaving you breathless with the effort of keeping steady.

“Oh, cariño, but you are.” He caresses your cheek, making you hiss and step back. “I will solve you. Don’t worry.” His laugh follows him down the corridor until he disappears around the corner, a hand in the air waving goodbye as you try to catch your breath and calm your unsteady heart.

-*-

You run into Law as you decide to go to the bathroom instead of heading towards the reception area. You’re so deep in your own head that you nearly stumble into him.

“Hey, hey, sweetheart, what's going on?”

With a frustrated grunt, you tell him about your encounter with his uncle. “So now we know he knows, plus Ichiji is here, and I’m feeling more and more trapped, Law.” You sigh. “It’s like Doffy won’t relent until he breaks us apart.” Your trembling hands clutch the lapels of Law’s jacket. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Law never wavers. His cool, controlled persona manages to calm your irrational fears and delusions as he brings you closer to him. Amber eyes piercing straight into your soul, keeping you tethered as your lack of control sends you spiralling further away from reality.

“Sweetheart, you won’t lose me.” Law kisses your temple softly. “So what if Doffy knows we weren’t together before? Let him believe what he wants, we’re together now, and we’re leaving tomorrow. Nothing he says or does will keep us apart. Okay?”

You nod, and Law sighs, his arms enveloping you in a cocoon of safety. “I should’ve never brought you here. I’m sorry. I knew my uncle was… extra, and I still subjected you to this.”

“Don’t say that.” Your whisper almost gets lost in the confines of his vest, where you have your head buried. “If you hadn’t asked me to do this, ‘we’ might not have happened.”

Law’s chuckle is quite cocksure. “Trust me, sweetheart, ‘we’ would’ve happened. One way or another.” You blush as a smile finally creeps its way onto your lips. The warmth in your chest expanding and taking hold of you. He seems so certain of the possibility of you two as a couple, like nothing could ever stand in your way. It's heartwarming.

It would be so easy… just open your lips and say it: I love you. It’s not that hard. You’re not ripping out a piece of your soul, even if the last person you uttered those words to completely destroyed you.

Law is special.

Just say it.

Say it.

Law cups your cheek and tilts your head so you can face him. “Let’s go back? Get this wedding over and done with so we can finally go home?” You nod, teetering between the lines of the bitter and the sweet. Your words seem trapped, lodged in your throat, held ransom by deep-seated trauma. And yet, you know that you’ve never loved like you love Law. And you know it’s a feeling that will only continue to expand and grow.

But the words remain imprisoned.

-*-

The cake has been cut, the bouquet tossed and the remainder of the night seems to have cooled off all of Doffy’s and Ichiji’s attempts to disrupt your newfound peace. Just another hour or two before you and Law can retire to your room, and then this whole nightmare will be over.

So the dream can finally begin.

It might be silly, since you’re still at the beginning of the relationship, but perhaps because of the romantic vibe of the wedding, you can’t help but think about what your next steps will be. You’ll date, obviously, because you never properly did that; you’ll spend a lot of time together; and then… maybe you can think about living together. Give ‘domestic’ another chance.

You and Law at at the table, resting your feet after standing in heels all day and he’s in the middle of promising you a very long massage once you’re back in your room. His lips hover over your ear as his fingers trace your thigh with a feather-light touch.

“I’m very good with anatomy, you know. I’m a doctor.” He teases, and you giggle, your eyes fixed on his. “I’ll start with your feet - I’m familiar with a lot of acupuncture pressure points, and some of them might bring you interesting sensations - then I’ll climb to your calves, knees…” His fingers trail up your thigh, his gaze mischievous. “Thigh… inner thigh…”

“And…?” You ask, breathless.

Law kisses your face, then your jawline as you turn, letting him catch your lips in a tender kiss. “And I can’t disclose the rest of my plan. I’ll keep it a surprise. I want to hear every little startled gasp that leaves your lips.”

A small chuckle makes your chest tremble. “You tease.”

From the corner of your eye, you can see Baby 5 and Sai approaching. They’ve been making rounds to all tables, thanking guests for coming and bestowing little gifts to them as a thank you. Law notices her approaching too, and he leans back slightly, his hand leaving your thigh and with it an empty feeling.

“Soon, sweetheart.”

“Dear cousin!” Baby 5 smiles as Sai holds out a wicker basket of small gifts. “Oh, honey, there aren’t any more of those little whiskey bottles. Could you grab more?” She bats her lashes, and Sai complies, leaving her to engage in small talk with you and Law while he retrieves the gift. “Are you enjoying the wedding?”

She actually seems like she’s glowing from all the happiness. You nod excitedly while Law teases her, saying he’s attended better weddings. They banter a little, and you find yourself relaxing some more, hoping the night continues without any more hiccups.

Except, as usual, things don’t go according to plan.

“Oh, I had no idea your girlfriend knew Sai’s groomsman, Ichiji! It all turned out perfectly after all, right?” She says your name and smiles. A pinch of dread twists in your stomach as she turns to the side and waves someone over. It’s Ichiji.

You and Law immediately straighten up in your seats, your relaxed state long forgotten. His arm settles on the back of your chair protectively.

“Ichiji, hi! I was just commenting on how remarkable it is that you two already knew each other. Doesn’t it make things easier?” Ichiji’s smirk reveals his canines, almost as if he’s a predator locking onto his prey, his intense gaze never leaving you.

“Indeed. So remarkable. You know, Baby 5, we go waaaay back.” Ichiji’s stance speaks of provocation, and Law straightens further, his arm brushing your shoulders as you clutch your drink tighter, your jaw locking and legs bouncing restlessly. “Don’t we, Doll?”

Your breath hitches, and you don’t look back at him, but Baby 5 doesn’t seem to sense your discomfort.

“Oh, how fun! You two must have some great stories to share, no? How’d you two meet?” Closing your eyes and holding your breath, you just will this moment to come to an end. Perhaps if you pray hard enough, Sai will come back with the gifts, and the bride and groom can go on their merry way.

Even without looking, you can feel Ichiji’s smugness as he slowly sips his drink. “We met in college. Those days were wild… the stories we could tell…”

“I don’t think anybody wants to listen to that, Vinsmoke.” Law’s voice cuts as sharp as a knife, though he has perfect control over its tone.

“Oh, come on, Trafalgar. I’m sure she didn’t share everything. Isn’t there anything you want to know about her wild days in college?” Memories come rushing back, and most of them are painful and demeaning. It seems that, even if there were some good moments at the start of your relationship with Ichiji, they were all drowned when he tainted everything with his manipulation and cruelty.

Your breath comes out in shaky gasps, and Law’s hand rubs soothing circles on your shoulder blade. “She told me all I need to know. Even if she didn’t, there’s nothing you can say that will interest me.” Law’s words are delivered with more calm and ice than you’ve ever heard from him, but there’s also an undercurrent of danger pulsating beneath. His protective instincts are kicking in, and you can sense him itching to act on it.

Baby 5 keeps smiling, though it seems a little strained now that she senses some sort of tension between the three of you. “Wait… I don’t understand. Were you two…?” She trails off, her eyes darting from Ichiji’s smug look to Law’s protective stance, then to your cowering form. Her brows raise in slow realisation and Ichiji interjects.

“Yes. We were in love, once. Engaged to be married, even. Small world, indeed, isn’t that right, Doll?”

You squirm in your seat, and Baby 5’s expression shifts to horror. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” Her gaze keeps darting between Law and yours. “I didn’t know! I never meant to make things awkward!” She laces her arm through Ichiji’s trying to drag him away from the scene, but he doesn’t budge.

“What do you mean, awkward? Not at all! We were just planning our future together, laying the foundations for our dream life. We were even discussing kids, right?” You can’t help it, your gaze falls back on his as all the colour drains from your face. How dare he?

You can barely breathe. The air is stifling, the heat overwhelming and the memories don’t stop. The word ‘Doll’ resounds in your head over and over as do his lies and manipulations. The clenching of your chest at how he made you feel, the powerlessness you had and all the power he held over you.

It’s too much.

All colours start to blur together, the room spins as you try to catch your breath, anxiety kicking in. In a second Law is up on his feet, pulling you up by the hand and supporting your weight against him.

He pins Ichiji in his cold gaze and practically snarls, his control slipping. “I warned you to stay the fuck away, Vinsmoke.”

Baby 5 looks mortified, she keeps trying to pull Ichiji but Law is already ushering you away from the table since you seem unable to do much more than stand. “Ichiji, let’s go, please. I didn’t know! I’m sorry.”

“Oh, come on, Baby 5. Don’t worry, we were just reminiscing about the good times. No harm, no foul, right, Doll? I mean… she was mine first.” Your chest keeps tightening as the room becomes smaller, constricting, suffocating. Bringing your hand to your neck you try to claw for air.

Before leaving, Law’s towering frame seems to engulf Ichiji’s. In his gaze there’s an unspoken warning as he delivers his words with a calmness you would never be able to achieve. “You’re done here, Vinsmoke, but I am not done with you yet.”

The warning lingers in the air as Law steadies you, his hand on your waist, and leads you away from the table, away from Baby 5, away from Ichiji, and away from all the painful memories.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart. Focus on me.”

But you can’t. The room is spinning out of control, and Ichiji’s manic laugh is all you can seem to focus on. His words, his empty promises, his threats, and fake concern. It’s a whirlwind of dizzying thoughts, and you don’t know how to get out.

You can feel yourself fighting for air, gasping because nothing seems to fill up your lungs. And suddenly you’re swaying in Law’s arms. He’s taken you to the dance floor, pulling you closer to him as his arms ground you.

“You’re safe. I’m here. He’s gone.” His hand presses against the back of your head, pulling you to his chest so you can follow the beat of his own heart and try to steady your own. Slowly, you start to hear the soft music over Ichiji’s laughter. Law’s voice pulls you out, keeping you centred. “He’ll never touch you again. You were never his.”

Inhaling a deep breath, you slowly feel yourself gaining ground. Your lungs are functioning again, and your heart beat is steadying. There’s nothing you can do to stop the tremble in your hands, though, so you just clutch Law’s jacket as tightly as you can, burying your face in him and inhaling his soothing scent, again and again.

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

You’re such a mess. You’ve already lost count of how many times Law has had to bring you down from your panic. It’s a full-time job for him now, and you feel the need to say you’re sorry. Would he still want you if he knew how badly damaged you were? You might be in too deep now, but there’s always time for him to regret his decision.

You sniffle, and a whimper leaves your lips. Law keeps swaying you.

“How about a little distraction, hm?” Ever the attentive man, Law senses that words alone won’t stabilise you. “Let’s play a game, sweetheart, okay?” He tilts your chin so you’ll have to focus on his eyes.

“Game?” How foreign your voice sounds. Shaky, weak, trembling and fragile.

“Yeah.” He smiles gently, placing a small peck on your nose, trying to coax a smile from your lips. You try to focus, the bad memories slowly slipping away. “I bet I can make you smile before the song ends.”

It’s such a silly notion that it manages to shake you back to your senses, though the trembling still hasn’t subsided. “Make me smile?”

“Sure. If I manage to make you smile three times before we end our dance, I win.”

Your brows furrow in concentration. “And what happens if you win?”

“Bragging rights.” You twitch the corner of your lip but it’s not quite a smile, so he continues. “Fine. You’ll have to admit that you like me way more than you let on.”

Yeah, you do. So much more.

The first smile fully curves your lips upwards as you let out a breathy laugh, and Law’s posture loses some of its stiffness. “That’s one.” He grins, clearly pleased with himself.

Some of the tension begins to dissipate, and the weight pressing on your chest feels lighter. Your fingers are no longer clutching Law’s jacket for dear life. “Fair enough. What if I win?”

“Hmmm…” Law looks up, seemingly thinking of something to make you laugh again. Then a mischievous smirk fills his lips, and he leans forward to whisper in your ear. “I’ll let you be on top.”

Your breath hitches, and even when you try to fight it, a laugh escapes your lips as a flush fills your cheeks.

“Two.” Law pulls you closer, the intensity in his gaze returning. He sways you some more before kissing the top of your head and voicing his thoughts, “I’m not going to let him near you again, sweetheart. I’m sorry he ever did.”

You nod, feeling the knot in your stomach finally start to unravel. Law’s soothing words manage, once again, to ground you and to make you feel appreciated. The burning in your eyes and the tears that threatened to spill recede, and you feel more at ease.

“I trust you, Law.”

Law smiles, and the music begins to fade in the background. “One more?” He playfully asks, and as you’re about to retort that he’s out of time, he dips you, suddenly and too low. A squeak leaves your lips at the surprise, followed by a heartfelt laugh. When you look into his eyes, he’s grinning. “Three.”

“You’re ridiculous, Law.” You chuckle as he pulls you upright. He looks utterly pleased with himself, smug and cocky.

“Maybe, but I won.” The song has ended, but you’re still wrapped up in his arms.

“You did.” A sigh leaves your lips. “Thank you.”

“So you’re feeling better?” His thumb caresses your cheek, his lips inches from yours. You hum in agreement to his question. “Good. My reward?”

You flush deeply, lost in the amber of his eyes. Your stomach twists and coils, and your heart thrums faster than ever. But it’s not an overwhelming, disturbing feeling. It’s freeing, uplifting, and so damn satisfying.

“I love you, Law.” The words seem weightless, a whisper that carries all of your emotion. Law receives them with a soft smile, his eyes shining brightly as he leans even closer, breaths mingling, making your lips tingle, anticipating his kiss.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

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#reader x trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d law #trafalgar law #reader x law #you x law #reader insert #the meet cute #law x reader #law x you #trafalgar d water law

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animeyanderelover · 1 day ago

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Could you write another lover massaging the yanderes but with Levi Ackerman, Annie, Ash, Sebastian, Yui and Angel Devil(with some sort of clothing covering him probably or another solution you can think of) ?

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, clinginess, mentions of self-harm in Ash's part, mentions of sexual assault and scars in Yui's part

Tags: @lovley-valentine7 @leveyani @chxxz @shumidehiro @cachamata

Receiving a massage from their s/o

Sebastian Michaelis

🐈‍⬛Oh~? What do we have here? The level of smugness emitting from this man as soon as you offer to massage him after a particularly stressful day in the Phantomhive manor is unmatched, red eyes regarding you with a mixture of arrogance yet also fondness. This man teases you so much about your offer, especially if you didn't have the fondest opinion of him at the beginning. Still, he would never deny any physical contact with his mate, especially if his darling is the one initiating it. Still, as long fingers slowly remove every piece of clothing from his torso you can't ignore the suggestive gleam in his eyes. Quite honestly, the way he undresses in itself is almost inappropriate for some reason and the more you can't help but stare the more suggestive it seems to get. You're certainly nowhere as good as he is and for the first few moments his perfectionistic nature gets the better of him as he corrects you teasingly where to touch him to make him feel good. After a while he falls silent though and just enjoys the touch of his mate, the occasional growl of enjoyment escaping his chest which catches you off-guard the first few times.

Ash Landers

▫️The thought of that much skinship almost has the angel feeling dizzy as soon as you offer him to massage him. You do not owe him anything at all, he doesn't mind the stress and frustration he feels with such a rotten world as he does it all for you. You actually need a good few minutes before he caves in, your impending disappointment and sadness much more painful for him than his principles. He gets quite flustered as he removes his clothes though, soon followed by a wave of shame as soon as he reveals some of the wounds he has inflicted himself when not feeling good enough for you which haven't faded away despite him healing faster than humans. Honestly, he's terrified. His heart is pounding against his chest, constantly worried that you will criticise him somehow which makes him exceptionally stiff as soon as you start. That tension remains for quite a while though soon you also notice that he's trying to stiffle groans or any other sinful sounds whenever you find a good spot. His pale cheeks quickly take on a pink hue, one he doesn't want you to see as he tries to hide his face. The moment he finally does relax he finds himself tearing up, touched by your kindness.

Annie Leonhardt

💗There has to be an already established trust between her and you or otherwise Annie won't feel comfortable enough with your suggestion. She is in need of some relaxation though considering that she is constantly brooding over everything that has happened. Initially she denies you though after some awkward seconds of thick silence have passed by between her and you. Do not pester her too much or else she will get irritated and rude, do it the right way so that she doesn't feel annoyed. Once you have managed to convince her that she should try to relax for once and that you just want to treat her well Annie is doing her best to hide how flustered she actually is deep down behind her cold facade. Her control flips away though the more layers of clothes she removes until there is a dust of pink on her cheeks. Still, she is very tense and constantly steals glances at you once you start touching her as she isn't quite used to being so vulnerable with someone. Convincing her to relax and loosen up takes a while, all her muscles stiff as if she feels the need to be on alert. Once she slowly learns how to unravel a bit she stops her cautious glances and just silently enjoys the experience.

Levi Ackerman

⚔️Levi struggles to be openly vulnerable after all the tragedies he had to experience throughout his life and you could almost say that it low-key scares him to reveal that much of his heart and thoughts to his darling. Whilst he doesn't outright denies you when you offer him a massage there is still a long pause as you can see the hesitation and conflict deep within his eyes. He struggles with the idea of being so defenseless, of having that amount of physical contact he probably hasn't experienced since he was a baby and held in the arms of his mother. Needless to say, he's awkward and conflicted even once he complies. There is that fleeting look he gives you once he unbuttons his shirt and reveals his battle-damaged torso to you as if he wants to gauge if there is any hint of shock or unease on your face in which case he would instantly stop this idea. He flinches the first few times you touch his body before he forces himself to stay still yet it still takes him quite a while before he slowly allows himself to relax a tad bit more and to loosen up his tense muscles. It's a strange sensation though, a level of comfort he isn't quite used to as he just bathes in the soothing silence between the two of you.

Komori Yui

💎Normally Yui latches on to every bit of affection her darling gives her, especially after everything she went through. However, she is quite hesitant when you ask her if you could give her a massage. There a bite marks all over her body from whenever someone from the Sakamaki or Mukami brothers sucked her blood against her will and it elicits feelings of shame and insecurity awake within her. She's worried that you may find those scars ugly which is why she finds herself having a hard time agreeing to it. It needs reassurance from your side until she agrees. There are still doubts within her mind and even though you assure her that she doesn't need to feel pressured Yui does as you tell her simply because she is deep down scared that she'll lose you otherwise. Trembling fingers still give away how much she is still in distress as she undresses even if she does her best to act like she is fine with it. None of that fear is directed against you though which is why she is begging you to continue whenever you ask her if it's really alright for her. She feels bad for the way her muscles tense and tremble even after she finally relaxes, her body finally recognising you as her safe haven.

Angel Devil

👼Angel Devil finds himself tilting his head, expressing some concerns regarding his abilities to steal the lifespan of those who touch him. Some part of him is still mildly interested to know what massage feels like as he has heard occasionally about all the therapies and the advantages of it. Now, ususally he isn't a fan of being ordered around too much due to his lazy nature but he makes exceptions for his darling. The only thing he insists on is that you cover your own hands as well as his back to avoid any skin contact. Honestly, he has zero ideas of what to expect despite what he has heard in the past as he just lays down, putting an amount of trust in you he very rarely grants other people. The sensation of being touched, even if only through layers of clothing, in such unfamiliar and intense ways catches even him by surprise though for the first few moments. As soon as he has categorised the sensation as pleasant though he lets you carry on whilst he just enjoys the fact that he has to do nothing at all and can just enjoy this massage. Angel Devil finds himself more than once dozing off between sessions, lazy eyes opening before closing once more.

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ruensroad · 20 hours ago

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I've been musing a lot on an SVSSS x Inuyasha AU. The obvious angle following the plot formula would lead us to BingQiu (SY), which is very sweet and cute. Half demon meets man from the future, it all fits very very nicely. It even fits with Binghe's past with Shen Jiu, who we all know wouldn't hesitate to pin that beast onto a tree with an arrow at any opportunity, let alone for some priceless artifact.

I'm sure I'm not the first person to see this connection. It really does slot together so so well ;3; However, my JiuYuan lovin' heart wants to be contrary because, really, could you just imagine?

Everything about the plot is pointed to one relationship conclusion. The half demon protagonist meets a person from the future who reminds him of the one who betrayed him, and slowly he heals and finds love. So imagine that, what if, instead of following the plot as he is supposed to, Shen Yuan instead falls head over heels for the nebulous, antagonistic and very unhappily resurrected Shen Jiu?

I don't like sacrificing characters in order to claim a pairing, and indeed I know Binghe could have his pick of other characters to woo. I just love the idea of being contrarian to where a plot would usually go, flipping it on its head, and getting a whole different kind of story out of it.

Shen Yuan, who knows this story, who understands the role each character is meant to play. He is there to support the Protagonist, to be the Love Interest, to be a sidekick and friend. Shen Jiu, once brought back to serve as a recurring spectre to hinder the Hero's path, is meant to deal damage and Drama to Luo Binghe. Shen Yuan shouldn't even really be on his radar, except as a way to further hurt the beast he hates so much.

Love Triangle drama that Shen Yuan decides he'll destroy because if they just stopped being Idiots, a good third of the damn book could be avoided. This involves seeking out the vengeful Shen Jiu and dealing with him on a reasonable level.

Of course, in trying to avoid Drama, he instead gets a fixation. And why not? There's a lot to unpack with this antagonist, and the curiosity could go both ways. After all, Shen Yuan makes no secret that he is from a different world.

I just feel Shen Yuan would shine in such an AU. He gets to travel around and see all different kinds of cool creatures (!!), meet awesome demon hunters (LQG!!!), and other demons both good and bad. And Shen Jiu wouldn't just suffer in his role, forever lost to his hate and rage. Here's someone making a connection, making an effort for him, finding worth in surviving this hell he did not ask for.

Shen Jiu being that anti-hero that doesn't help the Protagonist, but will come and help that silly sidekick of his, arriving stylishly when there's trouble, when Binghe is distracted, and realizing he can be around Shen Yuan all while annoying the absolute shit out of the Hero. Let them be sassy and snarky and not always perfect allies, but still somewhat there despite their roles in the plot.

IDK, I just think it would be neat.

#ruenwrites #svsss #jiuyuan #Inuyasha au #I'm sure this has been done before but #IDK #just having a lot of feels tonight

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dinosaurwithablog · 11 hours ago

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Truth 🙏🏼🫂

“Healing is a choice. It is not an easy one because it takes work. But keep making the choice and shifts will happen.”

— Yehuda Berg

#truth #healing takes work #healing takes time #self care #you matter #you're worth it #take time for yourself #motivation #love #kindness #you can do this #ask for help #be good to yourself #happiness #joy #thank you #sharing #healing #it's gonna be okay

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brainddeadd · 3 days ago

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Introduced to Love

based on this song

You sat on the edge of your bed, staring at the wall, lost in a mix of memories and hopes. The light filtered through the curtains, casting soft patterns across your room. But despite the warmth of the sun, you felt a chill in your heart that you couldn’t shake. Your father’s words echoed in your mind, the way he had made you feel small and unworthy, how he had left without a second glance.

Quinn’s soft knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts. You looked up to see him standing there, his familiar smile lighting up the room. He had a way of making everything feel a little more manageable, a little more hopeful.

“Hey,” he said gently, stepping inside. He sat down beside you, the weight of his presence comforting. “You okay?”

You nodded, forcing a smile, but you could see the concern etched in his features. Quinn had been patient with you, always understanding, always there, even when you didn’t know how to let him in completely.

“I was just thinking about… you know, my dad,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “How he always made me feel like I wasn’t enough.”

Quinn’s expression shifted, his brows furrowing as he processed your words. “You’re more than enough, you know that, right?” He took your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours, a small gesture that sent warmth through your veins.

“I want to believe that,” you confessed, squeezing his hand tightly. “But sometimes, it’s hard.”

His thumb brushed over your knuckles, a tender reminder of his presence. “I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. I promise,” he said, sincerity pouring from his eyes. “I want to be the one to show you that not everybody leaves.”

You turned to him, searching for the truth in his gaze. “What if I can’t trust you?” you asked, the fear of opening up holding you back.

“Then I’ll wait,” he replied, his voice steady and calm. “For however long it takes. I want to help you learn to trust again. You deserve that.”

His words wrapped around you like a soft embrace, filling the cracks in your heart. You admired how he saw the little things—like how you always kept your books organized or how you’d hum quietly to yourself while studying. He appreciated you in ways you never thought possible.

“Sometimes, I feel like I’m still being introduced to love,” you admitted, a blush creeping onto your cheeks.

Quinn’s gaze softened, and he leaned closer, his voice a gentle whisper. “Then let me show you what love can be. I want to hold your heart in a way that heals it, not bruises it.”

His promise hung in the air between you, heavy yet hopeful. You could see it in his eyes—the determination, the kindness. Quinn wanted to be the man who would put your heart back together, piece by piece.

“How could you ever see something in me?” you murmured, the vulnerability spilling out. “After everything?”

“Because you’re amazing,” he said without hesitation. “You light up every room you walk into. How could I run from somebody like you? You’re worth so much more than you know.”

As the walls around your heart began to crumble, you realized that maybe, just maybe, Quinn was right. Maybe it was time to believe in yourself and let him in.

“Okay,” you breathed, a small smile breaking through. “I want to try.”

Quinn’s smile mirrored yours, his eyes sparkling with hope. “That’s all I need to hear.”

He leaned in closer, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, sealing the promise that he would be there for you—no matter how long it took.

#quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #° braindead writes

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morganas-pendragons · 1 day ago

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from the depths | celebrimbor

this is the first fic of the list of those I've written for Celebrimbor so far. I wasn't initially going to write this, and then @pentaghasm said: ''please write this I need to know more''

So here it is! :D this will give you MASSIVE hints as to who the true identity is of this reader... and who you know that she's related to!

afab!reader

enjoy!

prompt: you remember falling. an endless sea of grey that ended with the blues of a river that you fall beneath the surface of. you're injured. you don't know who you are.. or how to swim... but the soldiers who guard Eregion's perimeter do.

They come to their Lord with a single question.

tag: @celebrimbormylove - @pentaghasm

***

You remember falling. The sky is endless, stretching into a vastness you cannot even begin to comprehend as you plummet toward the ocean. You did not have a choice.

You have a prophecy to keep from being fulfilled.

There are whispers of images that flash behind your eyes as you close them in surrender to your fate. You are certain you are going to die. If colliding with the ocean or drowning in it is how you will go, then you are going to try to remember what little remains inside your mind.

Where did it all go?

Gentle, kind eyes. Silver light and whispered words of Sindarin and Quenya. The very trees bowing to his will. The dirt trembling beneath his fingers. The sound of his voice, warm and encouraging, as you master your healing craft with your three other siblings nearby. They wanted nothing to do with you.

He always did.

You believe that you've collided with the surface of an ocean when the waters swell up to overwhelm you, dragging you beneath the surface and forcing you down into its depths. That is certainly how it feels. You cannot discern much. Only the darkness.

Everything is shrouded in grey.

Eregion's soldiers are more caught off guard by the sudden impact in their river then you are colliding with it.

"Get the boats!"

"Where did she come from?!"

Six of them dressed in gold armor row out to where you've landed, and one of them - their Captain, by the looks of it - navigates pulling you out from where you have sunk and surging upward again to lay your prone form within the boat. There is little on your person that can help them to identify you: You are only wearing a long grey robe and a bronze circlet with what appears to be holly leaves engraved into the metal that envelops your head.

The younger ellon, a new recruit by the look of him, shakily removes the circlet from your head before parting your hair to reveal your head wound. Where did that even come from?

"She's injured, sir. We need to address this with Lord Celebrimbor. This... arrival is most unusual."

Captain Malendol pursed his lips and peered down at you. They had all seen you fall from the Heavens. You looked like an Elf, but there was no way to tell if you were friend or foe, much less who you actually were.

He nodded.

"When we make land, inform Lord Celebrimbor. We will let him decide what to do with her."

***

Celebrimbor paced the length of the healer's chambers as he watched them work on you from the corner of his eye. When Captain Malendol had sent word that an injured woman had fallen from the skies and into Eregion's river, he hadn't quite believed him. Not until he'd seen you in the boat and the circlet bestowed upon your head before the healers had removed it.

A rare metal upon a nameless woman. One who had a head injury even his best healers were confused by, and that unnerved him.

Celebrimbor paused as his gaze settled upon you again. Why was your circlet the same colors as Eregion's holly leaves, the deep greens and golds he so often wore?

"Leave us." He commanded. "I will tend to our friend until they awake."

The healers bowed deeply before leaving the room. Celebrimbor approached the cot where you lay and pressed his fingers against the side of the cot as he looked at you.

You were beautiful.

"I do not know who you are or why you are here," He whispered. "But you will be alright, in the end. You will remain safe here. I promise."

Celebrimbor is many things: A kind, honest Elf who has endured centuries of scrutiny as a descendant of the House of Fëanor, atoning for the sins of his ancestors by vowing to be better than them and their Oath.

He wanted to do right by the people they'd wronged. Eregion was a haven for creators and craftsman alike, built by Celebrimbor and those who abided within as a place to embrace and expand your passions. A place where its inhabitants could live and be safe.

Ignoring his better judgment, Celebrimbor came closer to your prone form and paused.

The moment Celebrimbor laid his hand upon your shoulder, you shot awake faster than he expected and defensively crossed your arms over and around your head as if anticipating an attack. He removed his hand immediately and settled it back at his side as he moved into your line of sight.

"Forgive me. I did not mean to scare you." Celebrimbor began, frowning as you lowered your arms to meet his eyes. "My name is Celebrimbor. You are in Eregion. Can you tell me what happened? Who are you?"

***

The first thing you notice about him is his eyes. They're so kind. They're those eyes that draw your attention because they're so different from anyone else in this existence, and you lower your arms to be able to see his face more clearly.

He's Elvish. He's Elvish, with soft blonde, loose curls framed back against the shape of his face that fall gently against his forehead. He's beautiful.

"N-" You frown. "Name?"

That doesn't make sense. You don't recall a name. You don't recall... anything but those few flashes you'd seen when you fell. Grey eyes. Grey robes. Soft laughter. Silver light. Whispered words of Quenya and Sindarin, a tongue you should not know, but you do. You know it as if it is the very breath in your lungs.

"The birth name given to you," He explained. "Mine is Telperinquar in the Quenya tongue. In Sindarin, it is Celebrimbor."

A kind name for a kind man. He seemed to have a soft heart.

You focused on the question you wanted to ask as you slowly spoke, "Why me?" and frowned deeper as he smiled at you. You wanted to feel uncomfortable under the intensity of his touch. He's a stranger. You don't even know him.

"I saw someone in trouble. Someone injured, wearing a circlet of holly leaves, and I wanted to help." He explained. "You looked like someone who needed help."

Falling. I'm falling. Falling to the water, I do not know how to swim-

"They pulled me from the water. I-" You swallowed the knot in your throat and shivered. Lifting your hand, you cupped the side of your aching head and allowed your eyes to slip closed. "It was dark. I could not move. It hurt."

Celebrimbor opened his mouth to reply but found himself transfixed by the glowing silver light emitting from your palm. You did not seem shocked by it, much less fearful, as he watched the wound against your temple slowly close and disappear after the bandage had fallen off.

The Elven Smith softened as he clasped his hands against his stomach. He had not taken his eyes off of you once. So attentive.

"Does it hurt now?" He asked quietly.

When you open your eyes, his breath catches. Celebrimbor has lived centuries by now. Many Elves of Sindar and Noldor origin alike have lived within the city walls. What he'd never seen, however, was one with eyes like yours.

Silver. Pure silver, just as if pure starlight was embodied within your gaze.

"No," Your voice was earnest as you looked at him again, scooting closer to the edge of the cot and kicking your legs off the side. "Safe. With you."

You didn't understand why his cheeks darkened at that, but Celebrimbor smiled anyway.

"You can consider that a promise. We will work on the name later. Are you feeling well enough to take a walk with me?"

You took his hand and slowly removed yourself from the table. Celebrimbor watched intently as you looked around the room in search of what he assumed were meager belongings you'd had in your possession when they'd found you.

Gentle fingers wound around your circlet and moved across the room to lay it against your brow. Celebrimbor pressed his lips together as he stared at the jewel in the center. It was the same color as your eyes.

"Clothes," You said. Words were hard. Hearing him talk made words come easier. "Better clothes. Can't wear that robe. Too wet."

Bright laughter echoed in the healing chambers as Celebrimbor sent for one of his servants just outside of the door. She returned a moment later with a fresh set of deep green robes and boots.

He waited until you emerged from the room to extend his arm to you. You nervously looked at his household staff venturing the halls and wrapped your arm through his own, clinging to his side as Celebrimbor began to lead you out and into Eregion.

"Come enjoy my city, nin tinu," Celebrimbor remarked as he gestured with an idle hand to the citizens in the square and the statue of Fëanor. "Let me tell you the history of our great city."

#Celebrimbor #Celebrimbor x Reader #Rings of Power #Rings of Power fanfiction

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welldonekhushi · 2 days ago

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Vampyr OC: Anastasia Graham 🏥

Introducing you all to a new OC, everyone! My head has been constantly brainstorming with ideas to create a new character based on the game I'm currently posting content with. So, here's what you can know about them, under the cut!

Currently for the bio, I've only used Picrews to describe Anastasia's appearance, but sooner or later I'll draw her in my style and update it all!

GENERAL:

Name: Anastasia

Full name: Anastasia Graham

Alias(es): Anna (by her family, and Dr. Reid), Annie (by the patients)

Age: 25 years old

Gender: Female

Nationality: British (UK)

Languages spoken: English, a bit of French (learnt from her mother who briefly served during the war)

Place of Birth: Birmingham, England

Species: Human

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Marital Status: Single

Occupation: Nurse at Pembroke Hospital

Current residence: Whitechapel

Status: Active

Faceclaim: Freya Mavor

(She mostly wears two braids to the hospital but when she's at home, she has her hair open like in the pictures!)

Biography: Anastasia Graham, an aspiring nurse with hopes of making a mark in medical studies, faces numerous challenges as she begins her career at Pembroke Hospital amid the deadly Spanish Flu epidemic.

PERSONALITY:

Myers-Briggs Type: ISFJ (The Defender)

Compassionate and kind: One defining characteristic of Anastasia is her deep compassion and kindness towards her patients, often referred to as a “hope restored.” Her mere presence brings light to those in the hospital, uplifting spirits even amid the bleak conditions caused by the flu’s impact on the city.

Emotional: The loss of her patients profoundly affects Anastasia, breaking her heart and making her feel as though she has failed in her duty as a nurse. She struggles to cope with these intense emotions, but with the guidance of Dorothy Crane, she is learning to be resilient and to maintain hope, even in the face of loss when there is nothing more she can do.

Cautious: Due to a traumatic vampire attack in her youth that nearly cost her life, Anastasia approaches the world with caution. She often fears walking alone, haunted by the possibility that someone might be following her. To protect herself, she keeps the knife her father gave her, always prepared to defend herself if necessary.

AFFILIATIONS:

Graham Family

Henry Graham (Father, deceased)

Amelia Graham (Mother, alive)

Eleanor Graham (Aunt, alive)

Alfred Graham (Uncle, alive)

Pembroke Hospital

Dr. Jonathan Reid (Colleague, Love Interest)

Dr. Thoreau Strickland (Colleague #2)

Dr. Edgar Swansea (Employer, Administrator of Pembroke Hospital)

Dorothy Crane (Mentor)

Gwyneth Branagan (Mentor #2)

Pippa Hawkins (Distant Cousin)

BACKGROUND STORY:

Anastasia Graham was born in Birmingham to Henry and Amelia Graham. Her father, a dedicated member of the Guard of Priwen—a society of vampire hunters—instilled in her an early sense of resilience, while her mother, a compassionate medic, inspired Anastasia's passion for healing. Determined to follow in her mother’s footsteps, Anastasia committed herself to the study of medicine from a young age.

Her life took a dark turn one evening when she was nearly attacked by a bloodthirsty vampire. She was saved just in time by a Priwen hunter, but the incident left a lasting impression on her. To help her feel safe, her father entrusted her with a silver knife, a small but powerful symbol of protection should she ever face such danger again.

As she grew, Anastasia remained focused on her goal of becoming a nurse, eventually securing formal education in the medical field. This path led her to London during the height of the Spanish Flu epidemic, a devastating time that demanded all hands on deck in the healthcare sector. It was then that Dr. Edgar Swansea, who recognized her potential and the urgent need for additional medical staff, invited her to join the Pembroke Hospital team.

Under the mentorship of Dorothy Crane, Anastasia Graham dedicated herself to serving the patients of Pembroke Hospital, striving to emulate Dorothy’s own unwavering commitment to compassionate care. Despite the harsh conditions, she went to great lengths to ensure each patient was treated with dignity and that their needs were met. Yet, the onslaught of suffering patients as the Spanish Flu ravaged the city took a toll on her. With each new wave, the pain, fear, and despair around her intensified, and Anastasia began to feel overwhelmed. Though determined to stay strong, she found herself teetering on the edge of exhaustion.

One evening, while rushing through the dim, crowded halls of Pembroke, Anastasia noticed a new figure in the hospital. Tall and composed, he moved through the chaos with a calm, almost unearthly presence that commanded attention. He was a doctor, recently arrived and eager to join the fight against the epidemic. When their eyes met, Anastasia felt a strange sense of foreboding—and fascination. Unaware of the true nature of the man she was drawn to, she sensed that her life was about to take an irrevocable turn.

#vampyr #vampyr game #vampyr 2018 #oc #vampyr oc #anastasia graham #oc biography #original character #original character biography #character profile #oc profile #my oc character #pembroke hospital

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razzberrydazz · 1 day ago

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While my soul wants to shapeshift, my heart wants teleportation, so that I can instantly go to the people I am trying to help and get them the things they need and get them to safety! Such as Ali Jendia's family!

A family in particular I want to help get to safety is Ali Jendia and his family. @ali-manar asked me to share his story as follows:

"I write to you with a heavy heart, not seeking financial support, but simply to share my voice, my family's voice, and our daily struggles. We are living in challenging conditions in a tent, where my wife, Manar, cannot find the comfort she needs for her kidney treatment. My children, Muhammad and Haneen, could not complete their education because of the war. My young son, Yazan, has been severely injured by explosions that shattered his safety and childhood.

All I ask is that you remember us, ask about our well-being, even if with just a few simple words that let us know we are not alone and that there are those who feel for us. Just shedding light on our suffering would be enough to ease this heavy burden and give us hope that kindness still exists.

May these words reach those with compassionate hearts who will remember us and keep us in their prayers. This gesture alone would be enough for me."

I am doing what I can to help this family and several other families devastated by the occupation in Gaza, and if you would like to help this family, you can find their fundraiser here. This is a vetted campaign. The currency is in swedish krona, $10 USD ≈ 105 SEK.

@dev-tawfik @northgazaupdates2 @a-shade-of-blue @rainy-fog @7yrannic @ankle-beez @loonarmuunar @nationalvyvanseshortage @hootnhoney @theslyvoid9 batman @jays---wing @murielswedding @shesnake @userpeggycarter @sabertoothwalrus @daily-click-reminders @halorvic @bluerepository @kindaorangey @lorelune @smolldust @skautism @creaking-skull @bloodbornebutch @bloodraven55 @thatneoncrisis @loserlesbianongsa @serotoninny@vamprisms @ohmaerieme @meglyfer @shoogachi @the-stove-is-divorced @loudmound @wyrm-with-a-why @cybrthrillz @racc0jello @eldermoonbreezy @dreamterlude (comment/DM if you want your tag added or removed)

#razz's fundraiser list #help gaza #gaza aid #gaza gofundme #mutual aid #vetted campaign #vetted gofundme #gaza funds #verified gfm #verified fundraiser #gaza fundraiser #help palestine #save palestine #save gaza #ali-manar

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girlfriendsofthegalaxy · 3 days ago

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tuesday again 11/5/2024

i am going to do my absolute fucking best to stay off the internet today. also the next time i write one of these i will be goddamn thirty. yeesh.

listening

it took three hours to make a normally brisk 50-minute trip back from the airport on sunday bc there were simply so many accidents. my phone wasn't charging, i was kind of locked into the one way i actually knew how to get home, it was pouring, and the only radio station that was reliably coming through was the local dad rock station.

youtube

i don't think i've ever actually heard this song all the way through before! i have of course heard the chorus in eight billion advertisements and trailers etc, but i tuned in right at the lyrics

I was a willow last night in my dream I bent down over a clear running stream Sang you the song that I heard up above And you kept me alive with your sweet flowing love

big ren faire lady of shallott vibes.

reading

witch hat atelier, the first twelve volumes that are out in english anyway. let's yoink the setup from the fan wiki.

Coco, a girl living in a small village, had been dreaming of becoming a magician since little. But people who don't know how to use magic since birth are unable to become magicians, or witness the moment magic occurs. But one day, Coco accidentally saw Qifrey, a magician that was visiting the village casting a spell. Ecstatic to finally know how magic works, she tries it immediately and transforms her mother into a stone statue. With the help of Qifrey and his disciples, Coco will embark in a magical journey to save her mother.

this gets a lot of ghibli comparisons, and i get it-- there's a lot of concern about healing scars from a near-cataclysmic magical war, lots of contraptions, bucolic countryside, loving shots of food, etc. i think there is a focus on academia and cohort-building, and how networking is a profession all to itself, that we do not generally see in ghibli films. i think the comp pull should go beyond the aesthetics, as well, but ghibli is still a good comp-- the world of witch hat atelier is dangerous and can hurt or kill you, but it treats the reader's heart with the same care a ghibli movie will. things may not be happily ever after or go perfectly at all times, but there are no twists for the sake of twists, and it doesn't sneer or make fun of you for caring about a character. there are no whedonesque "well THAT happened!" moments. these characters are going to learn and grow and you will learn and grow along with them goddamnit. it is queer but incidentally queer. the folx side of the fags-folx spectrum will feel very welcome here but this is not a tenderqueer kind of gay book. characters are incidentally gay because of course they are, that's just how the world works, look at all the fullness of human expression you can encounter in your one short life, why NOT be gay

i did not expect this series to kickstart a fresh wave of grief for my own academic experience. coco leans on her cohort so much and they truly do work together to solve problems and come up with good solutions and i wish i had had that kind of astronomy experience. it's kind of cold comfort that i don't know and have never heard of a woman having a good astronomy experience.

witch hat atelier: very fun to sink into the details on a page (Kamome Shirahama knows how functional but pretty clothes work), endlessly charming veneer on a very taut game of political ethics happening in the grownups' background

watching

happy noirvember!!!

youtube

Another Man's Poison (1952, dir. Rapper) courtesy of Kanopy's little revolving carousel of new noir films.

An English mystery writer (Bette Davis) kills her husband, then tries to kill a man (Gary Merrill) posing as her husband.

In his review in New Statesman and Nation, Frank Hauser wrote "No one has ever accused Bette Davis of failing to rise to a good script; what this film shows is how far she can go to meet a bad one."

a plot that could only happen in a country where appearances are everything. i must agree with mr hauser and most of the critics of the time who said Huh???? to the script and basic premise. AND the ending is a little too pat. a breakneck ninety minutes filmed in three months where its stage play bones show. however i really like Bette Davis and it's so much fun to watch Bette Davis pace around an English manor house like a caged tiger.

playing

fallow week, i am having a consistent problem with the now five year old gaming rig overheating and once i solve that issue i am very excited to play Red Dead Redemption the original (thank you again @pasta-pardner !)

making

deep cleaned my entire house. drove three hundred miles this weekend to pick up my sister and her friend from the airport, go to the ren faire, come back from the ren faire, and take them back to the airport. houston delivered to me some of the worst fucking driving experiences i have ever had here. really upsetting torrential downpour for nearly an hour on a road with no shoulder to speak of.

the actual ren faire was fun! i did not realize how vital a chair or bench with a fucking back was to my rest and recovery. it was nice to go with fellow adults and not help wrangle several small children, as fun as a kid-friendly experience can be. got my overpriced gyro for the year. got my bootleg anime merch for the year. wish it hadn't rained but i feel very smug for packing enough umbrellas and ponchos.

#tuesday again #tuesday again no problem #listen this one's a little light but i am experiencing The Horrors

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queenshelby · 22 hours ago

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The Accident (Part Eight)

Pairing: Reader & Cillian Murphy

Warning: Domestic Abuse, Religious Themes, Trafficking

Thank you @blondie-22 for this amazing idea!

Just as Cillian had promised, he took you and the girls to see the caseworker and, whilst the office felt somewhat sterile, the older man's kind eyes softened the edges of the stark room.

“Y/N, right?” she said, glancing at the papers in front of him. You nodded, your stomach twisting with both anxiety and relief.

“I’ve reviewed your situation, and we can definitely help you,” he said, his tone reassuring. “But it’s going to take some time to sort everything out especially with regards to your immigration case. For now, let's focus on getting you and your children settled somewhere safe and I understand that Mr Murphy has already made arrangements for that, right?”

Cillian, who was sitting next to you, minding Mika, nodded, a reassuring smile on his face.

“Good, because you are not eligible for emergency accommodation outside the homeless shelter or immigration camp, both of which I consider somewhat inappropriate for your two children," he continued, folding his hands in front of him.

“What I will do for you now is file for a protection order against your husband if you're willing to proceed with that,” he said, meeting your gaze with a steady look.

You hesitated, your heart racing. “What if he finds out? What if—” “—he comes after me?” You finished, biting your lip. The weight of your past hovered like a dark cloud.

Cillian leaned closer, his expression earnest.

“We’ll make sure he can't find you," he told you and the case worker nodded, explaining that, as part of this process, your location will not be disclosed.

"Once we file for a protection order, he cannot come near you or your children. He would be arrested if he breaches this order and our office will take necessary steps to enforce it," the case worker explained and your breath steadied a little, the idea starting to take root in your mind.

“Okay,” you said, nodding slowly. “I’ll do it.”

"Good choice,” the caseworker replied, a hint of a smile creeping onto his face as he glanced at Cillian with approval.

"We will also get some schooling sorted for your older daughter and provide access to resources for you to get back on your feet. We don’t want you feeling isolated,” the caseworker then added before explaining the process further.

According to him, Sarah would be attending a school in your area that could accommodate her needs. In addition to that you were getting access to essential food and clothing, as well as healthcare, all while your immigration matter would be assessed for processing.

"Finally, we suggest that you agree to us providing you with a therapist for both you and your older daughter so that you both have someone to talk to about everything you've been through," the caseworker concluded, his voice gentle but firm.

“Therapy?” you echoed, uncertainty pinching your heart.

“It’s a safe space,” the caseworker replied, leaning slightly forward.

“To help you heal, to help Sarah process everything. It could be invaluable for both of you," he went on to say and Cillian rubbed your shoulder lightly, a silent gesture of support.

“It might feel strange at first, but it’s okay to ask for help,” he murmured, glancing at you with warmth and, eventually, you nodded, absorbing the details as they unfolded.

The caseworker smiled, jotting down notes before standing up and extending his hand toward you.

“Once all the paperwork is completed, I will ensure you're safe and secure. Remember, you’re not alone in this. You're surrounded by people ready to help," he explained and you grasped his hand, feeling a surge of hope at his words.

“Thank you,” you managed, your voice wavering slightly as you looked at him, the sincerity of his reassurance wrapping around you like a protective cloak.

Cillian stood as well, giving you a moment to breathe before ushering you and the children outside into the fresh Dublin air.

“Let’s go check out the house,” he suggested, smiling at you as you stepped into the sunlight. Sarah grabbed your hand, her small fingers twining with yours, while Cillian hoisted Mika onto his hip, his expression softening at the sight of the two of you together.

“Is the new house going to be really nice?” Sarah asked, her eyes wide with wonder, a slight bounce in her step as they walked.

Cillian chuckled softly, glancing back at her. “It’s old and small, but charming I think,” he replied, his voice light.

“Charming? What does that mean?” Sarah asked, swinging her arms and skipping forward.

“It means it has character,” Cillian said, his tone playful as they walked. “And stories, like old fairy tales," he went on to explain, gesturing towards the quaint houses lining the street, each with its own unique features.

"A writer used to live there. He used to write many stories actually," he continued, glancing down at Sarah, whose curiosity had completely captured her attention.

“Did he write about princesses?” Sarah’s voice brimmed with enthusiasm, eyes sparkling.

“Absolutely," Cillian said, a grin spreading across his face. “He would write about princesses who saved kingdoms and fought dragons,” he added, weaving stories with animated gestures, his energy infectious.

“Did they fight them with swords?” Sarah asked, her eyes wide, envisioning grand battles. Cillian nodded, playing up the drama.

“Of course!" he confirmed, and Sarah was in awe.

“Wow!” Sarah gasped, imagining the fierce princess charging into battle atop a magnificent steed. “And they’d win, right? Like all the time?”

Cillian raised his hand theatrically, “Always! They never backed down," Cillian told her and, after a while, you all arrived in front of the small townhouse in one of Dublin's better suburbs.

The townhouse stood with a quiet dignity, its brick facade softened by creeping ivy and blooming flowers spilling over the window boxes.

Sunlight danced over the charming entrance, a welcoming sight that sparked a flicker of hope in your heart. Cillian stopped at the front door, turning to Sarah.

“Ready to see your new, although temporary, home?” he asked and you all nodded.

“Yes!” Sarah exclaimed, eyes alight with eagerness.

Cillian smiled widely, then opened the door with a gentle push.

“Welcome, little warrior princess!” he said as he stepped aside, allowing the sunlight to spill into the foyer.

You followed Cillian inside, your heart fluttering with a mix of trepidation and anticipation. The interior was warm and inviting, with wooden floors polished to a shine and walls painted a soft, cheerful cream.

“It's not much, but it's furnished and has everything you and the girls will need," Cillian said, waving a hand to indicate the living area and kitchen.

"It's perfect, Cillian! Thank you!" you said, relief flooding your voice as you took in the small details—a cozy couch, a dining table, and a kitchen that radiated warmth.

“I’m glad you like it,” he replied, his voice softening as he noticed the hesitant smile on your face.

As you stepped further inside, Sarah peeked around, eyes darting from one item to another, absorbing every detail.

“Look at that!” She rushed toward a small bookshelf lined with children's books, her fingers skimming over the spines. “Do we get to read them all?”

Cillian knelt beside her, a gentle grin spreading across his face. “Absolutely! They are all yours now," he told her as he picked one up, its cover bright and vibrant, featuring a dragon and a small knight in shining armor.

“Why is all this stuff here?" you asked as you examined the spines of colorful books lining the shelf, suspicion mingling with curiosity. Cillian stood up, eyeing the shelves thoughtfully.

“The person who lived here sold it as is. She was an older lady who moved to a retirement home," he continued, his voice warm yet tinged with nostalgia. “She left behind all this, including the books. Figured it would be more special if the next family could enjoy them.”

Sarah’s eyes sparkled at the thought, her small hands already reaching for a bright book with a whimsical illustration on the cover.

“Can we read one now?” she asked, her innocence shining through.

“Definitely,” Cillian replied, smiling as he settled down on the floor, gesturing for Sarah to join him. “Which one do you want to read first?”

“This one!” she exclaimed, holding up a book with a vibrant cover and Cillian chuckled, taking the book from her hands as he cleared his throat before commencing to read.

“Once upon a time,” he started, weaving his voice into a melody that danced through the room. “In a kingdom far away, there lived a brave little knight...” he went on and Sarah settled beside him with rapt attention, her small body leaning closer as if the words themselves drew her in.

Cillian's voice turned animated as he read, infusing life into each character. “This knight was not afraid of the fiercest of dragons, for he knew that true bravery came from a kind heart.”

Sarah's eyes widened, her imagination lighting up with every word but, eventually, after about half an hour or so of storytelling, Cillian had to leave.

Cillian glanced at the clock on the wall, a slight furrow forming between his brows. “I have to head out in a bit to pick up my daughter, Nina, from the station,” he said softly, apologizing to Sarah, who couldn't believe that Cillian had a daughter too.

“Wait! You have a daughter?” Sarah’s eyes widened in disbelief, her curiosity bubbling over. “Is she like a princess, too?”

Cillian chuckled, ruffling her hair affectionately “Not exactly a princess,” he replied, his laughter warm and genuine. “But she’s pretty special in her own way and much older than you are, so she really doesn't like it when I call her princess now, you know. She's sixteen and quite independent,” he shared, a hint of pride in his voice.

“Sixteen? That’s so old!” Sarah exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with wonder. “What does she do?”

“She studies a lot,” Cillian replied, leaning back slightly to allow Sarah space for her imagination to roam. “Nina loves music and plays the guitar. She's very good at it, actually. She even writes her own songs,” Cillian added, a fond smile gracing his lips at the thought of his daughter.

“Can I meet her?" Sarah asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet, her excitement palpable.

Cillian smiled, the corners of his mouth lifting. “Absolutely, but you’ll have to wait just a bit longer. Maybe I can bring her around tomorrow," he promised, glancing at you before returning to Sarah.

“Tomorrow sounds great!” Sarah beamed, her enthusiasm radiating through the small room.

“Alright then,” Cillian said, standing up, brushing off the imaginary dust from his pants from the fairytale story.

“Now,” he clapped his hands together, “you look after your mum, okay?" Cillian said before gathering his things and you felt your heart swell at the sight of Sarah’s beaming face.

There was a flicker of resilience in the little girl, a balm against the scars of their past and the way Cillian interacted with her kindled something new in you—hope.

"I will see you tomorrow," Cillian eventually said as he moved toward the door, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer.

"The key is here," he gestured toward the small hook by the door, where a single brass key glinted in the warm light.

“Make sure you lock the door. It's got security features in case anything happens, but I don't think you have anything to worry about here."

You nodded, the weight of his reassurance settling gently in your chest.

"Oh and I have ordered some groceries, nappies and baby stuff for you. It should get delivered within the next couple of hours," he continued, his voice steady as he pulled open the front door.

"You're a lifesaver, Cillian," you replied, feeling an unexpected tightness in your throat. Gratitude swelled, the warmth of his kindness flooding through you.

Cillian’s smile deepened, his blue eyes reflecting sincerity. “Just doing what I can.”

He paused at the threshold, a spark of hesitation flickering in his gaze. “Remember, if you need anything, just call me,” he added, his voice low and intentional as he glanced at you, pointing at a cellphone he had also left for you that rested on the kitchen counter between the flower-patterned towels.

"I saved my number for you on that phone. You can contact me anytime, day or night," he added, his expression serious, underscoring the weight of his words.

“Thank you,” you said again, your voice barely above a whisper as you felt the depth of his sincerity wash over you before, finally, with a gentle smile and a wave, he stepped out into the cool Dublin afternoon, leaving you and Sarah inside the warm cocoon of the townhouse.

The door clicked softly shut behind him, a quiet reminder that you were safe, at least for now.

Sarah bounced on her toes, her energy bubbling over. “Can we read more stories?” she asked, her eyes wide with excitement as she clutched the book Cillian had left behind.

“Of course!” you replied, a smile creeping onto your face at her enthusiasm. “Pick a new one, and let’s see what adventures await.”

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