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justporo · 5 months

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From savoury to sweet

All your friends are invited for winter festivities and you're doing your best to prepare everything for a big reunion. But a certain vampire keeps testing your patience until it ultimately snaps...

MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: Written for the "Delicacies" prompt of the BG3 Winter Holiday challenge and since I'm running this challenge I'm cheating a bit and also fill the "Holiday spirit" with this - because I guess everyone knows the feeling of feeling stretched thin when the end of the year comes around with all the joy and stress it has to offer... And sadly I don't have a sassy vampire to pull me through it *sighs* Happy holidays to you all!

Pairing: Astarion/GN!Tav (You) Warnings: none Wordcount: 1,5k ~~~

The little townhouse in Baldur’s Gate you and Astarion lived in was filled throughout with delicious smells: mulled wine, freshly baked pastries, simmering gravy. Together with everything being neatly decorated with holly, candles and more wintery decor it made for a very cosy and festive atmosphere.

Unfortunately, the comfy mood was disrupted by smells of burning and colourful curses being spat.

Gale and you had been bustling around the kitchen cooking, baking and making preparations, meanwhile Astarion sat at the long table there - one leg lazily dragged up onto the bench. He was reading something and kept stealing brandy infused cherries out of a bowl that always seemed to magically find its way back into his reach - no matter how often you moved the bowl away from him.

The wizard had come over to help you prepare a whole bunch of food. And of course there had been a very good reason behind all of this.

Somewhen when winter had rolled around and the Midwinter holidays had come closer, a thought had entered your mind and been stuck there ever since - and with that a wish.

It had been quite some time since you had seen all the other members of your little adventure group last - or friends rather because that was what they all had become. And you missed them all deeply. But fortunately there could be something done about that.

So, you had brought up the idea to Astarion to invite them over for the holiday to have a nice festive evening together.

Immediately, the vampire’s nose had scrunched up in distaste: “You’re not becoming all sappy all of a sudden, are you? I didn’t sign up for this.”

You had swatted his arm and pouted profusely, feeling a little hurt by his immediate rejection of your idea.

This had been a dream of yours for a long time: having a really fancy and enjoyable holiday festivity with someone to actually share it. Because you never had the chance to have that when you had grown up on the streets of Baldur’s Gate.

The closest you’d ever gotten to a holiday celebration had been sharing a stolen pie with some other urchins while you had huddled somewhere under tattered blankets, trying to escape the cold.

When you had painted that picture for Astarion (maybe purposefully laying it on thickly), his sassy attitude had immediately fallen. You had seen some of your past hurt mirrored in his red eyes. With a small sigh he had hooked his thumb on your chin and promised you to give you the holiday festivity you had always dreamt of.

“But”, he had immediately added when you had already started jumping up and down joyfully, “no one and I mean none of them will stay with us, darling. I had enough of sharing camp with all these buffoons for a lifetime - for all of immortality even.”

You had brushed off his sarcastic words quickly and had sent out letters to all your friends the following day. Answers had come in slow and sporadically since then - but that surely only meant that everyone was just very busy. Right?

But once you had started to think about what dishes you all wanted to prepare for this evening, how to get everything festive and whatnot, all these worries had quickly been forgotten. Gale had immediately been enlisted as your aid to tackle the massive task - obviously not taking no for an answer.

So there you were: a prodigy wizard and a former thief slaving away in the kitchen for almost a whole day in preparation for holiday dinner. Meanwhile a vampire was contributing nothing to the efforts - except if you counted his snide remarks (and of those he contributed many).

Every surface in the kitchen was filled with already finished dishes, loose ingredients or heaps of dirty pots, pans and utensils. Together with Gale you had prepared little filled pies as a starter, a variety of sides for the main course of different picks of meats and fish and sauces to compliment everything.

Almost all of it was done being prepped for dinner. Now only your baked dessert was missing. And of course that had been where things had went awry. Your nerves had been on edge already, stressing how everything would go. Gale had not been helping with his unhelpful-helpful commentary. And not even to mention your vampire just lounging there on the bench like a cat, making it a point to annoy you even more with his sassy manner.

And you had reached your breaking point when you had pulled a completely burnt cake from the oven, covering up the delicious other smells while a small smoke cloud had erupted in the middle of the kitchen and Astarion hadn’t been able to keep his mouth shut about it.

“Oh love, I mean, I am no expert by any means, but I do think that’s a bit dark even for a dark chocolate cake,” he’d commented while he had barely even lifted his eyes from his book, one elbow propped up on the table and head placed on his hand while he popped another cherry into his mouth.

And that had also been the reason why he’d been hit with a small bun. Caused by your already thin stretched patience finally snapping you had grabbed the nearest throwable thing and had hurled it at the vampire’s head. That thing had happened to be a bunch of sweet rolls you had made as a side. Your impeccable aim had made sure that you hit your mark - and the screech you had let out had probably given it even more force.

Without even checking Astarion’s reaction you had sunk down on the bench opposite of the vampire and had buried your face in your hands while you tried to not let tears overwhelm you.

Astarion reflectively hissed and swatted the gnarly pastry away from him. But then he took in the scene and quickly realised that he had rightfully brought this onto himself.

Gale, who had taken a step back from you in caution with hands lifted defensively, threw the pale elf a sour look now while you suppressed sobs. “Incredibly supportive, Astarion, a job well done”, the wizard scolded the vampire who at least had the good grace to look ashamed of himself.

The wizard sat down beside you and started rubbing your back while he kept throwing Astarion looks. The vampire shuffled around awkwardly for a few moments, not being used to and not enjoying having to apologise.

With a sigh he finally got up and moved around the table and with a “shoo shoo” motion chased Gale out of the kitchen so he could be alone with you for a moment or two.

“Love, I’m sorry,” Astarion whispered as he sat down beside you and looped an arm around your shoulders. Immediately you let yourself fall into his touch. You really didn’t want to be mad at him. Under different circumstances you would have just laughed at his comment.

“I’m sorry I upset you with the stupid thing I said, forgive me?”, the vampire added and softly nuzzled his nose into your hair as you buried your face at his chest.

“I forgive you - sorry I threw baked goods at you”, you mumbled into his chest but you knew he had understood you when you felt the soft rumble of his laughter run through his whole body.

“It’s all good, my love. I got what I deserved and may I add: incredible aim. You’ve not lost your touch since the end of our grand adventure”, Astarion added and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

You relaxed a little and just sat there with him for a few moments as you felt that your breathing slowly became normal again and some tension leaving your body. Astarion just held you.

After a while the vampire dragged over the bowl of liquor drenched fruit he’d been stealing out of. “Cherry, my sweet?”, he asked and with that made you look up again. He was holding the sticky fruit between his thumb and index and winked at you.

And for some reason that made you laugh. But when you didn’t immediately answer, Astarion shrugged his shoulders and popped the little treat in his mouth. You whacked his hand.

“No, Astarion! And stop eating those, we still need them!”, you scolded him as your partner pouted at you for being told off.

“Alright, no more cherries, but only if you agree to come with me and get some fresh air”, Astarion proposed. You wanted to protest but the vampire hushed you. “I’m sure Gale can be trusted to not burn the house down for like half an hour alone”, he continued.

You looked at him with some suspicion: “Unlike you to trust Gale with anything but walking in a straight line.”

Astarion rolled his eyes while he already got up and made to drag you along.

“Well, unusual circumstances and the like - you know”, he went on and let his free hand draw circles in the air. You just shrugged, honestly being happy to be dragged outside for a while.

“Now come, love, get your cloak - you need a break from all the sweet and savoury dishes here”, Astarion said and patted your butt for some motivation.You grinned at him: “Alright, except for that one sweet snack, my dear.”

Tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #fanfiction #astarion x tav #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate #astarion x mc #astarion x oc #bg3holidayfluffle23 #astarion x you #astarion x reader #bg3

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bellaireland1981 · 7 months

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Bellaireland's Winter RomCom Writing Challenge!

Details:

I’ve hit 800 followers!!! First and foremost…THANK YOU! I am floored by that. To celebrate, I’ve decided to host a Winter RomCom writing challenge! I don’t know about you, but I am a sucker for RomComs, all the cheesy wintery/holiday Hallmarky movies, cliche tropes…. Love it all! What’s better than combining all of that with all of the TGM characters we love?! To sign up, comment or DM me with your Trope choice and character you’re writing for!

Rules:

You can sign up for as many tropes as you’d like!

18+ Only! Minors DNI

You can submit for a series, one shots, mood boards, drabbles, etc… The point is to HAVE FUN!

Must be appropriately labeled (Smut, Angst, warnings, Fluff….etc)

HAS to include WINTER! RomCom genre and include the TROPE you sign up for! Go crazy!

General:

Your creations are due by January 1, 2024! Tag me @bellaireland1981 and #WinterRomComChallenge in your work so that I add your link to the Challenge Page!

Tropes:

Meet Cute

Enemies to Lovers

Forced Proximity

Destiny/Soulmate

Childhood Sweethearts

Forbidden Love

Second Chance Love

Impossible Love

I have a Secret

The Bet

Fake Relationship

Love Triangle

Opposites Attract

Amnesia/Mistaken Identity

Instalove

Just Friends

Stuck Together/Snowed in/Stranded

Rags to Riches

Marriage Pact

Best Friend’s Brother

Country Inn

Home for the Holidays

Bachelor Auction (charity?)

Boy/Girl next door

Nanny

Completed Works!

9, 16, (not listed- friends to lovers)- All I Want For Christmas Is...You by @bellaireland1981 (Bradley x Female! Reader)

15,21 - Christmas on Mistletoe Mountain By @bellaireland1981 (Bradley x Female! Reader)

20 - Brighter Than a Supernova By @roosterforme (Bob x Phoenix's lil sister OC)

16- Home For Christmas by @seresinsbrat (Jake x Female! OC)

9- Merry Christmas Mishaps by @beyondthesefourwalls (Javy x Reader)

17- What Happens Now by @mikpieboo (Bradley x OC)

22- (Holi)Day by Day-1940's Historical AU by @desert-fern (Bradley x Fem!Reader)

1,4,9- Pink Christmas Part 1 by @roosterforme (Rooster x Reader)

Part 2

17- 'Tis the Damn Season by @startrekfangirl2233-writes (Javy x Reader)

Part 2 A Hazy Shade of Winter

22 Home for the Holidays Moodboard by @ryebecca (Bob Floyd)

22- Something Worth Remembering by @beyondthesefourwalls (Bradley x Reader)

@roosterforme @beyondthesefourwalls @waywardodysseys @milesdickpic Tagged people I thought/Knew would be interested but ANYONE that wants to participate! Let's have some fun!

#bellaireland writes #WinterRomComChallenge #Top gun fan fiction #bellaireland1981

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gumnut-logic · 3 months

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“Thunderbird Five, I need more information.”

“I’m sorry, Commander, I don’t have any. Too much electrical interference.”

Jeff cursed under his breath. He knew John was doing his best, but there had been so many lives lost today.

Lee wasn’t happy. All the data they had pointed to a structural fault in the mall that caused the collapse. It left Jeff grateful that his engineering son wasn’t here for the incident. Virgil reminded him of Lucy when he went off the deep end – rare but a force of nature.

But today Virgil was with Gordon for a very important moment in his little brother’s swimming career.

Jeff was disappointed that he wasn’t there for Gordon, but responsibilities were responsibilities.

“Commander?” His eldest son was covered in dust. Jeff noted the dark smears on his arms but didn’t have the time to acknowledge what they meant.

The fire in Scott’s eyes was enough.

Jeff let out a sigh. “John can’t get more detail, so we are going in almost blind.” A breath and he stared at the remaining pile of crumpled masonry. “We’ll have Two lift off that piece of roof and go from there.”

“Two is not going to be happy.”

“Yeah, well, none of us are happy. “

“FAB.”

A glance as his son started issuing commands to the team. Jeff allowed himself the briefest flash of pride. Scott had become a mainstay of International Rescue and Jeff was ever so proud.

The roar of a Thunderbird shifting overhead and Two appeared, her VTOL reflecting Lee’s mood, no doubt. His partner-in-crime had been a great help the last couple of years, filling in to help with IR when he was available. Jeff envisioned that one day perhaps all his family could be involved, so it was great to have his brother-in-law on the job.

After all IR was to be his sister’s legacy.

Lucy was never far from Jeff’s thoughts, particularly today.

She would have been so angry.

Jeff had to settle for being her vengeance.

The clunk of all four of Two’s grapples as they clamped onto the broken roof. A roar of energised VTOL and the roof lifted ever so slowly.

Slowly not because Two wasn’t capable of lifting it easily, but slow and carefully in an attempt to protect the lives possibly below it.

And they were rewarded. As the weak and wintery southern Californian sun flickered onto the newly exposed rubble, there were voices, both terrified and relieved.

Jeff signalled to Kyrano and Scott and all three of them moved to evac the rescuees.

Thirteen in total. Five didn’t make it.

They dug deeper with Two pulling off smaller and smaller pieces of rubble. Jeff found himself wishing for some kind of mechanism to lift the rocks himself. A pod wasn’t practical in this space and it hampered their progress.

The weak sun headed towards the horizon.

Virgil checked it with the good news that Gordon had won and had another trophy for his collection.

Jeff gritted his teeth as he hauled out yet another poor soul who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Scott found someone to save and for some critical moments there was activity to keep that life going. Jeff’s heart clenched as he shifted more rubble.

The night crawled over the sky and powerful lamps were set up.

It was far too many hours later when they called it. Jeff was exhausted. They were all exhausted.

He gave the order to pack up and retreat. It was always a dreaded order, but they had scoured the site and there were no signs of life left. John had managed to penetrate the majority of the electrical disturbance, which had been a relief…

“Commander?”

Jeff blinked. John sounded worried. “Thunderbird Five?”

“I’m getting a fragmentary lifesign signal. Unconfirmed.” A pause and the sound of his son pushing buttons. “I can’t clear it up. I’m sending coordinates.”

Jeff’s wristcomm flickered into life, a map of the site with the location flashing. It was in the remains of what used to be an ice cream palour. His heart dropped. “FAB, Thunderbird Five.”

He jogged over, steeling himself for what he might find. The shadows were hard and sharp, sketching out the remains of what had been a cheerful, family place. Innocuous everyday objects discarded in a disaster zone always forced him to face the horror of their existence. A statement made of the tragedy by the tragedy and the sight of the remains of ice cream tubs, tables, chairs and even broken cones in the dark dust stabbed him where it hurt.

But there were no signs of life.

He shifted rubble and moved the tables. A counter and a gaily painted menu revealed nothing of their patrons or owners.

It was all eerily silent.

Until someone whimpered.

“Can you hear me? This is International Rescue. We are here to help. Please respond.”

A pause.

No answer.

So, he repeated himself in Spanish.

The silence was ominous.

But then there was another whimper. Followed by a whine.

Jeff moved, throwing broken fixtures out of his way, narrowing in on the sound.

It wasn’t until he picked up yet another upturned ice cream tub that he realised his rescuee wasn’t human.

Curled up fearfully in the dirt was a tiny little puppy, barely recognisable, drenched in melted ice confection.

A pair of wide dark eyes looked up at Jeff in fear.

Jeff didn’t hesitate. A life was a life and he was the son of farmers as well as adventurers.

“Hey, there, little one.” He held out a gloved hand for the puppy to sniff. “I won’t hurt you.” Tone was everything.

The puppy stared at him a moment as if considering, whimpered, and tentatively sniffed at his finger.

A pitiful whine broke Jeff’s heart.

Ever so carefully, he gently picked up the puppy. When the dog didn’t protest, he stood slowly, bringing the little creature to his chest.

It shivered in the cold.

Its eyes never left Jeff’s.

He crooned nonsense words and he hurried over towards Thunderbird Two.

Lee met him halfway, all the questions on his face. Jeff shushed him with a look.

Up Two’s ramp and he found the supplies and the quiet he needed.

Gently placing the trembling puppy on a hastily gathered emergency blanket. It whined in fear.

Jeff yanked off his helmet and the smell of damp earth, broken rock and burning electronics made it up his nose, but a stronger, sweeter smell fought it all off.

The little puppy smelled of pink sherbet and childhood memories.

It whimpered again, and as Scott strode past with Lee in prep for lift off, Jeff picked up Sherbet and clutched the little dog to his chest again.

If Jeff rode home with Lee instead of with Scott on One, which was his usual choice, it was his right as Commander to not have to explain himself.

There would be questions and inquiries as to the puppy’s owner, but there was something in the little dog’s eyes that just entranced Jeff. As if it was some cosmic meant to be.

“Got yourself another kid there, Tracy?” The smirk on Lee’s face as they approached Tracy Island was fond and irritating.

Jeff glared at him. But if he was honest with himself, maybe Lee was right?

He brushed a finger over its tiny furry forehead.

It was still staring at him.

Quiet. “I’m here to help.”

He ignored Lee’s snort, as the puppy finally curled up and relaxed in his hands, promptly falling asleep.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #jeff tracy #lee taylor #john tracy #scott tracy #nuttyfic reblog #sherbet

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checkoutmybookshelf · 4 months

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I am...a Professor

I've been on a bit of a faerie kick lately, and Emily Wilde is one of my favorite human protagonists for fae books. She is objectively bad at people, but that's not unusual for academics in general. As a recovering academic, the fact that this book is about how bananas field work can go just tickled me. If you squint, there are echoes of Evy Carnahan from The Mummy in this book, and between that and the wintery vibes, this book was just a delight to read. Let's talk Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries.

Emily Wilde is a career academic whose career has been stalled by the fact that she is...straight-up bad at peopleing. Her saving grace is the solidity of her scholarship, which is why she rocks up to a rented cottage in Hrafnsvik with no grad students and no sense of how to take care of herself while in in the field. Our girl cannot split wood and doesn't so much as know how to bank a fire to stop herself from freezing to death overnight. She also accidentally manages to offend every single one of her hosts and the village headwoman, so she is in very real danger of freezing or starving to death by like chapter three.

And then Wendell Bambleby shows up on her doorstep with a pair of grad students and charm to spare.

Y'all...without giving too much away in spoiler territory, can I just say that I adore how Emily and Wendell are essentially two complimentary halves? Emily is all hardcore scholarship, the scientific method, and goal-focused to the exclusion of other people. Wendell is all flash, showmanship, people skills, and innate knowledge. They would be THE academic power couple at Cambridge...except that right from the get-go, Emily is not shy about telling us the Wendell is kind of a dumpster fire of an academic. He objectively exploits his grad students (although they do get co-authorship on papers and he doesn't sleep with them, so he's already better than most of the horror stories I was aware of in academia), he blatantly falsifies his research to basically no consequences, and he's objectively less interested in the academics than in the clout and money that comes with being a world-renowned academic.

The problem is that faeries--their chosen academic subject--aren't known for hanging around Cambridge and popping into office hours for in-depth interviews. So Emily and Wendell are both well and truly out of their comfort zones doing research in a tiny, wintery village. And for all Emily is terrible at people, she is stunningly good at faeries. Brownies, small folk, and even a changeling don't give her pause, and at no point is Emily out of her depth in terms of knowledge--even if actual magic tends to trump KNOWING that you've been magicked.

While Emily, Wendell, and the other characters are what you read this book for, the faerie lore, setting, and sheer winter vibes are phenomenal. I also loved the journal format of this book more than I thought I would. First-person journal style novels (I could maaaaaaaaaaaaaybe justify calling this an epistolary novel, but that might be stretching the genre a little, since the perspective is pretty firmly limited to Emily, with only I think two interludes from Wendell) tend to either feel like there's a lot of distance between reader and character, since the story is literally mediated through multiple meta layers of textuality, or that there isn't enough distance between character and readers. Emily being bad at people means that the book leans toward more distance, but as you get to know her, that distance closes a little, and the understated, scientific tone honestly makes some of the more objectively emotional events hit weirdly harder than they might have otherwise. I think the writing style works brilliantly with Emily as a character, and honestly the whole thing reminds me a little of Olivia Atwater's Regency Fairy Tales in tone and mood.

I am loathe to offer any plot spoilers here, because frankly this book was excellent and I strongly recommend it. It's a very, very slow burn romance with fantastic lore and Emily is a compelling character on her own merits long before she realizes what book she's in. I am absolutely psyched for Emily Wilde's Map of the Otherlands, and you will likely (eventually) get a review of that one from me as well. In the mean time, remember to be polite to you fae, bring gifts, and keep an eye on your mind just in case something decides to enchant you.

#heather fawcett #emily wilde’s encyclopaedia of faeries #emily wilde series #emily wilde #wendell bambleby #faeries #fairy tale #romance #slow burn #books and reading #books and novels #books #books & libraries #book recommendations

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originalaccountname · 7 months

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Hi! I remember drawing kitsun chuu back in may and you reblogging it and in the tags saying that in the skk dog/cat dynamic chuuya is actually a fox (or something along those lines) and i was curious what makes you think that? I just drew it without giving it much thought so i was wondering what your reasonings might be for him to be a fox 🤔

-Similar color palette

-Wearing little black gloves (and socks)

-Yelling

-Cunning

-In the case of red foxes, they live in groups

-Still a canine, but like that one post says: foxes are dog hardware running cat software. The ultimate cat-dog. (this is the most important argument in this debate)

-Foxes are associated with Japanese folklore; some of them are associated with gods and deities.

-On a meta level, This Tainted Sorrow (or however you prefer to translate it) the poem by Nakahara Chuuya makes references to foxes in the snow. This is acknowledged in one of Harukawa's art, with Chuuya surrounded by foxes in a wintery decor, and also in Storm Bringer, in the form of a coin with a fox engraved on it being used along some lines from this poem.

I feel like I'm forgetting one or two arguments more but yeah. Chuuya is super fox-coded. And specifically in the cat/dog debate, I am making him break that binairy. He is simultaneously both. Dazai for his part alternates between dog and cat unpredictably depending on his mood and who he's interacting with.

#unlike say ss.kk where the cat and dog is clearly defined by canon dynamics and inverting them seems a bit sacrilegious #skk has a lot more debates and arguments for both sides #which is why i think trying to apply an arbitrary binairy is doomed to fail in this case #their binairy is red/blue pairing and even then just barely it's more like warm/cool in their case #bsd chuuya #bsd #apparently i talk sometimes #ask answered

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a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 2 years

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A Special Treat

Pairing: Daemon and Fem. Reader

Summary : After a trip to Lys, Daemon return with a special treat for the both of you.

Themes : Soft | Smut

Word count: 2600+ words

Minors DNI

This one shot is a follow up to this list of HCs.

Dusk gathered faster than anyone anticipated.

It was, however, to be expected. The land got caught up in the first outburst of winter, one of the worst at that, if the Maesters were correct. You remembered your own father’s teachings. A long summer always meant a longer winter, and the last summer was one of the longest ever. This winter was going to be one for the record books.

You looked out a misted-up window, to the dark and gloomy world outside. Thank goodness I’m in here, you think, And not out there.

You shivered and rubbed your arms. Despite everything, the winter chill still found a way in. Needing more warmth, you decide to get a good fire going. So engrossed in your task, you didn’t hear the door opening, or the sound of someone walking in.

“Thank the gods you did that. I was freezing on the way up here.”

You dust yourself off and stand up with a grin on your face. Daemon Targaryen. Dashing prince. Lord Marshal of the Stepstones. Rogue Knight. Light of foot. And he who was freezing with cold.

“I told you to take a ship,” You chide, as you help him with his armour. The chainmail was wet and chilly to the touch, and already smelling of rust. He probably got caught in a storm somewhere out at sea. You tossed everything onto a chair, thinking of having the smith deal with them in the morning. “Instead of taking Caraxes. Or you could have just stayed home. Why you didn’t listen is beyond me.”

It wasn’t actually beyond you. This was Daemon after all, and flying over wintery seas was something he enjoyed doing. Well, just him, at any rate. His dragon loathed to do it, and would complain to his master the moment they touched ground.

He smirked. “Caraxes agrees with you. The moment we touched down he just glared at me and let out a string of snarls and hisses before stomping off to the caves.”

“Cursed you out, did he?” You went back to the hearth, to add more logs to the fire. “Good. You deserve it, I think. Traveling in winter? And to Essos?” You tut and shake your head. “Foolish, I’d say.”

Daemon, even more amused, chuckled. “I think Caraxes would agree with you on that as well. He was on the lookout for you.”

“I’ll go in the morning, when it’s warm.” Well, as warm as mornings could be on Dragonstone in winter. Fog covered the grounds in a thick, white curtain, the cold got to one’s bones, and sleeping dragons would keep to the underground caves, huddling together for warmth. “With his favourite treat, of course.”

The carcass of a sheep that had been slaughtered. “Ahh,” Daemon looked forward to accompanying you. “Well, Caraxes does love a good roast.”

That made you laugh. “Yes. Yes, he most certainly does. How was your time in Lys? Got into any trouble while you were there?”

“As a matter of fact, I almost did.” Daemon reached into the satchel he had tossed onto the table, and pulled out a polished mahogany box. “For you. Well, for us, to be more precise, but I thought you’d like it even more than me.”

You recognized the scroll-work on the box, the seal on pretty blue wax. The house of the blue lotus, the most luxurious pleasure house in Essos, and home to a witch who was said to hail from Asshai-by-the-shadow. One of her more uncommon specialties, so to speak, was in the aphrodisiacs she made for the more discerning of customers, the ones that came with very deep pockets. Your eyes widened in awe. “How did you manage to get it?”

Daemon peeled off his gloves and slipped out of his boots, his wet stockings. He sighed and took off his wet clothes before you helped him into a robe. Feeling his feet on the dry carpet, his skin rubbing up against the warm robe, put him into a much better mood. “Got into a bidding war with this ridiculous looking blue-haired Tyroshi merchant.” He said as he made his way to bed, falling into it back first, and with a deep, satisfied sigh. It was so good to be home, and with you. “Pompous little prig, thought he could outbid me.”

You knew what happened next. Daemon was so predictable in some ways. “And he would have won, had you not fiddled around with dark sister?”

“You know me so well, dārilaros.” Daemon cackled. “Yes, issa ōños, one good look at true Valerian steel and fear took root right in that grubby little heart of his.”

“He gave up in an instant.”

“Naturally.”

You hummed softly, said what you knew he’d like to hear. “Pompous prig indeed, thinking he’d stand a chance against the Rogue prince.”

Daemon perked up, his weariness forgotten, his eyes agleam in the light of the fire. “And you’re being crafty with your praise. Please, dārilaros, do let me hear more.”

Your skin tingled. Daemon’s little vice may have been for praise, but yours had been for the sound of his voice. The gods themselves couldn’t have devised a more perfect tongue, many said so. The many were right of course, and you were always one of the eager listening many.

“Procuring a hard-to-obtain delicacy just for me?” You bat your eyelashes in a way you knew he liked. Your fingers itched, aching to reach out and open the box. And what was that smell coming out of it? Your very mouth watered when you took in a deep breath, your entire body suddenly grew at ease. Whatever it was, it was already working, and working very, very well indeed.

You sighed, closed your eyes. Oh, Daemon was in for as much praise as he desired. “Going against a Tyroshi merchant just for my sake?” His eyes lit up again, as if to encourage you to go on. “My gallant prince. How can I ever thank you?”

Your words inflamed him. Daemon sat up in bed, his arms behind his head. “There are many ways in which you could thank me.” His eyes drifted to the box on the table. It was time the contents within were put to good use. “Why don’t you bring that over here, and I’ll come up with a way for you to do so.”

Finally. You take the box to him, surprised by the weight of it. What was in there?

Daemon took the box off your hands, broke the seal, and removed the ribbon. When the lid was thrown open, the smell from within spilled out into the room. You could feel your skin warming with every breath you took. “What is that?”

Daemon, thoroughly pleased with himself for procuring this, picked up a small object wrapped in glittering wax paper. “It’s a kind of sweet. Guaranteed to warm one's blood.”

“What better remedy for a cold wintery evening?” You tilt your head, to study what was in his hand. It looked no bigger than a silver star, but that smell. Gods, that smell. Your mouth watered again.

What must it taste like? Thought Daemon, as he undid the wrapping. The sweet was as heavy as a coin, its colour a glorious gold, with orange swirls. He held it out to you, to let you have the first taste. He picked up another for himself, this one with red and black whorls. The colours of his house, he mused. Very choice. He looked at you, curious about your answer. “What does it taste like?”

You plopped the sweet into your mouth and felt it melt against your tongue. The flavours that washed down your throat was like nothing you could describe. And the sensations that came with it… you felt warm, feverish, lustful. You could feel your pulse scrambling, your breath hitching. You could already feel heat gathering between your thighs. “I--” you manage, with heavy-lidded eyes. “Words cannot describe it, truly. Try it for yourself and see.”

Daemon didn’t have to be told, he could see the effect on you. The flushed cheeks, the ragged breathing. He wanted what you were experiencing. Without ceremony, he tossed his sweet into his mouth. “Oh,” he cried softly, as his breathing slowed to a ragged crawl. He could already feel his britches tightening, and he hadn’t even touched you as yet. “Oh my.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, to steady himself, as lust fogged him up. “This is choice. Very choice indeed. Come here.”

You didn’t have to be told twice. The moment you joined him in bed, Daemon maneuvered himself on top of you. “How about we get rid of these?” he cooed, as he made quick work of ripping up your dress. The ruined mess of fabric was pulled down your waist and tossed to the floor unceremoniously.

“Such a strong grip you have,” you breathed.

It did wonders to stoke the fire already burning in him. “All the better to touch you with, dārilaros.”

Oh, how he liked the way you whimpered when he used High Valeriyan on you. He ran his hands over your legs, his touch already greedy, his lips eager for a taste of you. His hands went higher and higher, not stopping until they touched linen. A quick yank, and just like your dress, your small clothes ended up in a ruined heap. “How do you feel, dārilaros?” he murmured.

You felt like heat had wrapped a gentle and loving hand all over your body, tantalizing you with promises of pleasures, the kind of which you had never experienced before. “So good, my love.” A hand moving over the inside of your thigh made you close your eyes. “So good.”

Your breath caught when a nimble finger ran over your clit. Daemon propped himself up on hand, so he could watch you. He wanted to see it all, the expressions on your face, the way your back arched, the way your lips parted with each breath you took. “That’s right, dārilaros” he growled when you mewled and your fingers reached up, to curl themselves around thick, white-blonde hair. “Whimper for me.”

That was all you could do, for his touch left you a trembling mess. He played with your pussy, touching you one way, then another, his eyes feasting on your every reaction. When his fingers finally slipped into your slick heat your eyes nearly rolled back and you whimpered, “T-that feels so g-good.”

Daemon dipped his head, eager to hear more. “How good, dārilaros?”

Feeling your cunt stretch due to his fingers made you want to scream his name. “S-so good.” Your breath shuddered when he plunged his fingers deeper, hitting your sweet spot. “No one could touch me like you.”

Daemon groaned at your answer, and groaned even more when your hand moved over his, guiding him to where you wanted him to go. He let you take the lead, finding it intoxicating when your hand squeezed over his every time his thumb graze against your wet clit. Daemon watched how you writhed, how your free hand scrabbled for purchase on the linens and nearly ripped into them whenever your walls clenched around his fingers. He nearly fell apart when you finally cried out his name. “What else,” he growled, his voice deep and heady. “Tell me, dārilaros.”

Every time his fingers hit that sweet spot you saw stars. “I--” You felt his weight shift. Daemon was right on top of you now, the tips of his hair brushing against your cheek. His free hand clamped around yours, pinning it down to the mattress. “I love the way you --mmm!”

He had brought you close to release. Too close, and not the way he wanted it. Daemon didn’t want you cuming on his fingers. His body demanded more than that. “Go on, dārilaros.” He pulled out and threw off his robe. “I want to hear more.”

You forced your eyes open. He had hiked your legs over his waist and lifted your hips. When you felt the tip of his cock rub against your throbbing pussy your eyes rolled back this time, and you felt like sobbing when he teased you, sliding his cock in for just a fraction, giving you a taste, before pulling it out again. He wasn’t going to do more until he actually heard more. “I--” your breath shuddered when he entered you again, only to pull out after a moment. “I love how good your cock feels inside me.”

Music to his ears. He let his cock sink into your clit again, this time going in inch by glorious inch, making you feel fuller. “I love how your body feels on top of mine,” you breathe, when he brought his weight down on you, caging you to the bed. Daemon could feel his head spinning. He finally cupped your cheek, making you look up at him. “Are you all right? Is this comfortable for you?”

More than, but he still needed to hear it. “Yes.”

His lips twitched up as he pulled his hips back, leaving you empty. When you reared up and kissed him, he slammed his hips against you, making you fall back into bed, crying out in ecstasy. Daemon felt your arms circle around his shoulders, your fingers digging into his skin. He dipped his head again, this time for his lips to ravish yours. His kisses left you breathless. His tongue slipped past parted lips to flick against yours. He soon found a rhythm you both liked, slowing down, then going faster, one hand on your neck, to keep you steady. Your legs struggled for purchase on his hips, your back arching every time his cock stretched your already throbbing walls. “C-cl-close,” you mewled. “S-so cl-close.”

“Good,” he rasped, “dārilaros.”

Feeling you shudder beneath him was too much. Daemon had been away for too long, the sweets had worked their magic and he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. “Cum for me, dārilaros” He breathed into your ear. “Cum on my cock.”

Your nails dug into his shoulders as he rode you, hard and relentless. Daemon latched onto the exposed crook of your neck, his kisses drawing out moan after moan, his own matching yours. You prayed he could hold on, for his body had already grown tense. Please, you silently plead. Just a little longer.

When he lifted your hip to go in deeper, he found that sweet spot once more and made you see stars all over again. Your muscles started to coil, your breath grew to shallow pants. Your grip on his back tightened as you felt your cunt tighten and pull him even deeper. Close, so close now. One more thrust and your back arched, like a coil that had been snapped. “D-daemon…”

You couldn’t think, couldn’t even breathe, as your body splintered beneath his. Your pussy kept throbbing around his cock as your orgasm ripped through you. Your eyes closed, but not before you heard a satisfying grunt, and the weight of Daemon’s heaving body came to rest on yours.

You swallowed, and opened your eyes. You still felt fuzzed up from the effects of the sweet. You felt Daemon’s chest heaving into yours, his still shallow breaths. “I take back what I said earlier,” you say dreamily. “It was a good thing you went to Essos, and got those sweets.”

Daemon managed a chuckle as his fingers curled around your hair. He moved to his side, taking you with him. “Really? Well, when the weather clears, how about we go together, you and I?”

---

Translations.

Dārilaros : Princess

Issa ōños : My light

#daemon x reader #daemon targaryen #house of the dragon #reader inserts #daemon smut #writeblr #fanfiction #daemon x you #daemon imagine

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http-mianhae · 10 months

Text

04 ➛ you can run but you can't hide ( 0.9k )

literally everyone's pov LMAO. i thought it was better for this chapter to be laid out this way :D enjoy!!1 im sorry if its not that good

matthew considers himself a quick learner. from when he was hired by his manager, he undoubtedly adjusted to the circumstances of his workplace like a pro. from the customer service language at 'sip & soothe' to the discovering his own style of coffee art which customers adored. he's a natural. customer service is his forté―he had a salesman approach to selling coffee which was distracted by his perfect, loving smile.

of course, he'd pay his respects to his master, zhang hao (for teaching him), who was not a manager but a favourite of the manager.

matthew wasn't a favourite for unknown reasons but he still thinks he's a perfect worker. maybe even more perfect than the manager.

so, as the wintery morning rumbles by, imagine his surprise when after making a lady pay a little more than she should've for her coffee (they had a 'buy one, get one free' for their new menu items until 12pm), when he saw you saunter in, looking around the coffee shop.

there's an obvious break in his face as he tells the customer to have a lovely day while his lovely day chips away.

you start walking towards the counter and matthew's customer smile doesn't budge from his face.

"hi!"

there's a look of recognition in your eyes as you skim matthew's face.

"h-hi."

his smile drops.

"um...it's my first day working here, i'm supposed to start my training in a couple minutes." she explains.

all hell breaks lose.

"oh." matthew replies, trying to smile but sweat mulls in beads over the expansion of his face, "i'll―"

"are you alright, matthew?" hao's voice comes from behind matthew and all he can think is how he can run away from here without it seeming awkward.

"um...can you please take over? i need to do something, i forgot." matthew excuses, dismissively walking off from behind the counter.

he doesn't know where he's going but he's not remaining here with this buried betrayal. and as he walks out from behind the register and out the exit, your gaze follows him, only making it worse.

"i'm sorry, do you mind waiting a little?" hao asks you, tilting his head.

how could you say no?

"of course not, i'm fine waiting."

hao also takes his departure from behind the counter. you begin reading the menu board, trying to memorise some of the drink names as you usually get the same drink every time.

meanwhile, matthew wonders outside the store, away from any windows as to expose him from his internal breakdown.

he can't believe hao lied to him. how could he?

sitting down on the snowy bench, he wonders why he deserved to be lied to.

why didn't he tell me the truth?

it doesn't take long for zhang hao to find him sitting outside, freaking out in the cold.

"matthew." hao calls.

"you lied to me, hyung." matthew says, looking up to his sorry face.

hao waits a beat before replying, knowing he'd be stepping into untouched territories.

"i know. but aren't you happy? your crush is working with you!" hao responds, trying to lighten up the mood with his bright smile.

matthew rolls his eyes, a burden slowly falling onto him, "happy? my crush is working with me after you told her that stupid pickup line."

hao frowns, "i'm sorry, matthew. that was stupid of me, i promise i was just trying to help and not make things worse."

"and, you have, because now she's working with us..."

hao sighs, taking the seat next to matthew, "well, when you put it that way, it kind of sucks."

"kind of?" matthew scoffs.

the cold wasn't helping as it nips their skin, forcing them closer to each other from body warmth as the uniform offers very little of the element.

"hey," hao begins and matthew knows he's going to hear a speech. he braces himself for it, not wanting to be influenced by hao's persuasive language, "you should be excited! even if i told that stupid pickup line, the girl you've been keeping an eye on for months is working with you. she's not working anywhere else, she's working at our store! after this, if you try and get to know her properly, something could happen between the two of you."

why was hao so good at convincing him?

maybe because he was right.

he thinks over the words of wise-hao, understanding that there was truth in them and that sitting here was a waste of time when his crush was inside, waiting to be taught the regularities at 'sip & soothe'.

matthew takes a deep breath and then, jumps up.

he's anew.

"okay, you're right." he replies, "let's go back in before i change my mind."

they go in to find the girl behind the counter, tying her hair up and their brown apron tied up.

matthew's breath hitches.

"the uniform is cute." she tells the manager who walks in just in time.

"i agree...anyways, now that these two are here, it's safe to say that matthew will be training you for you four-hour shift." the manager replies.

matthew tries to run away again (LMAO) but his heels are stuck to the ground and his arms are rigid. on top of that, hao's nails are digging into matthew's wrist.

it's like a warning.

so, matthew does what he's always been good at.

showing off his customer service smile.

previous | masterlist | next

SUMMARY ➛ in which matthew has a huge crush on a regular that comes to the coffee shop he works at and after accidentally, somehow, without intending to (glares at zhanghao) hitting her up with a pickup line, he vows to never want to see her again. what happens when she starts working there the next day?

PAIRING ➛ seok matthew x fem!reader

GENRE ➛ coffee shop smau, crack, dirty jokes, matthew being a cute dork, may include jiwoong x seobin here and there, shuhua is in this and she's so mother

lmk if you want to be in the taglist!

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gottagho-st · 6 months

Text

it’s currently like 30ish degrees (celsius) but also storming which is Not Fun for the asthma, but it also got me thinking about the ghouls and weather which seems like a great way to distract myself from the humid misery i’m living rn lmfao

i know plenty of people have spoken about that kinda thing before but i wanted to add my thoughts :))

Only a couple of ghouls under the cut - I will probably add to this as I think of more ideas 🫶🦇

Mountain 🏔️

He’s an earth ghoul so as expected, he loves the changes that come with the transition from winter to spring. The way he can sit immersed in nature and feel the earth around him breathe back to life, the plants awakening from their slumber. Everything about spring is beautiful to him, that includes the endless days of rain and sunshine battling for dominance, even when he wishes the rain would cease to enjoy the warmth of the sun - he knows his plants need it.

I also think that he would sort of respect the opposite transition of the seasons, at the end of summer - once the time for harvest has come to a close - and the earth is preparing itself for the hardships of the winter. Autumn is quietly probably his favourite season of all, the beauty of his plants knowing that they must die back so that they may have the opportunity to flourish when the time is right again. He could spend quiet hours in the greenhouses, revelling in the shelter they provide whilst he is still immersed in the crisp air of fall, bundled against cool gusts of wind. he would prepare all of his ‘drama-queen’ plants with such tender care, how could he not adore this time of year?

Dewdrop 🔥

Depends on his mood - when he was still water it was always the sunniest, hottest days that he found himself looking forward to, simply because it meant an opportunity to not only immerse himself in his element to cool off, but the rest of the pack tended to join him down at the lake when it was hot enough. He loved to be there with his family and his element all rolled into one!

Once he transitioned, he started to resent heat more - he could never escape it now, and the cool waters of the lake that once were comforting now seem to make his skin crawl. So when he’s most comforted as a fire ghoul is long wintery nights, after a slight dusting of snow. Those are the evenings where he feels the most valuable, providing his pack with warmth and love whilst they huddle together. However, if he is already vulnerable, the snow is simply too much for him to handle, the way he once could walk out and feel in kiss his skin if he so wished, ripped away after the transition. Icy particles long turned to steam before they reach his body. At these times, what he craves most his a gentle evening breeze, the kind at the end of summer, where he feels most at peace with the flames flowing through his veins.

Cirrus 🌪️

She is of course very attuned to the air itself, the atmosphere and its behaviour influences her very soul. However, Cirrus was born of the tempestuous winds of the Pit, so while she is enthralled by the gentlest of gusts rolling in over the lake, her body and heart and soul sing at the first signs of a storm on the horizon.

Her favourites are those with less rain - although hail and sometimes even snow make the phenomenon even more interesting to her. Simple storms that whip her hair from its braids with the power of their winds, when she can taste the electricity in the air before every devastatingly beautiful strike of lightning, with the rumble of thunder overhead, those are the ones that she cherishes most. It’s even better in the evenings, just after the sun has sunk into the earth, when she can sit just beyond the abbey’s doors and immerse herself in her element.

Aurora 🌌

The pack all expected her to be the type of ghoul to enjoy the picture-perfect ‘just warm enough’ spring days, and she does cherish those, for they are when she gets to spend precious time with her family, all of them drawn outside to help mountain with whichever project is most pressing at the time. However, she has come to realise over her time topside, that she sees herself in the heaviest of rains, when torrents come pouring from above, soaking the earth and everything on it, blocking the blue of the sky with only grey. Her heart yearns for the days throughout autumn where it is not yet cold enough for snow, and she can relish in the steady beat provided by water cascading over the grounds laid out around the abbey.

She doesn’t simply watch and listen though. No, Aurora is always able to be found out in the grassy fields by the greenhouses, dancing in the downpour - a ritual of worship to the Lord below for providing her the freedom to experience the changes in climate topside. Originating from a perpetually parched, dry desert within the pit, her heart swells at the opportunity to become drenched by nature itself.

#the band ghost #nameless ghouls #nameless ghoul headcanons #spooks ramblin’#spooks hcs #ghost band #mountain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #cirrus ghoulette #aurora ghoulette

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lumi-nescentt · 6 months

Note

ooooo tell us about Home Is Where The Heart Is pls

Thank you for asking <3 i'm having a little fan girl moment cause I love your fics

Okay so once again the title is from Taylor Swift and since this one is from London Boy and the rest of the line is but God I love the English, I thought I'd make it about George

It's going to be a xmas fic again bc I'm in a wintery mood lately with the holidays coming. Since I'm feeling pretty homesick, I thought why not make it a little bit sad and have the reader miss home and have George comfort her :)

I haven't actually started writing it yet but as soon as I'm done with my exams I'm getting into it

#lu's chats #wip ask game #f1 x reader #f1 fandom #formula one x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x female reader #george russell x reader

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ravendruid · 1 year

Note

For the vaxleth sentence prompt: Please make the pain go away.

Send me a sentence and I'll write a Vaxleth drabble. This is the last drabble that I'll be doing for this prompt until the mood strikes me again. <3 Thank you everyone who sent me a prompt. I appreciate it ^_^

Please make the pain go away.

Keyleth was surrounded by fire and pain. Although not engulfed in flames, her body burned badly. Her skin was clammy, and sweat dripped down her neck and onto her back, the thick droplets trailing a path along her spine. She could distinguish the shapes of humanoid creatures between the flames, bodies lying on the ground, or those that were still up, almost crumbling over themselves. Panic filled her as she focused her gaze on them and recognized the faces of her friends and family. Pike, Scanlan, Grog, Vex, Percy, Korrin, her mom, Allura, Kima, and Gilmore. Keyleth searched frantically. Someone was missing, someone she both anxiously needed and deaded to find: Vax. The hot was getting worse – how is that even possible? – and Keyleth’s legs started to falter as they burned. Her body was too heavy for them, and she needed to find her way out. But Vax… He was probably fine. He was probably safe. Maybe he found the way out. Keyleth kicked and screamed and tried to run from the flames, but she arrived at a dead end. A wave of disappointment and failure washed over Keyleth as she faced death.

Keyleth’s eyes snapped open, and she sat upright, panting hard. Her body was drenched in sweat, and her nightgown stuck to her boiling skin. Across the room, she saw an opened window and, just outside, the flickering lights of Whitestone on a wintery night. The smell of burned wood and herbs filled her nostrils, and she looked around her room for the source. Keyleth was alone, and the room was dark, but she could still see silhouettes of objects thanks to her fey ancestry. The embers on the bottom of the fireplace and the half-empty cup of tea on a side table by the window seat told her it hadn’t been long since someone had been in the room with her. She knew it had to be Vax, from the discarded armor on the floor, by the door, and the boots at the end of the bed. Her heart filled with hope. He’s fine.

Pain shot through her body, and Keyleth doubled over herself in agony, screaming as tears started coming down of their own volition. There was a loud noise from the heavy wooden door hitting the stone wall and naked feet running in her direction.

“Keyleth!” Vax screamed. There was a touch, and then it was gone with a hiss. “Fuck, you’re burning.”

“Vax,” Keyleth’s voice trembled as she turned to look at him. The pain worsened, and her throat constricted. “Please, make the pain go away.” She cried.

—

Vax was no healer. Sure, he had some healing magic, but he was not Pike, and Vax didn’t know what to do. All he knew was that his girlfriend was in pain, and her body was burning. Panic filled him, and tears prickled in his eyes. Please, please. Help me. Please, help me save her. Please. Vax closed his eyes, hovering his hands above Keyleth, who cried loudly on the bed, and he focused on the Raven Queen, on the powers she gave him. She didn’t have to answer him. Their relationship was complicated enough as it was, and She did not have to give Vax anything. She did not have to help him any more than she did. Yet, Vax felt her ethereal presence around him, and a disembodied voice echoed words he could not understand.

“Please,” He begged out loud this time, as Keyleth’s cries turned into screams.

Magic surged through Vax’s body, from his toes to the tips of his hair and fingertips. It wasn’t the cold dark feeling he felt whenever he did her bidding and helped the souls traverse the planes, no. This magic was dark but, at the same time, warm. Vax placed his hands on Keyleth’s back, and he felt the heat burn him, although, this time, it spread through his body. Sweat dripped down his neck and back, and when he thought he couldn’t take it any longer, a wave of unmeasurable pain shot through him. For a moment, he screamed as loud as Keyleth, and then, just as fast, it disappeared, and he was left panting hard in unison with her.

“Fuck,” Vax doubled on himself, his hands sliding to hold onto the edge of the bed. His hair was stuck to his face, and his clothes were damp.

“Vax?” Keyleth’s voice was weak, but when Vax looked at her, she smiled.

Vax lay next to her on the bed and pulled her over to lie on his chest. They were both drenched in sweat, but it didn’t matter. She was fine.

“Thank you,” Keyleth whispered as Vax rubbed a hand up and down her back.

“I have no idea what that was,” he said, kissing her forehead, “but I hate it.”

“I’m exhausted. Will you stay?”

Vax chuckled at the question. They had been sleeping together every night for months, yet every night Keyleth asked him the same question, and he always gave her the same answer, “Of course, Kiki. I will stay forever and a day.”

#critical role #cr fic #vox machina #vaxleth #prompted #thank you so much for the prompt #I hope you like it <3 #sorry it took me a while xD

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void-galaxy-shenanigans · 4 months

Text

(Written by Nico on 5 January 2024)

(( // is to clearly break apart stanzas))

Medication Number One

I am now officially on medication.

I have never been on prescription meds before

so I immediately notice the difference as it kicks in.

These are meds for

bipolar depression:

mood stabilizers still,

which I expected—

but these are for bipolar depression

which I didn’t know I had.

I thought this was

regular depression, clinical depression,

and yet the bipolar meds are working.

As soon as it kicked in

it’s like I was living in a snow globe,

wintery and cold

and thick fog so I couldn’t see in front of me,

and now the fog has lifted

There are still clouds overhead

but the fog is no longer

making it impossible to see a future

where I am still alive.

My emotions flow,

my brain is clear.

It’s easier to switch

and share control.

We’re only twenty four.

It’s nine years past our

declared life expectancy,

our self imposed limit.

We’re so much older than we thought we’d be

but still so young

with so much room and time

to grow, to exist, to take up space, to heal.

It’s harder to mask the autism and ADHD

but in a good way

regulatory stims flow

and I am free.

The lack of sensory prioritization

is not overwhelming,

because I have the spoons to process it all;

I am able to manually prioritize now.

I am able to speak a little easier,

like some barrier has been lifted,

and I am able to exist

without crippling shame.

The shame and burden of existence

is quiet now.

¿Is this what

everyone else was experiencing?

¿Is life supposed to be

easier, even fun?

#void_galaxy_poems #~Nico #medication #medication tw #cw medication #healing from trauma #healing #bipolar disorder #bipolar depression #depression

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icestarphoenix · 2 years

Note

Michigan and/or Tennessee headcanons please

Tennessee will be worked on after Michigan :D

Michigan Headcanons

Michigan’s State Spirit is blue snow or ice. When he’s in more of a Yooper mood, it becomes snow. When he feels more like a flatlander, it becomes ice. [#3391E4]

Blue is for water and the lakes as well as red vs. blue contrast with Ohio.

The snow and ice relates to freshwater ponds and lakes and the wintery vibe of being a northern Midwest state, the Mitten State, and the Water-Winter Wonderland.

Snow is for the upper peninsula because I thought of snow capped mountains, ice is for the lower peninsula because I thought of ponds and lakes frozen over (flat hehe)

The form having two distinct states relates to how Michigan’s shape has two distinct peninsulas that split it into two landmasses.

Ohio spitefully interprets his Spirit as proof that Michigan is a coldhearted and hostile [technical glitch].

Michigan’s fake human name is Michael Ford.

Ford is from the river crossing meaning the word and name has as well as a nod to the Ford Motor Company that was founded in Michigan.

He has been called Misha before to cover slip-ups, and this seems to be the only name of his that Alaska can remember, even more than his real state name.

He likes working on cars. As such, his clothes often smell of grease and oil. In addition, he also likes building model car sets and has a collection of his finished ones.

Detroit is also the Motor City for being the center of the American automobile industry.

Has a sweet tooth and loves chocolate fudge and cherry pie. A proud fudgie, he always comes back to the Statehouse with a big ol’ batch that he’s willing to share with anyone except for Ohio.

Mackinac Island is the fudge capital of the world. Ten thousand pounds of fudge can be made daily during tourism season.

Michigan is the top producer of tart cherries in the country as its climate is one of the best for growing them. Traverse City is considered the cherry capital of the world with its own week-long National Cherry festival. Tart cherries are more suitable for pies than sweet cherries.

Quite proud of having the University of Michigan being the Harvard of the West (before Stanford) and often holds this title over Ohio and his Ohio State.

The University of Michigan had been called the Harvard of the West so much that JFK jokingly referred to himself during a presidential campaign speech as being “a graduate of the Michigan of the East, Harvard University.”

California often holds their tongue whenever Michigan refers to it as they see Stanford as the Harvard of the West. Michigan hasn’t been that mean to them yet and they don’t want to give him a reason to.

#replies!#welcome to the table #welcome to the statehouse #ben brainard #wttt #wttsh #wttt michigan #headcanons #dont worry i havent forgotten about you #just been struggling to get creativity flowing where i want it to

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semper-legens · 4 months

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198. The Dark is Rising, by Susan Cooper

Owned?: Yes Page count: 180 My summary: Will Stanton, seventh son of a seventh son, has a secret he doesn’t know. But on his eleventh birthday, he awakens as an Old One, a servant of the Light. Throughout the land, the Dark is rising, and Will has been given a quest. Find the six Signs and unite them, or give in forever to the darkness… My rating: 4/5 My commentary:

And I'm back! Sorry about the extended hiatus there - January is traditionally a time for me where I struggle to get my head back in gear after the holidays, and my motivation to do…well…anything has been at a bit of a low. Regardless, however, I'm here now! And I'm ready to cover the last three books I read in 2023 - starting with The Dark is Rising. Longtime readers of this blog will know that rereading the Dark is Rising sequence around Christmas time is something of a tradition here, and I was determined to keep it up last year. Since this blog is for chronicling my thoughts on each readthrough, I won't be talking about every aspect of the book, just touching on what I thought and noticed this time around. Got it? Good. In we go!

One of the things I'm thinking about on this readthrough is mystery. See, there's a lot of magic and Old Ones and ancient laws going on in this text, but not much in the way of straight explanation about what any of it is. Oh, don't get me wrong, there's enough exposition to serve for the purposes of the present narrative, but a lot of what the Old Ones are and how they work is left for the reader to infer. How many Old Ones are there, and what are they doing while the events of the plot bear out for Will? What does it mean that Will is the youngest of the Old Ones? Who is the Lady? So much is left unsaid, even when Will is being given all the answers from the Book of Gramerye. It's a neat little device, and I think it works well here.

The other thing is the use of mood and atmosphere. I always think of the first four Dark is Rising books as being themed after different time periods - respectively, summer, winter, spring, and autumn. The wintery landscape does such a good job of setting that bleak, oppressive atmosphere, and I really like the contrast of the blanketing white snow being a conduit for the Dark - it's an interesting little piece of colour symbolism, showing that white isn't necessarily good, which I want to see more of in media. You really feel this book, is what I'm saying. From the incredibly evocative scene where Will travels in time to Good King Wenceslas to the biting cold of the thaw in the climax, the book sets up a perfect winter mood and uses it to its full advantage.

Next, power from the Greenwitch, lost beneath the sea.

#The Dark Is Rising #Susan Cooper #bookblr #book blog #book blogger #4

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ben-miller-art · 4 months

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Heed of Winter

In a wintery mood (despite being in Los Angeles) so I thought I'd apply it.

I actually started out feeling really lost and hating this, but I forced myself to finish, and I'm glad I did!

#my art #winter #spooky #nordic #cold #january

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gumnut-logic · 2 years

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Theory: Sherbet doesn't like Parker in the early days because he is Not Jeff, and Jeff's that one person that dogs get really attached to and Must Sit On the moment they sit down

This is soooo your fault :: mock glares at you and then tackle hugs you to the ground::

Thank you to @onereyofstarlight for the read through and reassurance :D

I kinda took it other places as well. I hope you enjoy it :D Likely more parts to follow, but gotta dash to work at the moment.

Warnings: non-graphic rescue scene.