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readychilledwine · 7 days

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Kissed by Fire pt 3

Summary - Amelia Archeron, the oldest of the made sisters, sacrificed more than her sisters would ever understand, and more than she would ever allow them to know. Now, they want her to sacrifice her one chance at happiness, too.

Warnings - Amelia was a prostitute, body insecurities, mentions of abuse, and the author's loose understanding of chess, but using it more as symbolism and foreshadowing

A/n - it's happeniiiiiing. Things are short and sweet to allow me to make a giant scene where Eris and Amelia meet in the next chapter, and we get to hear Eris say my favorite Eris line to her 🫠

Series Masterlist ✨️ Eris Masterlist ✨️ Master Masterlist

Rhys sat across from Amelia, a chessboard set up between them.

He was ruining a game he and Azriel had been playing before he left for the Mountain, but he could not think of any other way to explain to Amelia how powerful and valuable she was, and this was a language the oldest sister would understand after years of playing with her father.

“Lower fae with minimal powers,” he grimaced at the term, “would be like the pawn pieces.” He held one obsidian Pawn in his hand. “They're able to move one space toward but can not go back. Lesser fae can sometimes winnow, but if they make it is another conversion entirely, and they will be worn magically from the effort.”

Amelia nodded. She watched as Rhys picked a bishop, “Low fae with more magic singing through them would be like a bishop. Larger winnowing patterns are possible but still limited.”

“Most fae who prefer to call themselves by their race, such as my illyrians, would be similar to a knight. Capable of larger movements and typically able to jump exactly where they want, granted, most would rather just fly, so winnowing is not a skill the Illyrians truly care about.”

“All brawn no brain,” Rhys smiled at her statement.

His hand moved to a rook. “High fae would be similar to the rook. Typically they're able to go wherever they like within reason, but the jump may be difficult and use more magic than expected.”

He ignored the king piece, the least valued piece in chess, and moved to the queen. “You, my dear Amelia, are the queen piece. There is no limit on your movement,” he paused, ensuring she was looking at him. “Through our world or into another if wanted.”

“Lovely. What exactly does that mean?”

Rhys smiled at Amelia, watching as she rotated in her seat to stare at the map of constellations he had charted many years ago. “It means you can lead whole armies into new worlds and territories by just looking at one of those strings that holds the fabrics of our world together. It means the realm, our world, can communicate to you where to go when you ask and you can get there regardless of the distance with less than half the amount of effort it takes for a High Lord to winnow from Spring to the Night Court.”

He paused, looking at the map with her. “It means you could pull one of those strings and open a rift to a new world. If they are out there.”

“And why is this such a useful skill that you all are now fighting about taking me to Hewn City?” Amelia clocked Rhys straighten slightly, eyes glaring.

“You've been listening to conversations not meant for you again.”

Amelia leaned forward, wrapped in that sweater that made Rhysand's skin crawl anytime he saw it. “Perhaps you all should not discuss someone like they aren't sitting in the same home as you. Who is Eris?”

Rhys sighed, leaning forward to meet her at eye level and show her he would not, and would never, be intimated by her. “Eris is Lucien's older brother. He is a heartless, cruel, and selfish asshole.”

Amelia rolled her eyes. “I've been around my fair share of bad men, Rhys.

“Not that were over 500 years old and used words for warfare. Eris likes powerful things. He will see you as an object for collection.”

“Sounds familiar," Rhysand glared at her serpent smile, "You assume I would allow myself to be collected.”

“I assume it would be best to protect you and not risking him charming his way to you.”

“So, he's charming.” Rhys could help but laugh, watching as Amelia smiled too, the air feeling lighter. “I still think you should let me go.” She batted her lashes at him, watching as his chest stilled and smirked.

“You are dangerous as well. Batting those pretty eyes to get your way. Have you always been like this?”

“No,” she replied softly. He watched her mind go back to a simpler time, chasing a young Feyre through the market in fine clothing before going back to the night she sold everything to keep them alive. “I was made dangerous.”

Amelia stared at the scrap of the clothing Feyre was holding up to her. She could have sworn this was Rhysand mocking her, attacking her despite the period of almost friendship they'd had the past week.

“I'm not wearing that,” Amelia curled into herself, hugging herself tighter. “That isn't even a dress.” The dress, if she caved to Feyre's desires and called it that, was surprisingly white. But it would cover nothing.

Amelia had worn dresses like it before. Dresses meant to entice and entertain. Dresses meant for seduction. Dresses meant to flaunt. She hated them every time. Her mother and grandmother had beaten modesty into her, and her former line of work had ripped it apart. She had hoped in this new body, this new life, she could go back to the safety fabric offered.

Rhys had promised never again. He promised her safety. This dress wasn't safety. “Ask Rhys if there's something else I can wear.”

Feyre's smile fell. “I am high lady of this court-”

“Then if it was your idea, I will remind you that you are my sister. My baby sister. Asking me to wear this is so violating, Feyre. I would never ask that of you. Regardless of my status over you." The one you constantly hang over my head was left unspoken. It was resentment on Amelia's end, just annoyance at Feyre's newfound entitlement.

“Do you not want to reclaim your body? Hybern took your human body from you. Don't you want to own what you have now?”

Amelia could hardly believe what she was hearing as she mentally called for Rhys, and he appeared. “I do not have to wear that to reclaim myself.” The High Lord's eyes were wide as he took the dress from Feyre. They were communicating silently between them, the female glaring up at her husband.

“I had a different dress commissioned in case you said no to this one. We do allow choice in this court,” Rhys started slowly, taking Feyre's jaw in his hand. “If your sister likes this one so much, she can wear it herself.”

Amelia couldn't help but smile at the two of them. Despite her and Feyre never being as close as she would have liked, seeing her happy, seeing Feyre smile, brought Amelia joy. “You look beautiful when you're happy, Feyre.” You watched her sister flush and Rhysand smile wide. “Even if your mate is mediocre.” The male's mouth fell open as Feyre began to laugh, eyes sparkling at the sign of life coming back to Amelia.

“Lia! You can't say that,” her voice was laced with giggles as Rhysand stood there in shock, seemingly too stunned to speak. “I think you broke him.”

“Good,” Amelia kissed her brother's cheek softly before taking the dress, caving to Feyre's wants for once in her younger sister's life. “He needs to be humbled every so often. I will wear this once. Then, I want things that cover a bit more. We can compromise on design." Feyre sighed as Amelia kissed her temple, that once motherly love healing a small part of her. "I am going to freeze in this."

“What do you want in return?”

“Freedom for the night. No brooding male following my every footstep. No wings hovering in the distance. Just freedom for one night.”

Feyre did not give Rhysand time to fight. “Deal!”

Eris hated Hewn City. He had since he was first brought to the Mother forsaken place as a child, but now it reminded him all too much of that mountain. Of Amarantha.

He wondered how Rhysand had the strength to be down or if the strength was just another finely crafted mask the male wore.

His usual room had not changed since he was last here over a hundred years ago. Eris threw himself on the bed, allowing a few moments of rest on the dark sheets and blanket before he would have to get dressed into the fine trousers and jacket he had packed himself.

He had no worries about Keir. Dealing with that male was easy. If he believed he was benefiting from whatever he was offered, he normally took the bait without question.

He had packed an exquisite outfit, smiling at the amount of his father's money sewn into each thread. He checked it over, ensuring nothing was loose and out of place before getting dressed. He could already hear the music, the laughter, and smirked, knowing he was late and would walk in while Rhysand was already sat on his throne.

He walked along the palace walls, waiting until the doors opened before entering. Azriel was the first to spot him, immediately going to Rhysand and whispering in his ear. He felt those violet eyes on him studying him, but nothing mattered to Eris as much as what he saw.

There, on the dance floor, was the most beautiful female he had ever seen. For Eris, nothing else mattered. There was no one else there.

It was just her.

That beautiful creature, laughing too hard to be deemed appropriate. Smiling larger than she should. Dancing with every male that asked.

She was an enigma, and Eris was more than ready to dive into every complex piece of her.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects

Kissed by Fire:

@justdreamstars @coralseacourt @kemillyfreitas @impossibelle @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @isa1b2h3 @glaciuswduo

@mybestfriendmademe @st4r-girl-official @fandomarchiveilyd @chasing-autumns-chill @tequilya @skyesayshi @maddybraps @acourtofbatboydreams @homeslices @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @believinghurts @going-through-shit

#acotar #eris vanserra #acotar x oc #pro eris vanserra #eris vanserra fic #eris vanserra x archeron!oc #eris vandaddy #eris x oc #eris x archeron!oc #eris vanserra acotar #eris vanserra x oc #eris acotar #eris fic

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vienssunshine · 9 months

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You Taste Sweeter Than Revenge

pairing: Josh Washington x fem reader nsfw word count: 4.2k content warning: non-con elements (voyeurism) author's note: I think Josh having a love interest would get in the way of his "prank"

Finally, finally, you get a moment to yourself. You lean your head back against the wooden door of the guest room, basking in your long-awaited solitude.

The process of getting everyone up and settled at the Washingtons’ lodge was draining: Chris wouldn’t shut up about how he caught Sam snooping on his phone, Emily and Jess were at each other's throats over Mike, and Mike and Matt kept competing to be the alpha of the group.

And then there was Josh. Though not as much of a headache as the others, he stirred up some feelings in you that are…more intense than you expected.

Compared to the strong personalities of your friend group, Josh is someone you can relax around; he’s a little peculiar, but sweet and charming in his own way. You two have a strong friendship, however, due to his tendency to be a flirt, you sometimes question the nature of your bond. His teasing affects you more than you’re willing to admit, especially since you find him easy to look at. Thankfully, the comforting knowledge that he says that kind of stuff to everyone allows you to maintain the friendship and keep your attraction as low-key as possible.

Except, you’re having a difficult time with that right now. You can only blame yourself, you’ve been suppressing your feelings towards Josh for so long that it makes sense they’d bubble back up at some point. You just didn’t expect it to be tonight, or to be this bad—every cell in your body is pulsing with desire.

You make your way over to the bed, lying down on it and staring at the ceiling.

Fuck, how does he do this to you?

It started simple, totally harmless. Sam wanted hot water to take a bath, so Josh brought you down to the basement to help him out.

"Hey, it worked!" you exclaimed after hearing the low rumble of the boiler firing up.

“Attagirl,” Josh said, giving you a high-five.

His praise caused a shy smile to break out across your face before you could stop it, making you pray he didn't notice. He did.

"Seems like you're really into high-fives," Josh remarked, "Or, is it the person you're high-fiving?"

He's like this with everyone, you reminded yourself, any flirty banter was nothing special.

"Just love a good high-five," you said, avoiding his eyes by looking down to the basement’s cracked cement.

“Floor that interesting?” he teased, taking a step forward.

His movement prompted you to step back, but you stumbled when your heel hit the shelving unit full of boxes behind you.

Josh’s hands landed on your shoulders, steadying you, but even after you recovered, they stayed there, unmoving. With your eyes now adjusted to the dim basement light, you could note that he had moved much closer than what was necessary to help you. One small lean forward would press his chest to yours.

“Josh?” you said, searching for an explanation for the sudden but—though it makes you feel guilty thinking it—welcome closeness.

A mischievous grin lit up his face and he returned your question with one of his own: “Scared?”

You let your hand fall down onto his chest, fingers fiddling with a button on his flannel. “Not at all,” you responded. You attempted to make eye contact with him after answering, but it felt too intimate with him so close, so you turned your gaze away, yet no matter where you cast it, you’d still see him, his body was enveloping yours.

“Ah, I see, so you’re scared and a liar,” Josh retorts with a smirk. His hand came up to your jaw, holding your face still so you couldn’t avoid looking at him anymore, “What’re you so afraid of, little kitten?”

“Don’t call me that,” you deflected, rolling your eyes. Even though you were trying to come off as unaffected, little sparks flickered and fizzed in your body like summertime fireworks. Was this how a friend should make you feel?

“Oh? Is there something better I should call you instead?” Josh said, tracing his thumb along your jaw. “I can come up with something. Let’s see…honey?” He shook his head, “Nah, too marital. Hmmm, baby? That’s pretty basic, isn’t it?”

“You done yet?” you huffed, shifting your weight and continuing to pretend that hearing him call you pet names wasn’t making your stomach flip. He was being more persistent than usual, it made you wonder what was going on with him tonight.

“I guess I’m not good at this whole romantic nickname thing.” He released your jaw from his hold so his fingers could travel up and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, “What if I just told you how pretty you are instead?”

Usually you could fend off his flirty comments by retorting with a somewhat decent response, but you were entirely at a loss for what to say. It didn’t help that your body was working against you, fully responding to Josh’s advances in a distractingly enthusiastic way. It’s hard to figure out why he’s being so aggressive with his flirting when your heart is thundering in your ears.

You try to move back, only to be reminded of the shelves of storage keeping you in place, sandwiching you between them and Josh’s large frame. Since retreat wasn’t an option, you tried to diffuse the situation as best you could.

“Slow down there,” you said with a nervous laugh, “A girl could get the wrong idea.”

With your palm on his chest, you felt his heart begin to pound. Josh’s hands moved down to your waist, traveling more hesitantly than his brusque teasing suggested they would. You forced yourself to keep your expression unchanging when they rested on the curve of your torso, sending scattered bolts of electricity up your sides. There was anxious authenticity in his tone as Josh said, “Maybe I’ve been wanting you to get that idea for some time now.”

You weren’t sure what to think, was he trying to say he was into you? But, that couldn’t be it, he flirts with everyone, not just you. A conversation he had with Chris that was particularly homoerotic came to mind. It was clear you weren’t special. However, there have been multiple times his attention towards you felt heavy-handed, though you tried to not overthink it, not wanting to be wrong about his intentions. Regardless, as he spoke to you, there was an undeniable charge in the air, the anticipation of what his possible confession meant buzzing around the two of you. If he was saying what you thought he was, this could be your chance to tell him how you’ve felt all this time.

His eyes flicked over your face and just as you opened your mouth to respond, a loud noise made both of you jump.

It was a metallic, dull sound filling the basement with its unsettlingly rhythmic beat. Both of you turned your heads to one of the hallways in the basement where the sound was coming from.

“Uh, sorry to interrupt this, but, and I really don’t want to, I think we should check that out,” you told Josh.

He blinked, reorienting himself, and then said, “Yeah, uh…sure, let’s go.”

You both began to walk deeper into the basement, closing in on the origin of the unnatural noise. It bellowed through the basement’s cement walls, consuming the hallway with its ominous tone. You followed a few paces behind Josh, but as you got further down the hall, you brought your hand forward and wrapped your fingers around his forearm. Being able to feel him made you feel safer. He paused for a second, but didn’t say anything, so you kept your hand on him as you advanced.

You were about to turn the corner and follow the noise further down into the basement when a shadowy figure jumped out at you. Your heart stopped beating for a second, only resuming its rapid pounding after you had turned and begun to run from the intruder.

Sprinting down the hallway, you yelled for Josh to run, the next and only thought in your brain being the escape that was the basement door. The masked figure followed in hot pursuit, just a few strides behind you.

You jumped up the basement stairs three at a time until you reached and nearly collided with the door, needing to step back before trying to pull it open. You yanked and you pulled, but the door was unyielding. You were screaming nonsense at Josh, and he was responding to you as best he could, telling you that everything was going to be okay. His arm hovered around you protectively, separating you from the approaching intruder.

The masked figure reached the top of the stairs and Josh stepped toward him, taking on a defensive stance. Then, the man draped in black held his arms up above his head and let out a ghostly wail that sounded…stupid.

Your eyebrows pressed together, and you choked out a “Huh?”, looking over to Josh, who had cracked a smile.

Your eyes darted between the two men, trying to work out what was going on. The intruder pulled off his mask, revealing Chris underneath, cracking up at the ingenious of his own prank.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” you said, face burning up.

“Good one, Cochise,” Josh congratulated.

You punched Chris in the shoulder, huffing how his prank wasn’t as funny as he thought it was, which only made him laugh harder.

“Were you in on this?” You turned to Josh, trying to mask your feeling of betrayal.

“Nope,” Josh chuckled, patting Chris on the back, “But I wish I had been.”

“Whatever, you two,” you said, grabbing the basement’s key from Chris and storming out of there.

“Hey, wait up!” Josh called after you.

“Let her go, Josh,” Chris said, “C’mon, I finally found the Ouija board.”

“Yeah, I’ll be right there,” Josh responded, hurrying to follow you into the guest room hallway.

You had your hand on the doorknob of your room when you felt his fingers around your other wrist, tugging you back.

“Not in the mood, Josh,” you said, pulling your hand away. Though, you didn’t attempt to open the wooden door again, instead turning to face him.

“Hey, it was just a prank, right? You know Chris, he was just kidding around. No harm, no foul,” Josh said. If he were intending to make you feel better, it would be helpful if he said that like he fully believed it.

You sighed, exasperated. “Yeah, it’s not a big deal. I just-I probably looked so stupid.”

Josh stepped closer. “You were scared, I was too,” he said, his hand landing on the side of your arm, squeezing it, “No shame in that.” He let out a small chuckle, “I’m taking notes, Chris did a damn good job.”

“I guess,” you shrugged.

Josh stared back at you, puzzled, before breaking out into a small grin, “I know there was one part that I really liked.”

You looked away, appearing to find the sight of the doors lining the shadowy hall more interesting than him, but still took the bait, “And what part was that?”

Josh’s hand traveled down your arm, not once separating from it, to encircle your wrist. You shifted your gaze back to watch him place your hand on his forearm, the rolled-up sleeves of his flannel allowing direct contact with his warm skin. “I like that, when you’re scared, you hold onto me,” he confessed.

The air of indifference is hard to maintain now, but you still try. “I didn’t know you were so observant, Josh.”

He rested his hand on top of yours. “Just with you.”

You cursed yourself for how easy it was for him to win you over with a stupid, corny comment. Any embarrassment from the prank was superseded by the new tingly sensation in your stomach. Though, the adrenaline must have remained because you want to do something about the fact that, for all the time you’ve known Josh, you’ve never once tried flirting back.

Your fingers tightened around his forearm, noting the musculature present underneath his tan skin. You hadn’t realized how strong he had gotten. “Y’know, Josh,” you started.

“Yeah?” he breathed. He can feel your hand flex underneath his palm as you stroke your thumb along his arm with gentle swipes.

It was scary to even hint at how much you were feeling him right then, but you pushed through. “Maybe, I just like touching you,” you offered, “Scared or not.”

He exhaled unevenly, seemingly going to great lengths to keep himself still. It was new, to feel like your words had weight, for them to be the reason his gaze felt so heavy as he raked it over your body. The interaction felt dangerous but exciting; you didn’t want to shy away anymore.

“Josh!” Chris’ voice reverberated through the lodge.

“I really am gonna kill him,” you muttered. Josh let his arm drop back to its place by his side.

“Get in line,” he said, which earned a giggle from you.

Another call from Chris, “Where are you, bro? Ashley’s here. C’mon, it’s Ouija board time!”

Josh shook his head, “I…I should go, I can’t leave them hanging.”

“You sure you don't want to stay?” you asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes. It’s funny, how you were just running away from him and were now trying to keep him from leaving.

He stiffened, seemingly weighing his options in his mind. His hesitation made you smile, you liked having an influence over him.

But it was not enough, because he relaxed into his typical playful energy, saying, “Unfortunately, I’m already tied up. I’ve got big plans for those two tonight.”

You frown, “Yeah, I bet the Ouija board madness will be one for the books.”

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” he replied. Then he continued more earnestly, “But maybe we can hang out later? Finish our conversation?”

You pressed your lips together; you didn’t want to wait. However, it was probably for the better, if you were to have Josh, you would want it without interruptions.

“Okay, let’s talk later,” you agreed. He nodded, stepping back to go join Chris, but, before he could, you grabbed his shoulder and pushed yourself up on your toes, pressing a kiss to his cheek. It was quick and impulsive, but for some reason, you felt that if you hadn’t done it then, you wouldn’t get the chance in the future.

“Later, then,” he said, a soft smile spreading across his face. He turned and walked back to find Chris, leaving you standing all alone in the long hallway, longing for more.

So now you lie spread out on a quilt atop the guest room bed, head spinning as you relive your conversations with Josh. You should’ve invited him in; the want pulsing through the veins in your body wouldn’t be so hard to manage if you did. But to deal with Chris and the teasing that would have ensued from your ruthless friend group wouldn’t be much fun either.

Your arms wrap around your sides, hugging yourself as you think about being down in the basement with him, how his voice lowered when he spoke more seriously about his feelings, how you could feel the waves of heat radiating off his body despite the area’s chilled atmosphere. You’ve never had him that close to you before; the closest you’ve ever been was when he dared you to go on the Ferris wheel at a local fair with him, claiming you were too chicken to do it, and the small cart forced you to sit hip-to-hip as he laughed and you bit back your terror.

The memory makes you realize how long you’ve wanted this for. How long you’ve stifled your feelings, your attraction, your desire. Now that it’s happening, knowing that he feels the same way, it’s hard to hold back.

The cold winter storm outside does little to hinder the warmth dripping down your stomach like honey as, for the first time, you let yourself wonder what would have happened if it went further, wish it went further.

Your hands travel down to the waistband of your jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them. You’re aching right now; you just want to feel better.

Only, though you don’t know it, there’s a camera in your room. And through its lens, there’s someone who’s watching.

Josh removes his skull-like mask so he can get a better look at the footage in front of him. He had come down to his hide-out in the basement, intending to electronically lock the gates around the lodge so he can continue enacting his revenge, but something on one of the multiple television screens stacked atop his desk drew his attention.

Even if the recording is black and white and somewhat obscured by pixelation, there’s no doubt that it’s you, sprawled out over one of the guest beds, pulling off your pants and bringing your hands down between your thighs.

Josh looks behind him, feeling like he shouldn’t be seeing this, but returns his gaze to the screen anyway, eyes widening as you begin to touch yourself, running your fingertips atop the soaked gusset of your underwear. Your head falls back onto one of the pillows lined up along the bed’s wooden headboard, eyes shut in bliss at long-awaited contact.

Josh steps forward, locks whatever gate he no longer really cares for, and turns his full attention to the glowing screen. He had the strength to refuse you earlier, though not without difficulty, especially after you kissed him, but that resource has since been depleted as he’s unable tear himself away from the tv, completely entranced. He has other things he should be doing, things he’s been planning for a year now, but he just can’t.

Your eyebrows are pressed together and your mouth slightly ajar as you begin to enjoy the feeling of your fingers, falling into a sensual, pleasurable rhythm. A slight rush of air escapes Josh’s lips as his body heats up, reminiscent of when he was pushed up against you in the basement. He found it hard to focus on his words with the way your body felt so soft underneath his hands. He can only imagine what it would be like if he were with you now, feeling your hot skin against his. He wonders if you’re imagining the same, wonders if that’s what’s getting you off, the fantasy of it being his fingers stroking the wet fabric of your underwear, making you jolt and twitch under his touch.

Josh isn’t sure when he got hard, maybe he has been this whole time, but what he knows now is that his erection is starting to ache. His gaze doesn’t falter from your body and its movements as his gloved hand travels downwards so he can palm himself through his overalls, desperate to relieve even just a fraction of the desire thrumming through his body.

He groans when you tug off your underwear, exposing yourself fully. You bring your hands to your soaked folds, touch now unobstructed by cloth, and start to draw slow circles on your clit.

Oh, you really like that. Josh drinks in every detail, intent on knowing how you like to be touched so he can burn into his memory. It’s an intimate moment, that you and Josh are both pleasuring yourselves together, even if you don’t know you’re sharing it.

You twist and turn on the bed, your free hand gripping the sheets beneath you as your fingers pick up in speed, applying more pressure to your sensitive clit. Though, that hand only stays tangled in the sheets for a moment, finding a better use pressed against your open mouth in a half-hearted attempt to muffle your sweet pants and moans.

Josh wonders if you’re hoping he’ll hear you and come in to catch you in the act; the thought has his hips bucking into the surface of his gloved hand, finding just friction to be unsatisfactory.

Then you break him, because as you’re running your fingertips along your glistening folds, you mouth his name. Josh. It’s undeniable now, you’re touching yourself while thinking of him.

He should be focusing on the prank, his revenge, everything he’s worked so hard to do, but all he can feel is the urge to fuck his fist at the sight of you purring his name.

He peels off his overalls, letting them fall by his boots, and unzips his dark jeans so he can pull out his dick, wrapping his hand around it. It’s hot to the touch and leaking pre-cum, no doubt a product of the strenuous sexual tension underlying your conversations. He begins to run his hand along his length, the extent of his own arousal making him shudder from the movement.

His forearm is covered in veins that travel underneath his skin like lightning, and as he pumps his needy cock, they stretch and bulge with his movements. Not so long ago, your hand rested on the same forearm that flexes as Josh fucks himself. He can feel it now, phantom grazes of your delicate fingers tracing his veins as he drives his dick through the tight grasp of his hand. Oh, how he wants you to be there, for you to be the one touching him.

He crumples forward, a single arm pressed against the table’s edge as his only means of support. God, the desire is eating him alive.

He should have just taken you when you were down in the basement. Pulled you into him and pressed his lips to yours, creepy sound be damned.

You’d be flustered of course, and probably try to act like you didn’t know what happened, all despite the fact that he knows you’d kiss him back with equal passion. You try to act tough, but he can tell that his little comments get you hot. Josh knew you were going to crack at some point, and the way you’re writhing around on a bed in his lodge proves him right.

If only you weren’t so damn stubborn about hiding your feelings. It’s been so obvious that you’re into him, with your bashful smiles or secret glances you don’t think he catches, but, at every opportunity he’s tried to give you, you shy away.

He should teach you a lesson for your coy attitude, you need to learn that being direct with him is what’s best. He contemplates going to find you in the guest room and fucking your brains out, it would show you how much you’ve been missing by being shy.

Though, Josh likes the idea of punishing you more. He’d like to get his revenge on you for prolonging his frustrating and tortuous weeks of pining after you, trying to get it into your head how much he liked you.

If he were to have his way, he would edge you, get you so close that you’re whining his name, pleading for your release, and then watch your expression turn when he withholds it from you. Maybe he’d earn a cute pout, or even better, you’d beg for him to continue. Josh curls into himself, his movements faster and sloppier, desire running rampant through his body.

He watches you sink a finger into your soaked entrance, seeking to relieve the painful emptiness of your canal. Josh wonders if it’s enough. The desperate roll of your hips as you try to push your finger deeper tells him it’s not, that you need more—that you need him. He watches you pause for a second, a cute frown on your lips, as you come to the same realization he has: it’ll never be enough if it’s not him. Josh exhales sharply, exalted.

You still try your hardest, though you can’t be blamed for the fruitless effort with your head so dizzy from lust. You push your finger in and out of your wet vagina as your other hand stimulates your clit, though awkwardly. It would be so much easier—feel so much better—if he were with you.

Josh sees no need to punish you for the heartache you put him through anymore, you’re doing it yourself right now, working so hard despite the fact that you’re unable to get yourself over the edge. He likes that you’re probably longing for him right now, wishing he were there to make you feel good.

It might be his sadistic side, or the fact that he feels needed, that does it for him, but your struggle gets Josh to his limit, his hand gripping onto the side of the table as he bucks his hips into his dripping hand. With a sloppy pump, he comes, white ropes shooting out as he presses his eyes shut in utter bliss. He seriously considers that you could turn into an obsession of his, if you haven’t already.

Josh takes a deep breath, trying to calm his uneven breathing, and realizes you’ve given up on getting yourself off, redressing yourself while dissatisfaction mars your pretty face. He feels bad for a second, wanting to make you feel better, but his eyes flick to another screen to realize Chris is waking up from the sleeping gas, meaning Josh is short on time if he wants to fake his own death.

He cleans himself off, redresses, and after one last look at the screen, he leaves.

He’ll deal with you later.

#josh washington x you #josh washington smut #josh washington #josh washington x reader #josh until dawn #josh until dawn smut #until dawn josh #until dawn #until dawn smut #chris hartley

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boots-with-the-fur-club · 2 months

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Next part of the hand saga!

Prev, Next

@daboyau

@phoebepheebsphibs

@littlemissartemisia

@that0n3shr00mi3guy

“Answer our other questions first! I don’t trust you after everything you’ve done! After everything you’ve caused! You….you helped kill my brother!” Donnie screeches, hand on his tech bō shaking so badly out of anger he worries he might break it.

“I never meant for you to be harmed this way. You won’t believe me when I say it, but none of this was born from malice. I haven’t spoken until now because there was no need to. As for why I’ve been tormenting you….it’s for a reason you are not going to easily accept.”

“Just say it already!” Leon insists.

“I did it because I was asked to.”

Raph nearly hits the hand with his fist, just barely hitting the ground next to it.

“You think we asked for this!?”

“No. You didn’t. Someone else did.“

“Who!? Who would ask for this to happen to us!? To everyone else!?” Donnie asks.

“To put it simply, the people who made you.”

“W-We don’t even know our original parents….” Mikey comments.

“No, not just you. Your entire world. Everyone in this competition is formed from a collection of ideas from an author or authors. These authors gave you the titles you go by. They sent you here to compete. To meet other characters in their own stories. To promote their own stories. That’s how this started. No Fun in Fungus, they simply sent an “ask” of mushrooms, spores. Then your author wanted more, one for each of you.”

“What possible reason could there be for doing this to us!?” Donnie grits his teeth.

“To give more to your story. To bring you all closer together. I too was created in this way, for this purpose. I have merely been a tool to different beings. It may sound ridiculous, maybe even insensitive, tragic, but you should consider what you have gotten. What you’ve learned. When Karai was brought here, you were even told not to think too hard about such a concept.”

Each of the brothers want to make the argument that it’s crazy, but they do in fact remember what the competition mod said to them.

“Even Misa giving you those flowers was an ask sent by an author. These asks…..they were all in good fun. Hurting you was just to make comfort all the better. You were never supposed to die. You were never even supposed to be seriously injured. I just enjoyed seeing all the stories coming from the spores so much. It’s gone too far. It’s why I want to help now, before someone is killed in a way they can’t come back from. No Fun in Fungus was already over, they were supposed to rest. You all still have a lot of story left to tell, it’s not supposed to end here.”

The four of them take in this crazy amount of information they’ve just been told. Can they really trust the hand after all they’ve been through?

“What can you even do to help?” Leon questions angrily.

“The spores are not the only item I possess, as you know. I am intertwined into your and No Fun in Fungus’ storylines. For that reason, I am able to bring out what is called a plot device.” The hand moves to the side, revealing TNT charges connected to an empty base.

“There’s nothing in there.” Donnies says dryly.

“Sometimes plot devices are there to urge the story forward in different ways. In order for this to work, I need mystic energy from each of you. That may be difficult for Michelangelo in his current state, perhaps I could find another one-“

“Mikey, my brother I love so much, I did not bring you back from the dead for you to kill yourself again. Lay. Down.” Leon threatens.

Mikey lays back down.

“It does not have to be him. Because of your being separated at first, you haven’t had the chance to completely understand ninpo. It seems only Mikey truly has.” The hand explains.

“You mean the sacrificial martyrs? Why would we want to know about them? Mikey’s been doing that way too much already!” Leon complains.

“Hamato have sacrificed themselves numerous times, that is true. You’ve seen it be true. Ninpo isn’t inherently about dying for a cause. It’s just how it’s been used a lot, considered the only way. It also has been used to save. Out of love. You’ve seen that too. Ninpo is about the connection to your family. That’s why Donatello was able to use it. That’s why Mikey woke up and used it. When you’re about to lose who you hold dear, your connection strengthens more than ever.”

DvD glances at Mikey. They stare at each other for a second or two. It’s true that they’ve been through an experience nobody else could, or should, truly replicate.

Maybe DvD sort of understands why the NFIF group are the way they are. Obviously he knows how it feels to want to protect his brothers after almost losing them, but what he’s learning is why they’re so willing to throw away their lives even for people who just look vaguely like family.

It’s so much easier to experience pain than to experience someone you love going through pain.

It’s a sentiment he wouldn’t have even considered before everything they’ve been through. Something Draxum never would have let him ponder.

He loves his family.

It’s messed up, they lost years of being able to know each other, there was so much distrust, and things aren’t even close to perfect right now.

But this is his family.

Even April, who has zero blood relation to them but still went through all this just to help.

Misa, who’s yearned for family and takes the role of an elder sibling because she wants to take care of others despite her young age.

Karai, who is related to them but wasn’t originally even supposed to know them if her mission had succeeded.

Something he’d protect with his life.

The hand brings the container closer. DvD looks back at it and hesitantly puts his hand on it. A purple, glowy, shiny substance pours inside. He takes it back after a moment, feeling like he was drained a little bit, but otherwise fine.

Raph and Leo look down at it in surprise before the latter takes on more of a bitter expression.

“I’m the one who took care of Mikey. I protected him. I did my best every single day for years to feed him, clothe him, give him what he needs. I was there for him longer than any of you. Why don’t I have powers like him and Donnie? Are….are they closer….than we are?” Leon frowns deeply.

“No! Leo, I love you just as much! I promise! That’s not how it is-!” Mikey voice cracks from how raw his throat still is.

Raph gently rubs his shell.

“He’s right. Connection to family doesn’t mean how much you love them, but how you think about yourself in relation to them. Insecurity about your place in it.” The hand stares.

Leo feels all eyes on him and starts messing with the material on his pants to avoid addressing what was just said.

“Welp, no insecurity here. Must be something else.”

“The fate of the multiverse might be in danger at this point, you’re going to avoid talking about what we already practically know? Why you left Mikey before-“

“I don’t want to talk about it!” Leo yells, interrupting.

He holds onto Mikey tighter.

Mikey presses his cheek against Leo’s and nuzzles into it as much as possible.

“I….I haven’t….gotten over anything. When I got spored, it reminded me of everything I’m afraid of. I….I…..still can’t accept that any of you love me! I-It’s hard work to even like me, loving me? I-Impossible! Nobody actually does! I-I made Mikey feel like he has to be loyal to me because I took him in. I forced him to never leave me and then I left him! And then he forgave me because he’s so nice and lovable! He’s a pretty painted picture but I’m just a bunch of shredded pieces that I can’t tape back together! Why can’t someone just finally sweep it all up into the trash!?” Leo sobs.

Raph, Donnie and Mikey’s jaws all drop. They’ve been aware of just how hard it’s been for Leo to understand that he’s wanted, a real, true part of the family. What they didn’t know is just how lowly he really thinks of himself.

Leo sniffles.

“I’m cursed. I always have been. Even if I am a part of this family, I shouldn’t be. Look what happened! To Mikey! To gram-gram! To all of you! Not just now, but before too! And you saw what happened to the NFIF guys! Leo helped feed me and Mikey and then he went missing and I just know whatever is happening in that room to him is awful! NFIF Raph held me and tried to protect me and he’s still back there too! You’re all going to get hurt or die or worse with me around! I-I should be alone, I should at least be punished for everything I’ve-!”

DvD, surprisingly, is the one who pulls Leo into as tight of a hug as he can manage without hurting him.

“Shut up.”

“Wh-What? Is….is this supposed to make me feel better or are you angry?”

“Both! The only person who thinks you’re not worth anything is you! How dare you say that I don’t care about you!? I do! You should care about you too! You want to stop being a burden!? Then don’t make us live without you! If you weren’t here, Mikey would be dead right now. If he hadn’t wanted to be with you and didn’t leave those families, we wouldn’t have this family. We wouldn’t have found each other. Give yourself more credit.”

Leo goes back to hiccuping sobs as he buries his face in DvD’s shoulder.

Mikey starts crying as well, despite how much he’s already been doing.

“I-I’ll rip up my picture a-and we can make one up ourselves! I-I can give you tape! J-Just please, d-don’t go again! I-I love you so much!”

Leo pulls him more into the hug, they wet each other’s faces with their tears.

Raph wraps around them all.

“You told that other me before about how you know he’s not a bad guy. How we’ve all made mistakes. You should give yourself the same benefit of the doubt. You aren’t cursed, bad things……just happen. A lot. What was going to happen to the NFIF guys would have without meeting you. But now because they met us, we can help them. There’s not a day that goes by where I’m not glad you’re in the family, Leo. I love that I know you. I love you.” He rest his chin on top of Leo’s head.

Leo and Mikey keep crying until they’ve finally calmed down.

The hand once again offers the container towards Leo.

“How….do I do it?”

“Think of your family as a something within you, and release it. Raphael, you as well.” The hand urges.

“What? Me? But didn’t have any breakthrough or anything…..”

“Right now is the moment you feel closest to your family. It may also help to remember who is not here, and wanting to get her back.”

Leo and Raph nod, both placing their hands on the container. Red and blue pours in before the hand takes it away.

“Where…..are you going to find a replacement for me?” Mikey brings up.

April suddenly bursts inside the room.

“You guys! He took Misa!”

April had kept walking until they could no long hear Mikey scream. It took everything she had to not go back to help. Misa wanted to go back too, but as grown up as she thinks she is, nobody should be seeing that.

Nobody should be experiencing that.

It’s not like the turtles were adults either. They shouldn’t have to listen to their brother scream and beg for the nightmare to end. It’s something they have to do though because the only good adult they have around has been taken.

It’s painful to not be able to do anything else, but this is incredibly important. Misa needs her right now.

“Is….little big brother….going to be okay?” Misa asks, looking up at her with wide eyes.

“He’s got everyone else with him, they’re going to do whatever he needs them to.” April assures.

Misa looks down.

“I want to help Raphie too.”

April bites them inside of her cheek. Guilt for leaving him is gnawing at her as well. Wasn’t there anything else she could have done? All that guy has being doing this whole competition is trying to protect everyone from the spores.

Who protects him?

“We’re going to, when we have a plan.”

“But….but it’s going to be too late!” Misa whines.

“Hey, we don’t know that. Maybe….maybe the void guys helped out and he’s coming back to us now!” April suggests, vaguely aware it’s probably a huge lie.

Misa pouts until footsteps draw her and April’s attention.

“Raphie!!” Misa shouts excitedly shouts, wriggling out of April’s arms.

“Misa! Wait!” April reaches out too late.

The young girl runs up to NFIF Raph who picks her up. They smile at each other.

“Hey, kid. Glad I found ya. I have something real important I need you to do.”

“How can Misa help?”

“I need to borrow your portal sword.”

Misa gladly hands it to him.

April sees a glowing, blue tear roll down his cheek.

“Misa! Get away from him!”

Misa looks at her in confusion before seeing Raph’s eyes fill with blue. She begins grabbing at her sword but he keeps it out of her reach. He then holds her tight, close to his plastron and tucked under his arm.

Raph’s smile falls. The glowing tears fall freely down his cheeks with no signs of stopping. He looks over at April with a sorrowful expression.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t keep my promise. I really tried. I just….there’s no reason for me to fight anymore. My family is all back there. Even if I did fight, everything I do fails.”

“Raph! That’s not true! Fight it, we can save your brothers together! You don’t have to do this!”

“No, doing this is the only way he won’t hurt Misa. It had to be me. All we need is the sword and to use her as bait. She’ll be okay. I’d promise, but….my promises don’t mean much…..” He opens a portal.

“No! Raph! Misa!” April poofs to get close, but ends up falling on top of nothing after the portal disappears.

“Where did he take her!? Back to that room!? Are they sporing her again!? She can’t survive that! Mikey didn’t!” DvD panics.

“Hold on, what do you mean he didn’t-WHY IS THE HAND HERE!? IS THAT TNT!?” April points.

“Be not afraid-“

“IT TALKS!?”

UIFY Raph explains what happened. April feels like her feet are stuck to the floor. It’s only been 15 minutes and things somehow turned even more disastrous.

“H-How are we going get more ninpo!? That could kill Mikey again!”

“It can come from you-“ The hand starts.

April slams her hand onto the container.

“I want to save them! Please work! Do your magic thingy!”

Shockingly, it does work. Green pours into the container and the colors all being swirling with each other. They glow even brighter.

“This should be enough. I can set up the charge behind the wall that houses the main mushroom.”

“Wait, won’t that hurt the other me?” Leo brings up.

“He’s survived worse.”

“That’s not a good reason!”

“He’ll be alive and the spores will be gone. Is that not what you want?”

“It is, but-!”

The lights suddenly shut off.

DvD quickly turns on the light from his phone.

“Oh what now!?”

“Hello everyone in the competition! It’s your new overlord, Audrey III!” Donnie’s voice calls from a speaker in the room.

Oh no.

DvD quickly searches the room for some medical masks which he puts on and passes out to his brothers and April once they’re found. If he thinks what’s about to happen is really happening, they need protection.

Leo careful puts Mikey’s on for him and then carries him on his back as they all leave the room.

There’s panic and chaos everywhere from the sudden darkness. People are bumping into things and shouting.

The nearby vents start releasing the familiar, sickening spores.

“Don’t resist. Or do, your fear is tastier that way.”

#tw death mention #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #no fun in fungus #rottmnt until i found you #until i found you au #tw selfhate #2018 tmnt #rise of the tmnt

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eatmangoesnekkid · 4 months

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Anointed

Life tends to come easier to you than most people because you are here to serve the evolution of the collective in moving forward. Various types of people tend to be attracted to you but it is the anointed energy that they are really attracted to in different ways. When you are anointed, it doesn’t mean you won’t have difficult times or hard decisions to make that can disappoint other people, or that you are perfect, but it does mean that you will have a kind of magical, mystical life living in ongoing flow states. When there is an anointing placed on your life, it is a sacred divine calling that can feel terrifying to say “yes” to, to permit all the way inside, but you have to. You must. Resistance will show up, at times, in very trickster ways. Sometimes you will be required to leave behind your neighborhood, family, job, church, eating habits, relationship, comforts, etc. Because no one can do what you can in the unique frequency that you can, and that is why you are anointed and must answer the call. I’m thinking of people like Zora Neale Hurston, Tina Turner, and even Katt Williams. -India Ame’ye, Author

Scheduled post from hubspot.com

….but even if you don’t feel anointed, begin to sense yourself as so. Everywhere you go, you are loved. Feel it. Opportunities are always comes your way. The way of love and path of beauty is your life. Inhale that!

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starastrologyy · 2 years

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Astrology Observations 🪶

Hi everyone, this is another compilation of random Astro observations!

I will be closing my chart readings at the end of August for a few weeks, as I do have a full-time job on top of doing Readings but for now they are still open 🤍 The link to my website is in my bio if you are interested in purchasing a reading.

Please do not repost any of my work on other social media platforms🤍

Having a Sagittarius Rising in a composite chart can suggest that the two people met abroad! Alternatively, there could be significant cultural or religious differences between the two. Sometimes it could just mean that these two enjoy traveling together, and other people see them as a very open-minded and free-spirited couple.

People who have Lilith (black moon) In the 3rd house often fear that people are talking about them, or creating false narratives about them.

People who have Uranus Retrograde in their charts might often feel like the “odd one out”. They may struggle to find their community, or place in the world. Alternatively, they may feel as if they don’t have control over the area of life in which their Uranus is situated in. For example, someone with Uranus Retrograde placed in their 10th house, may feel as if they cannot control their reputation, or they experience frequent/uncontrollable changes in their careers or career path. Their relationships with the Authority figures in their lives (bosses, fathers, mentors) are also very unpredictable and constantly changing. Remember that retrogrades in our charts, show us the area of life where we will constantly need to go back and revise/make the necessary changes in order for us to move forward.

TW:Mental Illness:

To be very honest I try shy away from associating astrological placements/aspects with certain illnesses or conditions. For two reasons, one, it can be harmful to people who have that placement, and two, its a very controversial topic in the astrological community, as some people believe that astrology cannot show any kind of illness (I am not one of those people). However, I will say I have seen two aspects in peoples charts that frequently have manifested as certain mental difficulties. A close conjunction between the Moon and Saturn can cause someone to feel melancholic, as it often manifests as Depression . Whereas, Mercury square Neptune is very common in the charts of people who have been diagnosed with BPD (an orb of 2 degrees or less). Please don’t make this apply to you if it doesn’t, and my intention isn’t to offend or upset anybody, I just thought it would be interesting to share this observation.

People who have their Saturn placed in the 5th house often struggle when it comes to “letting loose” and having fun. These people often need to work on healing their inner child, as they fear being judged and ridiculed by others. In some cases, they may have experienced rejection or harsh criticism from others at an early age. There’s also insecurities related to their ability to attract romantic partners with this placement.

Water mercuries often communicate from a place of emotion, and they often take criticism from others very personally. Not EVERY water mercury is going to be sensitive, but they tend to favor emotion/intuition over rationality and logic most of the time.

In synastry, having 2nd, 7th, 8th, or 11th house overlays with someone can be very beneficial to you financially. The 7th house more in a business sense, as you have the potential to enter into a business partnership with this person.

It’s not uncommon to adopt an entirely new aesthetic/make drastic changes to your personality during a 1st house profection year.

I’ve mentioned this in one of my very first posts but, Transit Pluto or Saturn squaring your Sun or Moon is one of the most difficult transits that you will face. I don’t think astrology should be used to fearmonger, but these transits are really difficult (especially if they are occurring simultaneously) . However, once it’s passed you will become an incredibly strong person, and you will find that you more equipped to deal with life’s challenges moving forward.

Major Jupiter transits occurring alongside positive Venus transits are likely to be a very good time in your life. For example, let’s say you have transit Jupiter making a conjunction to your Natal Moon, and it is making a trine to your natal Venus. This is likely to be a very positive time in your life, and you are inclined to be in good spirits. If transit Venus is also making positive aspects to your luminaries or other personal planets the affects of the positive Jupiter transits are likely to be magnified.

Saturn transiting your 1st house is often associated with weight loss, and I can confirm that weight-loss is very likely during this transit. But I will say, that it’s not always the result of a great exercise and diet regimen, some people feel very stressed or isolated during this transit and thus they may lose weight as a result.

In synastry, I’ve noticed that couples who have Hard aspects (squares, oppositions, conjunctions) to each other’s Venus and Mars, often have very steamy/active sex lives. This is especially true with Mars opposite Mars, Venus square Mars, and Mars square Mars.

Sagittarius Venus & Mars individuals are very experimental when it comes to sex. These people are quite open-minded and they bore very easily in relationships. So, they tend to gravitate towards friends with benefits or relationships with people who are also open-minded. This doesn’t mean they can’t be monogamous, because most of them are, contrary to popular belief. They just need adventure and fun in their relationships.

Couples who have significant 3H synastry are usually vocal with each other about sex. They often discuss what they like or don’t like ahead of time. Alternatively, this can also show a couple who enjoy talking DURING sex!

#astrology #astrology tumblr #astrology observations #astro posts #astrology blog #synastry #astro thoughts #astrologyposts #astro tips #astro notes #astrology tips #spirituality #astrologyreadings #astrology content #astrology community #astro blog

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wishing-stones · 6 months

Note

How do your takes on the boys set them apart from others do you think?

I'll be refering to them with their call names in this one

Targe(Killer) is a little difficult to say this for, because I think he's pretty standard. I'll say maybe that it's his loyalty to Nightmare that makes him unique. I haven't seen a lot of people explore that close friendship they have going on, the unwavering loyalty that doesn't often get explained. Killer owes Nightmare his life for rescuing him from his AU. Also, Targe is really, really competent. Scary smart, thinks quickly on his feet, and doesn't let his authority go questioned. He's a fantastic leader, not just a chaos gremlin.

Mote(Dust) is also hard to answer this for since I don't have a ton of other Dust interpretations to go off of. I'd say he's maybe a little more down-to-earth and... present? Than other takes I've seen on him. That he's not so lost in his delusions constantly. They're there, they're integral to his character, but he's also clever and resourceful. He's quiet, but he pays attention. I think I've said before that his character is the one closest still to his canon counterpart-- he's really just Sans who had an infinite run of Really Bad Days.

Haft(Axe) is a lot more chill than other Horrors I've seen. He doesn't regret what he's done at all-- he did what he had to in order to survive, and he's settled whatever guilt he might have had over that fact. He's also still blisteringly smart, and I have seen Horror played to be a little... dim sometimes, which does him an incredible disservice IMO. His 'canon' self (in the HT comic) is still smart, just a really jaded and kind of twisted survivalist. Haft has gone past that and into resolved survivalist. Suvival by whatever means necessary-- he had to defend himself and his brother more times than he cares to admit. Still... he's a big softy under it. He's a kind person at heart, he's just not gonna agonize over doing whatever needs doing. Haft also has a better relationship with food than I've seen portrayed. He's had time to work on it in his service to Nightmare.

Saltire(Cross) gets along with the guys a lot better than other instances of Cross I've seen with the BSG. He's also not as guilt-ridden, as his situation is fairly permanent. He's safe and secure in Nightmare's Hold, he does what he must in order to get by, and all things considered... it's not so bad. He has good food and drink, a nice room, gets to stretch his legs a bit with multiversal jaunts, a dedicated place to train, and a leader who respects and appreciates his capabilities. He's free here. Still, he's pretty withdrawn and takes a long time to trust, especially if someone (Killer) has stung him in the past. Sal... wants to move forward, even though his past weighs him down heavily. He reminds me of a big standoffish white wolf.

Sorpor(Baggs) doesn't have a whole lot different than his source material. I try to write him as close to canon as I can. The most he has that's different is that he's a little taller and knows about the multiverse. The latter can and probably will cause some interesting divergence from his canon timeline, considering he's aware of resets and how they can go (read: really badly). He has perephreral knowledge about some other things that can happen to the underground as well (Flowey, namely-- he wasn't present for the Photoshop Flowey fight, but he heard about it in therapy sessions). I'd say over time he's also gotten a little bit more direct because trying to manipulate the guys into what you want them to do is harder when they'll dance around with you. Straight and to the point gets more results with them, so he becomes a little more forceful. He also sleeps on a fairly regular basis, which makes him much more pleasant to be around constantly.

Umbrose(Nightmare) is fairly standard of the "classy" Nightmare variety. He enjoys his finer luxuries and arts, speaks largely without contractions, and uses big words. He likes to exude elegance and charisma, because while fierce can achieve results, it takes much less energy to simply... coax others into doing what you want. He's had years to chill out from utter violence, so he elects to do things in a fashion that doesn't tire him out consistently. He's also a fantastic leader. He treats all his underlings fairly and sees to it that they want for nothing. Ensuring their loyalty is important to him-- otherwise they could turn on him, and that would be bad. (I have some issues with the more abusive dynamics you see around with the BSG and him. You can only tettorize and threaten your minions into submission for so long before they plan mutiny). He's pretty chill, but no less intense in pursuing what he wants-- he's just smarter about it.

Aubade(Dream) is way more mature than a lot of takes on Dream I've seen around. He is tired. He wants to stop fighting with his brother. He doesn't understand where things went wrong and it eats him. At his core, he is existentially exhausted, but continues to do what he does out of duty. Certainly, he loves his friends and they do make him genuinely happy... but he's so tired, and if you look deeper into his actions, it shows. He also swears. He's not the perfect angel that can do no wrong, and he knows it. There are necessary evils that even the guardian of positivity must do. He's also aware that positivity does not equal goodness, and negativity does not equal badness. He's a little jaded, but understands that balance is a requirement in the multiverse, and so he has to keep doing his job. He's not afraid to take a life or beat someone to a pulp, though he'll issue warnings before he does.

Haboku(Ink) is a little more stable by proxy of being around his friends so much. Dream helps to remind him to take his paints regularly, and Blue will bully him into it if he has to. He's clever, too clever by half. He'll play to someones ignorant perception of him and has no issue letting them continue to think that he's an idiot with the memory of a goldfish and the attention span of a squirrel. He also enjoys stirring shit. He'll cause trouble just to cause it sometimes, but usually is good about not doing anything that will hurt he or his friends. He's fairly dutiful as well, and will protect the multiverse by any means necessary. Any. means. He is otherwise a pretty happy goofball who likes to make sure everyone around him is doing okay. He's honestly a sweet person if you're in good with him. He doesn't like to see unnecessary suffering.

Zaffre(Blue) has a knowledge of the multiverse and has been travelling it for a while. He's of the 'Jaded Blue' variety who tends to help Dream be Ink's leash. Still, he's a very happy guy who loves adventure and loves his friends. He's very passionate. He's no-nonsense. If you mess with what he cares about, gods grant you mercy because he won't. He hasn't killed, but he's certainly beaten a few people within an inch of their life in self defense or in defense of others. He's scary competent, and has a sense of duty to the multiverse much like Dream does. He is, at his core, still a Sans, though, so he is also incredibly intelligent and observant. He also still likes puns and practical jokes, which is not a trait I see applied to Blue very often! He does the whoopee cushion in the hand trick.

#k answers #k headcanons #feat. r&r crew #feat. star sanses #interestingly enough I don't have call names for error or xchara #wall of text and character meta ahead

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ms0milk · 2 years

Text

falling asleep with a claustrophobic s/o

| ft. tengen, rengoku, sanemi, and giyuu

a/n: i'm SUPER cleithrophobic (which is like clastrophobia but more a fear of being trapped and unable to get out, rather than being afraid of small spaces in general) and cuddling is really hard for me. sometimes i, me, the author has to indulge in some VERY specific comfort hcs 🙈

tengen

bedtime got you down?

cuddling feel like being buried alive?

well you’re in luck!

b/c your husband is as broad as a california king

‘but i’m big big :(‘ you protest

to which i say

sorry

he’s even bigger

he will always be bigger than you and he will always want your weight sprawled on top of him

tengen thuds onto his back in a sea of satin sheets

“come”

he pats his chest invitingly and peers over his big old bust at you

“ten, i’m not sleeping on top of you.”

he pouts and drums his chest some more

“you don’t love me anymore”

“your boobs are too big!”

pouty lips curling at the corners, he sits up a bit to reach for your hand

you always fight him when you think you’re being a burden

you don’t wanna fall asleep tangled in his arms?

nonissue

he would sleep on hot coals if it made you more comfortable

smile on his face

“you love these double Ds”

“they’ll give me a crick so bad i die”

you’re not fighting him anymore though, as he takes your hand and pulls you forward

“dying in my arms y/n, very romantic”

it only takes one tug to pull you off balance and your head lands squarely above his heart

you can hear it beating clearly here

and if anything, a little too fast

“you got a crush or ‘sum?” you murmur into his collarbone with one defeated, and cozily squished cheek

it’s perfect like this

you wiggle all your limbs and bask in the freedom

he tosses a blanket over your little dogpile

and rests a hand on the back of your head to keep you from slipping

“y/n, a crush?” he grumbles into your hair, “when we first met, i once– from the thought of you alone– without touching myself– achiev–”

“goodnight tengen”

rengoku

kyojuro is ridiculous i swear

who thought ‘yes i’ll simply write the perfect man and then let him be perfect in front of a yearning audience’??

a sweaty heat between you

legs over hips

your waist in his arms

a thumb swiping at your cheekbone rhythmically

it’s too hot

–can’t bend your arms, can’t free your hips, it's too–

“it’s–it’s too much”

you roll a few times out of his arms to the safety of your empty futon beside his

“i’m sorry kyo”

he’s warm and wide and heavy and so fucking cuddly

“my love, are you alright?”

when you peek at him behind you, in his own bedding, his golden eyes look so concerned it kills you

he’s propped himself up on an elbow

ready to jump into action

has he offended you?

are you unwell?

do you need a doctor?

“i’m sorry” you murmur and turn away from him “i’m tired, i don’t want to touch tonight”

“oh love, i’m sorry, i wasn’t trying to–”

“no, no” you roll back over in a hurry to correct him, “i just have to be over here right now”

he doesn’t understand

“are…um, have i, maybe..”

how could you possibly tell the man who hung the stars for you that holding him at night makes it difficult to breathe?

“my chest,” you pull one of his hands out of his blanket and press it against your heart, across the divide of your futons laid side by side, “it feels tight when i’m in closed spaces”

he melts in your touch and lowers himself back into bed to listen

“i don’t...like feeling like i can’t move”

it takes him all of eight seconds to cure your anxiety

“i hold you at night to make you feel safe. It has not been. My darling, what can i do to comfort you?”

i life without this man is no life at all

you fall asleep easily on his outstretched arm that night, his other hand rubbing patterns down your back

“you should always tell me these things y/n, i will help you.”

from then on, on days where his arms are too heavy for you, or his bedding is too hot, kyojuro tucks you in and then falls asleep facing your futon so that the first and last thing he sees everyday is you at peace

sanemi

“what do you mean you don’t want me to hold you? are you fucking defective?”

ah yes

doesn’t he just make your knees weak

“real panty soaker you are nems”

sanemi is behind you and seconds away from reaching an arm across your waist, having finally gathered enough courage to spoon you

this is what people want right?!

to be the little spoon??

he would want that if he were you

you roll away from him two times to make sure you’re facing him and far enough away to see his face clearly

it’s whole fucking ordeal

“i don’t like getting spooned”

“huh?” he grimaces

and makes a dramatic show of stretching his arms out wide in exasperation

“it’s just too restrictive! i don’t like it”

“you don’t seem to care about restriction when i’m fucking folding you in–”

“do not finish that sentence”

“–half!”

first night together going just swimmingly 🤟🏽

sanemi finally has a chance to be gentle with you and you don’t even want it

“how do you normally sleep?” your airy voice snaps him momentarily out of a rage

“however i fucking want”

“then get comfortable”

“what?”

what are you talking about?

“go on then” you repeat, holding back giggles from the other side of the mattress “get comfortable, I have an idea”

he looks to you and then back up at the ceiling and huffs

“c’mon nems jus–”

his arms suddenly shoot straight out next to him and he kicks up his knees under the blanket

⭐️

he’s still staring at the ceiling but now his face is bright red

“o-oh,” you bite back laughter, “is this..is this how you do it normally?”

“shut up”

he’s not embarrassed for long though, as you snake your way beside him

“let me know if you don’t like it”

he’s not sure what he’s expecting– anything? everything?– and he’s really not sure how to breathe when you lay a careful head on his shoulder

you press your chests together and tuck one of your thighs between his legs

adjust your cheek into the hollow of his collarbone

“is this okay sanemi? you lay on your back, i lay on my stomach”

is this okay sanemi

he might love you

“you sleep like a starfish so i’ll just latch on where i can”

“whatever”

he’s thankful you can’t see him fighting to not bury his face in your sweet hair

“oh i get it” your voice and chest rumble with laughter against his body “you just want me to spoon you”

and for the first time all night he’s too distracted to be a bloodthirsty bastard

“you can do that?”

“roll over”

giyuu

three demon hordes, two sleepless nights, and one lost finger

and this is going to be what kills you?

giyuu gulps

you don’t even make a sound

you’re both hovering at the foot of a single futon in the center of the inn room

“i asked for two”

is the only thing he can muster

you shake yourself out of your daze and rest a hand on your sword hilt

“we can do this”

giyuu nods vaguely but doesn’t look at you

you’ve been together for weeks

a hundred years longer than the hashira thought anyone could stand him

but haven’t needed to fall asleep together yet

‘burn that bridge when we cross it,’ you always thought

besides, you and giyuu have never needed a bed

giyuu is the first to lay down after bathing

he stands up politely when you enter the room from your own bath but you can tell he’s exhausted

he’s back down even faster than he stood and visibly fighting the urge to sleep for forty days and nights

you sink to your knees beside the bed

“may i?”

and before you even get the last word out, he’s tossing the blanket back for you

dark eyes

parted lips

hair covering his face in long tumbles

“please”

gods you have such a big crush on this little awkward man

okay

alright

your first full night together might not be so scary after all

he looks like he’ll fall asleep immediately

you might not even have to tell him–

“y/n,” he tugs on you before pulling the blanket up so far it floats down over your heads,

“closer.”

he hates this

he can’t feel your warmth

“tomioka wait– i–”

he moves closer before you can finish your thought

and cups your hands in his

it’s difficult to make out his expression in the dim candlelight filtering through your comforter

but you wish you could have seen exactly how he looked before he brought both of your hands to his lips for a gentle kiss

in one hand he laces your fingers together and with the other he pulls the bedding back down to a reasonable shoulder-level

“don’t worry y/n, i know you don’t like tight spaces”

you’re laying on your sides facing each other, fingers tangled together

“is it okay if i hold you.. like this?”

you nod, blissfully

sleepily

you really didn’t have to tell him

“i’m sorry about your finger”

…

“what?”

“your finger”

he murmurs into your knuckles still held against his face

eyes closed so gently they flutter

“the one a demon bit off”

right

you exhale softly in laughter, the air blowing over his cheek

“don’t worry, it was my least favorite”

“mine too”

op-

there he is

#i love getting to write snarky tengen #did giyuu ask for one futon on purpose?#nemi my gremlin husbad #husBAD #and kyo the object of my every affection #sfw #kny hcs #kny fluff #tengen x reader #rengoku x reader #sanemi x reader #giyuu x reader

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tuttle-4077 · 17 days

Note

Greetings! So....the PBAs seemed a little off this year. I find it strange how Abracadabra managed to pull in TEN of them while several other authors whom entered multiple pieces won nothing whatsoever. I find that rather odd, especially when half of the awards were gold. Never seen that before in my many years in this fandom. A few of my friends (all of whom won multiple awards) agree with me that the contest seemed a bit...shall we say, rigged....in her favor. I have nothing against her personally, of course. This isn't an attack. And I don't write or draw, myself, so I have no skin in this game. And I have nothing against her personally either. Yet I thought it would be best to bring this matter to the comittee's attention, in the hopes that the contest remain fair for everyone.

Hi. Thanks for reaching out with your concerns.

First, let me explain a little about how the PBAs work in general, and then I'll address your more specific concerns about Abracadebra's wins.

Over the years, several committees have hosted the PBAs. I have been on the committee since 2018 (with a break in 2019 because I just had a baby!) . The rules for the Awards have evolved over the years for many reasons: the number and types of stories written, the voice of the people (ie, slash being included in the main story categories), ideas brought forward by new members of the committee, etc. And changes have come simply as a result of the committee learning how to run such a big project. (The PBAs aren't necessarily difficult to host, but it is a big undertaking!) Categories have also been added or dropped based on the number of stories that were eligible, as well as the amount of work a particular committee wanted to put it (I, personally, hated gathering and tallying all the quotes and asked to end the category.)

One of the rules that was implemented several years ago was that a story had to receive at least two nominations in order to move forward to the voting round. The reason for that was to whittle down the amount of stories a voter had to read. This rule is especially important for years when there is a big crop of stories. A lot of people skip the nomination round simply because there are so many stories and it's daunting! Usually 70-90% (sometimes even 100%) of stories receive at least 1 nomination. When there are 200 stories in a year that's still 140-180 stories in the voting round. With the 2+ nomination rule, the percentage of stories that make it through to the voting round is between 50-60% (although in some categories, it can be higher). This makes it a lot easier on the voters to read the stories and cast their ballots.

Another rule (which I believe has held for many, many years) is that, in order to nominate a story for THE BEST STORY OF THE YEAR, it also had to appear elsewhere in the story category nominations. The reasoning behind this is that, if it truly is the best story, then it should, logically, at least appear in one other category. The rule also applies to the voting round. I've voice my opinion on the subject here (tl;dr I like the rule for nomination round, but not particularly the voting round.)

One other thing we changed (although it is not necessarily a rule), is that we no longer automatically include stories from AO3. That platform is not as straightforward with when a story is complete, or whether it's complete at all! It was too much work for the committee to comb through the whole site, trying to pick out completed stories for the year and determine whether they were crossovers, slash, responses to challenges, etc. So, this year (and I believe last) we asked that AO3 writers submit their own stories for consideration in the PBAs.

Now, as to your specific concern about Abracadebra's wins.

First, consider the nomination round. The nomination round determines which stories make it through to the voting round. We advertise the nomination round on FFN, tumblr, and AO3, but the majority of the nominators are from FFN (remember, the PBAs were FFN specific until a few years ago, so our stalwart participants are there). Why would this affect who gets nominated? A couple of reasons:

A lot of folks on FFN are pretty loyal to the platform, particularly in the HH fandom. AO3 is a little more wild. And even though the stories on AO3 are posted as competitors, we cannot provide convenient links on the FFN forums. It's one thing to post one link on the FFN forums, with the weird spacing and parenthesis, like we do in order to direct people to the PBA website (where all the stories are linked), it's another to do it for each participating AO3 story (it's frustrating to the person posting it, and the person who has to copy it). So, a lot of people just don't visit those stories. Is that fair? Maybe not, but it's just the way it is. So why does this matter? Well, FFNers reluctance to venture to AO3 mean that a lot of the stories on that platform don't receive even 1 nomination, let alone the 2 needed to advance to the voting round.

FFNers tend to have their favourite authors and will read pretty much anything that author puts out the moment it's put out. So, if a nominator is short on time, they may just refer back to a story they've previously read when it first came out, rather than scramble to read everything that is eligible.

So that's why an author from FFN in general may receive more nominations, as opposed to an author from AO3. As to Abracadebra specifically, well,

Abracadebra is very active on the forums. She posts general items, but she also hosts Reviewathons and other events for the fandom to participate in.

Abracadebra is an avid reviewer. The kind of reviewer who is encouraging, but also honest.

Abracadebra is a beta reader for many new HH authors as well as the seasoned ones.

Why does that matter? Well, fair or not, sometimes the PBAs boil down to a popularity contest. All elections do. If you have a connection with someone, or have developed a friendship or warm feelings towards someone, you're more likely to view their work favourably. If you have two equally good works and you can only choose one, how are you going to decide which one to choose? For me, personally, I tend to go with the work created by a person I am more familiar with. Again, is that fair? Maybe not, but, again, that's just human nature. We're not objective creatures.

But, there are reasons why someone (even not an FFN denizen) may nominate (and vote for) one of Abracadebra's works.

Abracadebra is just a good writer. She is, after all, a journalist in real life. A seasoned journalist. You don't last long in that game if you can't write.

Abracadebra's stories tend to focus on the more popular characters. Let's face it, Newkirk is, by far, the most popular character for a lot of people. Some readers just aren't interested in reading a story that doesn't feature Newkirk. Or, again, if they're in a time crunch, they'll focus their reading energies on a Newkirk story, rather than a story that focuses on someone else.

So, there are some reasons why Abracadebra's works moved on to the nomination round and perhaps why some other works didn't.

The same reasonings above apply to the voting round, but to be more specific on that round,

This year, 60 stories made it through to the voting round. 5 were Abracadebra's (8.33% of the total stories in the voting round.) That doesn't seem like a big percentage, but it is more than any other author had in the voting round, so automatically that increases her chances of winning.

Two of her stories were nominated as THE BEST STORY OF 2023. If someone wanted to vote for her story as THE BEST OF, they also had to vote for it elsewhere on their ballot. This isn't usually a problem- most people just do that automatically because, again, if a story is good enough to be on THE BEST OF list, it's probably good enough to earn their vote in another category even without the rule. I think only two people had to correct their ballot because they voted for a BEST OF story that didn't appear elsewhere. One favoured Abracadebra's story, and the other dropped her story from their THE BEST OF vote entirely because they didn't want to change their other votes. (Again, I have my own thoughts on this rule for the voting round, but it is what it is).

As to the high number of gold wins, remember, three of those five wins were ties. And, the other gold wins (where there were no ties) were won by a tiny sliver. It was a tight race, but the chips fall where they fall.

Now, you said you had never seen one person win so many gold awards before. Well, because I am a crazy person who likes data and numbers, I went through all the PBA gold winners for all the years the PBAs have been running. First I tallied how many gold awards each person won. Then I counted how many theoretical golds there were supposed to be (basically assumed that each category would have 1 gold award) and then I counted how many actual gold awards there were (considering ties within categories). Here is what I found:

In 2003 EJ McFall won 30% of the 'theoretical' gold awards, and 18.5% of the actual gold awards

In 2004 Patti and Marg won 33% of the gold awards (there were no ties)

In 2004 EM Siefert also won 33% of the gold awards

In 2005 Patti and Marg won 36% of the theoretical and 31% of the actual gold awards

In 2006 Jeff Evans won 33% of the gold awards

In 2007 Jeff Evans won 41% of the theoretical and 29 of the actual gold awards

In 2008 Tuttle4077 (yours truly) won 54% of the theoretical and 50% of the actual gold awards (note, this was my first year in the fandom and I didn't even nominate or vote in the PBAs, never mind being on the committee!)

In 2009 Jennaya won 28% of the theoretical and 26% of the actual gold awards

In 2010 snooky won 33% of the theoretical and 31% of the actual gold awards

In 2011 dust on the wind won 30% of the theoretical and 26% of the actual gold awards

In 2012 Sgt. Moffit won 30% of the theoretical and 28% of the actual gold awards

In 2013 Sgt. Moffit won 38% of the theoretical and 32% of the actual gold awards

In 2019 Abracadebra won 38% of the theoretical and 33% of the actual gold awards

In 2020 Abracadebra won 32% of the theoretical and 24% of the actual gold awards

In 2021 Abracadebra won 36% of the theoretical and 25% of the actual awards

And in 2024 (the year you have misgivings over) Abracadebra won 35% of the theoretical and 28% of the actual awards

(Omitted years didn't have great disparities between gold winners)

Note, I don't think Abracadebra was on the committee the first year she won an award and that was her highest win percentage.

So, what do all these numbers tell me? Well, it tells me that it's not unusual for a gold winner to receive ~30% of the the gold awards, like Abracadebra did this year. When a story is popular, it's popular. When an author is popular, they're popular.

I want to add that Abracadebra is an amazing person to have in our fandom. She never votes for her own works. She always tries to encourage new writers and is amazing at leaving reviews. People like her. People like her stories. And, all added up, it doesn't strike me as odd that she wins plenty of Papa Bear Awards, gold or otherwise.

I hope all this has helped clear up your concerns and misgivings. As long as I have been on the PBA committee, I have observed a stellar effort to be impartial and objective. We often bend over backwards to make things as fair (but also as manageable for the committee and the voters) as possible. It feels great to win an award, but I have never seen anyone on the committee try to rig things in their favour. We rejoice over any and all of the winners, whether we personally voted for their stories or not. We love that our fandom is robust and diverse. The PBAs is a great fandom tradition and I, personally, would never do anything to jeopardize it; so if I saw something sketchy, I would say something. I think you only have to look towards the efforts that Abracadebra and I have put towards the fandom in general to know that's true.

One more thing to wrap this up:

The committee is open to everyone. We extend invitations to everyone to get involved. However, it usually falls on The Same 'Ten' People to keep it going. If someone were to pop up and say "hey, I want to run the PBAs this year!" before PBA season started, any of the current committee members would say "Great! We'll stay on board if you'd like, but if you want to be the lead, go for it and we're happy to just offer advice and guidance!" But that never happens. When the year is fast approaching its close, no one new takes up the baton. Perhaps one day the STP may decide they don't want to go through the effort and the PBAs will fade away.

If my explanations here have done nothing to quell your suspicions, perhaps you, Anonymous, would like to join the committee next year. Post on the FFN forum (FFN still being the home of the PBAs) that you would like to join/lead the charge. We'd love to have you.

Cheers to you, Anonymous. And if anyone else has any questions, comments, or concerns, feel free to ask. I'll try to address them the best I can.

#hogan's heroes #papa bear awards #ask away #The PBA committee is open to everyone. Join us!#Or you can always create your own awards if you're unhappy with the PBAs and don't want to join #I hear there is another competition called the Bronx Cheers Awards but it is by invitation only #And I haven't found any proof it actually exists

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literaticat · 6 months

Note

To your knowledge, what is the furthest a schmagent has gotten? Shopping a book to editors? Getting editors to pitch a book at a meeting? Selling a book? Thanks Jenn!

There are different levels of "schmagent" -- some are literal con-artists. They aren't TRYING to "shop a book to editors" -- they are scamming authors out of money. (Saying the book needs "editorial services" and you can go to so-and-so -- who happens to be their wife! -- who isn't actually an editor but costs a lot! -- getting the book "published" by some vanity press run by that same person for which you have to pay, etc). So there might technically be a book of some kind at the end of the process, if you get that far, but the goal is getting you to give money to them.

Then there are the ones who mean well -- they aren't trying to be con artists! -- they just don't know what they are doing and have no mentorship. They "love books!" and so they set up their own agency. They are technically real agencies, in the sense that they CAN sell books to publishers, and sometimes they do. But they are likely to be selling mainly to sorta 'dubious' publishers and disadvantageous deals (small, maybe e-only or print-on-demand, you don't really need an agent for them, low or no advance, etc.) -- I'm sure some of those schmagents have some "regular" book sales as well, if they are lucky.

The problem here is, well, several problems: 1) As nice as they might be, you don't want to be the guinea pig while they spend years trying to figure out how to do this job properly because they weren't trained and don't have mentorship -- 2) Meanwhile you are not moving forward, or are getting disadvantageous deals / trapped in bad contracts that can really effect your career -- 3) It's extraordinarily difficult to make a good living as a brand new agent under the BEST of circumstances -- since these schmagents aren't really earning money, that means that eventually they will either quit trying altogether OR figure out a new way to make money.... (see paragraph one).

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shmothman · 2 years

Text

Judgement | Forgiveness

Chapter Twenty Two

Previous Chapters

AO3 Link

Tags: @veethewriter

Author’s Note: I’m sorry it’s been a couple months, y’all! I hope this penultimate chapter (and the epilogue next) make up for the wait! Thank you all so much for reading!

All twelve of your combined pokemon are laden with packs: food, supplies for the journey, supplies to start building a home when you arrive. You have tents and bedrolls, bags full of tools and blankets, and everything else from Volo’s hut that you could fit in a pack or strap to your Wyrdeer’s saddle.

The journey will be long, even with the occasional help of the Nobles: you’ll have to scale cliffs together, cross mountains, ford rivers. Not that it’s anything the two of you can’t handle… especially together.

With one last, lingering gaze at the snow-covered hut that Volo called home for the previous months—and a squeeze of his hand in yours—the two of you set off.

Bright, late-winter sunlight glints off the ice of the Bonechill Wastes as you near the chasm that separates the Alabaster Icelands from the well-traveled path to the Coronet Highlands; and then you fumble with torches as your fire-type pokemon light the way through the caves of Mt. Coronet.

You pass somewhere below the Temple of Sinnoh, and although Volo’s countenance grows cloudy with guilt, a kiss to the back of his gloved hand draws him out of it, and a soft, grateful smile finds his lips. He’s changed, since the last time the two of you were here.

You’ve both changed.

Brisk mountain air meets your faces as you once more step into the sun, emerging from the depths hand-in-hand. The rocky ground is rough and uneven, and the going is slow, even as Sneasler helps you and all your pokemon down cliff after cliff: you spend many nights here, keeping warm by the fire in more ways than one. There is so much to look forward to, now: more than either of you ever thought possible.

Beneath the stars, the two of you dream; dream of a future where your hopes come true, dream of a life together, dream of all the unsolved mysteries of the world unraveling beneath your fingers. He holds you close, these cold nights, and you know he still feels as if you might slip through his fingers if he doesn’t hold tight.

You reassure him that you won’t.

Slowly, you make your way past the Celestica Ruins—it’s hard to drag Volo away from the architectural wonders of his ancestors, but you promise to come back soon. He’ll be able to chase his passions, now. You both will.

The Clamberclaw Cliffs are the most difficult terrain you’ve faced yet, and after the ordeal, you take several days of rest at the Lonely Spring to recover. It isn’t warm enough for you to go for a swim, but both of your pokemon enjoy the rest and relaxation until you’re ready to move on.

Down the Sonorous Path and through the Ancient Quarry you travel, each of you thinking of the last time you traversed these highlands by foot: Volo, on his way to the Icelands; you, on your way to the Temple of Sinnoh. And it surprises you, how easy it is to talk about these things with him, now. The past was once such a fraught topic—it still isn’t completely comfortable, not with the guilt Volo feels, the way your heart still sometimes hurts when you remember his betrayal… but it is easier every day. Time and love soothe all wounds.

The ruins at the Heavenward Lookout pique Volo’s interest too much for him to simply pass by, and you watch with a smile as he talks excitedly to himself, examining all that he can and taking copious notes before you move on.

And as you finally pass over the seldom-trodden paths that separate the highlands from the fieldlands, the first spring flowers come to bloom at your feet: great swaths of daffodils blanket the foothills of Mt. Coronet, lining your path forward, your path toward home.

Giddy at the appearance of green, of bright yellow and the purple of crocuses, your spirits are buoyed, your journey drawing closer to its end—you have to stop to run through the flowers, your pokemon just as excited as the two of you. Laughing with uncontainable joy, you embrace, rolling among the flowers, and Volo tearfully confesses that a part of him feared he’d never see these sights again.

But he’s here, now. You both are. And you’re nearly home.

You hike through the Grueling Grove, the Horseshoe Plains, Aspiration Hill—and then further, past the Floaro Gardens and over the uncharted hills north of Lake Verity.

This is where you’ve staked your claim. North of the lake, west of the village, there is land near the beach. There is room to grow crops, to build a house, to build a life. This is where you lead Volo. This is where your journey finally ends.

Although—can the journey really be ending, if the work is just about to begin?

The two of you—and your loyal, beloved pokemon—take up tools and supplies, and together, you begin to build. You’ve been given blueprints and instructions by your friends in the Construction Corps, and, although you did not ask, a couple of your friends from the village come to help. Volo is anxious around them, it’s easy to tell; and several of them don’t seem too keen on him, either—but they all seem to be of the conviction that this is the right thing to do, and you couldn’t be more grateful. Besides, when Laventon shows up, his lighthearted chatting dissolves any tension that was lingering, and by the end of the week, several of the townspeople are even talking to Volo—a development that even you are surprised by. Still, you couldn’t be happier—or prouder—when a villager’s joke makes Volo laugh, and the man claps him on the back hard enough to make him wheeze.

Some of these villagers arrived after the rifts—the boats keep coming, bringing new people, new perspectives, to Hisui—and thus, the danger that Volo posed to this region is lost on them. They’ve heard the stories, stories of both of you, now, and they’re excited to meet you both; the hero of legend, the adversary turned something more.

And one day soon, you stand back, and you grin wider than you’ve grinned in a long, long time. Your home is built. Your garden is dug. Your friends disperse.

And, once again, it is just you and Volo.

“Well?” You ask, smiling wide. “What do you think?”

And Volo smiles, too: no longer something small and bitter, no longer something fake. His smile lights up his face, lights up your heart, and there’s no place you’d rather be; no person you’d rather be with.

“It’s perfect,” Volo says, and you agree.

It is perfect.

#judgement | forgiveness #volo x reader #volo #pokemon #pla #sef writes

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cassicaendra · 7 months

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💫 FROM NARUTO TO BORUTO FANFICTION💫 #5

Official name: Unexpected

Only here on En here. From author personally.

P.s. sometimes dumb! Oops. (Daichi/dai/day - one person)

- Haha, he's like that because he likes me. But do not think that his feelings were accepted. Mikoto-san.. I was going to leave the Anbu.

Mikoto herself was staring at him. As if she was saying, "Believe..believe..believe.."

- Could you at least roughly describe it externally?

- Of course, she looks like her mother too..She probably dyed her hair, so you can't find it by the red hair from Uzumaki. Knowing her, I think black.

Sasuke looked at him with complete disbelief. The situation began to heat up from the cold..

Daichi didn't like it.

- So, we are honest with you. Otherwise, Menma and I would have stayed at home, because...

- I was also asked to tell about my brother.

And so, the doorbell rings, obliging Day to end the conversation anyway.

- Sakura-chan! Unfortunately, we have already started, but I think Menma can repeat it for you. Come on in, can I pour some tea?

- Yes, it would be nice..

Apparently, Sakura was embarrassed enough by how much attention was paid to her person.

But the young man, on the contrary, finally felt at home.. Not for long, but it was worth it.

- In short, let's talk about my brother first, I'll repeat it later. Besides my sister, I have a brother, but I think he won't resist. Anyway, the guy is friendly, I think if we meet, he will want to get to know you all. But don't forget that he is a Jonin, and his specialty is everything related to fire. Effectively by the way, half of the participants in the exam dropped out.

Orochimaru chuckled contentedly. Indeed, what to expect from such participants.

- And the possession of my techniques?

- I don't think so. Both of them.. Pretty principled and own mostly clan techniques. But.. Hmm, if necessary for sure. And.. I don't know, honestly, that's it.. But we have a lot of friends. I think we would be happy to tell you about them too!

- Does that make sense?..

Sasuke's eyebrows moved to the bridge of his nose again, showing obvious displeasure.

- There is.

- Great! In short, do they still remember the Ootsutsuki clan? Hinata is really married to Toneri. What an irony, a wonderful couple, I would like to see my parents one day.. And their son became a ninja too! For some reason, he decided to stay on earth..

- One such person would not hurt us.. Can you tell me anything about the seals yourself? Or maybe he saw something useful? Maybe a sister, a brother?

-No! - Menma snapped, heading towards the children. - I have a great offer for you - who can beat me one-on-one, I give you tickets to the computer club! A couple of pieces, of course.. Let's go to the backyard!

The children looked at their parents searchingly..

- Go, it's time to practice. Don't break your arms and legs! Daichi said. - "He's already tired, and the topic.. I don't think it's easy for him.."

- Does it mean I can break heads?

- Menma, no!

Day looked at him as if he took it absolutely seriously.

- Menma yes! Calm down already, nanny. They will return healthy. I can't guarantee the rest.

Sasuke swore at that moment that he had let the child go to the battlefield in vain, but Mikoto stopped him.

- I don't think you were raised at all. - Uchiha said, to which Boruto mentally agreed..

- Judging by your tactlessness, too. To some extent, yes, the locals called him a savage. Well, who's to blame that we were all raised by former soldiers. Ah well, who are the first?

- Your idea - so go ahead! Uzumaki plucked up the courage to come forward.

- Oh, well, if you're not afraid, usaratonkachi.. Let's go!

Before anyone could object to him, Menma had already dragged Boruto along with him, smiling broadly.

"Sarada knows the Uchiha techniques, Uzumaki techniques will not be difficult to copy.. And this will be more interesting. He wouldn't mind winning and purely on principle.."

They have already stood opposite each other.

"If I put this arrogant one down, it will be less to show my nose. Only to call names and can.."

The son of Hokage was also ready to tear and throw.

- ..In general, this is what Menma gave us. Maybe about something separately? In my line, datteban'o. Of course, I don't think that my life is somehow remarkable.

- You should tell about those whom you met in battle. I think this will somehow bring us closer to where and how to look for the seal in addition to forests, Day. - We really agreed with Sakura.

Haruno (now already Uchiha) it was pleasing.

But the young man's face on the contrary breathed sadness from the fact that there was nothing left to change.

- It was mostly peacetime, Datteban'ya. However.. At first, they did not pay attention, there were minor thefts.. And then there was Incense. He gathered all the discontented around him, his father thought of a conspiracy, but he could not catch it. Everyone perfectly understood that there was a monastery in the same forest, where all the offended and offended could come.

- Has the civil war started? - Sasuke was the first to realize.

- Yes. I was among the volunteers..

- So they just let you go to war?! What did they want with that, you're not even twenty! Sakura jumped up excitedly. They immediately tried to pull her back, but Daichi wouldn't let her.

- I think you slightly do not understand all the circumstances.. I am twenty-one, I am the only son of the great Naruto Uzumaki and the excellent kunoichi-healer Sakura Haruno.. And he was no different from anything else until then.

The girl sat down.

Yes, he understands.

Understands what the pressure is when you need to earn your name.

- Who knew that it was the military leader Ootsutsuki.. We started not just a civil war, but the Fifth Shinobi World War. I'm sorry... Daichi clenched his fist, turning away. - I can't discuss it. Just be aware that the Uchiha-Uzumaki were there too. I think we were transported here in the same way as they were then. And I have one terrible assumption..

- Spit it out. We should know any for completeness. - Orochimaru nodded at this. The others echoed him..

- That according to Mikoto, they, as elders, also caught this war. But it's useless to ask, I really think the war is the last seal. I don't know how true the assumption is, along with the forest.. I'm sorry, perhaps that's all, datteban'o.

Daichi shook his head, as if trying to banish unnecessary memories. Habitually looked in the direction of the children ..

..At the same time in the backyard.

"Snake"-"sheep"-"monkey"-"pig"-"horse"-"tiger"

Fireball technique.

It is good, however, that they live near the forest. The makeshift playground was already quite battered..

It seemed that Uchiha-Uzumaki attacked by pushing off from the wall of the house with a direct blow, which seemed very much in his style.

A light whistle, a kunai in a couple of millimeters of distance flies right over Menma's head..

- Rassengan!

Menma wins by attacking Boruto's own technique with his shadow clone.

And climbs down from the tree with a satisfied face.

- You should be more careful. Well, of course, you won't get tickets, apparently today is my day, usaratonkachi!

- Do not fall from the joy of victory, topic. - Boruto snorts in the abrasions. His face hurts terribly.. But, of course, he is not going to talk about it.

And Menma fell face first from the tree.

#naruto fanfiction #naruto #boruto fanfiction #saske uchiha #sarada #sasunaru #sasusaku #sakura #team 7 naruto #narusasu #yaoi fanfiction #yaoi

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anne-bsd-bibliophile · 1 year

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Hii, i’m a follower of your twitter account and i just saw u moved here, so hello!! I wanted to ask if you have any tips for slow readers. I really enjoy reading but sometimes i’m not in the mood / my concentration doesn’t help or i simply read very slow, and i have a bunch of books on my tbr lists :( any advice? 🤍

Welcome! Thank you for following me on Tumblr as well!

I actually read slowly myself. If I read fast I don't transfer much to long term memory, so if I want to remember what I read after I've finished the book I have to take my time. Reading fast does not mean that you are a good reader, so don't worry if you don't read quickly.

My advice would be don't force yourself to read. If you're not in the mood then that's okay. And it is okay to take a break from a book if you are in the mood to read something else. Sometimes I stop reading a book and never get back to it. It is okay to lose interest or just not be into a book enough to finish it.

There are a few ways you can try to help keep your focus on what you are reading. You can visualize what is happening in your book. Making a movie in your head of what is going on or painting a picture of what the book is describing can make it easier to focus. I also will pause periodically in my reading and have a conversation with myself about my book. What stick out to me? Do I agree with what the characters or author are saying/doing? If I'm feeling any particular emotions I consider why I'm feeling that way or what it is that I've related to in my book. You can also try to set a small reading goal if that works for you. Don't make your goal anything difficult or stressful. Sometimes my goal is just to read a few pages before bed, or to bring my book with me to read during a short break at work. Usually if I enjoy a book it just takes me planning out a time to start reading it and before I know it I'm making time to finish the book because I'm hooked.

And this tip is more technical, but because I teach elementary school and teaching reading is a big part of that I want to add it here at the end. If you are not reading words accurately and quickly enough to be able to pull meaning from your book then you will always feel like reading is a chore. If you struggle to automatically recognize most of the words in the book you are reading then it will take some work. You will have to slow down, sound out the words that are not familiar, look up the meanings of the words, and only after you have really become familiar with how it is spelled and really know what it means will you be able to remember and recognize that word. Basically, your brain takes the word and files it away and you have to create as many pathways in your brain as you can to pull out that word quickly. If you know how to spell the word forwards and backwards, know the meaning of the word, and can use it in multiple contexts then your brain will be able to retrieve it from long term memory easier and you will recognize it automatically the next time you read it. The more words you recognize the easier reading is. This might seem like something you do in elementary school, but really it is a process that never stops for any of us. I've noticed that I follow this process every time I read a new book (I learned the word schadenfreude just last week).

I hope something in all of this is helpful to you. Everyone thinks differently, so everyone reads differently. What works for me might not work for you. Good luck! And thank you again for following me here on Tumblr.

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lone-rhapsodist · 1 year

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On going slow

This is the first of a series of longish posts which will like become more usual from me going forward. It's about the importance of going slow, how I've been trying to work on this for the past few weeks, how I've been benefitting from it, and hopefully, how it can benefit you too! This is all about working on the 'self', which goes hand in hand with a healthy approach to life and, by extension, to writing. I hope you will find it interesting and valuable. Thank you!

Lately, I have been trying to do things slow, not just with my writing, but in my life as well. This is something I picked up from positive psychology, in particular Martin Seligman. I have read a lot around positive psychology, and I am not the biggest fan of it, but I appreciate its aims and its value, and this is definitely something which I have found to be helpful for me. It probably works slightly differently in positive psychology, and it definitely does in mindfulness too -- another thing I am not the biggest fan of, but whose worth I can appreciate. Still, this is my take on it, how it works for me, and if it can work for you too, in your own particular way, then that will be good.

I have been dealing with a lot of anger lately, and going slower has helped a lot with that. Anger is a very difficult thing for me. Like, it's important to be able to blow off steam and let it all out when you're angry, but you have to be careful about how and when you do so, or it can cause harm. If my computer is not working, I will 100% shout at it, and even curse, and that is fine. But if I do that to someone, that will be a problem, and unfortunately it has happened sometimes, and that's bad.

Anger is something that lies deep within me, because it was everywhere around me growing up, and although I've got better over the years, it's still there, right beneath the surface, and it's tough. It is such a big part of me that, for a while, I thought it was tied to my very self. I thought that the only solution to prevent this anger from spilling out would be to completely shut myself off, because to deny my anger would be to deny myself, and to deny myself, I would need to sever any bond I had with others and live like a loner.

Thankfully, I soon realised that this made no sense. That anger, though strong, was just an emotion -- not a part of my 'self', but a way for me to express it, and merely one of many. So, I started thinking about a better way to go on about this problem, and that's when I remembered the whole 'living slow' thing from Seligman. If you live slow -- if you look at life as if it were passing in front of you in slow motion -- you can see things more clearly, read situations better, and make better decisions too.

I would like to clarify that for 'better' and 'clarity' here I am not talking about some objective standard of what is good according some self-appointed authority, like a therapist or a psychologist. I am talking about things being clearer to you, better for you -- from your perspective, that is. You want to go slower because it enables you to get a clearer, better perspective on things, so that you can make better decisions accordingly -- decisions that make sense to you, because you have had the chance to look at things more closely and take more time to think about them.

Mind you, there is still no guarantee that the perspective you will gain from doing this will be the full truth. In conversations with others where I have tried to go slower, I've still ended up making wrong assumptions and misunderstanding some of the things others were saying. However, because I was going so much slower, I was able to see my mistakes, apologise, and find a way to move on. It does take a lot of time to do so. Sometimes, you will have to just sit in silence and ponder things slowly within yourself before you are able to formulate a response that will move things forward. But I swear, it's worth the effort.

In a way, when I apply this to anger, it reminds me a little bit of Stoicism -- another thing I am not a big fan of but can appreciate. I am talking about the fact that you, as a Stoic person, can have control of your own emotions by simply (sort of) separating the thing which is happening to you from your own reaction to it. For example, if someone stomps your foot, yes, it hurts, but if you focus, you can separate the pain you are feeling from your reaction to it; you can feel the pain in your body but decide to react differently in your mind; in short, you will feel the pain, but you will not let it show, because you can control your emotional reaction to the pain if you really try.

Mind you, there are still instances in which even the most steadfast Stoic will yield to a knee-jerk reaction, like if a tiger appeared in front of them in the middle of the road. Surely, you would forgive the Stoic for being suddenly overcome by fear, because there was no way they could expect this, and for this reason, they will give in to it. Yet the Stoics would argue that a great Stoic, even if caught off guard, would be so only momentarily, and that thanks to their rigorous training in controlling their emotions, they should be able to immediately regain their composure, and be able to face the tiger (sort of) without fear. I imagine that, freed from fear, they will still make the very wise decision to run! But they'll be able to make that decision precisely because they did not let themselves just freeze in fear. In short, they feel the fear, realise it's an emotional reaction, dismiss it as unhelpful, and turn to a more useful, logical response. Easier said than done, I know. But that's Stoics for you.

Now, imagine doing this for anger. Especially in difficult conversations you might have with others. What would be the best way to go on about it? I've been trying to deal with this lately by going slower with anger -- not suppressing it, but letting it out slowly, in a careful, thoughtful, constructive way. I did not want to completely stop myself from feeling angry. Rather, I wanted to take a breath, hold it there, and take time to explore it.

It requires you being silent, but it's not complete silence. I'd call it a vow of 'semi-silence': you must speak, but only as much as needed, and you will do so calmly (as much as possible), clearly, and again, slowly. It's a bit like pouring hot tea from a teapot into someone's mug: you must do it slowly and smoothly, with just the right pour, or their mug will overflow, and hot tea will spill on them, and it will burn, and that's not good.

So yeah. You won't stay silent. You will say what you have to say. But you will choose your words carefully, to ensure that you're as clear as possible, so that the other person understands. You should not say everything you think, as in everything that's going through your mind, as not all of that is helpful, nor true, and likely not what you really think. But you must say what you need to say, as in what is necessary, what is absolutely vital, and you must go through all of it, slowly but surely, to achieve clarity.

I appreciate that, to some, this might sound a bit artificial, like you're not letting you be your 'true self' or something. But again, I insist, that is just not correct: you are not your anger -- it's just an emotion, not a part of your 'self'. Of course, it is important that you let yourself feel emotions, as they are an important way for you to express yourself and feel alive. However, you are not your emotions. You are not your anger. You are not your fear. You are you. Just because you have been angry for a long time, it doesn't mean anger is now a part of you, forever. This is something that has been done to you, and you must do your best to undo it. I am trying very hard to get better, to move forward, to feel more like my true self, every day. It's not easy -- I know that for sure! But it's worth it, and so I'll keep trying.

By going slower, by not letting your anger get the better of you -- by sitting down with it, listening to it, without giving in, you are not denying your true self. You are not dissimulating, you are not pretending, you are not hiding a part of yourself from others. Rather, you are acknowledging that this is something you are experiencing, but that's not you. You're just going through it, taking it in -- trying to appreciate it, to understand it -- then moving past it. It's a bit like looking at a work of art. As your eyes peer all over it, you will feel all kinds of emotions -- you'll feel anger, you'll feel sorrow, you'll feel despair. But then, you can't stop there: you must learn from it, you must take from it what it has to tell you, and then, move forward.

So, as you are sitting there, with your anger wrapped tightly around your self, you must remember that your anger is not your self, but even so, it has value. You must listen to your anger, to its story, and take in everything you can. But then, once you're done, you must let go of it and move on. You must seek peace with yourself, with those around you, with the world. You must go forth, and live slow, but live, and feel more like your true self, every day, little by little.

I don't think I have it all figured out. We'll see whether going this slow will be sustainable in the long run, and whether I'll be able to keep it up. I'm currently home for Christmas with my very shouty family, so I think that will be interesting -- like a test of my strength, of my progress, of whether I can actually keep this going and be happy. It's been okay for now, but it's early days, so we'll see. Still, I thought my journey so far was worth sharing, and I hope you will find it helpful too.

I don't know if this will work for you, but I know there must be a way it can. Most things don't work for me at first, but then I think about how I could make them work for me, and then little by little, I figure it out. So, if this doesn't work for you at first, think about how you could make this work for you, keep at it, and slowly but surely, you'll figure it out. And if you need any ideas, feel free to get in touch! I'm always happy to help if I can. Otherwise, thank you so much for taking the time to read through this! Take care, and take it slow!

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wandering-soul-1993 · 2 years

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I lost a follower today… …not that I had that many to begin with

Greetings! Welcome to another episode of “Random Thoughts from the Author’s Brain.”

Once again, I appreciate those of you who take the time to read my post; thank you for your time. As always, I hope I can help at least one person feel not so alone. This post is NOT and NEVER WILL BE a jab at the Vampire Chronicles fandom, my mutuals, or anyone else who stumbles across my blog. The VC fandom is one of the most welcoming and fun groups of people I’ve ever been a part of (trolls excluded). Everything discussed below is all internal.

TL/DR: You are perfect just the way you are and your worth is not based on the number of followers/likes/comments/reblogs/shares you have on social media. Stay your perfectly imperfect self!

The reason I started this post the way I did is that noticing I was down a follower brought back a whirlwind of negative emotions ranging from inadequacy to incompetence; feelings I’ve been dealing with since I was in middle school. It wasn’t even someone in the Vampire Chronicles fandom who quit following me! I’ve been on Tumblr for a grand total of three months and I’ve already received an achievement for liking 1500 posts. I don’t know if that’s an accomplishment or a cry for help. What ends up happening is I compare myself to everyone else and start to feel like I’m not contributing enough to belong to the fandom. Crazy, right? Welcome to the world of General Anxiety Disorder. Social media isn’t the only aspect of my life that is affected by GAD. In a nutshell, I try so hard to be someone I’m not that it ends up backfiring. I stop being my genuine self and people can tell, IRL and on the internet. Here’s an example: I don’t read the VC books—or any book for that matter—for analytical purposes; I read them as an escape from reality, so I don’t have a lot of meta to share at this point simply because that’s not the mindset I have while reading. Instead of enjoying the meta that other creators have shared and sharing my headcanons and other thoughts as they pop up, my anxiety ladened brain tells me that I’m not a true fandom member because I don’t do something like someone else. Believe me, some days it can be overwhelming and sometimes crippling. It completely takes all the fun out of fandoms, books, the very few public events I attend, and my friends can pick up on it as well. (Sidenote: learning to cope with GAD is a lifelong adventure with good days and bad days. A bad day does not equal a bad life. If you find it difficult to move forward, at the very least, please don’t go backward.)

In real life, I am as introverted as they come. When I was in college, my psych professor did an introvert/extrovert test and told us that statistically there would be one person on either end of the spectrum. Guess who was the introverted outlier. The point I’m trying to make is that my real social circle is a small group of close-knit friends and family, so why do I get myself worked up when my internet life is different? Part of it goes back to those feelings of inadequacy I mentioned earlier. I’m not saying my generation started the fanfiction craze, but I personally have been writing cringeworthy stories and unholy ships since the sixth grade waaaay back in 2005-ish. (fun fact: Pirates of the Caribbean was my very first fandom). My writing, thankfully, has improved greatly since then and I hope to one day become a published author; in the meantime, every time I post something on Tumblr or the two stories I have now on AO3, my stomach churns. What if people don’t like it? What if they think it’s stupid? What if I’m laughed out of the fandom or off the internet? None of that ever happens. I am humbly and graciously thankful for the positive reception and feedback my writing has received.

The lesson here is a simple one: it’s okay. It’s going to be okay. You can’t please everyone; some people won’t like you or what you create. That does not make you worthless or a failure. The number of followers does not equal your worth; neither do the number of likes, shares, or reblogs you get. Don’t let anxiety steal your joy.

This is a lot, I know. It’s hard for me to come on here and spill my guts, but the thing is, I wish I had someone to tell me this when I was a teenager and in my early twenties. I wish had someone who reminded me that I was good enough, more than good enough, regardless of my social media presence. I’m lucky to have a fairly supportive family now (they haven’t always been). Don’t get me wrong, I butt heads with my parents often; they don’t understand why I have tattoos and like all things dark and spooky, but now that they realized this isn’t a phase, they didn’t try to change me anymore or force me to be someone I’m not. Not everyone is so fortunate.

So please, let me be the person who tells you that you are perfect as you are. Whatever it is that you like, whatever your niche is, own it. Don’t let anyone try to change you. If you have those people around you, friend, life is too short for that negativity. Having anxiety, depression or other mental health problems does not make you less than. You are not alone if you’re struggling with it. If anyone ever needs a place to talk or just vent about living with anxiety or depression, my inbox is always open. You are worth more than those numbers. I promise you that the world is better with you in it.

#random thoughts #vc #my thoughts #anxiety #depression #general anxiety disorder #you are not alone #love yourself #you matter

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