#it's made from tea leaves and lavender it's safe

[fakescenariosbeforesleepblog]

He's not unlovable.

König x Reader.

König is not in his best moment, you never expected to hear about his past, now that you know a little, you understand why he feels in the way he feels.

Remember every ♥️ is important, thanks for your support.

Warning: I think there's not a big warning, lol, but If you're not In a good moment maybe it's not a good idea to read it rn, I'm sure I wrote it for a neutral reader but I warn you perhaps I wrote or made allusion to a fem and I didn't notice it, if I did I apologize, spelling and grammar errors.

König doesn't have an easy life, you know that, he reminds you that you can leave whenever you want, not because he wants you to leave, he says it because he feels like he's not enough for you, the kind of relationship, the kind of life you share, he simply thinks you will leave one day, and he's fine with it «i prefer to see you fly away from here than keep you in a cage mein kleiner Vogel (my little bird)» «I don't have much to offer, but all I am and all my life belongs to you, Schatz», that's what he always says.

You feel a hole in your chest every time he says that, because you don't want to leave, he has been the best boyfriend you ever had, he's kind, he loves to give you little details, he's gentle with you, he sometimes acts like a little kid, and you love all those things about him, you're there when his anxiety is at the maximum level, you constantly remind him how handsome, special, smart, funny and charming he is.

You never question him about his job, you don't need to, you know the man under that mask is different to the man you have at home and still, you are sure you would love that version of him too.

You don't know much about his past, «I don't look at my past Meine Liebe, I only look at my present, my present is you and that's all I need» but lately the past has been calling to König, you know something is not okay, he has been stressed and anxious, you don't want to ask but you know he's having a hard time.

You walked to his little office at home and you could hear him on the phone, you waited outside to not interrupt him.

«I understand, but it's impossible for me to go right now (...) Ja! I know I have to make at least 2 visits per year but I can't (...) Because I can't be in the same room with her!» «Scheisse (shit)»

You knocked at the door softly and opened.

- König?

- Ja?

He was with his hands covering his face, sitting on his chair, you walked to him but without invading his personal space.

- I just... I just came to tell you that dinner is ready, do you want to eat right now or... Maybe Later?

You're trying to be gentle, he doesn't respond, he just only extended his arm, asking you to get close to him, you give him your hand, you can feel his hand sweating, once you're close enough he hugs you, his face is on your abdomen and his arms are around your waist, you Caresse his hair with your hands, you don't want to ask, you really don't want to but it seems like you need to, so in the most calmed and softest voice you try to ask him.

- What's wrong Kö? You can talk with me baby.

He sobs and you can feel hot tears on your shirt, you kneel down in front of him and hug him, his head now rests on your shoulder.

- König, my love, you're worrying me... Shhh, it's okay baby, I'm here, it's all alright, you're safe here.

Both stay like that for a moment, you let him cry, you hate to see him suffering you would burn the world just to see him smile. You managed to take him to bed, you ran to the kitchen for a cup of lavender tea, when you're back, he's laying in bed, looking at the window.

- I brought you a cup of tea...

- My mother... She's in a nursing home, they have been calling me, because I haven't visited her, last time was 2 and a half years ago.

You're still in silence, he never talked to you about his family, you don't know what to say, you sit at the end of the bed while he continues talking and looking at the window.

- I took her there a few years ago because she was diagnosed with dementia, a politic of the nursing home is to pay a visit to the patient at least a couple times every year, but I can't, it's very difficult to me, she's a reminder of how unlovable I am.

You only knew König left his home at a very young age, he never told you why and you never forced him to talk more about it.

- Why? What makes it difficult?

- I know I never tell you about my past schatz because you already have enough with all the mess I am already... When I left my house to join the army, my mother told me not to bother to come back, that's what I did, I never came back but sometimes I sent her some money and a note, I always waited to have a response, but never arrived, eventually I stopped to do it. One day the police called me, they found her in a park, she was lost, she forgot where she lived, she told the cops she was looking for his little son, they took her home and found a note with my telephone number, they said I needed to take her to a nursing home if I didn't have time to take care of her, that's what I did. I tried to visit her during her first months in that place but all those times I tried, she was yelling at me, reminding me that my father left her because of me, telling me how hard it was to have me around because all she could see in me was my dad's abandonment, that's why I stopped to try to visit her.

- Oh König...

Your tears are blinding you, but you just lay behind him, you try to spoon him and you kiss his shoulder.

- You don't need to go, don't force yourself to do something you don't want to, baby I'm so sorry all this happened to you.

- The nurse who has been calling me, says my mother has been asking for me, that my mother is 'stable' at the moment, and it would be good for her to see me... I don't know what to do schatz...

- König, look at me please...

He turned around and looked at you, you caresses his face softly and kissed his forehead, you have never seen him like this, your heart is breaking, his eyes reflect all the sadness and darkness inside him, it's a new version of him you never expected to know, but you're sure that what you're feeling is the necessity to give him all the love he deserves.

- You're not your mother's rage and you're not your father's abandonment, okay? You're better than that, you're the most amazing person I've ever met, I love every version of yourself, you're all I ever wanted and whatever you decide to do you have my support and love, I will not leave you alone, never, we will solve this together, alright?

There it is, the spark in his eyes is back, he nodded in silence and kissed you over and over again, whispering how much he loves you and how safe he feels with you at his side.

It doesn't matter how unlovable he feels sometimes, you know you will be there to show him how wrong he is.

#cod x reader #x yn #long reads #fanfiction #x reader #könig #call of duty x reader #kortac #könig call of duty #konig cod #konig x you #konig x reader #konig x fem!reader #konig x gn!reader #konig x y/n #konig x female reader #könig x reader #könig x you #könig x y/n #könig cod #Spotify

[babygirl-riley]

There was During You Pt.II

Both you and Ghost came to terms of being in love

“I’ve never fallen from quite this high. Falling into your ocean eyes.”

Warnings: fluff, establishment of relationship, mentions of sex, swearing

simon x reader guide

simon x reader fluff/angst list

pt.I pt.III

You leaned back in the tub feeling the warmth of it relax your muscles. The candles flickering the darkness and the smell of lavender made you relax even more. You heard footstep approach as you felt a hand graze your cheek.

“Care for me to join love?” You opened your eyes for the beautiful caramel brown eyes looking at you. You smiled at him and shook your head. You scoot yourself up as Simon came from behind you, having himself nestled against you, wrapping his arms around you. You played with his tatted arm as you sighed in content.

Simon brought you close as he placed his lips on your shoulder. You leaned against his back even more. “You ‘ight, didn’t go too hard?” He mumbled kissing more up your neck.

You moaned quietly. “No, little sore but nothing too serious,” You chuckled as you looked over a bit to kiss his cheek. “Going rough isn’t always bad.”

He hummed into your skin as he rubbed your sides. Both of you were pent up bad, mission that almost took Soap’s and Price’s life. It was the most difficult one so far for you at least. So when Price gave the go for the task force to have a little leave, both you and Simon went to his apartment. Non stop sex for hours, he was rough against your body. Biting, small choking, his grasps harsher. You could have stopped it at anytime but it felt good everywhere. His back was also marked by you, the scratching from the pleasure that would run through your veins.

“How’s your back?” You asked moving to face him.

“Nothin’ I can’t handle,” He smiled looking at you with lidded eyes. You cupped his cheek and kissed him softly before nestling back into him. It was quiet, a good content quiet. Both of you have been together for over a year never established anything.

Simon noticed the way his actions have changed around you. He made sure you were alright during missions, make sure he was sitting next to you during debriefs, and especially making you your favorite tea he introduced you. Then going to each others flat and staying there until the next mission or work at the base. Simon has been in denial about the sudden change of feelings towards you and so have you.

Simon even noticed by the way he would feel when you looked at him. Giving him a soft smile. The flutter that would fill his chest. The way he changed his actions, being soft with you, making sure you were safe. Even the last couple of months he has taken you out for dinners, activities, or just work outs. Simon never really wanted or needed someone to be around. You. You changed that.

It was the same for you, wanting to be near him. Hear his voice. Make sure you can touch him. Simon never admitted it neither have you. But both of you have shown each other the difference. Both of you too stubborn to say anything but the shift change between the situation-ship to something more.

You noticed the small acts of service he has been doing for you. You have been doing the same, more smiling when he was around, getting excited when you see the skull mask appearing. Making sure he was fine on missions. Leaving small things at his apartment, like a toothbrush. Some clothes being left in drawers.

Simon sighed once more. “You should move in.” You mumbled, your heart rate picking up.

Simon froze from behind you, his hands stopping. You froze as well. It was a long silence before he shifted a bit. “Or you can move into mine,” He offered. “It’s a bit bigger.”

You smiled a bit. “That would be fine, my lease ends in a couple of months.” Simon hummed, going quiet again, the air feeling tense. “We don’t have to though,” You whispered could feel cold sweat starting on your forehead. “I know this is just sex and I don’t want to…”

“Ya think this is just sex?” He interrupted, his voice lowering.

You felt a hitch in your throat, is this the time? What if he runs away from you admitting what is happening is more than the sex? Or close up? Or request a move out of the 141. You inhaled and moved to turn to him. His brown eyes locking on yours, his eyes searching for the answer. His heart was beating hard enough he was sure you could hear.

Simon shouldn’t have said anything, he noticed the nervousness in your eyes. Which made him want to get up and leave entirely. Act like nothing happened. On the other hand he couldn’t move, he wanted to know what is going to be the answer.

“I,” You paused letting out a shutter. “I don’t think so,” His facial expression didn’t move from the emotion he had on originally, you couldn’t read him like this yet. You both never talked about feelings much let alone how you both feel about each other. “Simon…I have felt like this. I think it has become something more. Something that we both are scared of but I know that I am not afraid of us.”

Simon listened closely waiting for the punchline of ‘But.’ Or ‘It won’t work.’ But it never led to that, the sentence ending there. Simon glared for a moment before he inhaled. “I share the same thoughts love,” He sat up as the water moved against your bodies. “I’m…scared as well.”

He had been terrified the last couple of months. When he first realized that the feelings had changed was when your life was almost taken. Bullet just grazing your head. You knocked out from the other bullets hitting your vest, blood pooling from your head. He thought you were a goner until you all reached the medical tent. He paced, he couldn’t sleep, he could barely think as you were being worked on.

When Price came into the room with Gaz, Soap, and him. He thought you were gone but once Price said you were awake and moving. His heart skipped then leaped into full speed. When walking into the tent, he froze, everything hitting him like a freight train. You smiling at him and reaching for him. For him. That’s when he knew he was not in a friends with benefits relationship.

You smiled, the smile that always lightened his mood. The smile that right then Simon could see the light engulfing his dark thoughts of what ifs. Anyone he got this close to, to consider love for always gets taken away. He is afraid of saying it, acknowledging it but now with your comfort smile it went away.

You placed a hand on his cheek. “Me too but Si…I never have fallen this hard before. I don’t know if that scares you more than me but I have to say it I can’t…”

Before you could even finish Simon’s hand went to the back of your neck to pull into a kiss. Simon had been feeling the same way, relief engulfing his chest and veins. Finally he felt like everything was coming together. That he felt safe and loved. The kiss was passionate and basically hit the air out of you. You kissed him back, as your tongues danced against one another. It felt like your world was coming together, fitting a puzzle piece you have been so carefully making.

You didn’t know how it got to the point of you on your bed. He worshiped your body, slowly kissing your body, nipping and sucking on your favorite spots. His hands softly roaming your body. Squeezing your hips or breasts. It felt like you were on cloud 9, your body just feeling adrenaline after a work out. Simon sat back admiring your naked body on the bed. “Fuck baby, what have you done to me?” He whispered crawling back up, hovering over your body. Caging you in. Making you feel secure and safe.

You smiled up at him kissing him tenderly. You wanted this for so long, just watching Simon’s eyes soften whenever you touched him tenderly. You broke the kiss and stroke his cheek. “What have we done to each other?”

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty modern warfare #simon ‘ghost’ riley #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley smut #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon #simon ghost #simon ghost x you

[tonkatsubowl]

false love. vii

jing yuan x fem!reader

nsfw themes (cursing and stuff i think. mentions of domestic abuse and self harm. mentions of suicide. no, jing yuan aint hurting u bb girl). read at your own risk.

┈┈

⪩ arranged marriage. the reader and jing yuan have an arranged marriage and she is stuck, disliking every moment of it, until…

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english isn’t my first language, so please don’t mind the grammatical errors. (っ◞‸◟ c)

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TERM DIRECTORY

◖y/n: your name

◖e/c: eye color

◖h/c: hair color

◖l/n: last name

part one. ꕤ part two. ꕤ part three. ꕤ part four. ꕤ part five. ꕤ part six.

➽ requested tag list: @immahuman @lovingnahida @nayukiyukihira @dollfaced-erin (please comment below to be added to the tag list. i forgot who wanted to be tagged from now on so please let me know. sorry if i forgot you)

the next morning, you were clearly sore.

you were covered in love marks; bites, hickeys, but they were soft in terms of... well, image. and so was your session last night with your husband.

it was your first time doing it too, and jing yuan had been incredibly gentle with you. yes, it did hurt, it stung, but every moment that you felt any source of pain, he stopped to make sure you were okay.

after that, you had fallen asleep in his arms, and being unable to leave your side, he was unable to do any sort of aftercare for you... until the very next morning.

your eyes fluttered awake to the sight of soft, gentle rays of the sunlight invading through the window. your thighs were sore, and you were still hidden underneath the covers of your now shared blanket with jing yuan. you were so comfortable, you didn't want to move... but also, you were sore as well, so you definitely didn't want to do anything today.

looking to your right, you didn't see jing yuan anywhere. you felt a little saddened–maybe he had to go somewhere and do something important?

or maybe he was unsatisfied with your body and left you.

...nay, don't think like that now, y/n. the both of you literally shared a single night together, and he had always protected you and made sure you were safe and sound... especially now. you were fighting your self doubts, your insecurities and anxieties. because jing yuan loved you all the time.

"y/n?" you hear jing yuan's voice softly protrude through the door as it was slid open. he entered, holding a tray of what appeared to be breakfast and a side of tea that was given, too. your eyes brighten as you sat up, using the covers of your blanket to cover your chest.

his eyes linger on your shoulders and neck, satisfied that he gave you his territorial marks—you were his, and these marks are proof.

"jing yuan," you beam, happy to see him. you felt the world's weight lift off your shoulders as you see him waltz in, placing the tray on the empty nightstand.

"did you sleep well? are you hurting? i brought a heat pad with me just in case, too, if you required it."

you blink. as he sat the tray of food down, you watch him retrieve some sort of ointment from himself, and you were immediately embraced by the scent of herbal eucalyptus and lavender.

"i slept well... and i am a little sore. you didn't have to do all of this." you murmur, a little shy.

"you're right. i don't have to. but i want to. i want to take care of my wife, always." jing yuan flashed a smile at you as he sat down next to you, rubbing the ointment into his hands. "please, show me your back. i'd like to treat the marks i left on you so they don't hurt as much. i apologize if i went a little too far."

you shake your head as you turned your back towards him, letting him treat you. "y-you didn't. you were gentle... and..." good thing you weren't facing him now. you were hiding your face, cheeks reddening. "...i enjoyed it."

...yeah, you weren't facing him, so you didn't get to witness the sight of red that dusted on his cheeks. he cleared his throat awkwardly, shy and touched by your comment. "..i'm glad, love." he said, before giving a warning, "it's going to be cold."

gently, he rubbed the ointment all over your back in silence. you couldn't help but remember the scenes of last night. he was heavily breathing against you, whispering into your ear, kissing you, your neck... you immediately covered your face as your blush had deepened its color.

"ah-? y/n? is it too much?" jing yuan blinked, staring at you with worry.

"n-no, it's not that. i just... n-nothing."

"i see," jing yuan murmured, leaning in to give the back of your neck a kiss, "as long as you aren't hurt. then that's all that matters to me."

finishing up the treatment, he puts the ointment away before reaching over towards the tray of your aftercare food and drink, handing you the warm cup of jasmine tea.

"here, some jasmine tea for you." jing yuan smiles. "and some food here, too. if you want it."

your eyes brighten, glistening with delight as you take the cup. your lips meet at the brim of the cup, sipping gently.

securely, jing yuan was admiring you all the same, especially when he started to remember how adorable you looked last night. your cute voice, your mewls and moans, how you softly said his name... now it was his turn to feel embarrassed as he looks away, coughing into his hand.

you blink, looking at him with a bit of concern. "jing yuan? are you sick?"

"n-.. no. don't worry about it. just something was... erm, in my throat." he coughed again before clearing his throat. "i am fine, i reassure you."

you nod, smiling softly before you leaned over, planting a kiss onto your husband's lips. "okay... i believe you. but um... what's the agenda for today? will you be busy?"

"i was going to be busy," jing yuan responded, "but i decided to skip today and take an off day. i wanted to take you out later."

"ah," you tilt your head, "r-really? take me out? to where?"

"well, there's an event happening over at the central starskiff haven. have you been to one of those before?"

you shake your head, "no. what sort of event is it?"

"well, i guess it's like some annual race or whatever... but besides that, there is plenty of food and other stuff i'm sure you'd like. this time, i truly won't leave your side..." he gently squeezed your hand. "...not even a second. security has been heightened too, so you won't have to worry about... getting hurt again. "

you look down to your intertwined hands, safety and happiness washing over you as you nod slowly. "...alright."

over at the starskiff haven, you were immediately met by the bustling sounds of civilians and children joyously chattering amongst themselves. your hand was held by jing yuan the entire time, and never once did he let go of you for anything.

the event was a literal race of different starskiffs. others came to show off their modified engines and appearances, some came to just relax and enjoy the show, others just wanted to be there for the food... and now you were here, doing all of the above (besides racing).

jing yuan, you and lieutenant yanqing were accompanying each other, although yanqing was remaining a great distance from the both of you as he was ordered to remain on the look out for any suspicious activity.

you and jing yuan were just spending time together, not a single worry or doubt filled your guys' minds.

"ah, sesame balls," jing yuan purchased a few of these desserts before handing one to you, "here, have a try. then after, i'll take you to a nice location where you can see the view of the race."

you smile, taking the dessert before taking a bite out of it. realizing it was delicious, you immediately finish the dessert, your eyes brightening. "i-it's good!" you exclaimed as your husband now gave you an entire bag of them.

carrying the bag in your arms, you allowed your husband to take you over to a sky-scrape like building. the two of you traversed into it before finally hitting the top of the roof, where a beautiful tree was growing upon the top. a few people were here with their lovers, and you were merely one of the lovebirds that came to the roof. the tree almost looked similar to a cherry blossom tree, given the dancing of the twirling pink petals that were flying about... it was a beautiful view, especially with the tree's rain of its children.

you look towards jing yuan as he motioned you to come over, allowing you to sit next to him. you weren't really scared of heights, although you were a tad anxious. but you saw the beauty of xianzhou luofu, and... it brought you peace. with how beautiful the sky looked, with how nature beautified it all... you could stay up here forever just admiring the view.

the starskiffs below were racing amongst each other. you could hear the distant cheers of the spectators from below as you watched, smiling as you were watching how fast they were going. it was... fun.

"y/n."

your eyes peel towards jing yuan, a soft look adoring his visage as he was fixated upon you... then your eyes travel to a small, gift wrapped box.

"i've been meaning to give this to you. but... i was unable to."

you blinked as jing yuan placed the box into your hands, and you were met with the soft cool material of the object. you look back up at him, and he initiated with a nod. he wanted you to open it.

"when i had left you for a moment that day in aurum alley, it was to get you this. i was unable to look at it at first without thinking that i failed you, but..."

you opened it, revealing what appeared to be a beautiful jade necklace. it was very simple, very beautiful and nothing too excessively decorated. it was as though it were crafted by the hands of a goddess, and surely enough, it was made to be worn by one.

"...i just didn't want to continue to think like that. so i bought this for you. real jade, and all. fu xuan even enchanted it with some protection charm, as well."

you were silent, unable to say anything, admiring the piece of accessory. slowly, jing yuan extended his hands, lifting the necklace before slowly bringing it around your neck, helping you wear it.

"...y/n."

you look at him, your eyes nearly met with the stinging sensation of tears. you were... undeniably happy. at loss for words.

"...i want to apologize to you, at the bottom of my heart... for letting you get hurt that day."

god, how many times does he have to apologize for this? you already forgave him so many times...

"i should've been stronger to prevent you from g—!?"

to shut him up, you leaned over to give him a kiss, silencing him for a moment. you felt him smile against your lips as he pulls his arms around you, bringing you into his embrace.

"...you...you should stop that." you murmur. "please. it's okay. i'm safe now, aren't i?"

jing yuan nods slowly. you were right. he just... felt incredibly bad.

"...yes. you are. always."

he sighed deeply, his lips tugged to a faint smile. his hand came to hold yours again, digits intertwining.

"...y/n."

"yes... jing yuan?"

there was a moment of silence as his eyes lingered upon your own.

"...i love you."

the gentle breeze of the sky allowed the petals of the cherry-blossom like tree to dance even more, greeting each of their partners with a waltz. your heart had fluttered, your eyes brightening at his confession to you — for the first time, too. yes, the two of you spent that night together. the two of you were basically married. but...

to hear those words... you were filled with pure joy. because... that's how you felt too, with him.

and you can safely say it without a doubt,

"...i love you too, jing yuan!"

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #jing yuan #hsr jing yuan #honkai star rail jing yuan #jing yuan x reader

[ghouljams]

Witch does some magic, Fae!Price remembers why witches are so dangerous

this is a longer one(1.4k words), dealing with a lot of spell work, and mostly OC stuff.

One of your friends is laying on your kitchen table. Arms folded to cushion their head, half asleep as you scrub their back with salt. You already washed the table down, chalked your largest circle on the floor, made sure your herbs were prepped. You really don’t know why you keep doing this to yourself. You let your eyes wander to look out your back door, peaking across your garden to your back gate.

“I can come back if you’re waiting on someone,” You friend mumbles, you shake your head. You grab a washcloth and dip it in the copper bowl of new moon water to rinse the salt off their back.

“You’re fine, I want to get this done today.” They hum, sitting up enough to finish their last swallow of tea before passing you the mug.

“You’re always so serious about this.”

“You pay me to be serious about it.” You step out of the circle to put their drained mug in the sink and finish your own. Hyssop tea isn’t your favorite but better safe than sorry. You grab another copper bowl and a small sachet from your cupboard. Another hum from your friend. “Where’d you get the baby ginger?” You ask, removing the small humanoid root from its sachet and placing it in the new bowl.

“Trade secret,” You try not to think too hard about it. There are a lot of things about your friend you try not to think too hard about. “Figure that should be enough to mix a few sessions worth of ash.”

You nod, casting another glance out your back door. You need it open for the sun, for the tie to summer to keep the room warm, but you also need your garden free of distractions. You twist open the jars you’d pulled. Morning Glory, Comfrey, Angelica, Marjoram, Ginger, fuck what are you missing?

“Ruda.” Your friend tells you, their eyes closed peacefully.

“You hate Ruda.” You leave the circle again to grab the herb. It feels like you’ve got everything but the kitchen sink in this bowl.

“The dragon’s blood will cover it,” You pause, at the edge of the circle, stomach twisting, “I can smell it.” Your fingers tighten on your jar, you hate when they do this, talk to you like they know what you’re thinking. Especially when they know better. You step over the chalk circle and deposit a few pieces of ruda in the bowl. You’re quick to strike a match and light the mixture, letting it burn down as you center yourself.

The sound of the wind rustling through the trees, the light herbal small of your garden, the warmth of summer, you do your best to keep your focus on the earth. Stable. Grounded. Your herbs crackle as they burn, the smoke finding its way out your back door, hardly bothering to be contained by your circle. Your house is silent, your fingers are warm and buzzing with potential.

Everything is easier after this, or faster. Magic always seems faster once you set it free to run. You mix the herbal ash with a little alcohol and some chips of dragon’s blood resin to make ink. You clean your needles and set your intention. You trace the patterns already on your friend’s skin and find the breaks that need to be mended, and snap on some gloves.

You poke new lines of honeycomb across their shoulder. Dip your needle in the ink and fix the pentacle on their spine, the salt, the concentric circles. Hyssop, lavender, parsley, you sink comfortably into your work tattooing herbs and wards. You mind is clear, present and gone at the same time. It’s comfortable here. Your friend sleeps as you work, not even twitching as you wipe at the ink. 

You don’t think of it as what it is. Blood magic. Magic you shouldn’t be doing, wouldn’t be doing if it was anyone but them. Magic made just for this singular person, just for their needs. You mumble to yourself as you work, watching the pentacles turn, the sword glint. The honeycomb drips onto the lavender making you wipe at it to check that your lines are all connected. It’s complicated magic, a spell you’ve been weaving and maintaining for years. You trace your fingers around the unbroken ring at the center, the dark abyssal black that fills it. The sink.

You pull back and inspect your work, roll your shoulders, check the time. You pat your friend’s shoulder to wake them up before spraying the fresh tattoo with green soap. They groan and stretch out over your table.

“Feels like a fucking rock on my back.” They grumble. You hum, cleaning your work station to give them room to sit up.

“Gotta charge it, that’s what the sun’s for.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know the drill.” You help them up, careful to avoid breaking the circle or knocking over any of your herbs. They wave you off as they exit your house to your garden, sinking onto the little stool you’d set out. You hover close by, just to be sure they don’t faint. It’s happened before. You glance at the gate when they do, feeling your stomach flip when you catch sight of Price watching you.

Your friend waves you off, shooing you towards your distraction. It’s good you didn’t notice him sooner, it might have broken your concentration. The last thing you need is for a spell this intricate to backfire.

“You have a client,” Price nods at your friend, you don’t bother looking back at them, sure they’re enjoying the sun.

“You haven’t been around in a while,” You counter. Wincing a little at yourself. Truth for a truth. Though one is more an embarrassing acknowledgement that you noticed his absence. Price smiles at that before covering his mouth, trying to spare a little of your pride.

“Did you miss me?”

“No.” You say quickly. He nods, it’s cute the way you lie to him. “Did you need something?”

“Just wanted to check up on you,” He tells you, you raise a brow, clearly not buying it. The “and” that should follow that statement hangs in the air between you. He’s not impolite enough to impose himself on your hospitality when you have another guest. Especially not when you’re working.

It’s strange though, if he hadn’t seen you bringing your client out, he might not have noticed them at all. They look human, but.

But they don’t smell like anything. They don’t have any presence at all. You smell like burnt herbs, ink, residual magic falls off of you and threads through his. It’s terribly distracting. You’re always distracting. Enough to keep his attention off of whatever is in your garden.

“Well, here I am. No need to drop by just to see me.” Price respectfully begs to differ. He has every reason to see you. Your sincerity in the statement doesn’t go unnoticed.

“I thought you didn’t deal with creditors.” Price leans away from the threshold as you turn to talk to your client. He hadn’t even registered their presence.

“Go wait in the house if you’re all charged,” You tell them quietly. Charged. Price knows that term, what were you charging? The whole person? Your client shrugs and turns back towards the house.

Price’s stomach rolls, and he has to stop himself from taking a step back. Fae trap. The blossoming tattoo on their back hums and moves, alive with captured and contained magic. A seal on the client’s presence, a ward, a living hex breaker, all wild fed magic channeled through your spell work. Not human, just disguised as one. He can feel the hooks spinning off of them now that he knows what to look for. The fae itself doesn’t seem too dangerous, but the spell on their back...

You look up at him so innocently. Sweet as can be, waiting for him to take his eyes off your retreating client. “It’s good, right?” You ask, and he knows exactly what you’re asking. Knows that you know exactly what you’ve created.

You laugh, and wave your hand, “Not a chance, too much upkeep. I’d burn through the ink faster than they do.”

“Bloody hell,” Price swears, unsure what else to say to dislodge the knot his stomach has twisted itself into, "So you let a hunter in but not me?

"Hunters are stupid," you look over your shoulder towards the house, "think with their stomachs, easier to guard against. You on the other hand..." You look back at him, it's clearly a compliment, not one you're willing to say aloud, but he'll take it.

“You don’t have one of those on you, do you?” Price asks, a mixture of pride and apprehension rising in his throat.

#oc: witch #warning do not do blood magic at home or on anyone else #this is a closed course with professionals #woah who is that walking (actual) bombshell? #Price doesnt stick around long since Witch has to finish with her friend #but hes also happy to get the hell out of there #captain john price #john price x reader #fae!Price #i was like do i wanna post this its a lot of OC work? but then i remembered its my blog and i can do what i want #also because this friend is important and i feel like they need a little preview #stupid hunters: ghost and König and lowkey Soap

[ravenssilver]

Hey can we get some Mountain Dew cuddles? Maybe Dew had a rough day and just needs cuddles from the big man?

hnnnghfbfb… mountaindew:(

900 words of dew having a rough time and mountain knowing him well enough to see past his anger

i didn’t really get too into the bad day, so this is mainly comfort with a bit of snappy dew at the beginning. no cws :)

under the cut, if you please<3

Dew hated laundry duty. Hated it.

There was a constant flow of dirty clothes, someone in the ministry was a dirty freak and had clothes that were literally solid as a rock, and he wasn’t allowed to leave until all the clothes for the day were cleaned.

The Brother of Sin that was helping him was doing the exact opposite of helping. He had no idea how to do laundry, used hot water with non color separated clothes, and apparently had no idea what a dryer sheet was.

Dew eventually snapped and kicked the Brother out of the laundry room, making a very angry mental note to complain about him to Copia.

Though, even with the Brother being stupid, clothes were still getting cleaned while he was around, and now that he wasn’t, Dew was sure to be working for a lot later.

And then the laundry cleaner bottle exploded on him.

A towel may have been caught on fire…

When everyone saw Dew grumbling up a storm as he entered the common room hours after they had, they knew that he hadn’t had a good day.

“Dew! We made pasta! Do you want some?” Aurora asked, hoping to cheer the fire ghoul up.

Now, if it were anyone else, Dew would’ve snapped even after such a nice and tentative question, but this was Aurora, so he knew he couldn’t.

“No.” Dew said, albeit shortly. He then walked down the hall to his room, his tail thrashing and making clear he was pissed as hell.

Aurora looked back at the pack, getting head-shakes from the ghouls who had known Dew the longest.

“Honeydew,” Mountain spoke softly, his knuckles gently rapping on Dew’s door. “Are you alright?” Mountain asked quietly, hearing Dew grumble in response. Mountain smiled softly, expecting that response.

“May I come in?” Mountain asked, taking his hands away from the door. It was quiet for a moment before Mountain heard Dew drag himself out of bed and come over to the door, opening it and glaring up at the taller ghoul.

“You’re tired..” Mountain spoke, his voice gentle. Dew scoffed, upset that the tall ghoul could read him so well. “What about it?” Dew sneered, not in the mood to entertain anyone at the moment.

“I could make some tea. I have lavender in the kitchen, so it will help you sleep.” Mountain offered. “I don’t want your remedies,” Dew scoffed yet again, Mountain growing amused by the constant sound leaving the fire ghoul.

It was like he was trying to puff out smoke.

“That’s alright.” Mountain nodded. “What do you need?” Mountain asked.

Dew opened his mouth, definitely going to say something snappy. Though, he knew Mountain didn’t deserve that, and that he was safe with the bigger ghoul.

“A Mountain-Dew night…” Dew mumbled, glancing around before looking back at Mountain.

A Mountain-Dew night was a night where Mountain and Dew holed up in Mountain’s room, Mountain with some tea, and Dew with Mountain Dew soda. It was affectionately named by Swiss, though none of the pack really knew what happened on Mountain-Dew nights behind the earth ghoul’s door.

Everyone knew it was chaste and loving, but other than that they had not a clue.

Well, except Rain. But he could keep a secret like nobody else.

The earth ghoul smiled and nodded. “Do you want me to go get your soda?” Mountain asked. Dew shook his head, lacing his fingers with Mountain’s and walking to the bigger ghoul’s room.

Though, Dew halted and turned to the kitchen instead. Mountain laughed and gently pulled Dew back, shaking his head.

“I’ve had my tea for the day, Droplet. It seems tonight is a drink-less night,” Mountain smiled, pressing a kiss to Dew’s forehead and walking with him to his plant-filled room.

Dew remained silent, as he usually did during Mountain-Dew nights. Mountain didn’t mind, of course. He loved Dewdrop, both when he was silent and when he was loud.

Plus, Mountain would be a bit of a hypocrite to shun someone for being quiet.

Mountain led Dew into his room, allowing the small ghoul to raid his closet for his much bigger clothes. Once Dew returned in a sweater he looked like he was swimming in, he saw Mountain setting up a nest on his bed with soft blankets and pillows. An essential oil steamer was going, wafts of petrichor filling his nose.

“Rainy?” Dew asked, looking around. Mountain shook his head. “He promised Aeon that he’d stay in his room this week. I figured I’d get the next best thing since he can’t join us tonight.” Mountain spoke, his voice gentle as he did so.

Dew nodded and shuffling over, climbing into Mountain’s bed and helping him finish up the nest.

Mountain let Dew set up his side how he wanted, knowing not to interfere with the fire ghoul and his habits that helped him feel comfortable.

It wasn’t long before Dew was settled, his head nuzzled into the pillow Mountain used as he waited for the bigger ghoul to lay down.

As soon as the earth ghoul was settled, Dew draped himself over the bigger ghoul, purring as he heard Mountain’s steady heartbeat.

“Jane Austen?” Mountain asked, his voice almost silent. Dew nodded, his purring loud enough for Mountain to hear, but not obnoxious. Mountain picked up Pride and Prejudice, flipping to the page they left off at during the last Mountain-Dew night.

Mountain began to read, Dew’s purrs leveling out into a steady flow of utter content.

#ghost band #the band ghost #ghost the band #ravenssilver writes #nameless ghouls #dew ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #mountain ghoul #i feel like i’ve written too much angry dew #so this is more dew getting comforted <3 #and me sobbing over how much i love mountain in the background

[justabigassnerd]

Sleepless Nights

Pairing - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x daughter!reader, Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw

Word count - 1,853

Warnings - lack of sleep, mostly fluff and comfort

Summary - after a number of sleepless nights, your dad provides you with the comfort you'd been needing in order to sleep

A/N - hey y'all it's new fic time! And of course, it be a new part of Hangman junior. This was an anon request and honestly, the ideas y'all are coming up with are amazing and are making me so happy! Anyways I'll stop rambling now. As per y'all please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!

When you learnt that Bradley would be moving into your house you were overjoyed. You were happy that your dad and Bradley were able to take that next step in their relationship. But when the sleepless nights made a horrible return, you realised you couldn’t seek refuge in your dad's arms anymore now that Bradley was filling the empty space.

At first, it was manageable. You’d manage to doze off enough to be somewhat alert during the day. But then it gradually got to the point where you couldn’t sleep at all and no amount of calming podcasts, lavender oil or chamomile tea could help. You tried every technique in the book but none seemed to work. So most nights you found yourself moving to the living room with a glass of water or tea while finishing any homework you needed to do in order to keep your mind off how tired you were.

Unbeknownst to you, your dad had picked up on your odd behaviour. He’d asked you a few times whether you were feeling okay but you simply brushed him off with a smile, assuring him that you were fine and he had nothing to worry about. He wanted to do some digging to see if he could find out what was going on but Bradley told him not to.

“y/n trusts you. She really does. She’ll come to you when she’s ready.” He had mumbled reassuringly as he rolled over in bed, slinging his arm over Jake’s waist, and burying his face in his pillow. Jake was lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling as he pondered his ideas on getting you to tell him what was going on.

“I know. I’m just worried is all.” Jake replied, looking over and smiling softly at Bradley who returns with a lopsided grin of his own.

“Just give her a little time.” Bradley says, his eyes slipping shut as Jake’s hand finds its way into his hair, humming softly at the familiar feeling of Jake’s hand slipping through his hair. Bradley would never admit it to anyone outside of the four walls of his house but he loved when Jake ran a hand through his hair. It helped him find sleep so much easier. Not long into Jake messing with Bradley’s hair, Bradley fell asleep. Jake observed him sleeping for a moment. Admiring how his parted lips released small puffs of air with each exhale. How relaxed his features were as he slept. Jake then tried to find sleep but it didn’t care to appear before him on this night so he was left to his thoughts only being pulled out of them when he heard a set of footsteps pass his room and make their way downstairs. Jake immediately knew it was you. After all, there was no one in the house other than you, him and Bradley. And since he was in his room with Bradley’s arm over his torso, it was a safe bet to assume it was you. After waiting fifteen minutes to see if you were just grabbing a drink and not hearing you return, Jake decided to get up and check up on you. As Jake went to get up, Bradley’s arm tightens around Jake’s body, pulling him back to the bed. Jake attempted to lift Bradley’s arm to wiggle out from underneath him but Bradley still held on, grumbling in his sleep at Jake trying to leave.

“Bradley, I need to go to the bathroom.” Jake whispers, hoping his words get through to Bradley’s unconscious mind to get him to loosen his grip. He loved Bradley, he really did. But when Bradley cuddled him, he turned into a koala and wouldn’t let go for anything. Thankfully, Jake’s whispered words got through to Bradley and his grip was loosened enough for Jake to wiggle out from underneath him. When Jake had successfully freed himself, he tucked the duvet back around Bradley and pressed a quick kiss to his forehead before heading downstairs in search of you. When Jake reaches the bottom of the stairs, he looks into the living room and sees you on the sofa, legs tucked underneath you with a blanket thrown over your lap. You had a cup of tea on the coffee table and were scrolling through your phone in the dim light of the lamp.

“You okay?” The gentle voice of your dad had your head shooting up as you saw him leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded as he smiles softly.

“Fine. I came down a minute ago. I’ll go up soon.” You say with a smile, hoping that your dad had only just stirred and wasn’t aware you’d been down here for nearly twenty minutes.

“You’ve been down here for almost twenty minutes. What’s going on?” Jake asks, unfolding his arms and pushing away from the doorframe so he can cross to you, sitting down next to you. Looking over at your dad and seeing the worry on his face you knew you couldn’t hide it from him anymore.

“I’m just struggling to sleep a little. I’ll be okay soon enough.” You say, shrugging to try and convince your dad it’s not as bad as he might be thinking.

“How long’s this been going on for?” Jake asks quietly, watching you carefully. He sees the internal battle in your eyes about telling him the truth or lying. Eventually, you realise that you’re not going to win the battle before it starts.

“Almost a week I’ve been not sleeping. A few days before that I could kinda sleep but not well enough.” You admit quietly, glancing down at the blanket as you run a finger across the soft material.

“Oh, my sweet girl. You could’ve told me.” Jake says, carefully reaching out to pull you into his arms as you immediately reciprocate the hug.

“Did you try the techniques I taught you?” Jake then asks, shifting so he could look down at you. He knew you had trouble sleeping when you were little and he taught you a variety of techniques to help you to sleep as well as keeping you stocked up with lavender oil for your diffuser.

“None of them worked.” You say, curling further into your dad’s embrace, relishing the comfort his hold could provide you with.

“Do you remember when I was little and I used to sleep with you because it was the only way I could get to sleep?” You ask, not moving to look up at your dad.

“Yeah, of course. You kept sneaking in without me knowing.” He chuckled quietly, remembering how some nights he’d stir in the middle of the night to find you curled up in his bed.

“Sometimes I miss that. It really helped me sleep back then. But I can’t do it anymore because Bradley’s there. Not that I’m upset Bradley moved in. I’m so happy he lives here permanently.” You say, quickly elaborating at the end so your dad doesn’t think you’re upset about Bradley moving in. Jake softened at your words and tightened his hold on you slightly. After a minute or so of silence, Jake suddenly got up and gestured for you to follow him.

“Come on, let's go to bed.” He says softly, watching as you get to your feet, throwing the blanket over the back of the sofa before picking up your cup of now cold tea and downing the remainder before taking the cup into the kitchen and putting it into the dishwasher. When you emerge from the kitchen, you find that your dad has disappeared upstairs already. You were tempted to stay downstairs but you knew that Jake would stay awake until he knew you were upstairs in bed. You begrudgingly head up the stairs after turning the lamp off and when you enter your room you were confused to find Jake already in there, making sure your diffuser was topped up with lavender oil in the soft light of your bedside lamp.

“Dad, you don’t need to do that.” You say, closing the door behind you as you enter.

“I do.” Jake replies simply, turning the diffuser on after making sure there was enough lavender oil. After completing his task, Jake turns to face you before flopping backwards on your bed and shuffling over to make space for you.

“What are you doing?” You ask with a raised eyebrow.

“You just told me how you missed this. And who am I to deny my daughter the help she needs to sleep?” Jake says, patting the space beside him on the mattress and waiting for you to join him. You rolled your eyes lightly but still moved to lie beside your dad, tugging the duvet over yourself as Jake wrapped an arm around you and tugged you into his side. You immediately snuggled into your dad's side, curling up and burying yourself as far as you could into his side.

“You comfy there, kiddo?” Jake asks with a grin, watching as you nod your eyes slowly closing when Jake begins to run a hand up and down your back. Within seconds, your breaths evened out and you slipped into a well-deserved sleep. Jake continued to run his hand up and down your back, wanting to ensure you’d be in a deep enough sleep to make it through the night when he stopped the action. Slowly, his eyes began to close too and he fell asleep with his daughter tight in his safe and comforting embrace.

The next morning, Bradley slowly awoke, reaching across the mattress in search of Jake’s warmth but couldn’t locate it. He slowly blinked his eyes open and frowned upon seeing the bed empty. He knew Jake was an early riser, even on weekends but usually Jake would remain in place if it were the weekend, waiting for Bradley to wake up. Bradley grabbed a hoodie and got himself out of bed, heading downstairs where he was expecting to find Jake pouring two cups of coffee while breakfast was cooking. To his confusion, Jake was still nowhere to be found. Bradley couldn’t find a note, nor did he see a text on his phone about Jake going out anywhere so he searched the house. When he still couldn’t find Jake, he found himself outside your room and figured if Jake wasn’t in here, you might know where he was. Bradley knocked gently on the door, opening it a crack when he didn’t get a response and when he stuck his head in he saw a sight that melted his heart.

He saw you curled up in Jake’s arms, your head on his chest as it rose and fell with each breath he took. Jake had an arm wrapped securely around you and he would occasionally squeeze you slightly. Bradley watched the two of you sleep for but a moment before carefully closing the door and heading downstairs to make breakfast himself. As he went down the stairs, he had one thought swimming through his mind.

He couldn’t wait to marry Jake one day.

taglist (comment or ask to be added):

@zbeez-outlet @kaceywithak @tsnelf7 @starkleila @cassadilasworld

#justabigassnerd #justabigassnerd writes #hangman junior #hangman junior universe #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fic #top gun maverick fic #hangman top gun #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman x daughter!reader #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x daughter!reader #jake 'hangman' seresin #jake 'hangman' seresin x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin x daughter!reader #jake hangman seresin #x daughter!reader #hangman x rooster #jake seresin x bradley bradshaw

[archonsoflove]

his love language | part 4

featuring: pantalone, baizhu x gender neutral! reader

content warning: slightly suggestive?

{gift receiving}

Having a partner with poor taste would have been a terrible blow to Pantalone’s reputation. But it seems having found himself in a relationship with you – from a humble family merchant background – has proven his prejudices wrong. While you aren’t as well versed as him in the arts and fineries of the higher living world, you learn quickly and listen, all your attention devoted to him.

And now, years later, finding a few more streaks of grey in lilac shocks nestled in black hair, you have learnt to read him like a book. Fine teas from Sumeru are brought home after visiting family, soothing incense and spice fill the empty corners of the home you share together.

When the wealthiest man in Teyvat could have anything he desires at the snap of a finger, what could you possibly give him that he hasn’t procured already?

The companionship and warmth you have brought into his once isolative and dull life as a businessman has altered his perception of this world dramatically, and he would go to any lengths needed to keep you safe.

Now, waking up beside you, tangled in mulberry silk sheets, a fine robe whispers across your skin as he moves it away to kiss your bare shoulder softly. Lithe fingers trace over your shoulder, your neck and to your jaw, pausing there to admire you stir in your sleep.

Watching the sun fall onto your skin, your hair catching the light as it falls over your face transfixes him into placidity. What more could a man want, when the thing he needed most woke up next to him each morning? He knew he would never find the answer, and quite frankly, he didn’t want to.

•

{words of affirmation}

“You work far too hard.”

This is what you keep telling Baizhu at the end of yet another long week. Haggard, at his wits end and scolded at by Changsheng as he places her down on the comforter next to you on the bed.

“I’ll be in the bathroom,” is all he says over his shoulder, his voice a shell of what it was, energetic and passionate on Mondays and all but lost by Fridays.

You follow him into the adjoining bathroom, smiling softly when you see his shoulders sag in relief. You’d drawn hot water and infused it with lavender and silk flower essence beforehand, as you usually did.

“Thank you, my love.”

Every week, you two seem to follow the same routine. You undress, both shedding the weight of the day from your shoulders, the hazy atmosphere in the room slowly but surely seeping into your weary bones. The clawfoot tub isn’t small by any means, but you find it slightly cramped with him between your legs, his back to you.

Gentle hands sweep up his hair into a messy bun once you’re both in, and with silk flower oil cupped in your palms, you gently knead into the sore muscles of his back and up into his neck. He hunches forward, eyes closed, a small sigh of relief escaping past his lips.

“It seems young Hongdou has behaved rather well this week,” you started, voice soft, accompanied by the soft splash of water as Baizhu righted himself.

“As much as she could, considering her endless complaints of bitter medicine,” Baizhu started, a small lilt of frustration in his tone. “But treatment has been curbing her illness quite dramatically as of late.”

“And I hear someone got her to take her medicine on the first try,” a small grin as you gently poked at his shoulder. “You did so well with her this week. In no time, all the other children will stop being so wary of Bubu Pharmacy, I’m sure of it.”

Baizhu chuckled lightly at that, turning his head to the side for you to leave a quick kiss on his cheek.

“It seems enticing them with something sweet doesn’t hurt.”

After long days such as these, he was endlessly grateful to have you at his side. After so many patients, unfortunate diagnoses, and long-term treatment plans, hearing your encouragement at the smallest of victories made him feel just that little bit better. While he tended to focus on the grand scheme of things, you helped reign him back into the present.

MASTERLIST

Who should I do next? Send an ask! 🤍

#genshin impact #genshin impact fanfics #genshin impact ask blog #genshin impact asks #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact headcanon #baizhu fluff #baizhu headcanons #baizhu x reader #baizhu x y/n #baizhu x gender neutral reader #baizhu x you #baizhu genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #baizhu x gn reader #pantalone x y/n #pantalone headcanons #pantalone fluff #pantalone genshin impact #pantalone x reader #pantalone x gender neutral reader #pantalone fatui #genshin impact fatui harbingers

[ceralmillkandstars]

a beautiful ring pt 2 (namor x siren!reader)

excerpt: 500 year old god and a young, enchanting mermaid who acts like an absolute gremlin- she refuses to act any different in front of the man who could slice her in half. and he’s absolutely enamored by it.

welcome to part two :) thank yew for all of the support i’ve gotten from you guys so far. def slowly but surely buildin up here. part three is in da works as we speak, praying for some smoochy time cuz smut is my fav thing to write. 

here we goooooo 

You were raised to love the sea, but your home was the surface. 

And by the gods did you need a shower. 

Your back was sore, your hair stiff from the sea salt, and the slowly dying adrenaline rush was leaving your eyes droopy and body hunched over. Flying back to Chicago in the dead of night after returning from East Hampton’s beach killed you, your victory of stealing from a god seems meaningless when there is no more energy left to boost your own ego. 

You found yourself surprised when you made it to your condo's doorsteps in downtown Chicago safely, in awe that you were just that good. Winding the prize out of your pocket, you gingerly look it over before laying it on your vanity desk, giving yourself a once over in the mirror after you beelined towards your room.

The east coast truly brought out the freckles under your eyes. You glowed, blowing yourself a kiss before trudging into the bathroom. Inhaling the crushed eucalyptus leaves affixed by twine atop of your shower head, you turn the knob as hot as you can stand, beginning to strip from the salty slip dress and undergarments. 

A melody begins to hum from your lips, effortlessly wrapping yourself in a protective transfixion as you step into the shower. A groan mixing in with the angelic sound emits from you while the steaming water droplets pelt your back. You lean your head back, running your now goldless, godless fingers through your hair, gingerly tending to your scalp with lavender shampoo and tea tree oil. 

You don’t quite know what you are, but you are too unique, too important, to not nourish.

Twirling your conditioner-soaked hair into a clip, you lather yourself with similarly smelling soap that reminds you of the tide pool you once bathed in as a girl, singing hymns that reminded you of the ocean floor you visited today. Twisting and swaying your hips to the song, you let the water turn ice cold once you cleaned yourself sparkling, your hair soft and relaxed, ready to be brushed and braided for the night. The frozen pellets encourage your fears, your inhibitions, the fear that you might have not been forgotten, swirl down the drain, the song coming to an end as you turn the dial off. 

Lavender lotion, face oil, floral spaghetti strap and matching undies, french braids with rosemary elixir being soaked by your scalp- the perfect night. 

Pizza would make it better, though. 

You plop yourself on the bed, back on the mattress, legs raised and pointed towards the air as you dig for your phone to dial whichever place had stuffed crust and pineapple. 

You are not alone, the moon murmurs to you, allowing a black sludge of dread to pool within you. Your body jerks up, and you cross your arms over your chest. Eyebrows furrowing and lips jutted, you scan your room. 

My kitchen, my kitchen. 

Who is in my kitchen? 

If another absolutely rancid, stupid boy who couldn’t take the hint and throw away your condo key (you’d never admit that was your fault), you were drowning them. Even if you had to hull their unconscious bodies to Chicago’s murky waters to do so. Even if that’s never happened before. 

That’s never happened before. 

With a paling face, you slide off the bed and storm into the kitchen. Sometimes, you prayed that the moon would foretell you important information before such an event occurred. 

“Listen, Chad, or Jason, or Elijah, who-fucking-ever, if someone ghosts you and doesn’t call you back that doesn’t give you authority to come into their home even if you have a key. I’m going to count to ten before I lay you flat on that countertop and remove your most important ligaments from your body because I am just so fucking tired- oh..” 

Your fears did not travel too far down the drain while you showered. Your protection hum was not enough. In fact, the unease of being out of control slithered back up and wrapped itself like a serpent around your neck in a chokehold, for the moon did not whisper to you soon enough that he had followed you back home. 

Your protection song was not enough. Usually, something so simple would cause an intruder to burst into a billion water droplets. Usually, you would have just come into the kitchen to discover a puddle and smile to yourself knowing that an idiot got what was coming to them. You did not need the moon to warn you of robbers, of shallow one night stands who can’t get enough of your hypnotic stares, of anyone coming into your home without permission. 

And yet, this god stands in your kitchen, seemingly perplexed by your adornment of antique plates and cups poorly stacked in the open cabinets, not one of them the same. His fingers trace along adjacent jars, reading to himself each herb and spice labeled and put away on the wood shelf. You mirror his annoyed expression as his eyes wander near the sink, finding a ripped open, half eaten, chocolate bar. 

“I wasn’t expecting company,” you murmur, taking soft steps towards the barrier of your kitchen. You find your fingers smoothing down the base of your floral tank top, giving an angsty stare towards the pair of matching panties acting as a second skin. 

Well, at least it didn’t look like you were lying. 

He did not change, his gold armor tightly affixed to his shoulders, spear tightly bound in his hands. The large, gold-plated necklace and larger than life pearls, other finely varnished necklaces stack upon one another and his curly, damp, yet neatly toppled hair with those earrings had your cheeks heating. 

Very rarely does one of your stature, your nature, become seduced themselves. 

Or so the moon tells you. 

“Do those earrings hurt from wearing them all day, or does swimming in the water help with the weight distribution?” You blurt, cheeks red, back straight. 

The god simply turns, giving you a slow once over. Quiet rage, curiosity swims in his eyes, a deadly demeanor flowing from him to you, you to him. 

Exposing pajamas and random questions being unanswered won’t stop you from making his atoms implode with a whisper, for disrespect is a sour taste on your tongue. 

Could you even kill him? Leave a scratch on his cheek? 

Internally, you scoff. You won’t kill a god. You might steal from one, but it would be purely selfish of you to kill this man. The moon has whispered secrets of an underground world since you were a child wishing to sleep sooner, and it would be against your very nature to slaughter the man who leads a dream world. 

So you continue on, filling in the bloodless silence as he turns to your dining table, “I like how you wear your oceanic garb on the surface. I think it’s neat.” 

Is he going to take the ring back? Kill you? I mean, if you were him, you’d kill you if caught. Maybe you should go get it. 

“I will not conform myself to the surface when I step foot onto this land.” The silky, calculated, deliberate cool tone reverberates around your home, the tranquil atmosphere melding into an eerie fog. 

You pucker your lips, nodding. 

The moon must be humored by your calmness before the very man whose spear could impale you before you could send another twinkle. Or horrified. Her daughter lackadaisical, wearing floral panties and a small, matching top in front of the serpent god.  

He stares at you for a second longer, his eyes melting any confidence, any tranquility left in your body. A small girl with a knack for pretty things quivers before the god. 

“I have heard rumors of the ones who are creatures of the sea. The creatures that can return to the surface world if they wish, full-bodied at their will. The creatures who can manipulate, who could conquer the world at their whim-”

“The moon does not wish me to conquer,” you bite, chin upturning. You turn, beginning to move towards your room. If you’re going to be interrogated, it better be with pizza. 

A gasp pelts from you as his spear shoots out in front of you in a swift, presiding motion. The sharp metal kisses your cheek, the flesh of it nearly missing being sheered off. 

Whiplash consumes you as you turn towards the god, face shot. 

You guess it’s not the right time for pizza. 

“The moon?” He quizzes, eyes narrowing, utterly fixated upon you. He observes as your chest heaves, your wide eyes staring down his spear, watching as you fight between looking at his face and that skillfully crafted weapon. There hasn’t been this powerful of a man so close to you before. 

You gulp, nodding, wishing you could straighten your back, turn up your chin, more,“Yes, the moon.” 

The spear slaps back to his side, and he moves away from you, continuing to contemplate your home. Your living room, your dining table, the half eaten dark chocolate bar sitting on the counter from the other night. Flowery, ethereal, a little messy. You strived to bring as much essence with you to the surface world as you could, finding incandescence in each piece you brought back to your condo. Stolen or not is long forgotten by now, all you know is that this is your home. 

A god is looking around your home. Cheeks heated, you pray to the Mother to take the embarrassment and hope he is even the slightest bit impressed. 

He strides towards the velvet couch, and you cringe as he sits. It’s unearthly to witness a sea god attempting to relax into your couch. It seems he feels the same way, unable to sit in an indestructible way, so he settles for resting his elbows on his knees, gazing up at you. 

“Do you have velvet couches at home?”

It is not a request when he states, “tell me about your moon.’

“It is not my moon,” you begin, tiptoeing towards the adjacent couch. You grab a small throw pillow, shielding your peaking, freckled stomach as you sit down. Any wrong moves, any innuendos you’d fight him in your apartment would mean slaughter. The moon warns you of this as you cross your legs and force yourself to face the god. “She is simply the moon. She holds the energy to the waters, and water is within us all- no matter the level. I serve her and her me.”

His gaze gives away he is not satisfied with this information, and you shrug your shoulders. There is little information you wish to give away tonight, your growling stomach and fluttering eyes urging you to find a way to end this conversation and get this man on his way. 

“What more is there to know?” What a teasing answer, and his brows rise in the slightest. You’re both struggling to keep your composure, this god used to his world bending to his will and your sleepy, angry hunger fueling whatever delinquency was about to arise. 

“How do you serve her?” You nearly groan at that demanding tone, it’s what- midnight? There’s no food, emphasis on no food, in your stomach and you wish to curl under your freshly washed winter duvet to borrow away until the upcoming afternoon instead of being questioned right now. 

“I am tired,” you feebly admit, voice soft like silk and edged glass. A fine balance for a soon-to-be tantruming moon child. You prayed to her to not let him see you act a fool after stealing his ring. 

A fine price to pay for not being powerful enough. “Can we continue this conversation another time? You know where I live. I just want some pizza- what? Pizza is good.” 

You nearly scoff at his grimacing complexion. Slowly deteriorating, your once gentle, feline gaze began to melt into a matching stare as he replied. 

“The surface world food is vile.”

“Have you ever had stuffed crust pizza?” Gods, arguing was going to get you nowhere. What can you do to get this god to leave? 

He is not leaving, child. 

“How do you serve the moon?” He repeats, straightening his back. 

He just won’t quit. You ponder how it turns out for someone to push his button; a fire ignites in your stomach at the thought. 

“I’m in my undies right now, I’m hungry, I am exhausted, and I don’t even know who you are. Come back in the morning once I’ve eaten my vile food,” you spit, “and I’ll think about telling you all my cute little secrets.” 

Incredulously, his mouth gapes open in the slightest before standing up, bolting to tower over you faster than you can recalibrate yourself. Before your gaze can linger on his thighs for more than a moment's notice, you find a tight grip on your jaw, cheeks squishing and your lips pursed in the slightest. Dread consumes you, and you feel the moon shake her head. 

“You dare,” he begins, staring down at you as if you were less than the scum under his feet, “speak to me like this as if you did not steal what does not belong to you in the first place- siren.” You return the fever, glaring back at him, clenching the chair’s cushioning and pushing yourself to meet his face with yours. 

“It was pretty,” you seethe, “and I am not a siren.”

He tuts, clenching your jaw harder between his thumb and forefinger, twisting your neck as though you were the ring you plucked from him in the ocean, “Little surface girls taking things that do not belong to them, claiming they belong to the moon.” 

Mother forgive me, you silently beg, the rage allowing one last particle of energy to surface. You let yourself blow out a soft sigh that you hope, you pray, feels like peppering kisses all over his face and neck. 

Peppering kisses turn into boiling beads of sweat pilling along his temples in mere seconds, your silent will urging his blood to cook beneath you. Boiling blood and a dark, unearthed lust surfacing in the form of a longing gaze and heated skin. His grip molding soft, lips parting. 

“Return tomorrow, and I will answer your questions,” whatever sultry notes left in your voice bellow in his stomach, your eyes hooded, skin glowing as you summon the moonlight to cast against your goose bumped skin. 

Bend to me by the order of the moon, bend to me and go home. 

He longingly looks over your moon-kissed cheeks between his hand, down to your collar bones, the dip of your chest begging to pour out of your small tank top, tracing your navel with his eyes and they linger on the embroidered panties, your throw pillow long gone on the floor once you sat up fully to fight for yourself- for your pizza- tonight. 

But because the way he was returning your devilish look, you might not be hungry for just pizza. 

Bend to my will, sweet king. Let me continue my night, you may question me in the morning. 

And then he has the audacity to reel back and laugh, letting you jerk away at the expense of your own mortification. 

Heaven forbid, it didn’t work. 

Dark red embellishes your cheeks, your nose, your neck and chest. Blotchy. 

Your cooler hands find your cheeks, urging them to quiet, and you curl back into your chair. Looking down at your newly polished toes and back up towards him with pure fury, you couldn’t feel more humiliated. 

The moon did not let you win. 

There is no victory, no satisfaction when you are angry, she murmurs, synchronizing the gods movements as he lifts your chin again. It is gentle, testing. You are met with a curious, cautious, nevertheless impenetrable stare. His eyes travel between your cheeks, watering eyes, your pink, pouty lips. 

“I will return in the morning, when the sun rises.” He promises with a nod, “hopefully you will be as enchanting as you are described in the books with a full stomach and long nights rest.” There is a soft laugh, the god not yet letting go of your face, observing the pink splotches of shame along your neck. “I did not think the definition of moon children would be so literal.” 

You could not manipulate this man, and he is calling you a child. 

You are too angry, too tired, too defeated to rebuttal that you are the goddess, the justice, the love and power of the moon. 

He did not ask for his ring back when he let go of your face, gathered his spear, and took flight from your open balcony window, giving you another short, determined once over. 

A loud groan escapes you as the transparent, pink-hued curtains sway with the wind. 

You want to chuck that ring out of that very window, you decide. 

Before you went to bed, you ate a whole box of stuffed crust pizza.

.

.

.

He kept his promise. 

After failing to have a good night’s rest, tossing and turning, waking with cold sweats and dreams of cascading down a rabbit hole, you understand why your sleep was disrupted in the early morning.

There he sat, across from your bed in another lounge chair seemingly miniature while he shuffles about. He twirls one of your small shell in his hand, and it seems as though he took a good chunk of time out of his night to look through nearly all of your trinkets. 

You sigh and roll over in your bed away from the man in the chair, pulling the duvet over your head. A groan reverberates through the sheets when you shove your face into the surface of the mattress. 

This is not how you imagined your morning after East Hampton. You allow yourself to daydream for a moment, pretending you wake in the sun alone, stretch, cum with one of your previous vibrators, and make an omelet with the mushrooms you got from the market just the other day. Cheese and mushrooms and eggs, maybe a coffee, maybe a chai. 

With a final groan to ground you, you flip the covers and force yourself to sit up. Your braids are tightly wound, the natural lighting from the window causing your hair to glow and your freckles to surface and sparkle. From your tank top, a large tshirt covers you, fabric folding over your stomach and thighs, barely covering your underwear. 

Should you say hi? Should you act like he’s not there and get on with your morning routine? 

You decide the latter, swinging your legs to hang off the of the bed and scoot for your feet to touch the floor. Your arms raise, and you stretch, looking towards the sky as you silently thank the moon for allowing you to see another beautiful morning, letting the gratitude bathe you. 

He simply stares. 

You let him as you wander into the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth. 

There is no way you’ll be less than presentable in front of a god, you whisper to the moon as your examine your small closet. Your eyebrows furrow- you cannot remember a time you contemplated looking presentable for someone else. 

You can hear the moon giggle as you contemplate wearing one of your prettiest dresses that you specifically use for full moon nights. Or the new moon? What kind of energy are you bringing into this conversation? 

Energy, your lips quirk. May he be enamored, for it is not about the dress but jewelry that adorns you. 

You place yourself in lacy garments, a shimmer of silver and a soft green, puffy-sleeved, translucent blouse and lightly washed, high-waisted jeans. Matching, lacy socks and a silver necklace with a curled shell. 

Glamoured rings slide themselves onto your fingers, and you inspect the finery wrapped around your flesh with a grin. Silver and gold bands with crystals wired around them and dipped into moon water and rose oil bound to convey any man to serve you. Hopefully a god, too. 

Gold glitter smears across your eyelid, your cheekbones and a tap on your nose. Clear mascara and brow gel brushes its way on as you glow at yourself in the mirror. 

Wetting your hair and re-curling your golden ringlets with a serum, you place two pearly clips to push aside the front pieces of your hair on each side, framing your face in the most pleasing way. 

Terrifyingly beautiful. 

I am dreamy, I am translucent, I am a child of the moon. 

With a deep breath and another prayer to the moon, you’re gliding out of the bathroom. 

May the moon bless this day. 

“I’m hungry,” you state as your feet patter towards him sitting in the chair, his body did not move an inch, now holding one of your hair clips. You stand in front of him, nearly at eye-level. Perplexed, angry, annoyed, curious, lustful- all the emotions you could sniff out as he gave you a slow, deliberate look over. 

“Would you like to join me for breakfast?” You breathe, refraining from twirling your fingers together. Asking, not taking, was not a talent of yours. It makes you blush, makes you sweat. 

“Tell me how you serve your moon while you eat.” 

You find yourself agreeing with the slightest of smiles. 

@angeli-fucking-cat <3

#namor x reader #namor x you #namor fanfiction #tenoch huerta namor #namor smut #namor imagine #mcu imagine #mcu fandom #marvel universe #marvel headcanons #marvel writing #marvel fanfiction #my wreck this journal #writing #i hope so so much u enjoy #again.. dunno where to go from here! lemme know how you feel #if u got ideas plz send them my way

[khaire-traveler]

🌫️ Subtle Erebos Worship 🌑

Sit in stillness for a while, especially darkness; meditate or become comfortable in the quiet

Take time each day to decompress from the events of the day; relax and rest

Drink herbal tea or a warm drink you enjoy before bed; preferably something soothing

Get a candle that reminds you of him (no altar needed)

Wear jewelry that reminds you of him

Keep a picture of him in your wallet

Start a bedtime/nighttime routine

Try to avoid screens an hour before bed; try reading a book, drawing, or another relaxing and screenless activity

Fall asleep/meditate/study to music reminiscent of emptiness, stillness, or liminality (links included to videos I sleep/listen to c:)

Have a stuffed animal that reminds you of darkness, stillness, or The Void™; nocturnal animals work well (Stygian owl, trust me)

Have imagery of fog, darkness, the night sky, what you believe the creation of the universe looked like, or The Underworld (his name is sometimes conflated with The Underworld itself) around

Dedicate a collection of coins to the souls passing into The Underworld who don't have coins to cross the Stygian

Watch the sunrise; watch the sunset

Learn about the night sky; learn the different constellations and myths they have

Learn about space; learn about cave systems; learn about anything you consider mysterious, expansive, and a bit frightening

Visit/tour a cave (SAFELY!!!!)

Leave water outside for nocturnal animals that stop by; leave out water for a bird bath

Listen to the morning bird songs; listen to the sounds of the night

Press/dry a flower still wet with evening dew

Practice mindfulness; practice meditation

Go camping, and sleep under the stars; take time to be present in nature, in the night

Watch a scary movie in the dark; you're also welcome to watch a comfort movie instead

Collect animal bones (thank the animal's spirit after doing so)

If fog rolls in, go outside in it; take a walk in it (SAFELY!!!)

Plant seeds in the ground; start a garden; tend to plants

Grow your own herbs or produce

Honor your ancestors or passed loved ones; engage in spirit work if comfortable

Visit a cemetery; leave flowers on graves if given permission to do so

Reflect on your deeper beliefs; what do you believe about the different mysteries/uncertainties of life (the afterlife, universe creation, purpose, etc.)

Dance/sing to music that makes you feel ancient, mystical, mysterious, or generally cool

Take a walk during a new moon (if it is safe to do so your area)

Learn about self-defense; be sure to take a weapon with you when going out at night (if you feel it's necessary mostly)

Wear black or darker colors

Take a relaxing bath/shower at night, especially with herbs or in dim light (SAFELY!!!)

Write/read ghost or mystery stories

Light a bonfire; gather around it with loved ones; share scary or mysterious stories

Support space, deep ocean, or deep cave exploration organizations; support nocturnal animal preservation organizations

Learn about the different phases of the moon; learn about what each one means

Practice patience and restraint

Find healthy outlets for extreme emotions; drawing, writing, boxing, dancing, crafting, etc.

Learn to become comfortable within your own presence (this takes practice, it'll be ok)

Sleep with a small bag of soothing herbs under your pillow (lavender, jasmine, etc.) or charms

Keep a dream journal; try to interpret your dreams

-

This is my list of discreet ways to worship Erebos! He is rarely talked about, from what I've seen, but he is the God of Darkness, born from the primordial Khaos at the creation of everything. He is paired with Nyx often, and the two have had several children, including Hypnos and Thanatos. His name was used interchangeably with The Underworld sometimes. I'll likely add more later, but for now, I hope you enjoy what I've made. Take care. ❤️

Link to Subtle Worship Master list

#helpol #hellenic polytheism #hellenic pagan #erebos #erebus #erebus deity #erebos deity #erebus worship #erebos worship #paganblr #pagan tips #deity worship

[samwisethewitch]

Aromatherapy for Processing Trauma

Aromatherapy uses scent, usually in the form of essential oils, for physical and emotional well-being. Our sense of smell is very closely connected to memory, and certain smells can have an effect on our emotions and mood.

Essential Oil Safety and Ethics

Because this is the Internet and because certain multi-level marketing corporations have intentionally spread misinformation about essential oil safety, let's talk about a couple of things real quick.

You should never, ever eat or drink essential oils. These are very concentrated extracts of the active compounds from plants, and just like you would never sit down and eat 200 pounds of lavender, you shouldn't eat lavender oil. Ingesting essential oils can have very serious side effects, up to and including organ failure and death. Just don't.

If you want to work with a liquid plant extract that you can take internally, I recommend trying a tincture or a tea.

Use caution when applying essential oils topically. Again, essential oils are very concentrated, so they can cause skin reactions even if you are not normally allergic to the plant they come from. Always do a patch test to check for an allergic reaction before applying an essential oil to your skin or putting it in a bath. Some, like cinnamon oil, should never be used topically.

Always dilute your oils. Whenever you put essential oils on your skin, mix them with a carrier oil (like olive oil or coconut oil). Typically for adults you want to only use two drops of essential oil for every teaspoon of carrier oil, but you might use a stronger or weaker concentration depending on your body and your needs. If you're adding essential oils to your bath, make sure you mix them into a bath salt (either Epsom salt or plain table salt) before adding them to the water.

When you diffuse essential oils, make sure you don't use too much. For a typical aromatherapy diffuser, you really only need 1-5 drops of oil.

Be careful using essential oils around children and pets. Contrary to what some MLMs say, essential oils may not be safe for your baby or your dog. If you have kids, make sure your oils are stored out of their reach. Don't diffuse essential oils around babies under 6 months old, and don't apply oils to the skin on children under 3 years old. If you use essential oils on your older child's skin, they should be TWICE as diluted as for an adult (so you would use HALF as much essential oil for the same amount of carrier oil). If you diffuse oils around your kids, don't run the diffuser for more than 60 minutes. Follow other essential oil safety rules.

If you have a pet in the house, only diffuse essential oils in open, well-ventilated rooms, never let the diffuser run for more than 60 minutes, and make sure your pet is able to leave the room if they want to. Never apply essential oils to a pet's skin. Research your oils to make sure they aren't toxic to your pets.

Moving from safety concerns to ethics concerns, don't use essential oils in public spaces. Many people don't tolerate these scents well because of health conditions, allergies, or chemical sensitivities. For this reason, you should only practice aromatherapy in your own private space.

Try to be an eco-conscious consumer. It takes a whole lot of plant material to make essential oils -- one pound of lavender oil requires 250 pounds of lavender buds! That's a lot of natural resources. Even "wildcrafted" or "wild harvested" products may still be contributing to overharvesting. Try to limit your environmental impact by using oils sparingly, avoiding oils made from endangered plants, buying from companies that use sustainable harvesting practices, and reusing or recycling the bottles.

Making Aromatherapy Trauma-Sensitive

Because scent is so strongly connected to memory, scents that remind us of a traumatic event can trigger anxiety or panic, or even make us physically ill. Before using aromatherapy, think carefully about the scents you feel drawn to and whether they may be triggering for you.

For example, if your abuser wore a floral perfume with rose and geranium notes, the scents of rose and geranium might activate your fight or flight response, even though those are usually considered calming scents. If your abuser wore a cologne or deodorant with a lot of woodsy notes, you might want to avoid woodsy essential oils like cedarwood.

If at any point you start to feel triggered or activated when using aromatherapy, stop using that scent until you can speak to a therapist or counselor about your experience.

Helpful Essential Oils for Trauma Survivors

Note: Much of the information in this section comes from Elizabeth Guthrie's book, The Trauma-Informed Herbalist.

Lavender (Lavandula angustifolia): The ultimate relaxing scent. Guthrie says that lavender "allows a person to completely relax. It is a wonderful tonic for a person who has been overthinking situations." Lavender is really helpful for anxiety and paranoia, especially if your anxiety takes the form of doom spiraling or thinking about worst case-scenarios.

Cedarwood (Cedrus virginiana): An excellent grounding scent. Guthrie says that cedarwood "is loved for its ability to help people reconnect to themselves." Be aware that Atlas Cedarwood (Cedrus atlantica) is endangered due to overharvesting -- try to use more sustainable varieties.

Rosemary (Rosmarinus officinalis): Great for mental clarity. Rosemary strengthens memory, and it can be useful for people who struggle with short-term memory or who are dealing with brain fog or gaps in memory as a product of trauma. Rosemary promotes alertness.

Clary Sage (Salvia sclarea): Promotes a sense of well-being and helps decrease feelings of stress.

Sweet Marjoram (Origanum majorana): Brings balance to the body and mind. Marjoram has a relaxing effect and can help release tension.

Geranium (Pelargonium graveolens): Another relaxing scent. Guthrie says that geranium "can also help a person who is feeling jumpy, as if they're living in a horror movie and a jump scare is just around the corner."

Chamomile (Anthemis nobilis): Reduces anxiety and relieves feelings of depression. Chamomile also famously helps with sleep issues such as insomnia.

Patchouli (Pogostemon cablin): Very strong grounding. Guthrie recommends patchouli to help reset the sleep-wake cycle for people struggling with insomnia and/or fatigue.

Bergamot (Citrus bergamia): Balances emotional energy and uplifts the mood. Guthrie recommends it for brain fog from exhaustion and for aid in letting go of anger.

Eucalyptus (Eucalyptus globulus): A superstar for healing, whether physical, mental, emotional, or even spiritual. Guthrie recommends eucalyptus "to jumpstart the emotional healing process" and "to release the feeling that their trauma is part of their identity."

Sweet Orange (Citrus sinensis): An uplifting and energizing scent. Great for bringing up the mood, promoting happiness, and helping with burnout.

Aromatherapy on a Budget

Listen, y'all. Essential oils are expensive. Ethically sourced essential oils are even more expensive. I save some money by 1.) using essential oils sparingly, and 2.) buying pre-mixed blends. I'll typically look for a blend that contains several oils that I want to work with instead of buying each oil individually. Right now I'm working with the "Harmony" synergy blend from Eden's Garden, which contains lavender, cedarwood, rosemary, clary sage, sweet marjoram, geranium, and chamomile.

If you can't find a blend that has all the qualities you want, you can still save money by buying a blend with most of the qualities you're looking for, then adding one or two low-cost oils. For example, I wanted a slightly more grounding effect than the blend I'm using has, so I add a little bit of patchouli oil to bring in that earthy, grounding quality.

Sources:

The Trauma-Informed Herbalist by Elizabeth Guthrie

"5 Benefits of Clary Sage Oil" by Corey Whelan

"Marjoram Essential Oil" on AromaWeb

"The 8 Proven Benefits of Chamomile Oil and How to Use It" by Jill Seladi-Schulman, Ph.D.

"Essential Oils & Pets" on Saje

"Are Essential Oils Safe for Kids?" by Teresa Carr

#smell goods do a lot and should not be underestimated #aromatherapy #essential oils #trauma #trauma survivor #trauma processing #trauma informed #the body keeps the score #herbalism #herbs #lavender #cedar #cedarwood #witchblr #witch #witchcraft #green witch #green witchcraft #cottage witch #kitchen witch #kitchen witchcraft #ptsd #complex trauma #complex ptsd #cptsd recovery #abuse tw #my writing #long post #recovery #plant magic

[archiveoftara]

Magic is not real

Hello locknation, I'm back with another series. The reader doesn't possess any talent, has anxiety and isn't fond of the agent life or the industry. Lockwood falls for her first. Hope you like it!!

Warning: mention of anxiety

Part 2

It's chaotic at 35 Portland Row. The agents were occupied preparing for their latest case. Lucy was checking the inventory. George was surrounded by papers, plans, notes and whatnot to gain more knowledge about the visitor they're supposed to encounter. Lockwood was brushing up his rapier skills in the basement.

Lucy plops on the chair beside George and takes a deep sigh. 

"I'm exhausted." said lucy.

"Nice to meet you exhausted, I'm George." George said. 

"Very funny." Lucy glared.

Lockwood entered the room sweating, said "I'm starving, George." 

"Have patience, kids. I've already called Arif's." George said while burying his face inside the books.

The bell rang and Lockwood rushed to the door to get it, only to be hit by the cupid's arrow.

Y/N's POV

The weather is nice in London today. I was at the back, baking some cakes when Arif asked me to deliver an order urgently as we're running short on staff. 

I quickly got changed and left to make the delivery. I looked at the slip to make sure I'm at the right address. I rang the bell and waited patiently. 

The door opened revealing a boy my age (probably), in white shirt and black trousers. Beautiful brown eyes, dishevelled hair, sweat dripping from his forehead. 

"Um.. your delivery, sir." I said while handing him the donuts. 

"Ah yes." He said while taking the package from me. The atmosphere turned awkward. 

"Sir?" 

"Yes?" He whispered. 

"That will be 15 pounds, sir." I said awkwardly, fixing my glasses. 

"Oh yes, sorry. I'm so sorry. Let me fetch my wallet real quick." He disappeared inside the house. 

I bid goodbye and left for my job. Little did I know my life was about to change.

It's been two months since the fellow agent met Arif's new Baker. He's been making his visit to Arif's more often than usual. Y/n couldn't help but notice the sudden change in the atmosphere. At first she paid no mind to it but Lockwood made it a tad bit obvious about his growing affection towards her. For instance, he would personally go to the shop to fetch the donuts, try to make small conversations and get to know her more, would order tea and have it there while waiting for his order. One day y/n had enough and asked Lockwood to meet her after the shift ended. 

"What are you doing Mr. Lockwood?" She asked. 

"Um.. having tea?" He replied.

"I want to make one thing clear to you. Our paths are different. We can't be together, Mr. Lockwood. I would really appreciate it if you just leave me alone and carry on with your life." With that, y/n left the shop. 

Y/n got off late. The streets were empty and she still had a couple of blocks left till she reached home. 

"There's no taxi. I have to reach home quickly." Y/n said while moving her feet faster. 

Couple minutes later she felt a cold breeze. A chill ran down her spine. She hoped it's a cat but she knew it's something else. A visitor. 

Y/n gulped and rummaged through her bag for a lavender or smoke bomb. She didn't wait and ran. She ran as fast as she could. She didn't care where she was going, she's looking for a place to hide. She suddenly stumbled upon a pavement which caused her glasses to fly away from her face. 

"Shit. I'm blind without my glasses." Y/n frantically looked for her glasses but it was too late. The visitor was near her. She froze. 

"Guess I'm gonna be joining you guys soon." She muttered to herself. Suddenly a rapier slashed through the air. 

"Y/n are you alright?" Lockwood asked. 

She was frozen. She was profusely sweating. She couldn't speak.

"The visitor will come again shortly. I can't hold him for too long. We have to leave. Y/n please, hold on." Lockwood picked her up on her feet. Lockwood safely took y/n to her flat.

Y/n invites Lockwood inside her tiny flat. She offered him tea as a token of gratitude. For some reason y/n couldn't meet his eyes. Maybe because of the nerves, maybe she's still shaken up by the previous incident. 

Lockwood cleared his throat and said "it's a nice flat." 

"Thank you. That's all I have." She said while looking around. 

"I'm sorry." Lockwood regrets making the previous statement. 

"No, it's fine. My parents, they were agents just like you, Mr. Lockwood. After their talent faded they started a small business. Everything was good till that night. They got ghost touched...You know how life in London is expensive, so I had to sell our shop. The rest is history." Y/n opened up her heart. 

Lockwood didn't know what to say.

"That's why I stay away from agents. Mr. Lockwood. I'm not the ideal person for you. You deserve someone... someone who's brave.. like you." Y/n said. 

"You think I'm brave?" Locked gave her his iconic smile. 

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. 

"Ms. Y/l/n, I can understand what you're going through. I respect your decision but please, i request you to respect mine too." Lockwood said looking deep into her eyes. 

"Have you seen fireflies Mr. Lockwood?" Y/n asked. 

Lockwood raised his eyebrows. "Yes?" 

"When we see fireflies, we think it's magic but when we hold it in our palms; we realise there's nothing magical here. Magic is not real." Y/n tried to explain him. 

After a moment of silence, Lockwood said something which froze y/n. 

"I don't want to hold the firefly. I want to live in its light. I want to feel its warmth because it makes me feel alive." 

"Please, y/n. I've lost everything just like you but I can't afford to lose anymore. I want to be your friend. That's all I ask of you. Give me one chance." Lockwood pleaded. 

One chance? Every human deserves at least one chance right? 

Y/n couldn't help but ponder about the thought. 

"You can take as much time as you need. I'm always here for you, waiting." Lockwood left her flat leaving a conflicted y/n. 

​​​​​

​​​​​​

#lockwood x you #lockwood and co #fandom #anthony lockwood #fanfic #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood x reader #save lockwood and co #locknation #anthony bloody lockwood

[elminsters]

oc meme

Tagged by: @korcariiwitch! thank you!!

name: Eurydice Teurimil (yr·i·duh·see too·rih·mil)

nickname(s): Eury (by Wyll and Karlach), beefy (by Shovel)

pronouns: she/her

star sign: idk how to answer this because Faerun doesn't have star signs and i know nothing about astrology lmao

height: 164cm

orientation: bisexual

race: high elf (moon elf, but with wood elf ancestry, hence the hair)

romancing: Astarion

fave fruit: Pomegranate

fave season: Autumn

fave flower: henbane or poppies for utility purposes, lilac and lavender for prettiness and scent

fave scent: black tea, fresh tobacco leaves, cinnamon, and cut wood

coffee, tea, or hot chocolate: tea 100000%

average sleep hours: 4 hour elf trance from around midnight until 4am during the game, and during the early morning post-game (usually immediately preceded by Astarion biting her so whenever he does that +4 hours)

dogs or cats: cats

dream trip: she'd love to go back to the Dalelands one day when it's safe for her to do so!

amount of blankets: a lot (she and Astarion are both blanket hogs)

random fact(s):

Her surname means "bound to the moon" or "promised to the moon"; she made it up on the spot and didn't put thought into it, something we don't have in common because I put a lot of thought into it. The moon is highly associated with the colour silver in elven society (Teu-tel-quessir is the elven word for moon elves, also commonly referred to as silver elves). The pool of radiance that gave her her magic was a circular silver pool resembling the moon, and she is inescapably bound to it. The suffix -imil means both bound and promised to, which doubles as a nod to her eventual relationship with Astarion, the moon referring to both Astarion himself and the literal moon, under which she will spend a lot of time as they live their lives together.

Tagging: @euryalex @alexios @dameayliins @dameaylin @yrlietlanaevyss @haarleps @autismgremlin @masckarlach @yharnams @vspin @voloslobotomyservice @neonbutchery @grandmother-goblin

No pressure and sorry if you've already done this/been tagged already!! Also don't feel like you have to use your bg3 oc, I'd love to hear about any oc you want to talk about!

#this made me realize i actually do not have many pictures of her by herself hence the one i used is her looking nervous as hell #eurydice teurimil #tag game

[real-jane]

best kept

[bucky barnes x baker!reader]

This is for Birdie's Birthday Bash Writing Challenge!! Happy happy birthday, @buckysbirdie ❤️❤️❤️. This was such a fun way to pull myself back into the creative roll! You're a gem and you deserve to have a beautiful birthday fest.

For my prompts, I chose:🍦 Waffle Cone: Bucky Barnes |🧁 Birthday Cake: Baker | 🍭 “You deserve pretty things.” | 🍑 Secretly dating | 🍓 Mutual pining

warnings: idiots in love, miscommunication, fluff, mention of sex. no body descriptions, no use of y/n.

--

She didn’t mean it the way it came out–you deserve pretty things–like a plea. She intended for the sentiment to land like an observation, based on their few-and-far-between conversations across the register, like the brew of the day is Breakfast Blend or it’s supposed to rain around three o’clock.

But damn him… he flushed. He didn’t smile, quite, but his eyes flicked away and he cleared the embarrassment from his throat, handing over a bill too large for the small black coffee and the intricately frosted cupcake which had nearly given up the whole gambit to his companions, who hung at his elbow with an urgency which could only come from a post-mission adrenaline rush. 

He was expressly forbidden from dating anyone inside the compound. He had made that abundantly clear as he fished the buttons of her baking uniform through the holes in the storage closet the day that pull between them became too much to bear. He had still kissed her like he had all the time in the world, and every moment they squirreled away thereafter was precious, but the longer they had to hide in the shadows… the harder it became to keep her tongue from whetting his plush lips where anyone could see. Especially when he picked out a cupcake he knew she had agonized over that morning, thanks to the hastily sent photo he received from the kitchen in the wee hours.

The way lavender buttercream would taste in a forbidden kiss… she ached for it. 

He did deserve pretty things. He deserved much more than that, too. But he wouldn’t let her say it. She tried, with her legs tangled in his, to tell him sincerely what he meant to her, how lucky she felt that he would even look her way–but he had shut her down with suffocating kisses and stole all coherent thought. He went another day without knowing she loved him, without her trying to make him listen to her say it.

Maybe that’s why the comment burst out. When she couldn’t say I love you, what could she say? You deserve pretty things, like the cupcake I created because all this love has no place to go, because chamomile is your favorite tea, because it’s one part of you that belongs only to me.

Bucky motioned for her to keep the generous change from his bill, and hastened to the far end of the caf to admire her work from a safe distance. She watched him walk away for only a split second, before turning her attention back to the red-headed woman with a cold brew addiction.

Just wait, his text said. The message had pinged from her back pocket while she ascertained whether or not Captain America wanted a savory scone, so she didn’t see it until he and his cohort departed from the caf. 

Clutching her phone over the stove long after the other staff headed home, she stared at the two little words from ‘Jamie.’ No punctuation to hang a hope on, ever. He wasn’t one for soft sentiments. Bucky Barnes touched her with urgency, but he didn’t speak her name with the reverence of a lover. He barely spoke at all, except to coax pleasure from her. She was starting to feel less like a choice, and more akin to a tool he used to blow off steam. It clawed at her heart, making her skin crawl with longing for just one fraction of the effort she was devoting… to a man who had never hidden that he wasn’t supposed to be fucking her. 

She couldn’t take much more of such an empty arrangement. How could someone so enmeshed with her bones leave her so devoid of affection, even in the slightest? How could she love someone who stumbled away from a tryst like he’d been stung?

He never showed up before the night shift cleaners did their rounds, but he always showed. 

Wait, she did. She jumped when cold vibranium fingers wrapped around her elbow, swiping furiously at her reddened eyes. 

“Christ,” she breathed. “You’re a fucking phantom.” She hazarded a glance at him, but his expression was hardened and unreadable. He was frozen at the sight of her persistent tears. She rolled her eyes and eased her arm out of his grip, putting the island between them. Despite the way every hair on her body stood on end in his presence, it was no use hiding the way his silence inspired more tears. She let them streak down her cheeks. When still he said nothing, anger stirred behind her ribs.

“How was your cupcake?” she whispered.

“Um. Good.” Bucky leaned against the counter and folded his arms. The wrinkle between his eyebrows deepened. “Chamomile?”

She nodded. “Your favorite. I, um. I sifted loose leaf tea in with the flour, I wasn’t sure how it would go.”

“It was good.” 

“Good.” She gripped the butcher block countertop so hard, her fingers ached. 

Bucky let an agonizing minute pass. “You’re crying,” he muttered. “Why?”

She snorted. “Tim’s wearing his big headphones while he does the floors tonight, if you want to risk it out here–if you can stand to fuck a woman while she’s sad.”

He was intelligent, she knew it. It hadn’t taken long to see how his mind whirred to strategize around every possible obstacle to the opportunity to take her in a dark corner, and she couldn’t dismiss the way his compatriots spoke about his work on assignment, even if she only overheard snippets of their conversations in the caf. It came as no surprise, then, when he scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed. 

“You wanna be alone. I’ll get out of your hair,” he said tersely.

“No–god.” She laughed, but it stabbed. “I want you. Here. I thought I had made that abundantly clear by sticking my hand down your pants at every opportunity.”

He blinked. “You’re angry.”

“Yeah. Yes, I am. I’m–I don’t know how to say this,” she struggled. “We’re better at the not-talking part of this arrangement. But if I don’t get it out, I’m going to pop!”

Bucky, to his credit, made no move to leave, though every muscle in his body seemed to tense up with the need to flee. Instead, he braced his hands against the counter behind him and nodded for her to say whatever was on her mind. It was then that she noticed that his hair was damp; he never came to her smelling of motor oil, or blood, or sweat, or any hint of whatever duty had demanded of him during the day. It made her want to sob. He came to her clean.

She studied the way his jaw flexed anxiously, and it gave her enough comfort–knowing he was uncomfortable–to make some sort of explanation come out. 

“I’m selfish,” she started. “I thought that I could just be content sneaking around, because I’ve been clinging to every bit of affection I can get from you. It was fine for a while. More than fine, Jamie–god, I’m addicted,” she said sheepishly. “But it’s not fun anymore, it’s like I need a fix of you, or I can’t function. I hate that I can’t kiss you where people can see. I hate that you don’t say anything to make me think you want me half as much as I want you. I invented a fucking cupcake based on your kiss after a cup of tea. I–fuck.” She looked up at the ceiling to hold back a new wave of emotion.

“You never promised me anything, so I have no right demanding more from you,” she said. “So. I don’t think I can continue with my part of this arrangement, given that–well, considering that you can’t even show interest in a person without creating a coup with Human Resources–”

“Hang on,” he said softly. “What do you mean a coup?”

“You’ll get in trouble. Especially for sleeping with the cupcake woman–”

“I’m not following,” he said. Then, it dawned on him. “Doll…” Bucky chuckled. From the depths of his chest, a warm and wooly sound that brought heat to her cheeks. He smiled even as he swiped a thumb across his bottom lip.

“I see what this is,” Bucky said. His blue eyes flicked up to meet her gaze and her stomach flipped. Gone was the frown from his expression, and instead, a strange and unfamiliar lightness took its place. “You should’ve told me.”

“What?” she breathed.

Bucky pushed off the counter and walked around the island slowly, until he caged her back against the wood. The scent of his soap–sandalwood and cedar–filled her nostrils. He tipped her chin up. 

“You seem to be under the impression that I come here to get my rocks off, and not because I have a sweet tooth. And I’m kickin’ myself for not seeing it sooner. God help me, doll: when I’m around you, I lose all rational thought.”

She wound her fingers into the front of his sweatshirt, a soft and well-worn thing with a faded SHIELD logo over the left pec. “Pardon my French, but those are the most words in a row I’ve heard out of your fucking mouth, maybe ever.”

“‘M a shy guy,” he said. 

“I have tried to talk to you about this for months–”

Bucky winced. “Shit.”

“Yeah! You shut me up every time! Hey–stop staring at my mouth.”

He raised an eyebrow as if to say well, go ahead. For good measure, he sat on the stool at the lip of the counter, and bracketed her between his knees. She sighed.

“I don’t know how long this can continue if it can never be more than a secret,” she admitted.

Bucky cleared his throat.“...Are you under the impression that SHIELD has a stake in my personal relationships?” 

She blinked. “You said it did.”

“When?”

“Um. The first time. In the pantry.” 

He frowned again and looked at the pantry door like it might project the exact conversation they had, amidst a feverish tryst. “I don’t think I did,” he said.

“‘They’ll grill me and everyone in the compound will know–’ You were pretty clear that nobody could know about us. You kept saying it. ‘They can’t know. They can’t know.’”

“I’m not sure I was thinking about anything but putting my head between your legs,” he said frankly, which made her shiver. “Nick Fury doesn’t care about interpersonal relationships as long as they don’t interfere with our work. The guys, however, already give me shit for how often I miss my mouth with coffee because I’m watching the cupcake woman and her damned smile. I was probably talking about them. But I don’t remember, and I’m sorry you’ve been losing sleep over it.”

“I haven’t been losing sleep,” she said bashfully, though her lip slipping into her mouth revealed what a lie that was. 

“Don’t you see how messed up I am over you?” The question came out of his mouth like a blessing. She stared at him in astonishment, which made the tips of his ears turn pink. “I may be bad at sayin’ it, doll, but I’m acting up like a lovesick man.” Bucky tucked his fingers into the back pockets of her jeans to pull her closer. “You’ve been hurting. Haven’t you?” When she nodded, his face fell. He huffed. “That won’t do.”

“Tell me,” she asked. “Please, Jamie.”

“You really been thinkin’ about something I said in the heat of the moment… shit, a year ago?”

“Words are precious, where you’re concerned.”

Bucky looked up at her like the sentiment struck a raw nerve. He shook his head. “I’ll be better.”

“You’ve already tripled your usual output,” she teased, letting her hands slide to his jaw. “It’s no wonder you’re good at keeping secrets.”

“What would people say if they knew?”

“Stop. You’re trying to save me from compound gossip?”

He studied her well-loved shoes and the flour which adorned the toes like a deliberate style choice. “Am I a coward?”

“Yeah,” she said, but she brushed his cheek. “For the sake of clarity… SHIELD doesn’t care, but your friends will tease you, and people might gossip, so that’s why you’ve never actually taken me to your room, and why we’ve been sneaking around for the better part of a year?”

Bucky cringed. “In my defense, I thought you got off on it.”

“I did–I do. But I spend about thirteen hours a day on my feet in this damn kitchen. It would be nice to have sex horizontal for once, and not bent over the sink I wash dishes in! Maybe even laying down on a mattress, as crazy as that sounds.” 

“You wild woman, you.” He laced his fingers behind her knees. “I’m sorry. All this because I’m afraid of people thinkin’--it doesn’t matter, right?”

“Oh, you’re just now realizing that?” She swatted him on the shoulder. “We should’ve had this conversation eleven months ago!”

He didn’t say anything for a while, but he leaned into her fingers where they dug at the knot in his shoulder while he pondered where they had gone wrong. He gripped her wrist so he could entwine their fingers and study the raised veins on the back of her hand with a curious thumb. 

“I always buy whatever pastry you made special for the day,” Bucky said, as if it was a revelation he was making at that exact moment. “I tip you like Rockafeller. I can’t stand the thought of stinking in your presence, so some days I shower twice. I scan the personnel report every morning to make sure you’re on the premises. I check my phone seven hundred times an hour on the off chance you text me. I dream about you. I wake up smelling your perfume. I’m–I’m your damned satellite, woman.”

“Then why are you so worried about people knowing?” she asked it, but she gleaned the answer the moment it left her lips and she pressed her fingers to his to stop him from saying it. His lips pursed behind her hand. She shook her head. “No. You’ll break my heart.”

Bucky waited until she removed her hand before attempting to say a thing. “You don’t know what I’ve done, doll–”

“I’m sorry–you think I didn’t google you within an inch of your life, old man?”

He smiled, despite himself. “My mistake.”

“Please. I would be so proud if people knew”

“Of me?” he asked, incredulous. “Why?”

She leaned in and took the softest drag from his lips, eliciting something like a gasp of amazement from the man. “Doesn’t make a lick of sense, does it?” she murmured against his mouth.

Bucky growled. “If I could have you, I would shout it from the rooftops.”

“You like me.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” He stood, looming over her hungrily. “Could I, doll?”

She would have descended into tears again if her heart wasn’t bursting with happiness. “I would love that, Jamie.”

His eyes sparkle. “People will talk.”

“Good.”

“I’ll… I’ll kiss you over the counter!” He gestured to the very counter which separated them daily. “Other people will see me do it.”

She snickered. “I hope they do.”

“Sam will tell you about every time I’ve made a fool of myself watchin’ you–”

“I can’t wait.”

“You’re not ever gonna question me again, because I’m gonna just come right out and say things. All the time.” For the first time in her memory, Bucky fully smiled. Beamed, even. His eyes were lively with excitement and he reached for her hand. He laced their fingers once more. 

“I’m going to walk outta here right now, holding your hand.” He backed slowly towards the door of the kitchen, tugging her with him. “Because I want to.”

“Okay,” she laughed. He was giddy, almost, at the prospect of getting to tell anyone who would listen that he was with her. Being seen together was a dream he didn’t know was within reach. It made her heart clench. 

“Wait–” She held up a finger and released him so she could dash back into the pantry. When she emerged from the kitchen with the little pastry box in hand, Bucky raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

“Saved a cupcake for my personal pity party,” she said. “I blew through three dozen of these before noon.”

“Hmm… my cupcake is a best-seller, huh?” Bucky tucked her fingers in the crook of his elbow so he could draw her closer.

“Um. Every pastry I make is yours.” When he couldn’t speak in shock, she nodded. “You’re sort of my muse.”

“You’re jokin’.”

“God, it’s embarrassing–”

“No, no, no! It’s the sweetest thing I ever heard, doll, I promise you.” Bucky stopped in the vestibule where the hallway forked west to the parking garage (where her car was parked), and east to the residential wing of the compound. 

“Well.” She shrugged. “I take how you’re making me feel, and I say it in flour and sugar. Everything I couldn’t tell you got baked into pastry. They all have names, too, but I’m not quite ready to mortify myself by admitting some of them.”

He cupped her cheek. “What’d you call it today?”

“Don’t laugh.”

“I won’t. Scout’s honor.”

“‘Jamie’s Best Kept Tea-cake.’” She braced herself for him to cringe, but he didn't.

Bucky looked up at the ceiling and shook his head. “I am an idiot. Never let me forget it.” He turned on his heel and hastened down the east hall. She had to practically skip to keep up. 

“Do you hate it?” she panted.

“What–no!” He punched the up arrow to summon the elevator. “I love it.”

“I love you.” The sentiment flew from her tongue like it had been waiting for that very moment to spread its wings.

The elevator dinged to punctuate her admission, effectively squashing an otherwise perfect moment… made awkward by Sam Wilson on his way back from the gym, standing in the elevator and grinning. Bucky glanced between Sam and the woman who just admitted to loving him, and pulled her into the car.

“Sam,” Bucky acknowledged. “You remember–”

“The way you poured dark roast in your lap when she laughed? Sure do. Hi. How are you?”

“She loves me,” Bucky said. She nudged his ribcage. “What? You do. I’m in love with her, also.”

“I’ve gleaned that prior to now,” Sam said smugly.

Her cheeks were hot, but she leaned into Bucky’s side in disbelief. “Hi Sam. I’m embarrassed.”

“Don’t be. While we’re all sharing our feelings, he’s one of the best people I know, so. As far as I’m concerned, this is a fantastic development. Which I’m suspecting isn’t a new one.” Sam smirked as Bucky scratched his head guiltily. 

“Wow. Thanks, man.”

“Whatcha got there?” Sam pointed at the little box in her hand.

“That’s ‘Jamie’s Best Kept Tea-cake,’” Bucky explained proudly. 

She squeezed his elbow. “It’s chamomile with lavender buttercream.”

“Oh shit, the magic cupcake! He force-fed us all a bite at lunch. Five stars.”

“Thanks.” She shared a smile with Sam. The elevator arrived on Bucky’s desired floor. Sam said little else, but offered a sly salute to the retreating form of his giddy best friend and the woman he couldn’t stop talking about.

At Bucky’s door, he paused. “I didn’t–is this okay? Do you want to come in? You can use my on-suite shower. Water pressure is amazing. I have a very comfortable bed–”

She pressed up on her toes and kissed him quiet. “You love me,” she murmured, “so I’d like to go in.”

“I’m making a fool of myself right now, aren’t I,” he breathed.

“Nah. You’re just… chatty.”

“I don’t think I can stop.”

“It’s okay. 'S pretty cute.”

He smiled dreamily. “Cute is good. I can work with that.” He let them into the room, but the moment the door shut behind her, he tensed up again. “Um. This is it. I don’t have much.”

“Jamie,” she soothed. “I’m so happy to be here, but I’m exhausted. I’ll take you up on that shower, and we can talk more in the morning. Yeah?”

“Oh–of course, doll, there’s towels…” He babbled on, but she temporarily ignored him in favor of unwrapping the little box on his desk. She grabbed him mid-sentence by the front of the sweatshirt. Something had to be done to dissipate his adrenaline, which was hammering away full-throttle to force every little thought which crossed his brain to traverse his tongue, too.

“C’mere.” She held up the small cupcake and offered him the first bite. His lips grazed her thumb and forefinger, but her own chased them to capture the sugar of a kiss. He groaned into the flowery sweetness. She giggled when he dipped the tip of his finger into the frosting, only to drag it over her cupid’s bow. Warmth pooled between her thighs as he licked the purple sugar from her skin.

“Shit,” he breathed. “I’m. I–doll.”

She laughed. “That, James Barnes, is what you taste like after a cup of tea.”

“If I wasn’t already… I am, now.” He peered at her through half-lidded eyes, drunk on sugar and arousal.

“What?”

“In love.”

He said nothing else. Every sentiment which she inspired in him paled in comparison to the feeling of her. The alphabet of her body was language enough to describe the utter terror of exposing every chamber of his heart, and still come up short for the measure of awe. And as for her… 

She had kept him locked away in a neighboring vein for so long, that letting the flow of Bucky Barnes through her senses overwhelmed her with the knowledge that yes, she loved him… and yet loved him more as he exposed his vulnerabilities–like his 3-in-1 shower gel, and his pleasant striped pajama pants with frayed cuffs. He would be best kept at her side, of that much she was sure. Not a dirty secret in the pantry, but softly snoring against her shoulder, with no question of whether or not he wanted her, and an abundance of pretty things… many of which came frosted.

--

Thanks for reading! :)

my masterlist - my bucky barnes masterlist

bucky tag list: @peterhollandkait @nahthanks @honeywithemoney @dracris33

#birdiesicecreamshop #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fluff

[sweetestpieces]

Pairing: Giantess!Rhaenyra x Fem!Reader

Tags/Warnings: Giantess, Size Difference, brewing romance, fluff(?), idk, first time writing fic, major changes to canon, slow

Length: 1.1k

Summary: You struggle for the princess's attention with little success. (Part 2 of ???)

GIF credit: 1: Unknown. 2: zen-coleman

You can find Part 1 here.

While highborn men often vexed you whenever they attempted to woo the princess, none of them irked you nearly as much as Lady Alicent Hightower. Alicent had been at court far longer than you’d been maid to Rhaenyra and her father Otto being lord hand to the king meant Alicent was practically a princess in her own right. Her dresses were elegant, her manners ladylike and proper, and she had the one thing that bothered you the most, a true friendship with the princess.

Even on your first day of service, it was clear the two girls were close. From sunrise to sundown if Rhaenyra had no obligations during the day, it was safe to assume she was somewhere with Alicent roaming the castle. Most often you’d find them in the godswood chatting and giggling together or reading from the great books kept in the keep’s library.

One morning Rhaenyra requested you to bring tea to the godswood. You found both highborn girls beneath the white tree, Alicent sitting with her back to the trunk, a large book in her lap. Rhaenyra rested on the ground, her head also in Alicent’s lap looking up at her as they spoke about some lord or other. You felt your skin go slightly hotter and paused in the archway to appear unbothered as you approached them. “You’re so kind,” Rhaenyra said as she sat up. You stood there as both girls took the cups from the tray. Not sure if you should stay or go, you politely stood off to the side silently hoping the princess might ask you to stay. “Thank you, Y/N. You may go.” Your heart sunk. Surely the princess didn’t mean anything by it. You knew you were finding a bad habit of thinking that you were anything more to the princess than a servant. Sure she might have occasionally sought you out for advice or told you something in confidence, but is that not a responsibility of handmaids? To listen?

Your thoughts kept returning to that day she cried to you and really opened up. The way she held you close and spoke about her father and his stubbornness. She spoke about how she wasn’t ready to marry and how she was feeling immense pressure to do so quickly. Strangely you recall the feeling and sweet lavender smell of her hair as she tucked her head under your chin. You remember how it felt to be held, warm, safe. It was something you wanted to feel again. So, you knew you needed to get her attention.

You started bringing her snacks and drinks unasked. She seemed surprised whenever you’d enter her chambers carrying a dish full of grapes or figs. “Oh, you’re so kind, Y/N.” You’d wait beside her hoping for more interaction, for her to speak to you unprompted. But she’d always resume whatever she was doing when you came in, and you’d leave disappointed once again.

It felt like her opening up to you was an accident, an abnormality in either of your lives. Maybe it was only because you were there and not who you were to the princess. If Alicent had been there instead of you, Rhaenyra likely would have acted the same, maybe even more emotionally. You weren’t a safe space for her, just a convenient one.

She made you feel even more invisible when you passed her in the hallways. The corridors of the Red Keep were of decent size, wide enough for three soldiers to walk abreast with little issue. Walking with the princess down them was another situation, however. You were taking silverware from the king’s quarters back to the kitchen when you heard the princess’s voice echoing down the hall. Her Grace and Ser Criston Cole walked together, the princess towering over the gallant knight, laughing at something he’d said. The two of them walking together left no room for anyone to pass by. She must not have seen you approaching and just as you were about to curtsy to her, the bottom half of her dress practically swallowed you whole. You were pushed against the stone wall trying to keep hold of all the plates and knives while silk pushed against your face, blinding you, practically suffocating you.

Soon it was over without even a glance from the princess. You hoped she simply hadn’t noticed you and that she wasn’t intentionally ignoring you, but you didn’t have the bravery to ask and returned to the task at hand.

On the morning of Lady Alicent’s name day, the king proposed a small gathering of the court for dinner and festivities. It was an extravagant yet modest affair with no reservations about the finest dishes and entertainment but to a crowd of no more than twenty. You, among other servants of the royal house, were on duty throughout the day by tending to any needs of the party guests.

The princess and Lady Alicent were practically attached at the hip, as was usual. Only once did the princess break away from the event, after Alicent announced her engagement to a highborn lord from the west. You watched her excuse herself from the dais and go out one of the servants' doors. You don’t know what compelled you but you took your tray with you and followed the way she went. You watched her pass through the kitchen keeping her head low as she made her way through the smaller corridors.

An idea came to you. You stopped to clear your tray in the kitchen and found one of the princess’s large goblets, nearly twice the size of a regular one, organized on a shelf. You filled it with Arbor red, set it on the tray, and went looking for her.

She was where you expected her to be, standing beneath the godswood and gazing past one of the arches towards the city. She didn’t hear you approach so you carefully said, “My lady.”

She turned to you. “Oh, Y/N. What are you doing here?”

Your heart was already racing in your chest just speaking to her. You opened your mouth to speak, once again stricken into near-paralysis from being so close to someone of her size. “I-I thought you might be thirsty.” It was the best excuse you could come up with on the spot.

The princess considered you carefully and took the cup. It looked normal-sized in her hand. She briefly peered into it and said, “I like you, Y/N.” She drank from the cup and turned her attention back to the city. “Thank you for the wine.”

You hesitated to leave, lingering just a little longer in hopes she might continue speaking to you, but she didn’t. You clutched the tray tight and walked back into the keep somehow feeling happier and sadder than when you arrived.

#rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra x y/n #giantess #size #size fic #giantess fic #g/t #g/t fluff #g/t writing #fanfic #romance #fluff #hotd fic #g/t fiction

[leoslosttoolbelt]

Valdangelo Coffee Shop AU

Nico pushes the door to the cafe open, body relaxing because of the sudden warmth. 

The cafe is mostly empty - which is exactly why Nico comes here every Wednesday at 8pm, almost no seats are taken and he can study in silence for 2 hours. There’s Hazel doing something behind the bar but Nico can’t see any of the other workers - another plus in his open. 

He sits at his usual corner table, the one with the best view, before he goes up to the bar to order. 

“Hey,” He greets his cousin easily. “Can I have a mocha - with extra chocolate?” 

Hazel frowns at his request, “You won’t be able to sleep if you have coffee this late. I’ll make you a cup of Lavender tea.” 

Nico grumbles but fishes out some money to pay anyway. The only downside of coming to a cafe that his cousin worked at was that didn’t exactly care about customer satisfaction, not when she made Nico try whatever she wanted him to drink instead of his order. 

A small price to pay for a quiet study spot. 

He opens his laptop and gets comfortable in his seat when somebody - who is evidently not Hazel - places a cup of tea in front of him. 

Leo. 

Another reason why he comes to the cafe at this time. 

Leo’s almost always working the closing shift and Nico uses his study breaks to argue with the boy about any topic under the sun or to silently watch him work, sweeping the floors or making drinks for the lone customer. 

He was secretly hoping that Leo would be sick or something today - he really needs to get this assignment completed as soon as possible and he can’t really work with Leo being - well with Leo being Leo. 

He moves like a flame, drawing everyone’s attention no matter what he’s doing. His movements are always so fluid and relaxed, something about him makes someone as anxious as Nico feel relaxed. 

Nico swears he’s magic with the machines in the shop. He knows exactly how to get the best espresso pull from the old coffee machine and the milk is always just perfect when he’s the one in charge of the steamer. Even Hazel has talked about how Leo can fix their oven in a matter of minutes - it’s like everything in the shop just calls for him. 

But the real reason why Nico thinks that Leo shouldn’t be here is because above all else he’s distracting. He’s always in Nico’s business - asking him about his day and making jokes that make Nico lose his page when he’s reading. One day Leo spoke to Nico for a full half hour - and Nico couldn’t focus for a full day afterwards - his mind replaying all of Leo’s words like some kind of broken record. 

So really, he couldn’t afford to have Leo around tonight. 

“Hazel’s gone home.” He grins down at Nico, showing off his dimples and impish smile. “I’ll be closing up today.” 

Nico hums, he hopes Leo can’t see the red on his ears. “I mean, there’s two hours till you close.” 

“Yep - but you’re our only customer.” 

Nico looks around the cafe, Leo’s right. He’s the only one inside - now that he thinks about it, he’s usually the only one inside. 

It comes out before he has the chance to stop himself. “Y’all will go out of business at this rate - I can’t be your only customer for so long.” 

Leo rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t respond with a snarky comment today. He looks to the ground - cheeks flushed, is he embarrassed? 

Nico suddenly feels guilty about his comment, he really doesn’t know how well the cafe actually is but he really hopes they won’t have to close down soon - it’s Nico’s safe space as much as he hates to admit it. 

“An empty cafe just means I get to spend time with my favourite customer.” The barista teases, never one to let Nico have the last word. 

Nico groans. He really has to finish this assignment. 

“I’ll give you five dollars if you leave me alone,” he reaches for a wallet and hands Leo the money - who doesn’t even argue before pocketing the bill and disappearing with a wink. 

Nico gets 20 minutes of work done before Leo reappears again. 

This time he has a cup of coffee in one hand and a pastry in the other. 

He wordlessly places them on the table and wordlessly picks up the untouched cup of Lavender tea. 

“What’s this?” Nico asks. 

Leo shrugs. “On the house - made you a mocha since you hate tea.” 

There’s a beat of silence. “Don’t even know why you ordered tea if you barely touched it. Some old lady wouldv’e loved this, yknow?” 

Nico’s too flustered to tell Leo that Hazel made that tea for him. 

Leo knows his favourite coffee.

Leo also knows that he hates tea. 

Leo also willingly made him food after Nico shooed him away. 

He should really thank him. 

Nico looks up at the boy, blinking like an idiot. 

“I gave you five dollars to leave me alone, didn’t I?” 

Leo shrugs. Nico wants to crawl up in a hole and die. 

“5 dollars gets you twenty minutes of silence - besides, I used it to make you coffee so it doesn’t count anymore.” 

“So,” Nico quirks his head. “It wasn’t on the house.” 

 “Well that depends…” Leo says, Nico can practically feel his smirk forming. “What does that phrase even mean? Everything is on the house if you really think about it.” 

“What does that even mean?” Nico starts to ask but Leo’s gone once again, disappearing just as fast as he came here. 

Huh. 

Leo only comes back once after that, to take away his empty cups and plates. Nico’s a little disappointed that he didn’t stay and talk but it’s for the better - he really needs to work on his paper.

He works for another forty five minutes before deciding that’s enough for the day. 

Quickly, he packs up and walks to the coffee bar, hopefully Leo isn’t doing anything too important right now. 

And there he is, sitting behind the bar and playing SubWay surfers. 

“Didn’t know you were allowed to have your phone out on the clock.” He greets, Leo meets his eyes with his usual dimpled grin - effectively killing the little character on his screen. 

“Depends on what you mean by ‘On the clock,” He says, motioning around them. 

Nico looks around the cafe - Leo’s words falling into place as he takes in the cafe for the 10th time this week probably. 

It’s empty. 

Spotless. 

The clock only reads 9:30 pm which would mean that there’s half an hour till closing time - but all the tables have chairs stacked up on top of them and all the machines are basically spotless. The floors have already been sweeped and all the cups are nicely stacked in the cupboards - and that’s when Nico sees it, the shops ‘Open’ sign is facing the inside. 

They’re closed. 

He pieces everything together. Why the cafe is always so empty when Nico arrives, why Hazel is almost always just on her way out and Leo’s the only worker left. Why Leo cleans up while Nico’s still inside the cafe and why he’s usually fooling around or doing homework instead of his actual job. 

“The cafe is closed.” 

Leo smiles, slinging his already packed bag over his shoulders. “Cafes don’t really stay open till 10 pm y’know?” 

“Then why…” Nico trails off, eyes trained on Leo. 

The boy in front of him shrugs, once again avoiding Nico’s gaze like he’s embarrassed. “We usually close at 8, but Hazel said you like studying when it’s quiet and I don’t really mind.” 

“I usually just clean up and finish up my own work while you study - so really it’s not really that big of a deal, and I asked my boss Reyna about it and she said to do whatever as long as I get the shop closed so-” Leo starts to ramble, looking more flustered by the second. 

“Hey!” Nico interrupts, for the first time this month he thinks that maybe he thinks about him in the same way Nico thinks about him. Or maybe he’s secretly insane and has no friends. Either way - no one’s gone out of their way to do something like this for him before. 

“Maybe you can close up for real this time and then tell me about why you keep open so late after that.” 

Leo blinks at him. Then he smiles again, this time he’s shy. “Are you asking me to walk you home?” 

Nico shrugs. “Only if you give me 5 dollars.” 

That makes Leo bark out a laugh, “We can go outside - I’ve got the keys and my bag already.” 

Nico hums, following Leo and watching as he closes the shop for the night - despite it being so late his body was buzzing with excitement. He’s not quite sure if it’s from the coffee or Leo - maybe both. 

And then Leo turns around from the door with a toothy grin and - yeah Nico’s realised why he’s feeling jittery now. 

#pjo hoo toa #leo valdez #nico di angelo #valdangelo

[gay-dorito-dust]

Pls do a wanda x reader where instead of her falling for vision, it was r and Westview and all was with r then at the end of MoM, America instead of portalling to the universe with the other wanda and the kids, she portals to a universe where r and wanda we're together but wanda died, so when wanda walks though the portal and r sees wanda, they're kinda reunited ig? Sorry if this was long or complicated lmao I just love this woman sm

I’m on it!!! I will do this justice cuz MoM has only made me love Wanda even more.

A/n: these two songs inspired me for this fic and I will not elaborate on how they do but they just do.

Wanda wanted you back. She wanted you back so badly she created the Westview hex for you! Her magic temporarily gave you back to her. She was finally at peace with herself when she got to awoke to your slumbering face besides hers within the confines of your shared bed; Your warmth comforted Wanda even in her most sleepless of nights and she could never forget the taste of the spiced lavender tea you’d always have before bed upon your tongue nor the sweet popcorn upon your lips whenever you kissed during a movie night after tucking Tommy and Billy into their safe, warm beds. Even now as she hunted down both Stephen and America Chavez she could still vaguely taste you upon her variants lips as you bid each other sweet dreams.

In another life Wanda got to kiss you, hold you, protect you, raise kids with you. All the while she was left to suffer on the outside, looking in through the window into a life that could’ve been hers had things gone a little differently. Happiness seemed to avoid her whenever it could and whenever she did experience true happiness it was only temporary and would ultimately end in misery and death. The Darkhold had corrupted her beyond reasoning, it had sent her on this excruciating journey to track down America Chavez, a kid with a ability she wanted, no, needed to unlock the door that hide you from her. Praying on her losses to its benefits as it saw fit as the prolonged usage of dark magic had drained more then its fair share of her life force. It almost took away her sanity, her humanity and made her become delusional to an extent that the grief and suffering Wanda originally felt after being forced to end your life for the greater good only served as the catalyst of her impending descent.

Why did Wanda have to sacrifice her happiness, the love of her life so everyone else could keep theirs? It wasn’t fair. When was it her time to be happy, genuinely happy? Why did she have to be the one to sacrifice everything and to suffer immensely afterwards on her own?! Why wasn’t she aloud to be selfish for once without the accusations of villainy being placed unfairly upon her shoulders?! This is what she kept telling herself as she tried to reach you across the multiverse through any and every means within her disposal in order to retain her life with you and her children once more. Yet a setback came in the form of the Darkhold being destroyed by some determined sorcerer she once thought was killed in the attack of Karmar-Taj whom died shortly afterwards driving a knife through the dammed book; leaving Wanda desperately scrambling for an alternative solution to her issue; even going so far as to torture Wong by hurting other half-dead sorcerers for him to spill that the Darkhold had only been a mere copy of the actual transcriptions that laid embedded within the stone walls of Wundagore mountain.

Wanda, at this point, was willing to do anything and everything in her power to get what she was rightfully deserved, no matter who she had to carelessly hurt in the process; sure she should’ve been at least happy that in other realities she got her happy ending with you, Billy and Tommy. Yet it wasn’t enough for Wanda, she wanted to be the Wanda that got the happy ending even if it meant stealing you away from another Wanda. She couldn’t help the feeling of jealously, the feeling of bitterness within her soul whenever she saw a multitude of her variants getting to sleep beside you every night and be embraced and embracing your sugar and marshmallow scented warmth lovingly through her chaos magic. Wanda knew that if you were in her position you would just just as, if not more, ruthless and aggressive in your endeavours in reaching her to get closure. She knew it, she just knew you would, her soul knew you would for she believed your souls were crafted by the same hands and we’re sent to find one another no matter where you were in the multiverse. Your souls and magic were one in the same to Wanda that she firmly believed that you were soulmates, even in your past lives and that you were meant for each other no matter what because at the end of the day you were made to be hers and she was made to be yours. Forever.

So once you died the magical link that came into full effect as a byproduct of spending every waking moment and being sent on several missions paired together was painfully severed, Wanda felt as though she died right then and there beside you and ever since the Scarlet Which had taken her place. When America Chavez told Wanda that even though she wasn’t going to allow her to take her power, as an alternative she decided to take her to what she wanted instead; Wanda only scoffed in disbelief, not wanting to give her the benefit of the doubt in case it was some form of trick to get her to become complacent that when she was about to do the unthinkable as a result of being pushed to the edge one to many times, the star shaped portal before her lead into a familiar layout within a familiar house. The picture frames where littered across the walls, the sofa was protected behind the coffee table that was littered with tissue as a person who sat upon it was cradling a picture frame against their chest as they cried into the tissue tightly gripped in their hand. Unaware of the starshaped portal and the two people standing within it looking at you solemnly.

Wanda soon realised that this person was in fact you and audibly gasped, her hand immediately letting go of America Chavez’s neck as she made her way into the living room to sit across from you. Watching with a broken heart as you cried, collapsing to your knees; it perfectly paralleled how she was like when she found that you had bought a plot of land within Westview just for her and you to grow old in with the abbreviation of a scarlet heart when her powers took over from the emotional distraught that threatened to drown her over and over again. You were hurting and badly from how tightly you grasped the picture frame. “Wanda,” your meek voice croaked, broken, “why’d you leave you. You said we’d be together forever. I MADE WESTVIEW FOR US AND YET YOU STILL LEAVE ME!” Flares of (f/c) magic emitted from your form, altering the house into one of a gothic structure to represent you inner most thoughts and feelings before it glitched back to the sitcom-esque home from before. “Why were you the one to die, it’s unfair my beloved. All I wanted was to be with you until our last breath and yet fate,” you said the word with such venom that Wanda could feel the fear others felt when faced on the receiving end of her wrath, “took you away from me unfairly and yet everyone else got to keep those they love. WHY ME?! WHY AM I LEFT TO SUFFER A BROKEN HEART IN YOUR ABSENCE?! Huh….why me….I didn’t do nothing wrong..” Wanda had heard enough as tears brimmed her eyes and her soul pained in tandem with your own as she reached across the coffee table to catch a tear falling from your cheek before holding it so you were forced to look into her eyes.

You gasped upon looking at her, dropping the picture frame in the process that thankfully it landed with a thud instead of the sound of glass smashing, “Wanda?” You scrambled to your feet as you felt her other hand reach to your other cheek, her thumbs rubbing against your skin. Your eyes flicker towards America Chavez who only looked at your sympathetically before closing the star shaped portal behind her, leaving you and this woman who shared the same likeness to your late wife within your house dressed like a witch. “I’m not your Wanda.” She admitted sadly as she watched your eyes flicker across her features as though you had materialised her through thought, “I’m aware,” you said after a beat of silence, “yet I don’t have the heart to send you back to your reality, your still my Wanda no matter what because you always said that our souls were made by the same hands; Made to find one another in any and very lifetime we are born. I was made to follow you and you were made to follow me, through heartbreak and the good times. We’re made for each other.” Wanda felt the tears stream down her face at your words as she leaned into the hands that came in contact with her cheeks to wipe away her tears with gentle touches as though you’d break her.

“Fate hasn’t been the kindest to you has it?” You asked as Wanda only collapsed into your arms where she could smell your marshmallow and sugar scent clinging to your skin, “I lost you and everything I’ve done up until now has all been for you.” Wanda admitted as she buried her face deeper into your neck as she felt you let out a sigh of relief, “the countless people I’ve killed to get to you had been wasteful but if it meant I get to be in your arms as I am now I’d kill countless more for you my love.” You didn’t care what this Wanda has done in her reality, you should but you didn’t have the heart to cast her away when fate had taken pity on you and given you a Wanda just as broken as you were at your loss. “I don’t care what you did Wanda, fate has finally given me what I wanted and I have no plans in letting you go back there without me, multiverse be dammed by our actions for I’d rather ruin the multiverse with you then be cursed to live without you ever again.” Wanda didn’t waste any time in kissing you and upon your tongue she could taste the spiced lavender tea and upon your plush lips she could taste the sweetness of popcorn. She finally got what she always wanted. A happy ending.

#marvel imagines #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #mcu imagines #mcu x reader #marvel x you #mcu x you #mcu imagine #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff imagines #Wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x gender neutral reader #wanda maximoff x you #multiverse of madness x reader #multiverse of madness imagines #multiverse of madness imagine #scarlet witch x you #scarlet witch x reader #the scarlet witch x reader