#Remedy For Test Anxiety

[shadowdaddies]

Could I request a Rhys x reader where reader stress cleans or cooks? Rhys just walking into the house and it’s either smelling like some really delicious food or like she just cleaned and already knows something’s wrong?

I’m known in my family to clean or cook when I become stressed, angry, or jealous (mostly stressed and angry) lol. There have been a lot of midnight cleaning sessions or my sister waking up at 3 am to a 3 course meal because something was stressing me out lol

um would you take another sister? you sound so lovely 💜 my brother and I fought each other for the good snacks lmao

Late Night Baking

Rhys x Reader fluff

You jolted awake in bed, already forgetting whatever your nightmare was about, but the dreadful feeling of the dream staying with you. You tried falling back asleep, but your heart was pounding as the stressful emotions built in a crescendo until you were compelled to get out of bed. You stood up, pulling on your robe as you looked to see Rhys still sleeping soundly, moonlight shining on his blue-black hair. 

You crept out the door, trying to stay quiet as you made your way down to the kitchen. Baking was always a comforting distraction when you were upset, and you welcomed the activity, a familiar soothing remedy for your nerves. You played soft music on the symphonia, humming along as you whipped together the ingredients for brownies before popping the tray in the oven. You promptly cleaned the used dishes while the brownies baked, but soon enough you were feeling jittery again, needing to do something with your hands. 

You were scrubbing invisible dirt from the kitchen counter when Rhys padded down the stairs, stretching his arms as he yawned. He gave you a knowing look as he took an exaggerated inhale, smelling the chocolate baking. “It smells wonderful, darling. Do you want to put down the cleaning supplies to let me know why you’re up at this hour?” You sighed, turning around as Rhys brought you into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You laid your head against his chest, mumbling “nightmare.” Rhys gave an understanding hum, not pressing you for information. He knew you would share what you wanted to, when you were ready. His priority was to be there for you, to comfort you. 

You enjoyed his warm embrace, the feeling of his hands rubbing circles on your back, until you were interrupted by the timer. You pulled the brownies out, testing that they were cooked through before setting them out to cool. Rhys returned to stand behind you, arms around you again as his presence lulled you into a warm comfort, and you let out a yawn. He chuckled softly against your shoulder, “darling, why don’t we go back to sleep, and enjoy these brownies tomorrow?” You nodded, anxiety finally wearing off as you began to feel sleepy. Rhys placed a kiss to your temple before picking you up bridal-style, and carrying you upstairs where you fell back asleep in his arms.

[pokemonlolitaproject]

is there anything we can do to help? you said sickness so maybe we could donate money so you can get good medicine?

You are so kind to be worried and to want to help, but I am in a very fortunate position to have good insurance so please don't worry about me funding wise.

Warning: If you don't want to be privy to certain less fun aspects of my personal life please stop at the end of this paragraph. I understand fun blogs like mine are often used for escapism/joy and I have no issue with anyone who wants to keep more serious topics out of their Pokemon fashion fun time.

~I repeat YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED~

To be completely honest my issue is a series of chronic health problems that I have suffered with for years that have become more debilitating with time. I have chronic migraines (for which I have tried many fruitless medications, expensive procedures, and herbal remedies) and never don't have a headache anymore. In addition to that I have a nebulous and loosely diagnosed stomach issue (that I will hopefully have figured out soon after a few new tests) that makes it hard to consistantly keep down food. Between these two issues, depression, and anxiety, I often need extra rest when I get more severe flare ups (which I've been having this week) and find it hard to focus on the blog.

So while this does leave me unable to work; my husband is paid well and I am very fortunate to live some degree of the life that boomers pretend is capable for everyone in my generation. And while tips are appreciated they are by no means needed and we are financially secure.

The other main issue is a family friend is on their death bed, and as he requested my husband and I will be hosting the wake at our home when he passes. This is unsurprisingly taking up a lot of my brain space; so I am trying to fill the rest of what isn't already being taken up by stress, depression, and sickness with family and relaxing rather than the blog (which while I love it makes me anxious when I feel I'm not putting requests out fast enough).

TL;DR: My situation will not get worse or better from more money so please don't feel obligated or pressured to provide monetary support (fanart to cheer me up on the other hand is always appreciated though don't feel obliged to do that either). I am earnestly just grateful to have kind and supportive followers who are willing to stay with me even if I can't post every day like I'd like to.

[chillin-at-partys-bar]

plotted starter with @ravarui

The party outside had been in full swing for an hour or two. Shanks was probably a good few drinks in already. Yasopp had probably already bet and lost half of his money on some cards or dice. Lucky Roux had probably already eaten half as many plates as he and the rest of the cooks had served.

And he had yet to leave his quarters, still sitting in his chair, leaned back and staring at the ceiling. His newspaper was folded neatly to the side. He'd tried to read to calm his normally unassailable nerves, but the words had lost all meaning and the ink type looked like a poor attempt at a Rorschach test.

The events of the evening, if they went as planned, would weigh as heavily as the metal blade concealed on his person.

A small bag of things sat in the corner, ready for him to take along. But the more he thought about it, the less he wanted anything in it. Nothing to remind him of how things were. The weight in his stomach made him feel sick, an anxiety and a silent rolling anger of what led to this mixed together. A burst of laughter came through the cracks in his door and in his nerves and he pulled out another cigarette and stuck it between his lips.

Since the decision was made he'd gone through at least three times as many packs as usual.

As soon as this stick was lit he sucked in air and nicotine like his life depended on it. Perhaps after tonight, it would. And then just as he had the cigarette's remedy for stress, he choked down any other feelings he had towards that evening's task.

He needed to get up. He needed to get out. Maybe if Shanks noticed he wasn't at the party... he'd come here, to check on him. And then they'd be alone. Because that was the kind of person Shanks was. The kind who would feel something off with those he loved and would go towards them to see if they needed help.

Without even watching his own back.

What a fucking idiot.

[wingedcat13]

Synovus: Siren Call (1)

[Surprise! Bet you thought you'd seen the last of me! I took a break from writing these for a bit, but I did want to get through the idea I had about something from Minerva's perspective. This one is in third person, set after Villains Never Retire. No idea what I'm talking about? Check out the first of the Synovus works here! There'll be a bit of a delay, but this one will join the rest of the Synoverse up on Ao3 here. How many parts will this be? I've learned my lesson, I'm not estimating.]

Minerva had stopped expecting her life to be ‘normal’ before she’d graduated High School.

When at 16 you were already having to downplay your physical strength to avoid taking doors off of their hinges, and realizing that you could never, ever join the swim team even if you could absolutely destroy any of the times they posted, there were a few other things your mind put together in the background.

Like the fact that you would never be safe again.

Hiding things about herself wasn’t exactly conducive to the kind of relationship she wanted, so romance was dead. That was fine at the time, actually, most of the people she’d been interested in had turned out to be more interested in… well, a variety of things ranging from other people to free emotional support. The point was, she’d been more upset by the idea that any of her personal goals for a career were now permanently marred by the terror that she’d have to do some kind of blood test that would brand her as a ‘cape.’

And that it would have to be hidden was never even a question. Sure, there were heroes around who people were proud of when she was younger. But every so often, those heroes would go out to fight, and be seen again as scorched remains in a crater left by a man called Sunhallow. Other villains, too. People said he was targeting anyone who might be a threat to him if they didn’t work for him.

Kids in her classes had mostly made fun of the costume.

Even after Sunhallow’s disappearance and rumored death, when she was in her senior year, people were wary. Things like Sunhallow didn’t just die. They always came back. There was always a second shoe to drop.

And no one knew about her then, not yet, so she thought maybe... maybe she could live a little?

Going off to college had felt like the last chance she had at any degree of ‘normalcy’ and even that was tempered by the gnawing sense of something missing, something wrong. She’d put it down to anxiety about her classes and pushed through it, sure it would eventually pass.

Minerva hadn’t been a teenager for about two decades now. But that sense of… something missing had never really gone away.

She'd experimented with drinking and with a few variations on marijuana, and a variety of at-home remedies like aromatherapy and meditations. She'd tried a therapist, twice, even though she felt like she couldn't tell them everything about herself, and she knew that kind of defeated a lot of the point of therapy. And that gnawing feeling continued, until it seemed stranger to imagine a world without it.

There were times it was so muted, so quiet that she could forget about it - when she was in a fight, or diving, or when Alexandria had been little. Sometimes Albion could drive it away, and make her feel sane.

But she’d never felt quite as… at peace, as she did when she was in costume. That was the only time, the only place, that the sense of something missing really faded away.

Plenty of people had told her that every cape had something deeply wrong with them, to be the kind of person to do what they did. Minerva had never corrected them.

—-

“You’re awake early.”

Minerva glanced over one shoulder, unsurprised to see Synovus draped against half of her doorframe. She’d left the door open, and Synovus was very carefully on the edge where she could shut the door in their face, if she’d wanted. Trying not to be an intrusion, even as they unrepentantly stuck their metaphorical nose into her business.

“Judging by your face, you haven’t slept.” Minerva said critically.

Synovus made a noise of mock dismay, and Minerva risked giving them a closer look. Yes, the bags under their eyes were more pronounced than usual, and their hair was a barely-contained mess, but none of that worried her. The haphazard state of their clothing was, frankly, par for the course around the island these days.

“Evil never sleeps, m-Minerva.” The slip up was slight, covered for quickly and smoothly. Once, she wouldn’t have caught it. Now, she knew Synovus better.

‘My Dear Minerva,’ they’d almost said.

Minerva ignored it.

“I’m taking that trip to the mainland I talked about.” She explained, turning her back on the most confusing human being she’d ever known in favor of checking her case’s contents for the third time.

Synovus hummed, and Minerva stiffened on reflex. She relaxed almost as quickly, but still mentally scolded herself. Synovus hummed when they were uncertain of themselves, not to try and trap her into an argument. They’d said several times that she was both welcome to stay and to leave at her discretion.

This was normal. This was fine.

“If you should… need anything, while you’re out there-“ Synovus was picking their words carefully, skirting around potential condescension or worry to come off as affable, almost disinterested. It didn’t really work.

“I will be fine.” Minerva says firmly, turning to glare if need be.

Instead, she meets Synovus’s gaze. Their eyes are clear for the moment, no shadows flickering, no lights swirling. Instead, the only thing she sees in them is… confidence.

“I know.” Synovus says, and even the faint lilt of humor isn’t enough to hide the certainty in that statement. They clear their throat, “I have no misgivings about your strength and ability to use it, Lady Minerva. But, should you wish to be better than ‘fine’ while out and about in the world…”

They trail off, and Minerva wonders, idly, if it’s possible to push them so far into discomfort that they start using ‘thee’ instead of ‘you.’ She’d rather think about that than the sheer faith Synovus had in her, and what that might mean aside from further proof Synovus was -

There were too many ways to finish that sentence. Her mind rejected all of them with a studious determination before Synovus realized she wasn’t going to finish their sentence either.

“… you will call?” They asked softly.

A few months ago, Minerva might’ve sneered at the implication she would ever ask Synovus for anything. But then she’d been captured, ‘outmaneuvered’ by a pair of up-and-coming villains with a hostage trick, and then each and every one of her backup plans came crashing down when her daughter had been thrown into a trap right beside her.

And then there had been rain in the desert, and the sound of a Villain’s taunt ringing through the spire’s PA system, and eventually - Synovus themself, there to take both of them home. Even if they’d had several reasons to do it that had nothing to do with her, or Alexandria.

“One day, Minerva.” Synovus had murmured then, “I'm going to prove to you that my affection for you is not a trap”

“I’ll call when I’m on my way back to the island.” Minerva said coolly now, closing a mental door on the reverie. “If only so you don’t wake your entire staff in a panic.”

Synovus winced. A week prior, the sensors that alerted any Cape’s approach to the island had mis-triggered, mistaking a particularly dense patch of seagulls for someone with flight making an unauthorized approach. Watching the way everyone leapt to alarm stations and fell immediately into place had been impressive. Watching a sleep deprived Synovus throw their helmet at the birds (and miss) once they’d realized what had happened had been hilarious.

"Who's panicking?" The bleary voice comes from behind Synovus, and they shift aside to let Alexandria through.

Minerva's wayward teenage daughter looked like she was still contemplating waking up - like her body had just gotten ahead of schedule, and the rest of her hadn't caught up yet. Synovus ruffled her hair affectionately as she passed.

"No one yet, though the night's still young." Synovus replied, while Alexandria stepped forward to hug Minerva.

Minerva was still trying to learn not to hug too tightly, every time something happened. Logically, she knew there was nowhere in the world safer than Synovus's island. And she knew her daughter could defend herself.

But Minerva had been afraid of losing her long before she'd ever been born, and that fear didn't die easy.

"It's seven in the morning." Minerva scolded over Alexandria's shoulder.

Synovus frowned, and made a show of finding their phone to squint at the time it displayed. Their frown deepened, as though they had caught the bit of technology lying to them.

Alexandria had shifted from a full hug to standing to one side, still leaning on Minerva. "I'll call Rosie." She threatened. The yawn that cut her off kept her from living up to her chosen moniker.

Synovus shrugged, slipping the phone back into a pocket. "I won't sleep any faster if they're yelling at me." They point out. "Anyway, your mother-" It was always 'your mother' in front of Alexandria, "-agreed to call ahead on her way back. So we don't get another birdstrike scenario."

"It'd be more like the time with the dolphins." Alexandria remarked. Minerva raised a brow, looking from her daughter back to Synovus, who turned both hands palm up and looked mildly chagrined.

"Nevermind, I'm sure I don't want to know." Minerva says, waving it off both to avoid the headache, and because she's still itching to get going.

Alexandria knows the tone well enough - she gives Minerva another squeeze, then slips away to join Synovus by the doorway. She yawns again, and calls back over her shoulder, "Tell Gran and Gramps I said hi."

When she's gone again, Synovus and Minerva consider each other - one hesitant, the other wary. After a moment, Synovus extends a hand, offering, "Safe travels."

Minerva checks their palm for a sign of something they might be trying to slip her before shaking it. "Thanks." She said flatly.

And if she finds herself rubbing her fingers on the walk down to the beach, well, it's a subconscious tic. Unrelated.

---

There’s a common phrase that’s worked it’s way into becoming a whole saying.

“You never forget your first.”

For most people, that’s a marker of a degree of intimacy - a first crush, a first kiss, a first sexual experience. But it holds true for other things as well - like a first horrific allergic reaction. And arguments can be made that that’s all love really is, anyway.

Among the caped community, there’s a different list of firsts. The first person you told about your abilities. The first time you found out you had abilities. The first other hero you’d ever met. A popular ice breaker at parties is ‘the first person you ever saved.’

Less popular are the counterpoints: the first person you couldn’t save. The first villain you encountered. The first time you had to choose in the heat of a moment, and you chose wrong.

For Minerva, a terrifying amount of her caped ‘firsts’ have the same name - Albion.

He’d been the first person to find out about her abilities, and the first powered person she’d ever met face to face. A misunderstanding wherein he thought she’d been swept out to sea by a riptide and she assumed the figure dropping from the sky was out to get her had resulted in a very confused half-fight, wherein they’d saved each other from their own nonsense.

She’d thought once that that was how it would always be - saving each other. Things had turned out more in favor of the slap-fighting and misunderstandings.

—-

Minerva is working up the courage to get out of her car when her phone buzzes.

Alex: So how’s it going?

Despite herself, Minerva smiles, just a little. She can’t put her finger on why, and doesn’t try to.

Min: I’ve only just gotten here. Haven’t even knocked on the door yet.

Alex: Okay, then how was the drive?

Min: It was fine.

Minerva grimaces. That feels insufficient. She wracks her memory for something else to add, but the drive was hardly anything, nothing stands out. Before she can come up with something else, there’s a response:

Alex: Y’know, I should’ve offered to fly you over.

Minerva raises an eyebrow.

Min: And why’s that?

Alex: I still want to let you talk to them alone and everything, but they could’ve just seen me drop you off, and been like “who’s that really cool goth girl?”

Alex: And you could say something like “I have much to tell you” and bam, ice broken.

Min: Is Synovus giving you advice on dramatic entrances?

Alex: You never told me that one time they stole a whole cruise ship for the ambiance.

Min: Is that what they’re calling it?

Minerva’s mouth twitches again. Yes, Synovus had commandeered a cruise ship, and spent the whole fight spouting off about how it was good to have ‘variety’ in one’s combat scenarios. They’d also convinced part of the ship’s entertainment crew to set up a big ‘reveal’ of who had taken over the ship, as though anyone else would’ve bothered to think of musical cues.

She’d been tempted to sink the ship.

While Alexandria goes briefly radio-silent - presumably to grill Synovus for more details on the cruise ship story - Minerva looks up towards the house she’s never seen before.

It’s a relatively unassuming one-story. It’s ten minutes on foot from here to where the coast starts, and she could have her feet in the water by the fifteen minute mark. The sound of the waves is different here than it is on the island - there aren’t any cliffs or underwater tunnels, only the long smooth curve of a beach made more of rocks than sand. It’s soothing.

A twitch of a curtain in one window reminds her she’s looking at the house, not the ocean. Mentally, she scolds herself for wasting time.

She allows herself one last white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel, and one last deep breath.

Then Minerva gets out of her car, and goes to talk to the parents she hasn’t seen in seven years.

—-

When Minerva became a hero, it went something like this:

She’d always been a strong swimmer. Her family lived near the water line, always, so it wasn’t unusual for her to come into contact with the ocean at least once a day, when the weather was fair, and rain or snow when it wasn’t.

Her parents had always seemed overly cautious about calling her out of the water before it got too cold, or before she could get too tired, but that’s any child’s perspective. She wouldn’t get sick from a bit of splashing around, even if there were frost films on the windows and flurries in the air. And as she got older, they trusted her to know her limits more and more, and her confidence had only grown.

Which was why, when they’d seen the small crowd gathering at the road not far from where they lived at the time and heard the murmurs that someone had been swept out to sea, Minerva had been absolutely certain that she could save them.

She’d gone home, put on her wetsuit, and been out of her window in minutes. It wasn’t hard to find a cove out of sight of the news crews and nervous watchers. And even as the light was dimming, she didn’t feel afraid.

Because once Minerva was in the water, nothing could touch her.

It wasn’t as though she didn’t feel the currents, the motions of the waves - she did. They just didn’t have sway over her unless she allowed it. It wasn’t as though she couldn’t tell the light was darkening, or the temperature falling - she could. They were just minor shifts, like the movement of a sunbeam across her arms while she read in the windowsill.

So Minerva had swept out on the same current that had ripped a man from the shallows, and looked for the signs of a person’s floundering.

This, admittedly, had been the weakest part of her plan, because she had no idea how to find someone in the vast expanse of potential that was the ocean. All she really had going for her was that she was fast, could manually follow the currents, and didn’t get cold. And, she eventually realized, she might’ve been looking for a corpse instead of a person, and how would she find that?

Those doubts had just had time to start to settle when she found him.

Minerva never did learn his name, but he was a few years older than her, there visiting his family, which was why he hadn’t known the signs he needed to look out for. He knew what a riptide was, and that he was supposed to try and swim parallel to shore to escape it, but everything happened so fast and it was so cold, that all he could really do was tread water. At least, that’s the story she got out of him as she towed him back to shore.

The only time her courage had faltered had been when he’d asked for her name, after she’d brought him to the secluded cove, and directed him towards the crowd.

“You saved my life.” He’d explained, still dazed and weak. “Who do I - how do I thank you?”

And there had been a sudden feeling of ice water down her spine, as she’d remembered the stories of what happened to people who were saviors.

“Tell them a Naiad saved you.” She’d called, moving back into the waves. “It’s true enough!”

There’d been speculation that he misheard her, and that her name was ‘Maya’ for a while. But in the end, the story faded - and Minerva never forgot.

—-

There’s no good, simple way to repair a cut tie with someone you love.

Whether things frayed until they snapped, withered and disintegrated, or were cut cleanly, that thread can never be respun. You have to start over, and try and weave with the tangled threads of what’s left.

Sometimes the threads are still the same color - soft pastels of passing friendships that blend well enough when they’re given the opportunity. Sometimes you find that while you weren’t looking (and sometimes when you were) the threads have been dyed, and the red that meant love once has been shot through with the purples of bruises and resentment, its original hues shifted to rage. That was what Minerva expected to find, when she came home. That’s what most of her own tapestry looked like these days, after all.

Instead, she found the golden honey color of home.

—-

It took a few hours for them to all wind up at the kitchen table. They’d covered for some of the awkwardness by showing her the house - her father’s most recent crochet project, pictures of last year’s garden, how her mother had finally decided to organize the spice cabinet after six years of deliberation and relabeling.

(She’d frowned and swapped two canisters while Minerva’s father wasn’t looking, and Minerva nearly cried at the familiarity of it.)

Then had come the insistence of refreshments, of warm drinks against the coolness of the weather. The porch was a bit damp, and the living room a bit dark, but the table was mostly clear so long as she didn’t mind shuffling aside a few skeins of yarn, would that do?

And so they’d settled in, as the rain drummed softly into the roof and dripped from the overhang that shielded the window. And her father had taken a breath, met her eyes, and said,

“We love you. And you don’t owe us a damn thing.”

Minerva had blinked. That wasn’t what she was expecting.

Her mother nodded firmly, adding, “Not an explanation, not an apology - if you want to talk about any of it, Min, you know - I want you to know - that we’ll listen, anytime, anywhere. But if all you want is to come over for dinner, then that’s all we’ll do.”

Minerva stared at her cup, trying to think of where to begin. What would be polite - no, they didn’t stand on manners with family. What would be right- well, by whose standards? What did she want?

Finally, she croaked, “I think I - I want you to ask.”

And so they did.

And so Minerva told them.

She told them about how she’d become slowly convinced that her continued nearness to them was putting them in danger. She told them about how Albion was always reminding her of the need to be cautious, the importance of not ever being caught. She told them about how sometimes he’d bring up the Sunhallow purges, and try to make a plan for what they’d do if it ever happened again.

She told them about how he’d begged her to make the move, citing crime rates and health statistics and population graphs, anything to get her to concede they would be better - safer - away from the city, further inland. If not for her, then for their child. And how she’d eventually caved, because if he was so worried, and this would bring him more peace of mind, then she could bear it. It would keep the people she loved safe.

She told them about how she’d tried to look into finding a place near water - a lake, a pond, a river. Every time, Albion had assured her that he was keeping that in mind, but that he’d handle it, really. She didn’t need to stress, especially when she was keeping up with so much otherwise. He admired her for being able to manage so much, the house and the hero gig, and could he just do this one thing for her?

She told them about how the house had been twenty minutes away from the nearest large water source. About how she’d begged him for something - anything. A koi pond. A pool. A goddamned well.

“Think about how that would look to the neighbors, ‘Thena.” He’d said worriedly. “I know you - you get underwater and you don’t come out for hours. They’ll think you’re drowning yourself.”

So they’d bought the largest tub she could find, and she’d spent as much time as she could submerged in it, staring at its porcelain sides and the bathroom lighting and feeling like a fish in a bowl. She’d told herself it was a selfish thought.

She told them about how he would sometimes grab her too roughly, or slam things around her. Sometimes it was a joke, played off as training her instincts. Sometimes it wasn’t.

“I just - you’re the only person in the whole world I can let my guard down around.” He’d muttered to her, mid-apology after a shove had left her sternum aching and purple. “I love you so much, I don’t stop to think.”

Somehow, she’d wound up being the one comforting him.

And she chokes out how having accepted those reasons made it easier to believe them herself, when Alex had the occasional bruise. When she reached out to slap her hand away from something, or pulled a bit too roughly. It felt like validation for everything Albion had said - look, it was easy to fall into. It didn’t mean anything.

It happened all the time.

And there was no one, by then, to tell her otherwise, because friendships were liabilities and risks that they couldn’t take, because it wasn’t right to endanger others with a secret they would never share. There were no work friends. No PTA rivalries. No soccer parent associations.

There was only the house, and the freedom that came from going out in costume. And even then, there could be no interviews, and every statement had to be carefully measured so that no one - not a villain, or a civilian, or even another hero - could learn something they shouldn’t.

Laying it out like this, Minerva realizes that it’s no wonder she only ever felt like herself in a fight. It was the only time she didn’t have to hold back any part of who she was.

She’s expecting her parents to condemn her for not realizing when she’d turned from - (her mind skitters away from the term ‘abused’) bystander to accomplice in Albion’s behavior. She’s expecting hurt that she didn’t trust them to make their own decisions about risks. She’s expecting them to say they taught her better than this.

Instead, they listen. Even when there are times one or both tightens their grip on their mugs, or wrestles to avoid showing some emotion (because it is no mystery where she got her temper; none of them are strangers to righteous rage) they do not interject outside of the quiet, prompting questions. And when she finally stumbles to a halt, before she’s even gotten to Synovus and the kidnapping, her mother comes to kneel beside her and wrap her arms around her, while her father stands at her other shoulder and does the same.

“You’re free now?” Her mother asks, running her fingers through Minerva’s hair. “You and Alex both?”

Minerva nods. She clears her throat, enough to force two words out, “Albion’s dead.”

She realizes that there’s an implication there, that she wielded the spear that killed him. The idea doesn’t hurt as much as it would’ve once - but neither of her parents so much as blink.

“Good.” Her mother says firmly. “Then that’s all you need to focus on right now, Min. No matter how long it takes you to untangle the knots he’s tied you in - you’re free.”

—-

Truth be told, Minerva doesn’t know when her parents figured out she had powers. For all she knows, they had known since she was born.

But one night, when she and Albion had been staying with her parents for a week, and they’d gone out to fight, they came back to see one of her parents on the porch, the other in the windowsill.

“You’re both alright?” Her father had asked.

No surprise. No exclamations. No how-could-yous. Concern. Acknowledgement. A reminder of when breakfast would be ready.

And that was that.

—-

The guest room in their new house isn’t the same as a childhood bedroom, but to Minerva, it feels similar. She’s under their roof again, with all the reflexive memories and half-forgotten ones tugged along with them.

She had expected to feel… well, different. Not good, probably kind of bad. And she didn’t feel lighter yet, the way people said confessions were supposed to make you feel. Instead, Minerva felt… raw. Sticky. Like the truth she’d tried to ‘set free’ had just come back to cling to her.

She was too emotionally exhausted to try and parse that. Better to get some sleep, if she could.

Minerva unzipped her suitcase, flipping it open on the bed. Her suitcase, that she’d checked so many times over. The suitcase with all of her clothing and things in perfect organization, untouched.

And a postcard sitting loose on top of them.

It had to have been custom-made. There was no stamp, for one thing, no actual postal markings. Just the same shape and size, with the same stylized ‘Wish you were here’ emblazoned across a picture… a picture of Synovus. On the beach. In full costume. With the necessary additions of a woven wide-brim hat and loose Hawaiian floral shirt left unbuttoned, on top of the helmet and body armor. They were holding a glass of juice with a little umbrella and a silly straw.

Alone in this bedroom that wasn’t hers, but might’ve been, Minerva burst out laughing.

[thepsychologicalpeacock]

True happiness, the kind that endures the tests of time, springs from a profound well within our being. It emanates from a serene contentment and an inner assurance so unyielding that external conditions, be they favorable or adverse, can't sway its roots. Picture the mind discovering a sanctuary where the past is no longer recalled with anxiety, and the future is approached with a steadfast certainty. 💙

Now, let's toss some sass into this wisdom cocktail. Forget about those intoxicating shortcuts; we're talking about happiness that doesn't demand a hangover remedy. This isn't a rollercoaster ride of emotions; it's a serene cruise down the river of contentment. Imagine a state of mind so unfazed by past mishaps that it looks back and chuckles, saying, "Yeah, that happened, but look at me now!" And here's the kicker: If you're on a first-name basis with Divine Goodness and see your soul as an immortal, ever-expanding entity, congratulations – you've snagged the golden ticket to happiness. Regardless of the chaos life throws your way, you strut through it with an unshakable smile. It's the kind of happiness that, when faced with adversity, raises an eyebrow and says, "Really? That's the best you've got?" 🫶

[artsbysmarty]

2 months ago, I failed a class in medical school.

It was never something I imagined happening to me, especially because I’ve been anxious about tests before and would still end up scraping by. I figured my test anxiety this time around was no different and I could continue to ignore my mental health steadily declining over the month I took this class as I let stressors around me pile on and compound. I just wanted it all to be over.

Failing the class forced me to confront how I was ignoring things. It forced me to change how I studied, forced me to ask for help��� from my school and from my friends, hell even from my parents whom I was afraid of letting down the most. And the healing process sucked— I would feel happy for a moment, only to have a fear in the back of my mind that it would be short lived and I’d be stuck feeling hopeless again. I was terrified I’d see a repeat of this unit in the last final of the year. It took me weeks to get back to a place where I felt mentally sound enough to get back into learning everything all over again, studying it like I’d never seen it before. It was easier once, when I reminded myself I deserved love and happiness, I finally started believing it.

Yesterday, I remediated the class with a makeup exam and passed it with flying colors. The quote is inspired from a line in my review book— “This too shall pass. Just like a kidney stone.”

[musical-shit-show]

The “i’ve been falling in love with you since the first day we met.” Prompt screams musical juice to me, maybe something like a mutual confession?

call my bluff, call you “babe”

Pairing: Musical!Beetlejuice x Reader

Inspiration: Prompt #6 (i’ve been falling in love with you since the first day we met.”) from Prompt List #1 requested by @nak3d-snak3

Warnings: anxiety, cursing, reader and bj are both dumbasses, mutual pining, light fluff

Word Count: 2,175

Author’s Note: Thank you for the request! Apologies for the delay on this, I had about a thousand words written for a different concept but scrapped it and started from scratch. As always, check out my masterlist, about me page, prompt lists, or submit an ask!

“Oh my god, you are beyond obvious.”

“What are you even talking about, Lyds? Can’t a dead guy check himself out in the mirror every once in a while?”

The teen crossed her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow.

“You can’t fool me, you know. I know you’re into the neighbor.” Beetlejuice scoffed at his reflection, picking worriedly at a particularly unruly patch of moss that was growing on his right temple. Lydia noticed his expression and narrowed her eyes. “And since when do you care about how you look?”

“Since always,” he deadpanned, “Haven’t you ever wondered why I wear this snazzy suit? Really makes ‘em go crazy.”

If there was one thing Beetlejuice was good at, it was using humor as a deflection tool. That, and scaring the shit out of breathers.

He didn’t scare you, though. He never did.

In fact, the first time you two met, the first time he tried to scare you, you laughed. In his face. In front of Lydia, who also burst out laughing as soon as you cracked a smile.

Even he could admit that your first encounter bruised his ego a bit, but as soon as you introduced yourself and he was able to sneak a few sideways glances, he knew he hadn’t met a breather quite like you before. Plus, it didn’t hurt that you were easy on the eyes.

It didn’t take long for the demon to fall, and fall hard. And that scared the shit out of him so much that he’d much rather pretend those feelings didn’t exist.

Sure, he was good a for laugh and a flirt whenever you made your way over to the house to visit, but he knew someone like you would never actually be with someone like him.

For fuck’s sake, he was a dead guy! A dead guy with an acknowledged sketchy past and impressive kill count. But you? You were kind, and funny without being mean, and you seemed to always know when Lydia was down and the exact remedy, which was usually whatever recipe you decided to test out that week.

And there you were, walking down the road with your plate of slightly burned snickerdoodles, ready for another night of “babysitting” Lydia. More accurately, you were giving peace of mind to Charles, who was out of town with Delia and still didn’t love the idea of his daughter alone in the house with a mischievous demon.

Plus, you didn’t mind. You had quickly bonded with Lydia, and even caught glimpses of your younger self in her from time to time. You even grew fond of Beetlejuice, much to your surprise.

He made you double over with laughter, demonstrated some of his powers while Lydia teased him about being a show off, and told you all about the Netherworld, never sparing an unsavory detail.

And before you knew it, your attraction to him hit you like a ton of bricks.

Sure, you had questionable taste in men before, but this was something else entirely. And yes, he flirted with you almost constantly, but you distinctly remember Lydia telling you that he was, quote “basically horny for everyone” so you tried to not ascribe any meaning to it.

Which only led to you keeping your feelings as close to your chest as you could.

Of course, this unresolved tension drove Lydia up the wall. It was clear to her that you two liked each other, but you were either both too stubborn or scared or outright oblivious to do anything about it.

As she stared at the demon, who was still fixated on making himself as presentable as possible, the doorbell rang. Beetlejuice’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, the tips of his hair growing a sickly yellow color.

“If I were you, Beej, I’d try to get that under control,” Lydia remarked, pointing to his hair, “You’re my best friend, but I actually like our neighbor, so don’t—”

“What, scare her off?” he scoffed, “Lyds, it didn’t work the first time, I doubt she’s gonna be put off by a little color changing. She doesn’t know what it means, anyways.” He said that last bit under his breath, folding his arms over the frayed lapels of his jacket. Though you picked up on when his usually bright green coif turned an angry red or melancholic purple, Beetlejuice hadn’t given you a full lesson in Stupid Demon Mood Ring Hair 101.

Lydia rolled her eyes and trampled down the stairs, greeting you with a smile. You said hello to Beetlejuice, who grunted a small “how goes it” before planting himself on the carpet in front of the TV. The plate of cookies you brought over was sitting on the coffee table, and you were reading a book while Lydia finished up a school art project in the kitchen.

You peered over the pages of the weathered novel to see Beetlejuice staring up at you, eyes as wide as saucers. You quirked an eyebrow at him, “Do you want to sit up here, Beej?”

As if coming out of a trance, he blinked a few times before chuckling nervously, “Only if you’re okay with me taking up some of your real estate, toots.”

“Yeah, of course,” you smirked, patting the spot right next to you, “I don’t mind.”

How you were playing it this cool, you had no idea. Sure, the two of you had exchanged a light touch here and there, but your heartbeat quickened as soon as he tested the waters by laying his head against your thigh.

You impulsively wondered how dirty his hair must’ve been, given the state of his suit. Would a demon who didn’t bother washing his clothing even think of shampooing? You shuddered slightly, but from the looks of it, his hair looked strangely well kept, albeit wild and almost having a mind of its own.

Absentmindedly, you started twirling your fingers through the strands, doing your best to act enthralled in the book you were clutching in your free hand. Much to your surprise, his hair was soft and fluffy.

Within seconds, you felt a small vibration coming from his throat. The motherfucker was purring. Actually purring. “Oh my god,” you squeal, unable to contain yourself, “you’re like a cat. That is adorable.”

Beetlejuice could’ve died a third time hearing you call him adorable. A light pink hue crept its way through his scalp.

You quirked an eyebrow, “What does pink mean?”

“Hmm?” Beetlejuice pretended like he didn’t hear you.

“The pink. In your hair.” your mouth twitched upward, examining the demon’s startled expression, “I’ve never seen your hair change color like that before. Does it mean something, or…?”

He sat up immediately, making eye contact with Lydia, who just shot him a look from the kitchen table. A look that said ‘Figure out what you’re going to say, you big, stripey idiot!’.

“Oh, uh,” he muttered, “Well—”

“I’ll be right back,” Lydia blurted, “Gotta, um, get something from my room.” As she clomped up the stairs, she couldn’t help but relish in the fact that you had managed to render Beetlejuice nearly catatonic.

“Oh, okay!” you said cheerily, setting your book down entirely and throwing your legs onto the couch. You furrowed your brow for a moment, and then turned your eye towards the demon, who sported a nervous look, the pink in his hair replaced with his usual lime green with the smallest tinge of yellow.

“What’s wrong, toots?” he attempted to come off nonchalant, “I thought we were having a great time complimenting me.”

You let out a small laugh. “Oh nothing, I was just…thinking.” You decided not to press him on the shade of his coif; you mind was starting to wander, wander towards a time only a few short months prior.

Life was so different then. Before picked up everything, moved to a new town, and leased a small cottage that was right down the road from the house you now sat in. Before you met Lydia and her parents, Charles and Delia. Before Lydia let it slip that her house was haunted and you met Adam and Barbara.

Before Beetlejuice tried to scare you. Tried being the operative word. You were never afraid of him; in fact, you thought he was fascinating at first. But as you got to know him, you could see the sweetness under the rough exterior.

“I just…you’re not at all what I expected. When I first met you, I mean.”

He grinned widely, a giddy glint in his amber eyes, “Oh, babes, I think you’ll find I’m full of surprises.”

You couldn’t help but let out a light laugh, feeling at ease around him despite your heart squeezing in your chest. You knew Beetlejuice frequently traveled to and from the Netherworld, and you were sure he had someone on the other side.

Someone far better suited for him than you could ever be.

You tried to shake that nagging feeling from the back of your mind. Despite the fact that it wouldn’t work out between the two of you, a little harmless flirting never hurt anyone, right? Still, you weren’t great at masking your emotions, and you tried your best to turn your attention elsewhere.

“Uh, so, any ideas on entertaining Lydia? A movie is always a solid choice, or we could play a board game—”

“What’s up with you?” he asked, curious with a twinge of sadness in his voice, “I thought we were doing the whole flirting thing pretty well, what happened?”

Shit. When did he become so perceptive?

“Oh, I—”

“Was it something I said?” Beetlejuice felt a rush of anxiety, trying his best to fight off that familiar feeling of abandonment from rearing its ugly head.

You couldn’t take it anymore. If you didn’t say anything at that moment, your equally debilitating insecurity would never tell him the truth.

“No, Beej it’s not that,” you said finally, picking at your nailbeds, “I just…I like you, okay? Actually like you. Way more than I was expecting, as a matter of fact. And I know that we just flirt and it’s great and fun and you probably have like, a super-hot demon girlfriend you go visit in the Netherworld or something but…I like you, and I just had to get that off my chest, okay?”

The demon was, for once, speechless.

“Please say something,” you begged, hushing your voice, “At least before Lydia comes back downstairs.”

Beetlejuice couldn’t help but simper at your uneasy state, “First off, I’m flattered you think I have a super-hot demon girlfriend,” he joked, cutting the awkwardness in the air, “But I don’t. I don’t really, uh, do that shit in the Netherworld anymore. Not since I met you.”

“What?”

“Sugar, I’ve been falling in love with you since the first day we met. I thought it was you who wouldn’t want me on account of, well, this.” He gestured to his general form, smiling in a very self-deprecating way. “That’s what pink means, that I have the hots for ya.” He pointed back up at his hair, which was now almost completely changed to that same light pinkish color as before.

You shook your head incredulously, feeling like a complete idiot for not catching on sooner. You couldn’t help but let a dumbstruck grin spread across your face, not believing that your confession would actually be reciprocated.

“So, since we’re past the formalities,” he slid closer, putting his arm around you, “How’s about a little tonsil hockey before the kid comes back?”

“The kid can hear you by the way!” Lydia called from the top of the steps, “And no one says ‘tonsil hockey’ anymore, old man.” Your face grew flush, but Beetlejuice just stuck out his tongue as Lydia made her way back down the steps.

The younger girl stood in front of you and Beetlejuice, who had already staked his claim and pulled you as close to him as humanly possible. “Look, I don’t care what you do, just don’t do it in front of me, got it?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you replied, holding back a giggle.

“Scout’s honor,” Beetlejuice chimed in, crossing his non-beating heart. He did manage to lean over and whisper in your ear, “We’ll just have to go to your place, huh babes?”

“Hmm, we’ll see,” you said coyly, “If you actually let Lydia pick the movie this time.”

“Ugh.”

“And not make a ruckus.”

“Ughhhh.”

“And actually let me pay attention to what’s on the screen for once.”

“Well, that might be hard to do. A little birdie told me you’re super into me.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ would you two stop flirting and help me pick something!” Lydia sounded as though she was ready to vomit from all the incessant teasing.

“Okay you’re right, you’re right,” you said, snuggling into the demon’s side just a bit more, “She’s gonna hate us, isn’t she?”

“Oh yeah,” he said with a smirk, “too bad we’re just getting started.”

_____

Thanks for reading, and thanks again to @nak3d-snak3 for the request!

[hugheshugs]

daddy issues au

summary: you've been craving your father's affection for years and after endless heartbreak, his best friend shows you how to be loved.

pairing: dadsbestfriend!thomas x brisson!reader

warnings: major age gap !! thomas is 40. absent father, lots of angst, anxiety, sadness, fear, hurt/comfort, regarding smut: innocence kink and daddy kink. other warnings will be specific to each fic.

playlist

tags

moodboards

series —

for hockey

part one

when your brother and dad are out for practice, you're met with unexpected company in your house.

going grape

part two

you and thomas get close after you meet some of your dad's friends for the first time and he has to reintroduce himself to hide suspicion.

dinner time

part three

you find out something that upsets you and leads you to avoid dinner but thomas comes to find you anyway.

the unknown remedy

part four

thomas shuts himself off from everyone for a couple days, resulting in a surprise from you and his friends. you find out one of his secrets and he gets vulnerable, leading you to reassure him that everything'll be okay.

imagines —

i'm not your dad

when you're in distress and call your dad to come get you, he sends his best friend instead.

force him to love you

after running out of the house because of a fight with your dad, thomas has to find you.

don't call me baby

brendan brings home a girl who makes you cry and he feels the need to defend you.

blurbs —

more blurbs under #dbf!thomas thoughts

teasing him at the dinner table

suggested 18+ but not close to nsfw, use your discretion | thom and y/n teasing each other when bren has him over.

his sounds of pain

dbf!thom taking y/n with him when he gets a new tattoo and she gets turned on by his little grunts and winces.

school supplies

dbf!thom taking you shopping for something you need.

brendan catching you together

suggested 18 + | dbf!thomas about them kissing or doing the devils tango and her dad walking in.

being there for you

part two

on senior night when everyone’s parents are supposed to show up for photos and celebrations, y/n thinks she’s gonna be the only one without someone there until thom shows up.

your first tattoo

dbf!thom being there for your first tattoo.

fights and rainy days

first time sleeping in dbf!thom bed.

cooking class

thom teaching you how to cook since your dad is always so busy with your brother.

pain and promises

thom helping you through your period.

honey butter

you're studying for a big test and you're super stressed so thom offers to help you.

convincing him

thom talks your dad into letting you get a tattoo.

you love him more

you tell your dad he treats you unfairly.

invisible

you have a breakdown in front of thom because you feel alone.

[whereianonymouslypostfics]

Nerves 

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~3k

Summary: Wanda fights a panic attack

A/N: Here’s the requested wedding drabble! I kept y/n’s outfit purposefully vague for individual interpretation. 

Warnings: Fluff, slight angst in beginning, happy ending!

Wanda can’t remember the last time she’d been so nervous. She briefly thinks about the number of times she’d stared down the barrel of a gun, or that one time she was almost kidnapped. She’d felt afraid before, numerous times, but she was still convinced that she felt better than she did now. She was almost nauseous she was so on edge, and she wasn’t sure what she could do to remedy this. She sighs heavily as she looks at her reflection with a grimace. She’s already dressed and nearly ready to go, but she can’t bring herself to leave the room she’s in. 

She’s trying to remain calm and breathe deeply in and out so she doesn’t have a panic attack. She should be happy, which she is, she’s honestly thrilled but she’s also terrified. She doesn’t want anything to go wrong today, and she needs you to not change your mind. You’ve only told her countless of times that you’re not going anywhere, but there’s still a quiet voice in the back of her mind that’s telling her you’re going to run because it’s all too much. 

She’s still trying to push down her anxiety so it doesn’t overwhelm her when there’s a knock on the door. It echoes around the room causing Wanda to jump in surprise. She curses under her breath before turning to see who it is. The door doesn’t open though and she frowns in confusion. 

“Come in.” 

There’s a laugh from the other side of the door, and Wanda feels her heart start to race at the sound of your voice. 

“I don’t think I’m allowed, but I just wanted to stop by real quick.” 

Wanda’s already walking toward the door before you even finish your sentence, and she has to stop herself from throwing it open so she can see you. She puts a hand on the door with a sigh, trying to center herself before she speaks.

“You’re probably not, but it’s good to hear your voice.” 

She can’t see it, but you smile widely as you move so close to the door that your face is practically pressed against it. You sigh in defeat because you’d love to see Wanda right now, despite having a scheduled meeting in just under an hour. You can’t help but wonder how she’ll look, but you push this thought aside to address the real reason why you stopped by. You know it’s tradition, and Wanda wanted to follow it, but you wish you could have seen her last night to reassure her about today. You know how anxious she can get, and you hate the idea of her stressing herself out on what’s supposed to be a happy day. You tap on the door again to make sure that you still have her attention before speaking. 

“You too. Now I need to go get ready, but I just wanted to let you know that I’m really looking forward to being your wife.” 

A wide smile breaks across Wanda’s face and she feels her desire to open the door increase tenfold. She reaches down to rearrange her dress as a distraction and she suddenly feels her eyes start to tear up. She can’t stop the sniffle that escapes her, and you frown at the sound that you caused. You curse yourself before testing the door and opening it just a crack. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry.” 

You stick your hand through the door and then your arm as you force yourself to close your eyes. You reach out blindly behind the door and smile when you feel Wanda’s hand grab yours. You resist the urge to push the door open and pull her into a hug as you squeeze her hands reassuringly when she responds tearfully. 

“It’s okay. I’m looking forward to it too, Y/n.”

You need to leave soon because you’re not even close to ready, but you can’t leave until you’re certain that your fiancée is feeling better. 

“I’m very impatient so I’m going to leave so we can get this show on the road. I love you so much, okay?” 

Wanda kisses your hand before reluctantly releasing it so you can go get changed. She can’t wait to see you all dressed up in whatever it is you chose. The two of you had kept your outfits a secret because you wanted it to be a surprise. You both however had regretted this multiple times over the past couple of days because the anticipation was near killing you both. 

“I love you too, detka. I’ll see you soon.” 

When you finally leave, you near run to your dressing room. Nat and Yelena had arrived with your outfit a while ago and they were blowing up your phone. You are going to be cutting it close, but you’re determined to be on time so you can watch your beautiful fiancée walk down the aisle. Pietro should be dropping in soon to keep Wanda company, so you don’t have to worry about her being alone for too much longer.

You check your watch again before picking up the pace. You have half an hour to get ready. Half an hour until you’re going to marry the love of your life. You’re still smiling dopily when you arrive to Nat and Yelena glaring at you as the latter practically throws your clothes at you. 

“You’re late.”

You hold your hands up in surrender as you nod in agreement. You are very late, but in your defense, you had a very good reason to be. You have a feeling neither sister will care, but that’s fine as long as they still help you get ready. You’re already starting to take off your hoodie as you reach out to catch your clothes.

“I know, I know. I was just stopping by my almost-wife’s room for a chat. Ow!”

The next 20 minutes are a whirlwind as you hurry to get dressed and fix your hair. You glance at your watch before taking it off and checking your reflection one more time before heading for the door.

“You look good, kid.”

You smile at the pair and hug them both before you thank them again for helping you on such an important day.

“Thanks you two. I really appreciate this. I’m so nervous, but don’t tell anyone!” 

They laugh at you and Nat fixes a wayward strand of hair as Yelena rolls her eyes with a smile. She’s glad to hear that you’re nervous because despite being confident and oh-so-ready to marry Wanda, the fact that you’re nervous means that you care, and that’s one of the most important things.

“Fine, we’ll keep your secret. Just this once.”

Wanda finally feels ready and she can’t help but smile as she turns to her brother. He’s uncharacteristically quiet as he stands up and smiles at his sister. She looks beautiful and so happy despite the obvious undercurrent of nerves, and Pietro’s grateful that she’s getting to marry the love of her life. This isn’t something that he ever thought either of them would be doing. His sister more so just because of how deeply suspicious and pessimistic she was before meeting you. It’s amazing to see how much she’s changed since you came into her life, and Pietro reminds himself to tell you how much he appreciates you once all of the official business is over.

“You look wonderful, sestra. Y/n is going to straight up cry when she sees you.”

Wanda blushes but doesn’t protest as she reaches out to hug her brother carefully. The dress is in the way and in order to avoid stepping on it, Pietro keeps his distance for a slightly awkward hug. Wanda doesn’t mind though, she’s just glad that he’s here with her today. She would have loved to have her parents be present, but having her brother walk her down the aisle was something that she wouldn’t trade for the world.

She smirks slightly as she grabs her brother’s arm and heads for the door. It’s time.

“Is it bad if I’m kind of hoping for it?”

Pietro laughs but shakes his head as he leads his sister to the room where she’ll officially become tied to you for the rest of your lives.

“Not at all.”

You’re nearly sweating as you wait at the altar for your fiancée to arrive. Nat and Yelena are the maids of honor and they’re standing beside you, and Steve and Bucky are the ‘groomsmen’. The only people at the wedding are also in it, so there are a total of 8 people present, including the officiant who’s been paid a hefty sum to pretend a majority of you aren’t wanted criminals.

“I’m freaking out. What if she doesn’t show?”

You mutter this under your breath but Nat hears it and rolls her eyes before looking to the end of the aisle where the doors are still closed. She knows that Wanda will walk through those doors in a matter of seconds, but it isn’t soon enough for any of them.

“Yeah right, kid. Pietro’s going to have to keep her from running to you.”

You don’t get to argue as music starts to play and you stand up straighter in anticipation. You’ve heard this song numerous times, too many honestly in movies and on TV, but you never thought you’d be hearing it at your own wedding. It’s surreal and this feeling is immediately upgraded to transcendent when the doors at the other side of the room open and you see Wanda standing there with her brother. You can’t help but stare at her as she takes her first steps towards you. 

She looks ethereal and you don’t even try to hold back tears as you smile widely at your amazing fiancée. You wipe your eyes trying not to think about Yelena’s snarky remark about waterproof makeup as Wanda makes eye contact with you and smiles softly. You smile back and resist the urge to usher her toward you in hopes that she’ll walk faster. You want to marry her already, but you also don’t want to rob yourself of the opportunity to see her walking toward you in all of her glory. 

Her dress is magnificent, and you’re glad that Wanda wouldn’t tell you anything about it. It’s nothing like what you expected, but you loved it. It flattered Wanda in ways you didn’t think clothing was capable of, and the way her hair was styled half-up to still frame her face made you swoon. She was perfect. You were the luckiest woman alive, and no one could convince you otherwise.

When she came to a stop in front of you, there’s not much you can hear other than your heart beating violently. You’re hoping your hands aren’t sweaty as you reach out to grab Wanda’s after she passes her bouquet that you just noticed she was holding to Nat. You squeeze her hands gently before leaning in to kiss her. She moves back a little and that’s all you need to remember that you’re jumping the gun a bit. 

“Not yet, detka.”

You laugh slightly and blush at your mistake that you’re certain you’ll be teased about later. You can’t help it though. You clear your throat before nodding and kissing Wanda’s hand because that’s allowed right? 

“I’m sorry. You look incredible, my love.”

You hear someone else clearing their throat and turn to see Pietro standing nearby. You had only registered his presence for about three seconds after the door opened, then you’d honestly forgotten he was there.

“Everybody ready?”

You smile widely before turning back to Wanda who looks just as excited as you are. She’s looking you over and you can’t help but hope that she likes what you chose to wear. You’d given nothing away in hopes of surprising her, but seeing her smile and the way her gaze lingered made you realize you chose well.

You honestly didn’t hear much of what the officiant said. You were mostly focused on Wanda, and it wasn’t until the ‘both Y/n and Wanda have decided to write their own vows’ that you checked back in. 

You had told Wanda that she should go first and you watch as she takes a deep breath before playing with your intertwined hands a little. 

“Y/n, when I first met you, I was not prepared to meet anyone that day that left a good impression. I knew immediately that you were strong, quirky, and a little bit of a klutz. I remember leaving you after that first conversation wondering what I had done right in life to get the chance to meet you. You were and still are my favorite person. You’re always kind, dedicated, and you love with your whole heart. I always feel safe with you, and you’ve never failed to be there for me when I’ve needed you most. I can’t even begin to thank you for everything that you’ve done for me over the years. You’ve taught me about the good that can come from loving people, and animals, and I can’t wait to see what our future holds. I love you more than I thought I could ever love anyone, and I hope you know you’re officially stuck with me.”

You are grateful for your future brother-in-law’s presence because as soon as he hears you sniffling pitifully in the middle of Wanda’s vows, he hands you a handkerchief that you quickly accept. You wipe your eyes before trying to calm down and keep what little remains of you cool. You clear your throat and stuff the slightly damp handkerchief in your pocket before taking Wanda’s hands again. You see that she’s a little calmer now that she’s said her part, and you swallow your nerves as you say yours.

“Wanda Maximoff. I knew within 2 months of being in a relationship that I wanted to marry you. I never told anyone this, but in that short time I’d already known about what you did for a living because you weren’t the best at locking your phone. However, that didn’t matter because nothing could scare me off, and I’m so glad for that. In the time we’ve been together you’ve taught me so many things. You’ve taught me open-mindedness toward the unfamiliar, patience in all aspects of life and gratitude for the time we get to spend together. I know it’s wasn’t your favorite thing, but the time we first watched Halloween together, during those first months, I knew you were the one. I’m sure you hated every second of it, but you’d wanted to make me happy, and I loved you for it. You always think of others before yourself and you are far kinder than anyone gives you credit for. You’ve made me a better, happier person just by being in my life, and I want you with me always. Now I could go on for longer, but everyone would get antsy, and anyway, I plan on spending the rest of my life telling you all the many reasons why I love you."

You look behind you to Pietro who holds out the rings to you with a smile. You thank him before turning back to your bride to put her wedding band on her finger. She’s smiling the entire time and you hand her yours so she can put it on. Once this is done you both just stare at your intertwined hands for a moment and let it sink in. Wanda’s eyes are shining with tears as you look to the officiant for permission to kiss your bride. He smiles before saying to line you’ve honestly been waiting for months to hear.

“By the power invested in me by the state of Colorado, I pronounce you married. You may kiss your bride.”

You both are already leaning in when he says ‘kiss’ and you’re well on your way by the end of the sentence. Your hands move to Wanda’s hips and you’re so happy you can’t stand it. You hold her tightly as she wraps her arms around your neck as you continue kissing. You don’t hear your friends cheering or Pietro’s wolf whistle. All that matters to you in that moment is that you’ve finally made it. You’re married to the love of your life.

You pull away for only a second so you can look at your stunning wife again with a smile.

“I love you, Wanda, my beautiful wife.”

Wanda smiles widely and tears are falling more freely now as she nods in agreement. You wipe her eyes, careful not to mess up her makeup, before you kiss her again. She runs her hands down your shoulders and to your waist before breaking away with a sigh. 

“I love you too. I’m so happy, Y/n.”

She watches you smile in agreement before you take her left hand and kiss it. She wonders how she got this lucky to find someone like you. How she managed to keep you by her side after the hell she’s put you through, she’ll never know. You deserve the world for what you’ve done for her, and Wanda fully intends to give it to you. Wanda kisses your hand too before you lead her off the altar and towards your friends. 

You two are officially married, and neither of you have ever been happier.

Taglist:@exclusivitymajor

Masterlist

[middlechild404]

Learning anatomy

Summary: you have a lot of studying to do. Jack decides to help you.

__________________________________________

I was drowning in assignments and presentations this period, and on top of all of that, I had an anatomy exam coming up in two days. So for the time being I had set aside my other studies just to make sure that I passed this test. Even though I was confident that I would pass with a high grade, although, my confidence was overruled by the anxiety in the pit of my stomach that would linger until the moment I was done with the test.

I was frantically using my flashcards as I felt a strong headache creeping in from the amount of information that I needed to cramp up in my brain. I wasn't going to let a headache stop me from studying. Hence, I needed to make my remedy for headaches, which was a green tea mixed with mango and lychee, or so I liked to call it- pure heaven.

As I started the water boiler, my phone chimed. I immediately picked it up hoping that it would be Jack. We have been friends for a while now but at some point I started to develop feelings for him. Ever since then, I haven't been able to get him out of my mind and I keep second-guessing his intentions when doing things, hoping that he somehow reciprocates the feelings I have for him.

To my dismay, it was my lab partners. I answered their questions quickly and put down my phone right after turning off the sound.

I began to rationalize with myself that waiting for him to text was ridiculous and that I'd been tricking myself into liking him all along. I kept thinking that I should focus on my studies instead of a guy that doesn't even like me. But, all those thoughts went out the window the second my phone vibrated on the counter.

"Eyoo, I'm in the neighborhood. I'll be swinging by soon."- Jack wrote

I kept writing and rewriting a response, lastly, I settled for what would be best.

"It's probably best if you don't, I really need to study. Have a test coming up soon :(" I typed and hit send.

I could see the bubbles appearing instantly, not many seconds later he responded.

"No worries, we can work together. I need to finish a track anyway, so I can do that while you study."

My stomach did somersaults at his response. I quickly went to the mirror to make myself look at least half decent. My skin looked dull in the absence of makeup, so I tapped my cheeks a few times to give myself a rosy look.

The taps on my cheeks were unnecessary as I was completely flushed at the sight of Jack in gray sweatpants only a few minutes later when he entered my apartment.

I wanted to say something after we greeted each other but he stopped me from forming a sentence. "Shhh, just pretend I'm not here. I don't want to get in the way of your studying" he said as he placed himself on my couch.

To that, I rolled my eyes. "I wanted to ask if you wanted some tea, but nevermind" I said with a smirk on my face.

"Smartass" he smirked back. "I would actually love some of that tea you refer to as heaven"

I walked quickly into the kitchen and then back with two cups in my hands. Jack had already started his work as he had his headphones on and was typing rapidly on his computer. He simply acknowledged me with a "thank you" as I placed his cup on the table, then returned to his typing.

I admired how focused he was when it came to his work. I caught myself staring for a few seconds, which made me avert my gaze. I picked up my flashcards and started to memorize all the different bones in the body.

After two hours of studying, I finally took a break. I quickly looked at Jack who was still typing away on his computer, I didn't want to interrupt him so I just sat there playing with my flashcards in silence.

It didn't take long for my intrusive thoughts to appear. Am I going to be able to do this? Am I smart enough? Why am I even doing this? Will I be able to have a good career? Am I good enough? And the thoughts went on, chipping away at my confidence.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I hadn't heard Jack speaking to me. He caught my attention as he simply put his hand on my arm.

"Hey, where did you go?" He asked with a concerned look on his face.

I was contemplating if I would be honest or not and simply say that everything was fine. I didn't want to start a conversation about how I doubted myself and keeping him from his job.

He understood that I was having an argument with myself as the silence was long due. To this, he placed his computer on the table along with his headphones and turned himself toward me. He brought his leg up as a barrier between us as he made himself comfortable for some deep talk.

"Come on, spill. You know you can talk to me." Jack said as he sipped on his second cup of tea.

"I don't know, sometimes I get these thoughts that I'm not good enough…I don't even know why I'm majoring in this anyway, I lost my motivation somewhere along the way." I said embarrassed while looking down on my lap as I played with the fuzz on my sweatpants.

"Listen, from what I've seen, you're one of the most hardworking people I know. You don't just study to pass, you study because you want to be good at what you do." He said reassuringly. He continued before I could give a response "That definitely means you're good enough, and sometimes also a bit of an overachiever." He said with a grin, to which he received a playful punch on his arm.

"As for motivation, you will lose it a million times over in your journey, but that doesn't mean you won't be able to get it back. You just need to find new ways to motivate yourself." He said supportively.

I was always awkward in these moments since I had a hard time receiving any kind of praise. This resulted in me giving him an awkward smile along with verbal gratitude as my heart was beating out of my chest.

It felt like the world stopped spinning when he kept staring at me. Nothing happened until his handsome face lit up, which meant that he had an idea. I felt a bit anxious about what he would do next, due to his ideas not always being the best.

"I have an idea of how we can motivate you for your studies." He blurted as he grabbed my flashcards. "How about I help you revise." He said with a glint of mischief in his eyes.

"Don't you have work to do?" I asked, not really wanting to take his time.

"I was done a while ago, I was waiting for you to take a break." He responded as he shifted closer to me.

"Oh well, okay I guess. Those flashcards are only bones of the upper body" I retorted while pointing at the blue deck of cards in his big hands.

"Okay, good good." He said with a smile on his face.

He quickly went through the flashcards, seeing that they were in order going from the lowest part of the upper body to the head.

He picked up my hand and gave the tip of my finger a kiss. My mind went wild at this action, it showed on my cheeks as they swiftly turned bright red.

"What's this bone called?" He asked me with a smirk on his face, he was content with the reaction I had given him.

I struggled to get a word out as I said "Ehh, distal phalanx".

"Correct, and now in Latin." He responded proudly while kissing my fingertip again.

"Os phalangeum distale manus" I answered unsurely.

"Correct!" He exclaimed as I received another kiss.

He kept doing this procedure all the way up to my collarbone. He stopped as he realized our close proximity, waiting for me to protest. Since I didn't, he continued.

He stopped later when I had received kisses all over my head, not knowing that he had missed one bone. My cheekbone.

"You missed one." I mumbled, not wanting to sound like I was asking for it.

He quickly looked through the cards and gave himself a nod when he saw which one it was. He immediately kissed me on my cheekbone and asked which bone it was.

"The zygomatic bone, or os zygomaticum in Latin." I said correctly. "Uuughh, finally done." I added, knowing that we had gone through the whole deck.

He didn't back away too far from my face, as I kept feeling his breath on my cheek. "One last question, what's this bone called?" he asked while putting his thumb on my lip.

"There are no bones in the lip." I answered confused at his question.

"Smartass, you've gotten everything right. I think you need to get a reward." He said right before crashing his lips on mine.

I couldn't believe what was happening, my mind was in a frenzy as he put his fingers through my hair and our bodies impossibly closer.

We broke the kiss to regain our breath, or for me- my sanity. I'd been dreaming about this for the longest time and it was even better than I'd ever imagined.

"What do you say about taking a break to have some… fun. Or how about studying the lower body now." He smirked and gave me a wink.

I didn't want to waste any time, therefore I immediately crashed my lips on his as I straddled him and let my fingers play with his soft hair.

__________________________________________

Hope you liked this one loviiieess ❤️

It was supposed to be a short one but got a bit carried away😅

Taglist: @jackharloww, @j-worlds-blog @itsyagirljaz, @harlowcomehome, @neon-lights-and-glitter

[bhaalbaaby]

Title: Happiness in the Wrong Place (5078 words) Pairing: the dark urge/tav Warnings: dom/sub, original characters, pre-BG3, tiefling smut (hornjobs and tail stimulation), safe sex, explicit consent and rules A/N: friend fiction but it's me smashing Penelope against my friend's durge 🥺

Read on AO3 or Wattpad!

Penelope stares across the sea, the small waves lapping on the soft sand. She doesn't think such beauty exists in Baldur's Gate, but Kaine surprises her. She runs her fingers through her wet hair. She glances over her shoulder, clenching her teeth to stop her body from shivering. Kaine could remedy this affliction quickly. Tieflings do run hot. Her tail twitches as she walks towards the cottage, her arms wrapped around her sides.

"How did you find this place?" She asks when she sees him. She keeps her eyes on his face, ignoring his shirtless body. Kaine shrugs, a cheeky smile crossing his lips. "Exploring. You're welcome to come back to visit any time."

Penelope laughs, rolling her eyes as she takes one of the towels on the chair, and starts to dry her hair. His stare lingers starting with her eyes, her lips, lowering to the dress that clings to her full figure, her hard nipples poking through. She turns away slightly, her cheeks heating. Someone's stare rarely makes her nervous. "Thank you for the invitation," She says as she wraps the towel around her shoulders. She turns back around, her bright eyes searching his face for his true intentions.

"Of course," His smile is softer and she feels a caress on her tail. His hands are in front of him as he steps closer. Tail holding? Her heart skips beats. She feels so dumb as she returns the smile. Her only chances at this are only with her best friend Rhol and before that was her mother. Their tails intertwine, his tail cautious as it guides her closer. 

She clears her throat, laughing to herself. "If you wish to say something, you may speak your mind, Mr. Kaine." She's beside herself as she looks him over. The scars on his body show he's lived a life while the Tiefling marks reveal he's just like her. She runs her fingers over the raised skin and bone under his chest. It's rigged, the skin taut. She can feel his heartbeat beneath, quickening as she gets closer to the center of his chest. His tail slips higher, gently pushing up at the end of the short hem of her dress.

"You'll get a cold if you keep this on," Kaine finally says, resting his hands on her hips. Penelope rolls her eyes, letting her hands rest on his chest. "You just want me naked," She teases, slipping her tail from his grasp.

He smirks, "That's another perk." She steps away from his grasp.

"I suppose you're right though. I won't be any good if I'm sick." She doesn't see the slight dip of his eyebrows as she undoes her damp dress, letting it fall to the floor. She shivers, pulling her towel lower over her wet skin.

"If you get sick, you may blame me for not telling you we'd go for a swim ahead of time," Kaine says, stepping closer, his hands warm on her arms. She imagines they'll be warm on other places of her body as she glances up at him.

"You're sweet." She murmurs before resting her head on his chest. In another life, this could have been her reality, safe in someone's arms, not playing pretend for however much he paid. She waits for him to hug her, his arms slipping back to her waist and hips, but never pulling her closer.

"We can pretend here," She says as she pulls away, testing him. "We're no longer our titles and jobs. Within these walls at least." She adds the last part with a small eye roll. "Just Penelope and Kaine." He raises his eyebrow, his fingers still on her waist, kneading the towel. "Is that alright with you?" She asks, standing on her tiptoes, her mind with visions to kiss him.

He nods slowly, her tail tracing the curvature of his. "If that is what you wish." He tilts her head towards his, "Your wish is my command, Penelope."

She laughs, the anxiety taking over again. "I wish all clients were like you."

He pauses before laughing along. "We're supposed to be forgetting about those things," He reminds her.

Penelope scrunches up her nose, her arms wrapping around his neck. "Good thing you're here to remind me," She says as their lips brush. She inhales a shaky breath as she looks into his eyes. "You make me nervous," She confesses before burying her face in his neck. He hesitates again, she can feel it as his hands twitch on her sides.

"Nervous?" He asks, concern lacing his tone.

"Mmm," She hums in reply, pressing her lips on his neck.

Kaine takes a deep breath as he pulls her closer finally. "Why?" He asks, his fingers running up her spine and the bone spikes above them. She shrugs, deciding to focus on her mark. She opens her mouth slightly letting his hot skin in as she sucks, her teeth grazing the skin. His hand makes it to the nape of her neck, his fingers knitting in her hair as he gently pulls her from his neck. She moans involuntarily from the hair pulling, resting back on the soles of her feet. "We should put rules down if we should continue as Kaine and Penelope," He states, her impatience growing.

"Rules are made to be broken." She says with a small cackle, but he keeps her still in his grasp.

He continues, ignoring her small squirms in his arms. "One, if I cross a line or if you cross a line, we must let each other know." She relaxes as she nods. If only they all had rules as simple as that. "Two, since we're pretending, we won't refer to the realm outside of here." She would break that rule easily, but she nods as he massages her scalp. "Three, we are free here. You can speak your mind."

She smirks as she nods again. "Are those all the rules?" Penelope asks, dragging her nails across his sharp trapezius. Kaine nods as he lets her hair go, letting her sink back into his arms. "I think you're wearing too many clothes." She whispers against his neck as she drags her fingers down his back, enjoying the way the ridges feel against her fingers.

"Then so are you," He replies, picking her up.

"I'm just in my towel," Penelope says, trying to keep her giggles from bubbling up.

"Too much," Kaine repeats before pressing his lips against hers, giving in to temptation.

Her fingers get lost in Kaine's hair as he carries her to the bedroom, their lips crashing against each other. She drags her teeth along his bottom lip as he rests her on the soft bed. He pulls away, carefully pulling her towel free. Her breathing quickens as the towel loosens, slipping to her sides. She's been naked so many times before people so why is he different? He leans down, kissing her softly, as he tugs the towel from underneath her, throwing it on the floor. Her hands rest on his cheeks and jaw as she deepens the kiss, her tongue exploring his mouth. He breaks the kiss, making a trail of kisses on her jaw neck, and collarbone.

"You're still wearing too much." Penelope whines, feeling his warm breath on her breasts.

"Patience." He whispers before taking her breast in his mouth.

She squirms under him, her fingers finding a home in his dark hair again as his tongue rolls around her nipple. He groans, grinding against her. She closes her eyes, feeling him hard pressed on her thighs. He moves to the other one, repeating the same torture. His hand massages her chest, his tail running along her shins.

"Kaine..." She moans, frustration building. He holds himself above her as she says his name, "Are you alright?" She nods swallowing hard. "What about you?" She asks, letting her hands slip into his damp trousers. He growls as he leans back down, kissing her hard as her hand rubs along his hard-on.

"We'll get there." He says finally, this time pressing kisses down her sternum and stomach until he slips out of her reach, resting between her thighs. Enver would never. She sits up on her elbows as she watches, his lips pressing kisses on her soft thighs.

"Are you sure?" She asks, her tail rubbing his shoulder. His dark eyes cut to her face. Suddenly she's his prey and he's ready to pounce. "Very." He states, spreading her legs. "You will get your chance to please me, Pen... That I can promise." He says, as his eyes soften, kissing her lower stomach. 

She keeps her legs spread as he buries his mouth between her thighs, his tongue lithe against her folds. She slowly lies on her back arching her back, her hips pressing against his mouth. Penelope the whore would moan loudly, tell him how perfect he is, the best she's ever had. He would enjoy that she bets as she moans softly, her fingers running through her wet hair as she sighs. Penelope the woman closes her eyes, letting the sensations run through her, a shiver running up her back as he suckles on her clit.

Gods above.

She tries not to close her legs around his head as she writhes, her tail a giveaway of how she feels as it tenses, wrapping around his forearm. She covers her face as she breathes hard through her mouth, cursing. He pulls away, chuckling as he looks at her tail.

"More?" He cheekily inquires as he kisses her thigh, grazing her skin with his sharp teeth. She tenses as she whispers yes. His fingers prod her open as he tuts, "I can't hear you."

Penelope rolls her eyes, glad they were hidden by her arms as she laughs breathlessly. "Yes please."

His finger curls up as he thrusts, his mouth returning. She bites her lip as heat sweeps her skin. She should be paying him. She rocks her hips with his finger, the action bringing her closer to the edge. "I... I don't want to come yet." She whines, sitting up. Kaine pulls away, his eyebrows raised. "I-Alright." He sits up, holding her face between his fingers. "Why not?" He asks amused. She doesn't answer right away, tugging his pants down. "Because I won't have energy for you." She lies, punctuating her spaces with quick pecks on his lips.

Kaine sighs as he lets her take over. She settles back into her old ways, a seductive smile on her lips, wrapping her hands around his cock, pumping him. His breathing catches in his throat as she kisses his neck, sinking her teeth into his skin. He growls as his hands find her hair, pulling her back. "Too hard, dear." He says with a small chuckle.

"Too hard?" She asks as she slides out of his grip. He stands straighter as she lies on her stomach, her eyes on his cock, more bumps and ridges. For a moment she wonders if it'll hurt, but she pushes the thoughts away, running her tongue from his base to tip. She relishes in his groan as she sucks on his tip, his hand resting on her horn. He curses under his breath as she slowly takes him down her throat, more with each bob. It's easy for her to get lost in the action, so many of these she's given. She glances up at him as she rests his tip on her tongue before swallowing him again. Her fingers run up and down his hips as she throats him, gagging as he fills her mouth.

She pulls back, her eyes dazed. "Use me however you like," She purrs as she strokes him, perking up with a smile. He grips her horn, making up look up at him. "Is that what you want?" He asks, his jaw clenching as she still strokes him.

"Yes." She says, opening her mouth. "I want you to use me."

He raises his eyebrow as he leans down, his fingers returning between her thighs as his other holds her tail up and out of the way. She gasps, her hips seizing up. "Continue," He commands as she whimpers. "Yes sir." She says quickly, returning his cock to her mouth as he fingers her hard. He would force her hand whether he realized it or not. She closes her eyes as she moans around him. A whole weekend of this? She doesn't think she'll survive. Rule number four, plenty of breaks, Penelope thinks as he presses his hips against her mouth, his tip twitching and wet with saliva and precum.

His fingers pound into her, forcing her up on her knees as she tries to take it, the heat spreading throughout her body. She pulls her mouth off him, burying her face into the covers, clenching around his fingers. He laughs softly as she pants. "Ah, so you weren't lying," He teases as he removes his fingers. She curses him as he goes to his discarded pants pulling out a condom. She's secretly grateful as she pushes her ass back feeling him climb on the bed behind her.

"Please fuck me," She whines as his hands rest on her ass, slowly guiding her back. "If you promise not to come so quickly," Kaine replies, his fingertips playing with the base of her tail. She shivers, glad the covers hide her face. "I'm so close, Kaine." She confesses, shaking her head. She usually fakes it for her clients except for the rare times they catch her off guard like now.

He slowly thrusts, stretching her quivering hole. Their moans mix as he leans down, wrapping his hand around her neck as he pulls her up, pounding into her. She closes her eyes as he holds her against his body, their bodies moving in perfect rhythm with each other. His other hand returns between her thighs, rubbing her swollen clit. His teeth drag along her earlobe, his tongue teasing the sensitive skin. "You're doing such a good job, Penelope." He whispers as her stomach flips. She doesn't know how much more she can take, their bodies hot and sticky with sweat. She turns her head, sloppily kissing him as she presses her ass back against him. His hand slides up her stomach, keeping her pressed against him until he reaches her breasts, massaging the mound. His hand on her neck holds her face against his.

"You're going to make a mess," He says as he pulls away, her walls clenching around him. She falls forward, gripping the covers.

"Harder, please." She begs, her makeup smudging on the blanket. His fingers dig into her hips as he follows her wish, their skin reverberating each time their skin meets. Her tail runs along his chest, and neck as he pounds her, their moans filling the room. He leans down, pressing kisses up her back, until he sucks on the skin on her neck, grinding his hips, her squeals increasing in volume.

He pulls out, patting her legs. "I want to see your face as you come." He growls as he helps her roll to her back.

"I have an ugly orgasm face," Penelope lies as she whines, wrapping her legs around his waist.

"Liar," He whispers as he thrusts back in, holding his hips flush with hers.

Penelope whimpers, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as she brings his face closer to hers, her bright eyes shining. Their noses press against each other, their pants becoming one as he picks up his pace. Her legs squeeze tighter around his waist, her heels digging into the back of his thighs. He presses his lips against hers eliciting a soft moan from her lips as he gently grabs her arms from around him, pinning her wrists down on the bed. His tongue rolls with hers, grunting as he bottoms out. She pulls away, writhing.

"Like that?" He asks as she rocks her hips with him, letting him fuck her deeper. She nods frantically as she tries to escape his restraints. He carefully presses his head against her jaw, his torso holding her down to keep her from squirming. Imagine if all of her clients got her this excited... Another flush of heat covers her skin making her shiver. His teeth are a pleasant surprise as he nips her collarbone. She glances down at him as he sucks on the skin. Leaving his marks. She mewls as he comes back to her mouth, capturing it with his. She's getting closer with each thrust. Their eyes lock as he rests his forehead against hers, his grip sliding from her wrists to her hands. Interlacing their fingers feels more intimate than fucking in this bed, but Penelope allows it, gently squeezing his hands. Their lips meet momentarily, kisses as necessary as breathing.

"Kaine..." She whines against his mouth, her hips bearing down on the bed as his cock makes his claim with each thrust.

"Say it," He growls, letting go of her hand as he rests on her jawline, making her look at him. She flares in nostrils in defiance, looking away. His lips find her earlobe, soft wet kisses and licks making new goosebumps flash her skin, not helping stave off the pending orgasm. "You must ask for it," Kaine whispers as she clenches his cock.

She turns her head to face him again, her free hand resting on his jaw, his dark tattoos. "No," Penelope manages to say as she trembles, her resolve crumbling.

"No?" He repeats, the question punctuated by his sharp strokes. She nods as she sticks to her answer. He rolls his eyes, his red eye glowing as he sits up. She can tell he wants to retort, but instead, his hands leave her neck and hand, going to her hips. She curses as he uses the new angle as leverage, rolling his hips. She won't give in, not yet. He watches as her soft body bounces with each pound, her breasts knocking into each other. He lets go of her hips, dragging a hand between her thighs as he rubs her swelling clit. Her legs quickly unwrap from his waist, squeezing around his wrist. He smirks as her moans catch in her throat.

"Don't do it," Kaine whispers, her skin flushing with each stroke. There's only so much she can take. She sits up on her elbows as she glances up at him, her mouth open as she pants, gripping the covers hard.

"Gods, yes!" She lifts her leg, resting it on his shoulder as she tenses up, wetness and the hottest heat rushing her body, focusing on the culprit between her thighs. She feels his mouth on her heel, his hand on her thighs as he keeps her in place as she tries to run away from him, it is all too much.

He's irritated when her orgasm fades, slowing down. Her breathing is loud and ragged, and she rests her head back on the bed. He pulls out, shaking his head. "You were supposed to ask," Kaine admonishes, dragging her hips to the edge of the bed.

"I didn't want to," Penelope replies breathlessly, laughing.

"No remorse for your actions?" He asks, his hand covering still recovering cunt.

She sits up and shakes her head. "No sir," Her eyebrow quirks up, unafraid of whatever he has planned for her. His hand is hard and firm against her folds, a shocked gasp escaping her lips. Oh. It's a test she realizes as he waits before spanking her again. She gives him a consenting nod as he continues, her red skin blushing with each strike. She swallows hard as she cries out, trying to keep her legs open becoming a chore. Pleasure jolts to her brain, the hard spanks on her overstimulated clit and delicate folds making her spasm. After the tenth strike, he stops.

"Beg for forgiveness." She clenches her jaw as he lets go of her leg, stepping back. He looks painfully hard waiting for her to disobey him.

"I didn't do anything wrong," She teases, as she sits up, her eyes flicking to his face to his cock.

He rolls his eyes as he removes the condom, tossing it in the bin. "Didn't do anything wrong... On your knees, now." Penelope's legs barely can follow that order as she slips down, following his order.

"Do you boss people around often?" She asks him as he steps closer.

Kaine chuckles as he brings his hips to her naughty mouth. "Rule number two." She rolls her eyes as she lets him fuck her mouth, his fingers interlacing with her hair and gripping her horn. 

Her tongue rests flat against the bottom of his shaft as he pleases himself between her lips. She moans as he fills her to the brim, tears pricking her eyes. She can vaguely taste herself around him as he grunts. He holds his hips against her mouth, her nose pressed against his lower stomach and dark hair above his cock. He rocks his hips gently as she gags. He pulls himself out, squatting in front of her, his grip on her horn tight as he forces her to stare at him.

"Ready to apologize?" Kaine asks, taking in the wet sight of her mouth and saliva that drips down her chin and chest.

She smiles sweetly, "No."

He forces her up to her feet, holding her head just out of reach for much-needed kisses. He turns her around, leading her to the dresser. "Hold on. Do not let go," Kaine instructs, gently caressing her hips, his hands leading up to her hands as she obeys. His hands are warm on her skin as she holds the edge of the mahogany dresser. He pushes her long magenta hair to the side, kissing her exposed shoulder.

"Are you just going to fuck me into submission?" Penelope asks, her eyes cutting to him as she feels his teeth graze the sensitive top skin of her shoulder.

"Is that what you want?" He asks as he lifts his head, her tail caressing his legs.

"I wouldn't mind it," She giggles, his hands leaving hers and finding her breasts.

"I want fuck you until your legs can barely hold your weight until you only crave my cock." He tugs on her nipples, ignoring her soft moans and the way she grinds against him. "You will beg for relief, yes beg..." He laughs as she makes a face.

"Never..." She purrs as he leans back, another condom. She smiles as she watches him ready himself. "You don't have to. I'm covered." She says softly. His eyes flick up to her face, the sorrow behind his eyes.

"More for myself." He replies quietly. She wonders what he means by that, the question is short-lived as he returns, aligning himself with her. "You may want to obey this time." He says with a chuckle as she stands on her tiptoes, the dresser digging into her stomach.

"Why?" She whines, her brows furrowing as she tries to stare up at him.

"Because I do not like being spurned." She rolls her eyes, panting as his strokes are long and hard, keeping her in place. "Get... used to it..." She says in between moans, her fingers digging into the wood.

His fingers dig into her hips, bringing her back hard against him. He can see her struggle with each thrust, her toes barely touching the ground as he picks his pace. Her palms are slick with sweat as she tries her best to keep hold of the dresser, the corners digging into her hands.

"You can fuck me harder than that." Penelope goads, watching him from the corner of her eye, panting. It's hard to maintain her bratty facade, but she won't give up. His left-hand leaves her hip, coming up to her neck, slender fingers turning her head to face him. His index plays with her full lips as she sucks on the digit.

"You won't be able to handle it," He growls in her ear. She steels herself from another wave of shivers, her pink eyes round as she looks up at him.

"I'm a good girl. I can handle it," She whimpers as he rubs his wet finger around her lips before inserting it back.

"Good girl?" His right slips between her thighs, rubbing her clit as he pounds into her. She squeezes her legs together around his wrist, her feet off the floor. He holds her up with his thrusts, pushing her further over the dresser. Her mouth hangs open as she cries out, her toes curling.

"Ask me." He whispers in her ear, letting his teeth drag on the dangling skin. Gods help her. She wonders what her punishment would be if she defies him again. Another spanking? She could handle it. Anal? Easy. He lets go of her neck, returning his hand to her hips as she starts slipping.

"Stand." He commands, slowing down so she can get her bearings. She leans down, wanting to rest her head on the cool wood, but her breasts get in the way. She grimaces as he pounds her, her toes lifting from the ground again. "Don't." He growls, feeling her tremble under him.

"Please, please, please." The begging slips out before she can stop herself. Disappointment is an understatement, his laugh deep in her ear. "Good girl, Penelope. You can follow orders," Kaine teases. "Please what?" He asks, his fingers between her thighs adding too much friction, his cock filling at just the right angle. She fights the growing pressure in her lower stomach. "Please let me come, please!" She squeals, letting go of the dresser. Kaine pulls out, her moan disappointed as he tsks. "You let go of the dresser, little one." She flares her nostrils as she starts to reach for it again. Kaine is faster, turning her to face him. "But since you asked this time..."

He gets on his knees, his tongue eagerly swiping and finding her clit with ease. She can barely hold herself up, leaning into the dresser as she watches him. She curses as her stomach tenses. His hands rest on her ass, holding her closer to his hungry mouth. "You can come, I want you to," Kaine says in between sucks, her legs so close to giving out. There's antagonistic gnawing in the back of her mind as she gently rubs his horns. He pauses his lapping, dark eyes examining her as she continues to caress his horns. "I want to come with you," She says softly.

He pulls away, raising his eyebrow. "Is that so?"

She nods, their hands clasping as he leads her down to him. He lies back on the ground, guiding her hips to his. "Your wish is my command."

Her hands splay on his chest, the ridges on his chest perfect for her to run her fingers over. She slowly rides him, the angle already too much, his tip nestles too much to the front, pressing against every nerve ending inside of her. "Like that," He whispers as he helps guide her, his fingers resting on her hips.

"Kaine." She glances down at him, her breasts pressed together between her arms. He grunts as she starts to pick up her pace, lifting his hips ever so slightly to fuck her deeper. "Please come with me. Please." She whimpers, leaning back her hands resting on his shins. No more being shy. She is so close, chasing that high. He curses at the new position, taking in her sight as his cock gets buried between her folds.

He sits up, wrapping his arms around her waist, his mouth sucking on her breast, rolling her nipple with his tongue. She wraps her arms around his head, her fingers running along the length of his horn as she cries out. She only has a few more moments before she's putty in his hands. He groans as he takes over the pace, resting his face on her ample chest. "Keep rubbing my horn, please," Kaine whispers in between his moans, her other hand massaging his scalp. She does as he says, her senses awakening as she strokes his dark horn leaning forward, her tongue running along the length. He curses as she clenches around him, his breathing loud and ragged. "Gods below," He moans.

She whimpers. She loves it when she can tell they're close, the way they swell against her cervix, her walls sending shockwaves through her core. Filling her would have sent her over to Selûne she's sure, but she comes anyway, and hard. She tugs his hair, panting as her body spasms along with his. He leans up, kissing her passionately, his skin hot and sweaty. So is hers, but he seems more prominent. She lifts her hips as his now limp cock slips out. She sighs as she sits beside him on the floor, their tails intertwine once more. 

"I..." Penelope hesitates, unsure what to say. What could she say? It's early in the evening where sleep isn't an option, yet. When clients take her out on trips, they would fuck and either sleep or the client would fuck off until it was time for festivities. Kaine is not like that. She slowly gets up and climbs into the bed. Kaine stands, discarding the condom before following after.

"I've never been with another Tiefling," She whispers, making a face.

"You don't know what you're missing out on," Kaine replies, pulling her into an embrace. It feels natural. She regrets what she said earlier. They should keep their boundaries. Blurring them will only cause things to hurt later.

"I know now." She giggles, pecking his lips. Her stomach growls during the silence, embarrassment taking over. "We should probably head back," Penelope says, sitting up, and moving out of his arms.

"Why? Is something wrong?" Kaine asks as she slips from the bed.

"No food." She says, hands on her hips.

Kaine smiles, "There is food in the kitchen. I can cook for us." Another wave of embarrassment takes over as he gets up. "Come on now. Time to feed PenPen." Of course, he knows how to cook, and how to take care of her. She follows him to the kitchen. In another life, this could be their every day, making love and he makes dinner. How alien it feels to her. She hopes she never forgets this feeling.

taglist: @spacebarbarianweird @tragedybunny @astarionsbeloved @thedancingbun @razrogue @celestialomlette @rentheannihilator @rinmoon7

[sigyns-drafts]

Can you do a ror loki and child reader hel needing help taking care of her rotten skin, so they do like skincare? Thank you!!

A/N: Gladly Anon, I absolutely adore these ideas with reader Hel and Loki. Thought I didn't expect RoR! Loki, how interesting~

This is going to be to write about~ <3

A fathers healing touch! 💜💚

➩ In the halls of Asgard, Loki, the god of mischief, found himself facing an unexpected challenge. His youngest daughter, Y/N, had been suffering from a mysterious ailment that caused her skin to rot.

Desperate to help her, Loki was desperate to find a solution, despite his usual penchant for chaos and mischief.

➩ Reader type: Reader!Child Hel and RoR!Loki

⚠: Struggling with skin conditions, rotten skin, single father Loki trying his best! 😭

“Y/N, my dear daughter, fear not. We shall find a remedy for your skin.."

Loki tries his best to reassure Y/N who found herself sobbing uncontrollably. She was panicked, distraught over her condition.

The constant pain, the oils and creams that never seemed to heal her, helping her in the slightest. It was tiring and she had almost lost all hope!

"But father! We tried everything, and nothing seems to work. I fear this rot will consume me.."

Y/N sobbed, about to throw away what the two had been brought to possibly heal her rotten skin. She hated this and herself for being born this way!

But right when she was about to, Loki grabs her wrist gently, never harsh towards her but understanding of her struggles.

She lowers her hand carefully while the girl sobbed, calming down from her fit of blind rage. Loki takes the ointments out of her grasp and makes Y/N face him.

"Nonsense, my child! There is always a solution. I'll travel out to find something, you stay home alright?"

Loki smiles reassuringly at Y/N, wiping away her tears and snot from her round little face, like he had done ever since she was a baby.

His precious little baby.

“Alright.. Please be careful.”

Now filled with the same goal as the previous one. Loki, concerned for his daughter's well-being, decided find help.

He knew he couldn't rely on the traditional remedies the gods used for this issue.

Instead, he had no choice but to venture into Midgard, the realm of humans, in search of a solution.

He hated that it had come to this, that he needed to seek out the humans' remedies instead of the gods.

He almost felt a little ashamed since It was supposed to be the opposite! But he would do anything to help and insure his daughters happiness and health.

Arriving at a bustling marketplace, Loki in disguise stumbled upon a small stall adorned with an array of skincare products.

Intrigued, he approached the vendor, met with an elderly woman who gave him a gentle smile.

"Excuse me, my lady," Loki began, not even trying to sound nice but just to get this over with. He needed to save his daughter!

"My daughter is in dire need of assistance. Her skin has taken a turn for the worse, and I seek a remedy to heal her."

The vendor studied Loki for a moment, the god suddenly feeling anxiety wash over him, he was worried she would see through his disguise for a moment before she just nodded knowingly.

Much to Loki's relief who thought he had been caught!

"Ah, the skin is a delicate canvas, especially in harsh conditions. Fear not, for I have just the solution for your daughter."

She handed Loki an assortment of creams, oils, and serums, explaining their benefits and how to use them.

Loki, grateful for her guidance, paid for the products and hurried back to Y/N in their divine realm.

Upon his return, Y/N greeted her father with a mix of curiosity and scepticism.

"What is all this, Father?" she inquired, eyeing the skincare products in his hands.

"These, my dear child, are the tools to restore your skin to its former glory,"

Loki declared with a confident grin.

"We shall test these out on you, it will be like us doing some skincare together~"

Y/N hesitant at first, trusted her father's judgement and agreed to give it a try.

With Loki's guidance, they began their skincare routine, applying the creams and oils with care and precision on the parts of Y/N's body where her skin had rotted.

Loki always made sure to stop if it brought Y/N any discomfort or was starting to hurt.

After all, the rotten skin was almost like burn marks, they were sensitive and could easily hurt by the slightest touch.

As they worked together, Y/N couldn't help but notice a change. Her skin, once dull and lifeless, started to regain its vitality.

The cracks began to heal slightly, and a healthy glow returned to her complexion but the scars were still there.

"This is remarkable, Father!" Y/N exclaimed, marvelling at her reflection.

"I never imagined this was possible to heal, thank you so much father!"

Loki beamed with pride, his heart swelling with affection for his daughter.

"Nothing is beyond our reach when we work together, darling~"

Loki spoke softly, pulling Y/N into a gentle hug before kissing the top of her head with love and compassion.

[wishing-stones]

So I've been kinda curious, how would the boys react to Ren getting Overstimulated? I don't remember if you've done this, or something similar but I'm curious and in need of some comfort. And your version of the boys is that for me. (If you've already done this you can just ignore me) I love your writing btw!! 💙

Overstimulated as in "too much sensory input all at once" as opposed to the uh. Slightly less work-appropriate version.

Readmore for length!

Killer is actually super good with this. He understands "too much" and is content to just sit quietly on his phone and be a constant presence next to you while you do whatever you have to in order to readjust. If he's allowed to be in contact, he will be, even if it's just sitting shoulder-to-shoulder. He'll slowly test the waters to see if you're coming back around by showing memes and tiktoks that make him laugh, too. Dust likes to be the strong, silent support, too, but he's more the type to just leave you be unless you specifically want someone around to stay grounded. He gets overstimulated really easily, to oftentimes disastrous results. He understands. He'll hang around and be quiet (sitting somewhere nearby, like on a chair in front of the fire or on the bed if you're on the chair or what have you) and stays quiet unless he's needed. Axe doesn't know what to do, really. His usual method of "throw food at it until the problem solves itself" might not work here, but he's good to bring comfort foods and something like tea or hot cocoa to help calm down. He hovers unless told to go away (and then he hovers out of sight) If you want strong, quiet cuddles, though, he's more than happy to oblige. He's also the most likely to outsource to one of the others for aid because he hates not being able to help someone. It makes him feel helpless, even if the best option is to do nothing. Cross treats it like a very serious mission. Nothing bothers you, he's there at the drop of a hat to get anything you might need, and he's very, very quiet and moves slowly around you until it's okay not to. He knows the drill-- he gets overstimulated too, and he gets testy when he is. Quick movements and loud noises gets bones thrown at them, so... he's careful to not do anything that would set him off in this kind of situation. Baggs is phenomenal with this. If he has permission, you're going to sit and chill under hypnosis for a little bit until it goes away-- it's very easy for him to remedy that way. Or he'll knock you out so you're not awake to experience it, whichever you prefer. Otherwise, he'll put you in the back (read: therapy) room with tea in the dark and a blanket until you're all set. His overstimulation either leads to him being stupidly sleep-debt which makes him act inebriated, or gives him blinding headaches, so he treats it very seriously. Nightmare is a godsend for this. Whatever anxiety or panic or negativity caused by being overstimulated goes away instantly, and he will sit with you quietly reading or doing paperwork until it's okay for him to go off somewhere else again. You get a nice, tight tentacle cocoon for grounding if you want it, or if you don't want to be touched, just him sitting nearby and keeping the negativity at bay by draining it.

Dream is similar to his brother here, but instead of subduing the negativity, he radiates positivity and warmth to make you feel safe and comforted until it's okay again. He gets it. Having to hop all over the multiverse to keep people happy is very taxing, and he's no stranger to burnout and overstimulation. He has lovely teas that help calm and soothe, too, and he's happy to share. Ink is awful, but it doesn't stop him from trying. He hovers incessantly, but if you tell him to fuck off for a little bit, he will. He seeks help from the others for this, so you get aid from Dream by proxy. Blue struggles a bit because it's such a foreign concept to him... but his brother suffers from this sometimes, so he's better than Ink, but still kind of flounders. He'll pop in every five minutes or so to see if you need something, but understands that this is something you kind of have to get over yourself. Blue also doesn't like feeling helpless.

Error understand this perfectly, because when he gets overstimulated, he crashes. He also understands the anti-void is the antithesis of help for that sort of thing, so he likes to plop somewhere in waterfall to listen to the water falling or the rain of it coming from the ceiling. It's his go-to, and what he'll suggest as well. If he's feeling especially nice that day, you might even get some chocolate while he sits and sews something.

Also ;; thank you! I'm glad that my takes on these morons (affectionate) provides such a comfort to you!

[zenthejackal]

Book 6 Prediction Worry-Rant

...Oh boy. If someone told me the teaser would've caused me THIS MUCH anxiety, I would've just waited until the full trailer (or even worse, the full-on premiere)! I've been freaking out so hard since Thursday's reveal and only now have I gotten myself relatively under control. It also gave me some time to look at others' speculations and theories, so that always makes me feel better too. But now, I've got some questions about what will happen with this next book, and what it will really mean to be "emotionally wrecked".

Slight disclaimer: I heavily reference the info from the post made here by xadian-daydreams. I'm basing my ideas off of this, but all credit on retrieving this info goes solely to him (assuming him, sorry if I got it wrong!). I'll also have some references about Dark Magic from the Dragon Prince Wiki.

First off, I need to understand more about the real toll of Dark Magic. What we already knew was that using Dark Magic requires some form of sacrifice of a magical being, it leaves some form of corruption on the user (with physical changes depending on the severity), and that corruption can be used by Aaravos as a means of linking them together. The first use is a sort of 'jolt' to the body and results in nightmarish fever dreams but is remediable. Apparently, it amplifies the values/feelings of the user when casting it (according to latest Q&A). It has been constantly been referred to as a shortcut, or 'too easy to use', but isn't technically addicting; if you want to stop, there's no strong resistance to make you keep doing it. However, each time you use Dark Magic, it's harder to come back from it. Personally, I imagine this to your teacher's cheat-sheet for a test: at first you only use it to answer a really hard question, but then you keep using it because it's so much easier than relying on your own knowledge.

I need someone to explain to me: what exactly is the "corruption" of Dark Magic? Does it darken the soul to make it more evil, make you prone to the emotions you felt at the time of casting, or a very subtle way of "changing you from the inside out" without you realizing it?

The reason I'd like to know this first is because now we're looking at our 3 main protagonists: Callum, Rayla, and Ezran. First up is Callum, my personal favorite (yeah, that's right, I'm not ashamed to admit my bias). Going into the next book, the main questions that came up for me were:

How will Callum handle Dark Magic from now on, especially now that Aaravos is closer to him (magically and literally)?

Will it be easier for him to give into Dark Magic's temptation now that he's given into it a second time now?

How does Dark Magic affect the trust/friendship he's created over time?

Up until Book 5, I always assumed that Callum would never use Dark Magic again once he got Primal Magic; his one-time use was out of sheer desperation. Now that he's done it again (and after learning a bit more about his true character and motives), my main concern is that continued usage will continue to change him more and more until he's a very different person, someone Rayla no longer recognizes, let alone loves.

Moving onto Rayla, there was no real "progress" in the latest Q&A concerning her and the coins (writers refused to answer the REALLY juicy stuff), but there's still some things I still want to know:

If she's given a choice between her new and old family, who would she choose?

She has always been the one to be willing to sacrifice everything of herself for the good of others; how far will she go, or is there a line she will no longer cross?

How does she view sacrifice in relation to others, i.e. Callum? Is killing him when possessed his sacrifice or hers? Would she be willing to kill those she loves (not exclusive to Callum on this last part)?

Who does she ultimately choose above the other: Callum and Ezran or the world?

I realize that most of these questions center around Rayllum, but this is just what concerns me the most right now. I definitely want her to grow as an individual too, but this relationship between the two is something very special to me, mostly because of how much stronger they are when they're together! I really miss their chemistry!!

...Ahem, finally, we have Ezran. While he is still a great part of the main team, he is also now king. But we haven't really seen him act as one in the show as of yet; he's only really been ruling on-screen for about 2 episodes, gave into the bargain with Viren to try and prevent mass bloodshed, have a brief meeting with his council after the timeskip, and have some strong speeches concerning Xadia and addressing the dragons/archdragons. ...Okay, so that seems like a lot, but keep in mind, that 1) while there are powerful moments, they are still brief, and 2) all of this takes place over the course of 3 seasons so far, when he has begun his rule. I would personally like to see him act/struggle more as a king, mostly because I still see some naivety in his approach. He still acts a bit childish in his views, kind of like: "this is the right choice, so we'll do it" from a logical side. This view oversimplifies the world, and while he does address this in his powerful speech in Book 4, we haven't seen him really struggle with this notion. Your words aren't as strong if you haven't been hurt as bad, and I know that Ezran has a lot of hurt that he's been hiding. I want to see how he handles it. (No questions regarding Ezran, just speculation this time.)

The final cherry on top: can someone please tell me what "emotionally wrecked" could possibly mean for this upcoming book?!! Every time the writers bring it up, I get nothing but depression with a side of gloom and misery sprinkled on top! The only saving grace we do have from all this... negativity... is that it's coming in the second-to-last book, not the last. This also likely means that whatever horrible tragedies we'll face this book have the chance to be resolved/redeemed in the next one. Additionally, any character arcs/growth we go through will likely either continue over to the final book or will be resolved in time for another one. That being said, PLEASE TELL ME, WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO ACCOMPLISH BY DOING THIS TO US?!! THIS SUSPENCE IS EATING ME FROM THE INSIDE OUT, AND I'VE HAVEN'T EVEN DONE DARK MAGIC YET!!!

...Whew, got that all out of my system. Please reply if you've got any answers or comments, especially with the last part (better to rip the band-aid off now). I love a good dialogue! Just please keep it friendly and civilized. Thanks for listening to my rant, and here's hoping for Dragon Prince's continued success!!!

[wortcunningwitch]

Witchcraft for Dancers: A Masterpost

(part 1? we'll see)

as a ballet student and aspiring professional dancer, i've been experimenting for a while on using witchcraft to aid in success in my ballet career and help heal bruises, blisters, and other minor injuries. vice versa, i also use dance in my craft in many ways! this is a post compiling tips, tricks, recipes, and spells that combine dance and magic for my fellow dancer witches.

For a Dancer's Aches and Pains

disclaimer: injuries, especially severe ones, cannot be healed by magic alone! always see a physical therapist if you are experiencing pain aside from your usual soreness.

How to Make Calendula Salve - useful for dry skin, callouses, floor burn, minor scrapes/cuts, and more. the calendula plant is associated with solar magic, healing, and prosperity.

Epsom Salt - a common remedy for post-dance class swelling or soreness is to take an Epsom salt bath! Epsom salt can be found for a fairly cheap price at your local store, and pouring a little in your bathtub shouldn't take much effort/energy. in magic, salt is mainly used for cleansing and purification of a space, an object, or (in this case) one's body and energy.

Mugwort - a small tip i learned while studying West Country English folk magic was that inserting a little bit of fresh mugwort in your shoes helps to ward off fatigue while walking. i personally like to translate this to my dancing by putting some in my pointe shoes with the intent to keep away tiredness during classes and rehearsals.

A "Heal-All" Oil Recipe - one of mine! this is a multipurpose infused oil for use in healing spells and as an ointment. i have yet to test this one out, but you could use it to anoint places on your body that are sore or aching with the intent to heal.

Purification Balm for Self-Healing - this balm is directed more towards mental health and purifying one's energy. good mental health is a vital component of a person's overall health, and especially so for a dancer, because we're constantly comparing ourselves to our classmates/co-workers and striving for perfection. as the creator of this video said, it's beneficial to take a step back and assess your own wellbeing and energy before trying to fix anything else, which is something this balm is designed to help do. of course, because of the hydrating and nourishing ingredients that this balm contains, it can be used similarly to the calendula salve for burns, cuts, blisters, and callouses.

A Charm to Relieve Pain - another bit of West Country magic i learned recently. this one is perfect for relieving muscle pain, cramps, and soreness from dancing!

For Audition & Performance Nerves

disclaimer: if you feel that your anxiety is disabling or severely affecting you, please see a therapist or a psychiatrist before using magic. you may benefit from regular therapy sessions and anti-anxiety medicine if your mental health is suffering.

Lavender - lavender is a wonderful anti-anxiety herb! using a little roll-on lavender essential oil on my wrists before an audition or performance is my easiest go-to method to calm my nerves and clear my mind. if you're a tea-drinker, consider making some iced lavender tea to bring with you in a water bottle. if you have a green thumb, growing a lavender plant is great because you can 1) connect with it (talk to it as it's growing, etc.) and 2) take little sprigs of it and put them in your dance bag when needed.

Worry Stone River Spell - if you live by a creek or river, this is something you can do in the days leading up to your audition/performance if your nerves are overwhelming you.

Grounding yourself - one of my favorite ways to ground myself either during an audition or before a performance (in a warm-up class) is to put a lot of my energy and focus into the first few barre exercises the teacher gives, rather than worrying about the tougher combinations that are coming up. in a ballet audition, judges will often look for a dancer's musicality/technique/artistry in their plies and tendus. knowing this, i find it calming and useful to give my all to those combinations and establish my technique for the rest of the class.

Soothing Scrub - if you're like me and also get bad nerves after everything's done, especially while waiting on results from an audition, this shower scrub is a perfect way to cleanse yourself and calm down when you come home from dance.

Tiger's eye - tiger's eye crystals help with motivation, reassurance, confidence, and grounding. if you are able, i personally recommend purchasing a bracelet made of tiger's eye beads for convenience. if not, you can also carry a tiger's eye stone in your dance bag.

Amethyst - amethyst crystals are good for countering feelings of anxiety, as well as promoting mental clarity and wisdom.

Anti-anxiety sigils - some anti-anxiety and anti-stress sigils i've found online are here, here, here, here, and here. you can write down the ones that resonate, and if none do, there are a plethora of methods with which you can make your own! here is a good video on the creation of sigils. i suggest putting sigils in hidden pockets in your dance bag, writing them inside your dance shoes, drawing them on your wrists with oil, or drawing them in foundation on your face while doing stage makeup.

Anti-Anxiety Spell Jar - if you have a certain place where you store your dance supplies (either at home or in a locker at your studio), you can place this jar there to give your leotards, tights, and shoes a comforting magical energy.

For Success and Luck in Dance

Success Candle Spell - this is a great video to take inspiration from to build a candle spell for success! when i'm doing success workings for dance opportunities and audition outcomes, i like to personalize and specify them with dance-related sigils. the shape of one i made a while back resembled a sketch of a dancer, and the intent was specific to my goals.

Four-leaf clovers - a popular superstition that has ties in folk magic is the luck of finding a four-leaf clover. storing one of these in your dance bag is sure to bring good luck to your artistic endeavors!

Pointe shoes - a ballet dancer's pair of pointe shoes are incredibly important, and can be treated as a magical tool if you wish. nowadays, everything i do to a new pair of pointe shoes is infused with the intent of success and growth. when i sew the ribbons and elastics onto the shoes, i will often use knot magic when i reach the end of the thread. i usually sew my new shoes on a friday night, and leave them to charge with crystals on my altar overnight before wearing them for the several hours i dance on saturdays and sundays. (of course, you can find a way to do this that works with your personal schedule). when breaking them in, i visualize them molding to perfectly fit my feet and support the turns, jumps, and balances i will do while wearing them.

Color magic - if color magic is a part of your practice, i would encourage you to find ways to incorporate it into your stage makeup. if your studio/school doesn't have a uniform/is less strict with the uniform, you can do this with leotards/shirts as well. red, orange, green, and gold all have common associations with energy, motivation, luck, joy, and success in modern witchcraft.

Orange Peel Tea - while the original post wasn't specifically made with success in mind, this is still a great recipe because orange peels typically correspond with joy, good fortune, creativity, and solar magic.

that's all (that i can think of at the moment) for part 1! i might make a part 2 to this post depending on how useful people find it.

[sixofcrowdaydreams]

Wylan's Dsylexia in Fanfic...

Where are the fanfics that go into detail about Wylan's inability to read? Because most of what I've read so far largely erases or at least doesn't really discuss his disability...

I want to read about Wylan's experiences struggling to learn to read. His anxiety every time there's words in front of him. Repulsion towards books and his own self loathing for being intimidated by such a mundane object.

I want to read about descriptions of what he sees when he looks at text. Do words and letters float away, tangle in messy amalgamations until he can't recognize the shape of individual words, much less a single letter? Do letters or words vanish? Do his eyes simply gloss over letters and just not acknowledge them as words the same way other people look at a toddler's scribbles? Does he loath where math and science meet literacy when he calculates variables (2*y=4)? Does he have to make himself focus to even recognize the variable (and even then does that y in the example above change into an x or an n halfway through the problem and will he even notice if it does)?

Does Wylan know the alphabet? Is the alphabet always linear, when A is first and Z comes last? Or does he know in theory that A is first and Z comes last, but his reality is that all of the letters line up in whatever order they want in between? Can he recognize individual letters by themselves? Or does the shape of a single letter twist and bend unrecognizably?

Can Wylan read common sight words? Can he recognize his name in print? Can he write his name? Can he draw his name instead of writing it if he treats the letters like any other line or curve on his sketchpad?

And those are just questions for canon! What about his inability to read in a modern AU setting where basic literacy is a required skill in daily life? (if your answer is: He just uses a screen reader, so it's like he doesn't have a disability that impacts him daily at all then I'm going to punch a wall! That's such an ableist solution.)

If Wylan's in high school or college, is he in a remedial literacy class? Do his friends or peers know it's a remedial class or is it politely called some type of tutoring or private study? Does he have an official dyslexia diagnosis or does his father refuse to have him tested and teachers simply tell him to try harder? Do the teachers know and have an IEP (Individualized Learning Program) or support items for him? Or do his teachers not care because there's 30 other kids in his class alone and half the school needs an IEP, or is the teacher just an asshole? Do audiobooks of all his math/science/ music theory textbooks even exist? There's a so factors to take into considerations about his experience in a school AU and yet so rarely I've seen these questions addressed, much less explored.

I want to read about Wylan's experience with encountering moments requiring literacy that are so mundane that no one else thinks twice about them but are still obstacles to him. Like buying groceries -- he's only making purchasing decisions based on photos on the packaging because he's sure not reading the labels. Heck, any store. He doesn't know what half of the stores he passes are selling unless he can look inside their windows because he can't read the store name. Purchasing something using a card reader -- all those yes and no questions they ask. Street signs? Can he drive if he can't read road signs? Shop names? Text on clothing? Ordering food off a restaurant menu? Trying to find a TV channel/movie using a remote? Playing computer or board games?

Where's Wylan making excuses for being unable to read because he's embarrassed? Casually passing papers and books to others around him? Pretending to read? His ridiculously good memorization skills? Does he make excuses about not having glasses/contacts? Pretend not to be a native language speaker?

Where's the modern AUs where his text to speech programs malfunction? There's too much background noise to clearly hear his voice or it also picks up someone voice nearby too. Or he's in a quiet space and can't use it? No cell service or internet connection? Heaven forbid he loses earbuds/headphones or his father cruelly takes away his phone/computer or uninstalls his speech programs. The software not being able to translate messy/loopy handwriting. Where are the chat/text fics where his texts are absent of punctuation and riddled with errors he doesn't notice because the speech to text didn't translate properly and he'd have no way of knowing? Listening to every text/email/audio book is a s l o o o o w process. Where is all of the time it takes Wylan to listen to everything?

In conclusion: I want to read more about Wylan's experience with his learning disability. He is an extremely intelligent and resourceful person that finds his own strategies and adaptations. I don't want to see his his anxiety, struggle, and emotional trauma about reading erased or glossed over. I don't want to see his disability erased by never mentioning it. I don't want to see Wylan's disability erased by providing him with modern tools that "solve" his disability by making it a non-issue. Instead, I want to read about his experiences being -- maybe not more realistic -- but more authentic.

Any fanfic recommendations that dive into Wylan's experiences?

P.S. This post asked a million questions and I have my own headcanon answers to all of them. Feel free to ask! Some are based on my own experience with a learning disability. Some are based on moving to and living in a country where I can't read the main language. Being functionally illiterate as an adult is AN EXPERIENCE.

Guess it's time to be the change I want to see and start writing my own fanfic...