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gremlingottoosilly · 5 months

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Eat your Young (viking!Konig x fem!Reader)

You weren't afraid when the Vikings came. Your ruler pays them well, and they protect you from enemies far worse - there is nothing to worry about as you, an unmarried maiden, wander into the embrace of one of them. They are on your side. Right? Tags and CWs: Age gap, size difference, Konig is a bit obsessive and a huge perv, mentions of violence, Vikings Are Actually Kinda Nice No For Real, hand jobs, oral sex, naked man/clothed woman, slightly historically inaccurate, jokes about inbreeding Thanks to @angelbabysblog for the idea. I changed quite a lot because I was reading articled about how many of the Slavic cities were actually cool with Vikings and worked with them AO3

The Vikings are here. Your Father never allowed you to meet them before – as an unmarried girl, even if you’re already of age, it would be…scandalous. Not smart. Dumb, really – everyone knows that girls that are messing with the warrior from overseas often end up being taken away. And you couldn’t survive sea travel. The Vikings are here, but it’s not really a problem – you know that there are other countries over the sea, the countries that die and burn every time a ship is sailed in their harbors. You also know that you do not live in a country like that. That sound of Vikings approaching is a good one – that you’ll be protected from the other enemies your country has. You always stole glances, despite what your father has told you – you were a curious thing, always searching for trouble, always interested in everyone outside of your small village. You’re on the border – stuck between sea and great plains, open for any enemy if it weren’t for mercenaries who deemed this place as worthy of their camp. They live here, occupying the territory outside – even build themselves houses, despite every rumor calling them nothing more but overseas barbarians who would tear you down for a flick of a coin.

Well, you always thought you’d have nothing to worry about – you are not made of coins, after all. The Vikings had a leader, the one that stayed in the long house just outskirts of the village – the one that would always visit the elders, discussing the payments and the spoils of war. Father always punished you if any nosy neighbor would see you sneaking out to look at the warriors – but you couldn’t care less. If you are going to end up in a marriage with a fool, you could at least steal a few looks at the real men. Not the ones from your village – they felt more like brothers than anything else. Some of them were – second, third, fourth, just diluted enough to make the babies a bit less disfigured.

But, oh, nothing compared to the vikings. You see them when you run for the lake, far from the shore. They are clean – cleaner than sailors from Byzantine who sometimes stumbled upon the small village by the sea. You think you heard them talking about how cleanliness is a sin – and just how silly it sounded. You think you didn’t like people from this place very much – sailors were often drunk, always handsy and never spared a kind word without an insult…not that you knew their language – but you are smart enough to know that if a man is attempting to grasp your breasts while sneering something through his teeth, it won’t be a love poem.

— What are you doing here?

Ah.

You were spotted. Like a fox in a hunter’s trap – you are standing in the tall water grass, looking at the man through the weeping willow branches. Maybe, if you are lucky enough, he’d think you were a mavka, trying to drown him – some men were foolish enough to fall for the act, sparing you the consequences of your curiosity. You aren’t sure if the Vikings have legends of mavkas – if they even have lakes back where they are from. All travelers are mixed in your head – desserts, great plains, barbarians who would steal your sisters if you’d been blessed with some. Sea beasts who will take you on your ship, away from your father and…ah, it doesn’t sound too bad.

— Can’t you talk?

His voice is rough, and accented. Younger than you thought he would be with a body like this – a seasoned warrior, ginger hair covering his muscular chest and a small trail falling down his…

Viking knows your language. Shouldn’t be surprising – they are working for the elders and your ruler, after all. They get gold from your village, they get food from your village. They get sons – you heard about at least some of the women falling pregnant to the guests overseas. No one dares to say anything against it – but the rumors are still falling. You wonder if it’s as bad as it sounds. — I can talk.

This sounds dumb, but there is no use in hiding. Your intentions weren’t innocent – you are curious and curiosity is what leads to the devil. Or god of death. Or goddess – you are not well-versed in matters of spirit and while half of your village is still worshipping old gods while the other preaches about new, stronger ones, you wonder what kind of beliefs Vikings have. You heard their women can wield magic – and can count. And read. You would love to read, you think. — Gut. Thought I spotted a Margygr.

The word is weird. Rough. You don’t know what that is, but you certainly aren’t one. You take a step forward, not caring that your linen dress is getting drenched in water – not caring about what your father might say after. You would just tell him you wanted to go and drown since he was so adamant on marrying you off to some one-eyed half-wit quarter brother of yours. He wouldn’t be surprised – and you probably wouldn’t be missed. A whore to be, as some older women from your village would say.

— What is that?

He tilts his head to the side, his blue eyes looking at you. You notice a piece of cloth in his hands – something that must have been covering his face, you think. He is covered in scars and dirt, blood from some battle is getting washed away into the water of the lake. Gods, you say to yourself – you won’t even be drinking from it again. Although you promised it to yourself a few years ago already, when you spotted a dead deer lying in the water – and it’s not like you held to your promise. Better than seawater, after all. — A…drowned creature. Drowning creature. Your people are calling them… — Oh. Mavka. — Others call it mermaid. Selkie. Mermaid sounds harsh too. Rude. Other languages are rude – still, you would like to know more. Still, you would like to do anything to get out of your village. Learn to read. To write. Maybe hold a baby goat close to your chest and not have it ripped away for the nearest dinner.

— I’m not…that.

— I can see.

He laughs and you steal a peak at his manhood. You should be ashamed, really – if your dear mother was alive, she’d beat you up for being so immodest. If your dear mother was alive, you wouldn’t be allowed to sneak out like that – but she isn’t, so you stare at the man who can crush your skull in one hand. You stare at the trail of ginger hair going down his waist. The muscles flexing and the scars on his hips, glossy from cold lake water.

Hm.

Is it supposed to be this big?

He coughs and you peek to look at him again. Coughing isn’t good – he can be sick. Contangenous. There is a sickness coming around from sailor to sailor – you wonder if vikings have it too. You don’t want to get sick – but it would surely keep you out of marriage for a long while. Maybe, if you’re lucky enough, you could be buried like a pretty maiden. White dress and mourning relatives. That would teach them how to send you off to marry some dumb cousin you never knew before. Or knew too well. — You shouldn’t come here, Schatzen.

— Why?

— My men won’t be as nice as I am when they see a maiden in the lake.

You smile, tilting your head to the side. There are rumors – you can’t invite foreign mercenaries into your country without them taking their toll on the locals. Some people like them, some people are scared of them. Some are going out of the ordeal pregnant and some are not returning at all. But, you can run. But, this is your lake. You like it here – the quiet, the tranquility. You think that if your father proceed with calling you an old bride who should be married as soon as possible, you could just run away and live here. Fish is nice and there are berries when it’s not too cold. — Where are your men?

You never saw Vikings in battle. Never saw a group of them up close – you’d like to, of course. There are warriors in your village, but their best shot is wolves and deer. Not other men – you think you’d like to see war sometimes. Maybe, all the boys of age would die and you won’t have to worry about anything anymore. You would be nice as a local witch – or a local healer. Old hag sounds nice too. — Around. Waiting for the order. — What order?

You ask so many questions, König thinks. Pretty thing – smart, too. You aren’t afraid of him, even though you have to be. Most women would be screaming and crying if they saw someone like him in the lake next to them. Not Viking women of course – but people from around here are soft. Cherished. Coddled. You also seem soft, too soft, too gentle – a woman living in a small village on the shore without a husband shouldn’t be this careless. König knows you’re just lucky that the ruler of your country is kind enough to pay the overseas mercenaries instead of suffering the pillaging. Not all of people are this lucky.

If he won’t get a promised weight in gold this village won’t be lucky either.

König looks at your sweet face, at the way your eyes constantly dart to his crotch. Curious little thing you are – he isn’t sure if he is that happy that the payments have been consistent up to this point. That he can’t just screw this all over and demand a payment in other ways. That pillaging this village and taking all of its women isn’t really an option while they get their gold from here. Your long linen dress clings to your skin - you’re shaking, he notices. From cold, probably, dumb lady who is too curious for her own good. Hm. He has furs not far from here. He can…

— We’re protecting the shore. The border, too. You smile, nodding. And here he thought the locals knew why the foreigners were here – but he can’t expect too much, he guesses. At least it seems like you haven’t heard of most of his accomplishments. The rivers of blood would be enough to fill this whole lake three times. Or, maybe, you heard – and didn’t care, brave and fearless little thing. König likes the sound of that.

— Are you cold?

You ask him, to his surprise. Your gaze is switching from his face – he is open, cheeks flushed from the cold and a maiden right next to him, and he can’t even find it in himself to cover his scarred mug – to his cock. It’s standing proudly, heavy, balls hanging low as if asking to be held in your soft palms. König isn’t embarrassed – but he is surprised that your body, showing only a little bit in that dress of yours, is already enough to make him this bothered. This ready to give up the supposed protection of this village and take what’s his. — You can warm me.

You tilt your head to the side, mimicking his action from earlier. Curious bird – he could keep you at his ship. Tied up to the post, ready for anyone to use you. You’re strong, and resilient. Should survive the long way home – and he is getting quite ready to find someone at last. If the ruler of your little kingdom won’t be as stingy as the previous one, König can walk away with a sack of gold hanging on his shoulder. Enough for him and for him men. Surely enough to sway you. — How?

— Do you have a husband?

He knows, you probably don’t. A husband wouldn’t allow his wife to run around and flirt with other men – and if König was yours, he surely would keep you locked in like the treasure you are. There is too many men ready to take what doesn’t belong to them.

— No. And I won’t.

— Why? — Soon I will be too old to be a bride anyway. Not that I want it. He laughs at that. Surely, little bird, it wouldn’t be your choice. If the luck is on his side, it wouldn’t even be the choice of your father. — Touch me, Schatzen. You want it, ja?

He says this with more awkwardness than before. Swaying women by his side isn’t his strong suit – and even with his strength, not many of them would just throw themselves at him. Being a mercenary leader might bring him money but with the whole team consisting of equally strong and handsome men, the broody leader usually isn’t the first choice. He gets his fill eventually – but not the one that would make his heart flutter. With you, however… Your hands are traveling down his abs. Caressing every bit of skin you see – sending goosebumps down his navel and straight to his hard and leaking cock. He wonders if you’ve done this before – but your actions are the one of an explorer, not a professional. YOu grab his cock with both hands almost as if strangling him, and König lets go with a choked moan.

You retrieve your hands, nervous. Good girl. Eager, pretty. Such a shame this village usually pays its tolls. — Are you hurt?

— Nein, it’s…go on. You proceed to touch him, the softness of your touches is making him groan from pleasure. This is something else – you’re something else. Having the power to bring a seasoned warrior to his knees – god, how much he liked the way you looked at him. Eager and curious, always going down to touch his cock some more. You press your palm together, making s steady rhythm – using the pre-cum from his cockhead like a lube.

König relishes in the feeling – he might be one of the strongest soldiers, but it was the first time he felt victorious. With your hand pumping his cock up and down, the pleasure settling in his stomach and threatening to burst, he felt like a king. No, the king. Gods, you were beautiful. Worthy of throwing this village into the fire for. Worthy risking the payment. Your mouth is warm on his manhood – he didn’t expect you to be this active, to wrap your lips around the bulging head and bop your head just a bit. Up and down. Tongue swirling, as if tasting him. Making him sweat that you will decide to take a bite out of it, just to satisfy your curiosity. To his peace, you didn’t. He came shortly after you decided to put your mouth on him – when your tongue started to swirl around and collect the bitter taste of his pre-cum. When your curiosity about foreign warriors bathing in your lake finally made you do something about it – and he would feel bad about pressing a hand in your hair and forcing you to choke on his length, your nails digging small red paths in his pale thighs. You choke and squirm and cry and this is the sweetest sound he ever heard – so when he finally drags you away from his cock, smiling as you wipe your mouth and whimper. Squirm again, some more. The light in your faded a little as he pushed one calloused finger into his mouth and pushed your lips apart. Poor thing, he thinks. — You did good, little bird.

His seed tastes weird on the tongue. You wince, but swallow – it’s what good brides should do, you think. Somehow, looking at this warrior, you don’t feel so bad about being considered a bride. Maybe…no. You stalled here for long enough – you saw the Viking. You touched him. Tasted him. Father is probably looking for you.

You don’t even bother to say goodbye as you come out of the water – but König stops you right on the edge of the lake, firm hand on your shoulder. Squeezing. Touching. Feeling.

— I…I apologize, maiden. I lost control.

His voice is hesitant. You don’t like how unsure he sounds. It made you feel unsure too. Weird. Uncertain and meek.

— Are you going to leave soon?

He stops mumbling, looking into your eyes. This is settled – he is not leaving you here. You must return to your family, say your goodbyes. Maybe enjoy a few weeks of peace before his troupe finally gets a clearing on killing whatever enemies grouped at the border – and he will take you no matter the payment your ruler can give him. Nothing will be worth more than you.

— Yes. Yes, I will. You turn away, almost running. He didn’t stop you this time – you need to get as much freedom in your lungs as you can. He will take you eventually and, well…you best enjoy freedom as much as you could before this.

When your village will burn along with all the cousins, half-triple brothers, and elders, you’ll find out why most countries fear the Vikings. When you will be hauled to the wooden ship over a giant’s shoulder, with his hand sitting firmly on your ass and his other palm preventing you from screaming, you’d know why taking the attention of overseas mercenaries is a bad idea. When your ruler would refuse to pay the warriors for their service and force them to just take everything by force, you’d know why making payments on time is so important.

When König would finally make you his wife, you’d understand why you should have drowned in that lake instead.

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader #yandere cod #call of duty #cod x you #konig x you #konig cod #cod konig #yandere x you #yandere x reader

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meidiary · 9 months

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( 📁 ) THINGS THEY DO TO MAKE IT UP TO YOU

synopsis: they can't apologize like normal human beings, so they do their quirky acts to make you forgive them

characters: sanji (shocker), zoro & luffy!

warnings: swearing, (unintentional) angst for luffy..

a/n: my new hobby is making cute character banners oops 🫢 banner inspired by @sixosix <3! happy ending for luffy here !!

☆ whenever you and SANJI have had a fight or disagreement of any sort, he folds first. he is always the first one to give the 'cold-shoulder' act up.

☆ usually, he wouldn't ever stop talking about how much he loves you and how absolutely drop-dead gorgeous you are, but the moment he should talk about all that, he doesn't.

☆ he knows he fucked up.. but he can't bring himself to charm you up like usual.. so- he decides to bake his way out of this problem!

☆ your favorite cake, fruits, drinks, chocolate, and anything you ever mentioned to enjoy will be made and presented to you by your truly apologetic sanji <3

☆ he'd be standing in the kitchen for hours on end. not taking a break because he feels like it's 'his responsibility' to make you forgive him the hard way.

☆ eventually, after being presented more than a month's worth of desserts.. you got worried about the state your charming blonde lover was in.

"not that i forgot our fight.. but you should take a break, sanji.. you've been overworking yourself since this morning!" you tell him, trying your hardest not to sound worried. he gives you an exhausted smile, dropping the cutlery he had in his one hand and the spatula he had in the other one. "you talked to me," he spoke, barely louder than a whisper, before he let out a sigh of relief.

you felt your heart ache, seeing him in his current condition; sweat dripping from his forehead, hands cramped up from all the work he had done, and his apron splattered with a mixture of flower and melted chocolate.

your eyes met his almost immediately, which resulted in him instinctively noticing your sorrowful eyes. "what's wrong, darling? you alright?" he dusts his hands off with the kitchen towel before making his way to you swiftly. "my love why are you giving me your sad puppy eyes right now?" he chuckles as he cups your face in his cold hands, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs.

"because you overworked yourself because of me.. your hands are all cramped up because i was too stubborn to forgive you right away! i don't deserve you sanji.." he gasps, almost offended. "now that is the bullest crap i've ever heard. darling, i've gone way longer with way more pressure on me to complete dishes for a full-house back at baratie." he chuckles yet again, this time more relaxed. "what i did today was a mere exercise to make sure i was still able to perform under some pressure," a big smile growing on his face.

"sweetheart, if anything i don't deserve you.. i'm sorry for upsetting you earlier.. i was deep in the wrong, yet i'm only apologizing now. forgive me, my love." sanji gives kisses your forehead while grabbing your hands, interlocking them with his. "then let's say we're even now.." you two make up and after forcing sanji to let you help clean up the kitchen, you do just that.

☆ sanji tells you he won't 'bake his way out of a fight' anymore, but knowing him, you didn't believe that statement one bit. you told him to "just make sure you don't overwork yourself anymore.. wouldn't want your pretty hands to hurt.." ~ which ended with him teasing you the whole afternoon.. "you think i have pretty hands~? how very endearing, my love."

☆ now anytime you and ZORO fight, with him being in the wrong, his pride always gets in the way of him owning up to his shit and apologizing. that's all you need from him, an apology. you don't expect him to bake you desserts or write you a poem declaring his live for you, no you just want an apology that isn't forced out of zoro by sanji or nami, or even usopp!

☆ you ignore him because he messed up big time and won't even acknowledge it? ha, child's play, he ignores you. you don't even know how this petty fight escalated so far that both of you haven't talked for a good couple days.

☆ usopp is basically begging you two to make up. considering he had been forced given the role to communicate things between the two of you. zoro needed to clean his sword but didn't know which cleaning agent to use, because you always gave him the right cleaning agent? ⟶ usopp is sent to you asking you which cleaning agent is best to clean zoro's swords with. receiving the dirtiest glance from you, you tell him to tell zoro "he should pay attention more to what others say, instead of staring at his reflection off of his sword 24/7!" ⟶ usopp goes to zoro and delivers the message. zoro scoffs and chuckles lightly before angrily giving usopp yet another message to deliver to you. ⟶ after a while usopp started hiding from the both of you, not wanting to get sent to other anymore.

☆ nami is on your side, of course, sending dirty glances to zoro any chance she gets. she doesn't give him the silent treatment, but instead aggressively tries to let him acknowledge his faults so he could own up to his shit and just apologize!

"y'know zoro, i'm not even in this relationship, yet your ego still somehow found a way to suffocate me! fucking realize you've been acting like a child and just own up to the fact that you messed up, damn it." nami blurts out, all in one breath, before she walks off annoyed.

zoro let's out yet another scuff before sanji makes his way to the moss head. "don't you even start-" zoro sends him an angry glance which has sanji raising his hands in defense, chuckling slightly. "i just can't stand seeing my beloved y/n in distress like this. i don't know the details, i don't want to know the details. all i know is that if you don't want to lose her, i'd act fast if i were you.." he just as quickly turned away and resumed his kitchen activities.

out of all the things the crew told him, hoping to convince the stubborn moss head to apologize to you, this stuck with him for the rest of the day.

after having a rather silent diner with the crew, the same as the past few days, you finished first, leaving the table immediately. "thank you, sanji, the soup was delicious, as expected," you tried to smile at him which resulted in your lips becoming a wobbly line.

"anytime, darling, i'm glad you enjoyed.." sanji noticed your sorrowful expression, as did the rest of the crew. you sent him a forced smile again before leaving the kitchen, heading for your and nami's room.

zoro sighed before standing up from his spot, leaving the kitchen to follow you. reaching your room's door, he notices you locked it. "hey! open the door," zoro leans against the handle, his forehead against the door. "come on now, just open the door for me baby.." his voice softens, realizing how fucking stupid he's been acting, neglecting you in so many ways. "listen.. i'm sorry for being such an ass- you didn't deserve my shitty attitude, i shouldn't have acted so stubborn, i'm sorry. i- i just can't lose you okay? please open the door and talk to me, yell at me, scream your lungs out, just please let me see you baby.. " with that he balled his hand that was leaning on the door into a fist, remorse dripping out of his mouth as he finally realizes how wrong he has been acting, how bad he's been treating you, how much more you deserved.

what surprised him was that the moment you opened the door, you weren't carrying an annoyed expression. no, your eyes were teary, your upper lip was trembling, cheeks a red shade, and your eyebrows furrowed. "h-hey, don't cry now.." zoro wrapped his arms around you, whispering endearments into your ear whilst caressing your back.

you two ended up cuddling on you small framed bed, that barely kept the two of you on it. not a word communicated between the two of you. just you laying on his chest, playing with his fingers while his chin rests on top of your head, still caressing your back.

"i'll do better for you.." zoro breaks the silent, planting a kiss on your head. "i can't lose you, i won't lose you.." you look up at his last statement, putting your hand on his cheek. "you won't lose me.. you'll never lose me."

☆ yeah, fights with this man sure are extreme.. but you two make it work

☆ every once in a while, on a full moon, you and LUFFY experience a disagreement lead to a big fight. of course your relationship isn't always all rainbows and butterflies. but considering luffy's nature of not taking most things serious, lots of fights were prevented. you thought luffy was flirting with a waitress when you left? he laughed so hard, getting cramps in his stomach, because he thought it was the most stupid thing ever that you believed he would flirt with someone other than you. he made you feel ridiculous, thinking of such a thing! ⟶ fight prevented!

☆but sometimes, this very nature of his was what lead to some of the most dreadful moments of your life.

☆ anytime such an event would take place, luffy would be the furthest away from it, the furthest away from you.. it's not that he's angry at you, per se. he just needs his time alone to review all his actions leading up to the fight that may have caused for it to get this big. most of the time he'll be dozing off, too tired to look back on his actions. he doesn't even know himself why he always ends up avoiding you for a couple hours after a fight. all he knows is that he, somehow, always ends up understanding what went wrong between the two of you.

☆ but this routine action of his doesn't always receive a positive reaction from you..

there he went, yet again, neglecting his responsibility in this fight. it was petty, you knew it was, still you wanted him to own up to it! it wasn't fair that he'd leave you shaking, crying, screaming at the top of your lungs, out of nowhere. you were talking, well actually arguing, about how luffy had been avoiding you lately, how he'd turn around once he'd see you, sit at the other side of the table, leave the room the second he saw you enter it, but what hurt the most was that he'd shake off your touches..

you finally confronted him about this, not wanting to bottle up your emotions any longer. luffy reacted as usual, disregarding the issue jokingly, he assured, "it's not a big deal~ you're just seeing things." and then you snapped, everything you bottled up 'till this moment, unleashed. you were a sobbing mess. he had never seen you in this state, shit even you have never seen yourself like this.

you asked him what happened, what you did wrongfully. why was he ignoring you? why did he act like he was allergic to your touches, your voice, your conversations, to you? why all of a sudden? what changed between you? you wanted, no, needed him to answer; you hoped he would realize how stupid he was acting, how neglecting he had been. you needed him to take you in his arms and assure you he still loved you, that he still cared, that he always will..

as if all your sobs were disregarded. instead of talking to you, he stood up wordlessly and walked out of your room, gently closing the door behind him. which resulted in your cries escalating as you tried muffling your sounds with a pillow.

where did he go? why did he leave all of a sudden? does he not care about you? all of these thoughts were racing in your mind, overwhelming you to the point you were gasping for air. at this point, nami came sprinting to your shared room, worried about your condition. "what did that boy do?!" she questions with a mix of distress and anger.

all the while, luffy was sat on the figurehead of the going merry, the sheep. he was enjoying the cold breeze as he kept breathing in and out, trying to understand what had just happened. he soon realized he walked out on you the moment you needed him most. and oh how it should've hurt him, how his heart should be aching right now. instead, he feels nothing except the subtle chilly breeze flowing against his skin, through his hair, moving his flip-flops. he knows he should care, he knows he should run back to you, embrace you in his arms, and tell you he loves you. but he doesn't because as much as he wants you to feel loved and cared for, he can't be the one to make you feel that way. it's not fair to you, you deserve someone that means it when he tells you he loves you and always will be there for you.

he can't put on this facade anymore. he stopped caring a while back, but he believed it to be a decent thing to have you believe he was still the guy that would comfort you when you had a nightmare, the guy that would give you his last piece of meat to show you he cares, the guy that would cuddle you to sleep whenever it was too cold..

he thought it'd be easier for you. oh, how it turned out to be quite the opposite. because he faked your relationship this long, and it had come to an end like this; you didn't only lose your lover tonight, you lost your friend.

MEI'S NOTE: uhm.. yeah idk what happened at luffy's part- but I hope you enjoyed ☺️💓

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belladonna-moon · 1 year

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☽ Closet Witch Tips ☾

Hi, everyone! I spent years living as a closet witch and wishing I had more freedom to practice. Nowadays my living situation is different which allows me to do things I couldn’t before, but I know that there are many witches out there who are still struggling with this so I decided to share some tips on how to practice in the broom closet

Keep in mind these are all suggestions, you don’t need to have an altar, a book of shadows, practice divination, etc if you don’t want to

Altars

(Disclaimer: you don’t need an altar to practice, but in case you still desire to have one)

Inside a jewelry box

Shoe box

Tin can

Matchbox

In a video game such as animal crossing, the sims, minecraft, etc

The #SelfCare app has a little altar in which you can decorate with crystals, herbs and tarot cards

Notebook (then add the items by drawing them or maybe making collages)

Make/buy a little terrarium (artificial or real)

I’ve heard of people using plant vases as altars as well

Divination

(In case you can’t buy tarot decks/runes/etc)

Make your own tarot cards/oracle cards (it can be a little tiring but it’s what I did when I couldn’t buy my own)

Use playing cards as minor arcanas to read tarot

Pendulums (doesn’t have to be an actual crystal pendulum as you see on witchy stores, anything on a string will do)

Make runes out of seashells, rocks, clay, etc

Flip a coin for yes and no questions

Give dice divination a try

Deity Worship/Work

Wear jewelry that reminds you of them (ex: sun necklace for apollo, moon ring for artemis, etc)

Wear their associated colors

Practice devotional acts such as reading about them, praying, drawing something for them, writing them a letter, something related to your deity’s domains

Keep a notebook in which you can write their myths/domains/associations/etc or write prayers/poems, make drawings of things they like, etc

Keep a small altar

Watch movies that remind you of them

Play video games associated with their domains

Study something they have domain over

Make them a playlist

Make them a pinterest board

Make a devotional blog

Light a candle in their honor (it’s ok if you can only use LED candles)

Keep something associated with them on your desk/shelf

Keep a crystal associated with them near you

Get a small statuette/toy of one of their sacred animals to represent them (on your shelf/desk, on a small altar if you have one, etc)

Make a little deity jar and keep it near you

Have a devotional plant for them

Spend time in nature in their honor

Take care of yourself

Book of Shadows

Notebook

Notes app

Google docs or google keep

Tumblr blog (either private or public, up to you)

Somewhere on your phone/computer

Simple Practices

Enchant your jewelry with intention

Use color correspondence in your clothes/makeup

Meditating

Open your windows to cleanse your room

Keep crystals around you

Physically clean your space

Take showers/baths with the intention of cleansing yourself

Try practicing some kitchen magic if you cook

Enchant your food/drink

Make sigils

Keep plants in your space associated with your intention (ex: protection, creativity, etc)

Keep in mind that you’re not any less of a witch for not being able to do certain things, your practice is still valid

☽ Feel free to reblog with more tips! ☾

#witchblr #pagan witch #witchcraft #witch community #closet witch #broom closet #beginner witch #paganism #witchcraft 101

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genderkoolaid · 6 months

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More evidence of FTM people in history!!!

"In fact, individuals living outside of the gender binary were heavily involved and associated with the cult of Inanna, and her cult members and priests were known for their androgyny and blurring or destroying the gender binary. The gender-blurring members of her cult have often been included in poems and dedications written for her, often with Inanna personally transforming the gender of her devotees. One such example is the pilipili, a group of cultic performers in Inanna’s Sumerian festivals. The name pilipili is referenced within Passionate Inanna (80-90) in relation to an individual named pilipili who is transformed by Inanna. They are raised as a woman, the Sumerian for young woman (ki-sikil) being used to describe them, and Inanna blesses them, handing them a spear ‘as if she were a man’ and renames them ‘pilipili’. From this point forward they are referred to as ‘the transformed pilipili’. We cannot know for sure what the word ‘transformation’ means in this context, and especially since Sumerian did not use gendered pronouns it is difficult to reconstruct the exact meaning, but one interpretation is that through the blessings of Inanna, the pilipili transitioned into a man. Even if Sumerian did not use gendered pronouns, the possible phallic connotations of the word ‘spear’ add more weight to this theory.

I've only ever heard people talk about the gala when it comes to Inanna's trans worshippers, so I am delighted to hear there's evidence of some kind of FTM equivalent! (& if anyone's interested in this subject, there's also this quote which makes mention of FTM devotees of Aphrodite/us on Cyrpus as well)

Transmasculinity is divine too. Transmasculinity had its place in history too.

#m.

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repulsiveliquidation · 4 months

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without you || Ona Batlle

warnings : angst w/ happy ending, i promise. mentions of illness and death. based on the poem above. enjoy :)

last night you were in my dreams

looked me in the eye

god

it felt so real

her side of the bed’s empty. there’s no note left for you in her pretty writing. her car is gone from its place next to yours in the driveway. her pillow smells so much like her, it’s almost like she’s still here. the tears. you hate the tears. they fall without your permission. they wet your pillow, “I’m sorry,” you whisper, the lump in your throat made it hard to swallow.

you roll over to her side of the bed, the cold sheets solidify your loneliness. Ona’s gone. she left this morning, bags seemingly packed for such a long time that there was a little dust bunny at the back of the closet from where she hid the duffle bags.

the sun shines into your room just a little, the window left open from the night before. you had shared a glass of wine there, laughing so loud that the old man who lived across from you yelled for you two to go to bed. his wife scolded him and apologized for his behavior, blowing you a kiss and a promise of fresh pastries she would send you the next morning.

you opened the front door and there they were, neatly packed in a little basket. they were Miguelitos, Ona’s favorite. tears filled your eyes again, picking up the pretty basket with an unsteady hand. the old lady calls from across the road and you force a smile, voice breaking when you yell a thank you in a terrible attempt at Spanish. she smiles and nods anyway, watching as you tread back into the house and she sees you wiping a tear away.

they’re still warm so you leave them on the kitchen uncovered. you call Jonatan and tell him you feel like, faking a sniffle that he doesn’t buy but he gives you the day off anyway. suspiciously, Ona calls him not three minutes later with the same excuse. normally you’d call and tell him you were both under the weather but separate calls raise flags in his mind.

you crawl back into bed and begin to sob, hot tears staining your cheeks and pillow. you pull her pillow close to your chest and try to calm yourself, knowing it was no use when all you wanted was your girlfriend to hold you close and tell you everything was going to be alright.

she had done this two times before. Ona was a perfectionist, a master of her craft. every pass, tackle, dribble, and kick had to be perfect. one loose ball that was her fault meant another hour on the pitch perfecting the pass till her toes hurt from kicking the ball. the first time you had to physically throw her over your shoulder and drag her home, having a strict conversation with Alexia as she cleaned up. you made her promise to take her health seriously or Alexia would wait for the green light from you to be benched until she bucked up.

the message got to her head for about six months until a badly timed tackle earned her a second yellow of the game and the send-off. she ran off the pitch in anger, lashing out at Vicky who was comforting her as she walked off. you were on the bench with a little ankle sprain and waddled after her with Alexia, Mapi, and Pina in tow. you were ready to give her an earful when you heard muffled sobbing in the changing room. you told the others you would handle it and they backed off, faces full of concern for their friend.

“Ona?” you called, walking into the room slowly. she wiped her tears away, trying to look like she wasn’t crying. she refused to raise her head, eyes fixed on her muddy cleats.

“Amor, it’s just me,” you comfort, sitting beside her and rubbing her back. she flinches but leans into your shoulder, crying into your pressed shirt. you rock her a little and let her cry it out, gripping your coat tight as she shook in your arms.

“shh, it was just badly timed princesa. it happens.”

“I’ve let the team down, they need me…” she cried harder, snot running down her face. you reach into your pocket and pull out some tissues, reminding yourself to ask the girls which one of them stuffed it into your pocket. you wipe her face and kiss her nose.

“the girls are fine, we’re five goals up with ten minutes to go. we’ve got this game in the bag.”

“but the next games…”

“should give you a chance to rest and regroup. you’ve been working yourself to the bone again.”

“I’ve been sloppy at training, I can’t afford to make mistakes!” she yelled standing up and storming into the showers.

you lean back and decide to give her some space to breathe, hearing the loud chattering of girls high off another win and a clean sheet. you smile and congratulate them, not wanting them to worry about their teammate. Ona comes out from the showers second to last, hair wet and cheek rosy from the hot water. you sit in her cubby patiently waiting and she kisses you.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” she apologizes, fiddling with her fingers. you nod and smile at her, standing up gingerly since your legs have gone numb. she changes and you notice that she’s got one of your ratty t-shirts on and your training sweats. you shake your head and walk out the door, yelling that you’d have the car warmed up for in the front in five.

she scrambles into the car and relaxes into the seat, muscles visibly melting into the warm upholstery. you drive leisurely back home, the Barcelona sunset to your left. Ona snores in the passenger seat softly, not even waking up when the scent of the Chinese takeout you pick up fills the car.

she rouses when you park in front of your house, feeling the familiar cobblestone that you have to drive over just before bringing the car into park. she smacks her lips and feels your lips press a soft kiss on her cheek.

“We’re home, my love.”

she smiles and stretches her arms, climbing out of the car sleepily. you’ve brought all the bags into the house, already cleaning out her kit bag. she rummages through the bags of food and smiles when she smells her favorite. maybe taking a break wasn’t such a bad idea.

it was as if you were here again

deep down inside me feel

Ona locks herself in her room. the sheets feel foreign, itching her skin. you always had the softest sheets, catering to her sensitive skin. the bonus was that they always smelled like you and she made sure to take deep breaths when you changed the sheets every week.

the room smelled stale too. an expected circumstance since she was rarely over here anyway. your house was closer to the pitch and she already had half the closet to herself, why make the trip every time?

there was a knock on the door about twenty minutes after she got home. she knew it was Aitana with a billion questions but all she wanted was to be alone. really she wanted to be with you but she’d fucked that up. she didn’t even know why she ran, the pressure of performing was becoming too much and she didn’t want to be a burden. she couldn’t bear to see that look of disappointment she saw glimmer over your face when she got her first red card with Barça.

the banging on her bedroom door was what woke her up hours later. Aitana mentioned breakfast in the oven and coffee in the coffee pot before the front door slammed shut. she checked her phone and there was radio silence, half hoping that you had left an angry voicemail telling her to come home. instead, she was met with her wallpaper of you holding Coco over the summer at her parent’s house.

tears pool in her eyes as she scrolls through her camera roll, swiping through all the silly photos you made her take that night. she threw her phone on the bed and screamed into the mattress, hoping deep down inside she was braver in another lifetime.

and when the light came to wake me,

and you slowly starting to fade away,

my soul was longing for you to take me,

Ona walked onto the pitch three days later, heart aching to see you. she stepped onto the pitch and spotted you talking to the girls, Ingrid slapping you on the back laughing at a joke Mapi told the group. she decides to avoid you, too cowardly to face the music. you notice her and smile but she turns away quickly, busying herself with her laces. you decide to try and corner her at the end of practice you do, needing the help of the girls to keep her from running to her car the moment Jonatan blows his whistle.

“why did you run away like that, Oni?” you ask her quietly, the rest of the team filtering out when Alexia begins to shepherd them outside.

“it’s none of your business,” she growls, tears flowing down her cheeks as she packs her kit bag. you grab her shoulder and she turns around with anger seething in her eyes. you’ve never seen hatred in her eyes before, it was unlike her; unlike your cheerful, noisy, playful but shy girlfriend.

“Ona? what’s gotten into you?” you ask, feeling tired of all the secrets she’s been harboring. for weeks you’ve been concerned about her odd behavior. she’s been making frequent visits to the medics, getting off practice earlier and staying longer sometimes, random trips to the ‘store’ for hours on end. you thought that she was planning something since your anniversary was coming up and she liked to make a big thing about it but when she left that morning it hit you that she was probably preparing to leave. this time though, it was for good.

it's her third round of dialysis this week. Ona sat in the lumpy chair of her dialysis center when her doctor walks in.

“how does it look, doctor?”

“it’s fourth-stage renal failure, Ona. you need a transplant or else you’re never playing football again. frankly, I don’t know how you’ve kept playing this long.”

“Jonatan knows.”

“I see,” he says and sits. “does your girlfriend know?”

“she’s not my girlfriend anymore.”

“did you decide that for her, or did she have any say?”

Ona looks up at him in shock. she tries not to jostle the machine as she sits up.

“How did you know?”

“you looked like you didn’t want to believe it when you said it.”

“she deserves better than,” she gestures to the machine, “this.”

“she deserves you,” he says and stands. as he walks away and Ona is about to cry, he turns and clears his throat. “she’s donated blood here before, she’s a perfect donor match.”

Ona tries to cry into her palm quietly, the weight of her decision bearing down on her shoulders.

but instead,

i must live without you,

for another day.

you wake up feeling groggy, and the sound of steady heartbeats fills the room. there’s another heartbeat that deep down sounds familiar and it puts a smile on your face.

a chilling call from Jonatan put you in this hospital bed. he explained that Ona needed a transplant and that you were a perfect match. you cried in his office, body shaking with anger at yourself more than at Ona. you knew that it ran in her family and that her age was when the onset was. the extra visits to the doctor and ‘shop’ trips all made sense now. you punched a wall on your way out dramatically, crying like a baby all the way home. you barged into her house, Aitana following behind you like a puppy.

“so you were just going to run and wait for you to die?” you yelled at her, body shaking in fury. she just stared at her fingers, fiddling with the end of the throw blanket in her lap.

“answer me!”

“you don’t deserve this!” she screamed back, tears running down her face. “you don’t deserve someone who is dying to be your girlfriend!”

tears flood down your cheeks and you hear her door click closed, Aitana in front of it.

“you had no right to decide that for me, Oni!”

“I couldn’t put you through this. if I don’t get a kidney soon, first it’ll be football then it’ll be me!”

“I know I’m a match.”

her head whips up to look at you so fast, you’re sure she’s gone and given herself another ailment.

“no.”

“I’m a perfect match, Onita.”

“I could never ask you to do that!”

“you’re not asking if I’ve already asked them to make sure it goes to you.”

“Bebé, I–”

“no, you would do the same for me. I love you too much to see you like this,” you kneel in front of her as she sits on the bed, feeling overwhelmed. “Please, Oni,” you beg with your head in her lap, “Please let me help you.”

Ona wakes up and looks over at you, sighing in relief that the surgery was a success. the nurses have pushed your beds close enough together that you stretch your arm out and she does the same, fingers laced together with an unspoken promise to face every challenge that comes your way the only way you knew was right; together.

#ona batlle #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle imagine #fc barca femeni #fcb femeni #fc barcelona femeni #espwnt #sefutbol fem #woso imagines #woso x reader #woso soccer #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso angst #woso #woso community #womens football

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trashywritestrash · 4 months

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Short and Sweet

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Word Count: 853

Warnings: Best friend’s brother— is that a warning? This is just a short lil thing for Valentine’s Day

A/N: The poem and response in this came from Thomas Richardson’s “Gentleman’s Valentine Writer” which wasn’t actually published until 1828 but I needed ideas, okay? Also, I wrote this when Bridgerton was still the lead in the poll lol

Living beside the Bridgerton household had many advantages. Being close in age to Daphne gave you the perfect excuse to spend time with her. However, spending time with Daphne meant also spending time with the rest of her family, which allowed you to form a close bond with them all. One Bridgerton in particular being Benedict.

Benedict was a few years older than you, but within a perfectly reasonable range that made it acceptable for you to fancy him. How could you not? He was sweet and sensitive, but he had a playful side that brought joy any time you were fortunate enough to witness it. Although, you never dared to dream that Benedict might return your affections. You were the best friend of his younger sister, surely he would not think of you in that way.

Initially, you had been excited to be presented before the queen and sent out into society. But while Daphne had been deemed the season's incomparable, you had fallen into her shadow. You were happy to see your friend receive many visitors and gifts, but some days it would hurt to see a line of men outside her door while you waited in an empty sitting room.

Waking on Valentine's Day brought nothing but sorrow. It was only one month into the social season and you already felt that you were destined to become an old spinster. With no prospective husbands in sight, you would likely have to face a second season. You did not expect that you would receive any callers that day, yet you waited in your sitting room in a fine dress, as you did every other day. Your mother sat in a chair at the far end of the room, leisurely reading until something would happen.

Early into the day, your butler entered the room with a calling card in hand, "A Mister Bridgerton is here to call upon Miss Y/L/N."

"Send him in," You replied, feeling your chest constrict. It was possible that one of Daphne's brothers had come to pass along a message for her, but a gentleman visiting while you were accepting callers still brought you a shred of hope.

Moments later, you saw Benedict step through the doorway, holding something behind his back. He smiled, "I see I have gotten here before the rest."

You returned his smile, nervous, yet calmed by his presence. "I think you will find that the gentlemen are coming to your door today, not mine."

"Then they are fools and I am lucky to have you all to myself."

"What can I do for you, Benedict? I find it hard to believe you would be here as a suitor." You spoke the words in jest, but felt your throat tighten as you said them all the same.

Benedict's smile fell into confusion, "What is so hard to believe about that?"

Taken aback by the genuine confusion in his tone, you clarified, "I only mean to say that I would not have expected it."

"If that is the case, I hope that you find this to be a good surprise," For just a moment, you heard a bit of nerves in his voice as he tried to present a confident image. "Unfortunately, I cannot stay long. But I wanted to bring you these and to officially declare my affection."

Finally, Benedict moved the hand behind his back to reveal a beautiful bouquet of morning glory and myrtle. You smiled wide at the sight, "Thank you, Benedict. They're lovely."

Shortly after, Benedict had to take his leave, although he promised to come back the following day. Once he had left, you reached for a book on the language of flowers. You found that morning glories are used to represent affection, meanwhile myrtle is used to represent love and marriage. Learning that brought a blush to your cheeks, finding the meaning to be a little bold, but not unpleasant.

It was then that you noticed a small folded piece of parchment beside the flowers. When you unfolded the paper, you could see the painted design done in watercolors. A man and a woman stood beneath a tree, which was situated between a lovely cottage and a church. The image was small, but you could tell that the couple was you and Benedict. On the other side of the parchment was a simple note.

I boast not eloquence, dear Miss, Nor do I write exceedingly fine; Therefore, I bluntly ask you this-- Pray, will you be my Valentine?

As you looked down at the note, you felt your heart swell. You held it close to your chest, feeling as if you could burst from happiness at any moment. Your mother then looked up from her book. "What is that, dear?"

"It is nothing!" You responded quickly. Luckily, your mother did not push the issue further.

That night, you folded the note once more and placed it in the drawer of the nightstand beside your bed. As you attempted to fall asleep, all you could think of was that you could not wait to see Benedict again.

----------

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#nel writes #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fanfic #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton fanfic

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roosterforme · 2 months

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Covering the Classics Part 6 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: In the aftermath of the kiss, Bob and Anna try to process their feelings. Bob works on more of his poetry while Anna hides from her friends, but neither of them can get past their attraction. When another man arrives during a night out, all Bob feels is jealousy.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, masturbation, eventually 18+

Length: 5100 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!

Taking Anna to Chippy's was a mistake, because Bob was falling harder by the minute. She was cute and smart. Witty and reserved. And the fact that she was a little tipsy after one drink just made her more endearing. Jessica could drink more Sam Adams than anyone he'd ever seen before, and Bradshaw's wife could probably play beer pong professionally, but not Anna. She was giggling and demanding he not download a dating app. She was smiling nonstop and touching him. And he wasn't even allowed to have a chance with her.

She only lived a mile or so from campus, which was a shame, because Bob would have liked to spend more time with her. He played with the radio dials in his old truck as he drove, trying to keep his hands busy. And that's when he swore he heard Anna whisper a line from his poem.

"What did you just say?" he asked, eyeing her closely.

"Nothing," she told him as the car behind his truck honked, and Bob tapped the accelerator when he realized the light was green. He must have been mistaken. There was no way anyone actually read the stuff he posted online, let alone Anna. He just did it for a way to help him release his emotions and thoughts.

But he wanted to make sure. When he parked at the curb in front of her building, he turned toward her with curious eyes and whispered, "I thought you said-"

He was instantly distracted by the way she kept her eyes on his as her chest rose and fell a little faster. She unbuckled her seatbelt and scooted closer to him along the seat, and he froze as she leaned in and kissed him. Her lips found his like it was the most natural thing in the world. When she made a soft sound, he raised his hand up to touch her cheek, something he'd been dying to do for weeks and weeks. Her skin felt silky soft as she nibbled gently on his lip, and then he remembered everything that she'd said to him. He couldn't start down this path just to have her put up another roadblock.

He forced himself away from her. "Anna. I don't think this is something friends do," he croaked, praying that by some twist of face, she'd end up in his arms.

"I'm so sorry," she gasped, hauling herself back across the seat and throwing the door open. "I'm so sorry, Bob." He watched her climb down and grab her tote bag, barely glancing back at him as she slammed the door and ran inside the building.

He was going to offer to walk her to her door. He wanted to make sure she got inside safely. He wanted to do a lot of things that would hopefully come across in a friendly way. This was decidedly not how he imagined his night would end, staring at the spot where she disappeared inside and wondering if she regretted kissing him. She really ran away from him at top speed without any clarification.

"Damn it, Bob," he whispered as he put his truck in gear. But he didn't know what he could have done differently. He just wished he didn't know how fucking good it felt to have Anna's lips on his, because it would probably never happen again. He wanted to ask her why she kissed him in the first place. Then an even more devastating thought occurred to him. What if she didn't want to be his friend after this?

He really needed Nat to come home from her deployment, because he knew he couldn't mention this to Jessica at D&D. What would he even tell her? That Anna kissed him exactly once and then ran away faster than an olympic sprinter?

Then he parked in front of his house and saw the text that made him shove his phone into his pocket and not look at it again until morning.

Anna Webber: I'm sorry. That was a mistake. Please forgive me.

--------------------------

Anna was curled up in her sad bed trying not to cry. Bob would probably never want to talk to her again now. What kind of person told a man they just wanted to be friends and then kissed him like the words meant nothing? Anna, apparently. But it felt so nice. No. Better than that. Kissing Bob felt necessary.

Before she could change her mind, she texted him and then turned off her phone. I'm sorry. That was a mistake. Please forgive me.

She rolled onto her back and started to cry. Not for the first time, she thought about calling Kevin and screaming at him for ruining everything. She should feel a sense of freedom by now after finally leaving him in New Jersey with Alyssa, but she just didn't. It wasn't fair that Anna had no control over what Kevin did when he still seemed to dictate what she was allowed to do. But she knew she had to be a better person than him.

When she reached down to the floor, her fingers found the stack of books she was currently reading for work and for entertainment. She picked up the Vonnegut from Bob, because it wasn't even really that late, and she was in a mood now anyway. Then she took the time to find the note from him. Her new bookmark. She read through her tears until they stopped. She didn't dog ear a single page. She used his note to save her spot, and then she fell asleep with the book pressed to her chest.

She felt awful on Friday at work. When she gave her first lecture, it felt forced instead of insightful, and her notes seemed to blur on the pages in front of her. She didn't have an appetite, which was fine since she had no money for food and forgot to pack a lunch. Instead of going to the weird tree and the nicest women she'd ever met, she sat in her office and cried with her head resting on her folded arms.

Bob didn't text her back, but she figured he wouldn't. There was really nothing else to say. She already decided she wasn't going to mention the kiss to Advanced Calculus or Advanced Physics, but perhaps she should tell them it would be a good thing after all if Bob went on a dating app. He deserved to be happy. Someone else would make him happy.

As Anna was packing up everything she would need for the weekend, there was a knock on her office door. It was late, and her stomach was growling loudly, but she called out, "Come in!"

The room was so small, Bradley Bradshaw and his wife barely fit on the opposite side of her desk when standing side by side, and Anna watched him shuffle around so he was standing partially behind her. "What's up, Anna?" he rasped with a grin, and she had no difficulty imagining him ten years younger in a loud fraternity house.

"Hi," she replied, clasping her hands together. "What are you both doing here? I was just about to catch the bus and go home."

"You never came to lunch today!" her friend complained. "And you didn't text me back. I was starting to get nervous that the creeper from the sociology department got to you or something."

"No," Anna replied with a soft laugh. "I'm fine."

Two pairs of eyes bored into her, and then Bradley and his wife both blurted out, "How was Chippy's?"

"Did Bob make a move?" Bradley asked, his hands caressing his wife through her tweed blazer.

Anna swallowed a huge lump of guilt. "We're just friends," she managed to say.

"Yeah, yeah," he said with an eye roll. "Sure. But did he? Because I've been being a dick all week about getting him on a dating app even though I know he's not into the idea. Jake and I thought it might help."

"Are you serious right now?" his wife gasped, smacking at his hands while Anna rubbed her temples with her fingertips. "I told you not to interfere," she hissed.

"We're just friends," Anna repeated a little louder over the two of them arguing. "Chippy's was great. Amazing peanuts. Sticky floors. Grouchy bartender. It was like being back in undergrad."

Just as Bradley was raising his hand, about to speak again, he took an elbow to the side that seemed to make him think better of it as his wife asked, "Then you won't mind going back on Wednesday? To surprise Jessica for her birthday?"

"It's her birthday?" Anna asked, excited by the idea of being invited to a celebration even though Bob would definitely be there as well.

"Yes. I texted you about it when you skipped out on us at lunchtime."

"Right," she replied, knowing she'd only been checking her phone occasionally on purpose. "I'll be there on Wednesday. Of course I will." She was going to have to suck up her embarrassment over everyone trying to push her and Bob together, but at least they didn't know about the kiss she ran away from. "Anything for Jess."

"And are you coming to the Hard Deck tonight?" her friend asked as her husband's hands crept back into place on her body.

"I have a lot of work to do. Midterms are just around the corner," she replied lamely. "So, probably not."

With a sigh, her friend nodded once and said, "Please don't skip lunch next week. We missed you."

Bradley said, "I'll make extra hummus," before his wife started pushing him to the door.

The confirmation that the hummus was in fact homemade left Anna feeling slightly jealous. That feeling only grew as she watched her friend take Bradley's chin in her hand and softly say, "Oh, Beer Boy. I don't even want to know what kind of a monstrosity of a dating profile you'd make for Bob."

He smiled and waved at Anna before he looked at his wife and said, "I just want all of my friends to be as happy as I am."

She grabbed him by his khaki belt and said, "Let's stop by the library."

Anna desperately wanted to be that happy, too.

---------------------------

"What's your problem, man?" Mickey asked as he drove Bob home from Dungeons & Dragons. "You were weird all night."

"Just tired," Bob replied, and he was being at least partially honest. He'd been staying up later than usual, working on some poetry and reading the books Anna recommended. He enjoyed all of them; she seemed to know exactly how to reach his innermost hidden thoughts and ideas. She somehow understood him, and that was more exciting than he wanted it to be right now. But when he and Anna had to be together in person again, he knew it was going to be a different story. He was almost relieved she didn't show up at the Hard Deck earlier, because he had no idea how to act around her now.

She knew he had feelings for her, and that kiss had roughed him up a bit. Even a couple days afterwards, he thought he could still feel the pressure of her lips on his and smell her shampoo.

"Are you still hung up on Anna?"

Mickey's words made Bob laugh. "More than ever before."

"You know what I think you should do?" his friend asked as he zipped along in his sports car.

Bob cradled his forehead and said, "I'd love to hear it," even though he was pretty sure it would annoy him.

"You should tell her that you don't want to be just friends. And then kiss her."

Bob turned and looked at Mickey as the passing street lights illuminated him and then left him in darkness over and over again. "I'm not going to do that. All I can do is hope she changes her mind." He didn't mention the fact that they had already kissed; he was sure she was too embarrassed by it to want it to become public knowledge.

As Mickey pulled up to Bob's house, he said, "Well whatever you're doing right now, it's not working."

Bob sighed and said, "Thanks. That's really helpful. See you on Monday. Oh, and don't forget about the surprise party thing on Wednesday."

"Yeah, I won't forget. Hard Deck at seven o'clock."

"Chippy's!" Bob called out as he pulled away. Sometimes he felt like the most organized one out of all of his friends, and it was honestly amazing that Mickey even managed to get to work on time. At least Suzanne's lights were off as Bob walked up to his porch and let himself inside. He didn't have the energy to deal with anyone else tonight.

He stripped down to his underwear and got ready for bed, but he took his computer with him. He was ridiculous for doing it, but he looked at the notes he'd typed up last night and started writing. It was never as beautiful or eloquent as the things he read from others, but posting his poetry online felt like he was at least taking ownership of something he created. This poem, however, he didn't know if he'd be able to post it at all. He found himself writing about red hair when he realized it would warrant a mature rating label if he ever did decide to post it. Then he started to think about all the things he wanted to do with Anna and her red hair.

Bob grunted and set his computer aside. She was giving him mixed signals, and he wasn't sure she'd ever change her mind about being with him, but that didn't stop his body from responding as he imagined her beautiful hair spread out on his pillow. He'd take fistfuls of it and press his nose to it. He'd tug gently on it and tell her that she was beautiful. He would press kisses to the coppery strands and then guide her lower on his body as he grasped a little harder.

"Shit," Bob panted, kicking off his covers and pulling himself free from his gray boxer briefs. He jerked off to the idea of Anna and him together. She'd kiss his hips and thighs and laugh softly before licking along his length. His name would sound like the most beautiful poetry on her lips. Her freckles would stand out in the soft lamplight. He'd guide her along with his fingers wrapped around her hair as she teased him.

He stroked himself with his eyes closed, panting softly and whispering some of his own poetry, and he wasn't even surprised when he came all over his flat abs. When he adjusted his glasses with his clean hand, he thought he'd much prefer to see Anna in his bed with him.

--------------------------

Anna was starved for conversation with another human being by the time Monday morning arrived. Forcing herself to be a recluse as a means to distract herself from her plethora of issues was clearly not the answer. Not when she'd actually managed to make some friends in San Diego. She arrived on campus early and stopped in the lounge for a donut only to find nobody else from her department was really around. Then when she gave her first lecture, half of her students looked like they were still asleep. She tucked her new bookmark of sorts into Frankenstein by Mary Shelley and counted down the hours until she could meet her friends for lunch.

Jessica seemed none the wiser about her upcoming surprise party, but that was the whole point of the thing. Anna started bracing herself to spend some more time around Bob, hoping her kiss was so forgettable that he'd already moved on. Honestly, that was a pretty good possibility. She hadn't really considered that before, but it made a lot of sense. She was boring. After another day or two, he'd have probably forgotten all about it.

This helped Anna push herself through the week. On Wednesday, she took the bus home to change, and she knew she'd never make it to Chippy's on time in her sundress and denim jacket unless she took an Uber to the bar. So she gritted her teeth and paid for the ride, wishing for so many reasons that she hadn't kissed Bob so that she could have asked him to pick her up. But when she got to Chippy's, Bob wasn't even there. And Anna was met with a different issue in the form of a very attractive man with dark hair and dark eyes.

She felt his gaze on her as soon as she arrived, surprised he was looking at her of all people. But in her rush to get to Chippy's on time, all she really got to do was say hi to Jake and Bradley before they got her into position for the surprise. It looked like the bar had been reserved just for Jessica tonight, and that made Anna inexplicably happy and sad at the same time. Even that old bartender looked excited to celebrate. Even Dr. Rosenthal showed up.

Then Bob rushed in wearing jeans, a snug fitting tee shirt and a worried expression. His hair looked damp, and he was straightening out his glasses as he glanced around and asked, "Did I make it in time?" Anna felt like someone knocked the wind out of her as he got closer.

"Barely," Bradley replied, checking his watch. "Sugar and Jess should be here any minute. Where the fuck were you?"

Bob's cheeks turned a little pink as he muttered, "I had to help Suzanne with her car. She had a flat tire. And then she insisted I come inside for a few minutes so she could thank me properly. I lost track of time."

Anna crossed her arms and pressed her lips together as Bob came to stand right next to her. When he softly said hello, she just nodded and tried to give him a smile, but she was too overwhelmed with too many different feelings. He smelled like soap, and she knew his body was warm without him even touching her. She didn't know who Suzanne was, but she was automatically a little jealous, which was ridiculous. But now she felt like that kiss last week was as forgettable as she both hoped and feared.

Anna wanted to cry, but even her tears had to take a backseat at the moment as the door to Chippy's opened up and both of her friends walked inside. "Happy birthday!" everyone shouted, and Anna tried her best to look enthusiastic for the occasion.

"No!" Jessica called out, shoving at the other woman's arm as she realized it was her birthday party. "You're sneaky! You lied to me about getting just one birthday beer!" Then she rushed forward in her adorable suit and high heels, heading straight for Jake's arms. But the second person she reached out to hug was Anna.

"Happy birthday, Advanced Physics," she said with a stifled laugh.

"I'm so happy you're here," Jessica gushed, and Anna felt a lot better as she returned the hug.

But all too soon, she was left on her own. At least all of the tables were covered in dishes of peanuts. Jake was paying for Sam Adams for everyone, but Anna knew she shouldn't drink. Not again. Not after she got tipsy with Bob.

She could still feel those dark eyes on her as she broke open a peanut and enjoyed the perfectly salty taste. Who was that guy? His arms were wrapped around Jessica's waist, and Jake looked like he was about to go through the roof as his girlfriend laughed. Then he made his way over to Bradshaw's wife and gave her the same treatment. But Bradley looked completely unfazed when she kissed the other man on the cheek and smiled. They whispered something back and forth, and he met Anna's eyes with a wink. She quickly looked away, hoping to avoid a conversation. Bob was sipping a beer and smashing open his own peanuts, and she knew if she couldn't be with him, she didn't want to be with anyone else either.

Too late. "Hi, are you Anna?" came an unfamiliar voice followed by the spicy scent of too much cologne.

"I am," she answered, looking down at the extended hand of this handsome stranger. "Are you a friend of Jessica's?"

He laughed as their hands met. "Sure," he replied smoothly. "But it's really Bradshaw and I that go way back. I'm Dev. Dev Borah."

"Oh," she said, still shaking his hand and trying to make sense of things. Why was she so awkward? She finally released him and said, "It's... nice to meet you. Um, how do you know Bradley?"

"Virginia. Undergrad. I graduated with the two of them, actually. Nearly died of shock last year when I heard they were both out in San Diego and getting married. Can I get you a drink, Beautiful? Something other than Sam Adams?"

"Oh," Anna gasped as she looked up at him in surprise. "Um... I don't really drink much."

Dev moaned and gripped at his chest dramatically. "You're killing me. I own a brewery!"

Anna could barely tell one type of beer from another, but she wasn't about to tell him that. And quite honestly, talking about making beer sounded interesting enough; she loved learning about new things. But he just called her beautiful. She was flustered and too hot, and then she saw Bob standing off to the side with Mickey, and his expression was one of great displeasure.

"A brewery?" she asked, trying to force her attention back to Dev.

"Beta Brewing," he said proudly. "We're currently working on a two million dollar expansion project. It's kind of a construction zone, but if you ever want to come up to sample the goods, I'd love to have you."

Anna's eyes went wide. That sounded like an innuendo, but Dev's face was calm as he sipped his pint. Anna figured he must be okay if he was friends with all of these people, but she was never going to go there without the girls. "Maybe if everyone else wanted to go, I could tag along?"

Dev laughed and said, "Bradshaw makes the drive frequently enough. I'm sure we'll see each other again. But just to be sure... I could give you my personal number."

----------------------------

Bob was seething. He'd met Dev Borah exactly one time before, and while he'd had pretty neutral feelings about him prior to tonight, now he hated the sight of him. He'd persuaded Anna to have a beer even though Bob heard her say she didn't really want one, and now he was typing something into Anna's phone. He was giving her his number, just like Bob had done so many weeks ago.

"Stop torturing yourself, man," Mickey said, handing Bob some more peanuts.

"You think she likes him?" Bob asked, voice tight as he grabbed the bowl in his shaky hand.

Mickey shrugged next to him. "What's not to like?"

Bob tossed the bowl onto one of the tables. "You're not helping." He walked away to find someone else, anyone else, to talk to. He should have kissed Anna for as long as he could when he had the chance, because it was all he could think about now. It was all he wanted. She kept looking at him; if she was going to talk to Dev all night and say that kissing Bob was a mistake, then why was she looking at him?

He needed to get out of here and go home, but he knew his friends would be disappointed. Even Suzanne would shake her head. Honestly, he'd be annoyed with himself, too. But his mood was something so unfamiliar, he was ready to force himself to talk to the woman standing next to Anna who he thought was from the science department just so he wouldn't feel like a joke.

"You know," Bradley said as he slung his arm around Bob's shoulders, "I had no idea Dev liked redheads so much. But then again, he never was too discerning back in the day."

"What do you want, Rooster?" he asked with a grunt.

"I just wanted to make sure you're having fun at Jess's little shindig."

Bob let Bradley slap him obnoxiously on the back as he asked, "Did you invite Dev? Is he going to give Anna a hard time or anything?" His eyes trailed back over to where Dev was still talking her ear off.

Bradley chuckled. "I invited him to get Jake riled up, but I had no idea you'd be collateral damage." He finally released Bob as he said, "And nah, Dev's harmless."

What Bob wouldn't give to have Natasha back. He missed her terribly, and all the guys seemed to be better behaved when she was around. But she'd take one look at Anna and probably embarrass him in front of her even more.

"I think I'm actually going to head home," came Anna's voice filtering over to Bob as she finally cut Dev off. "It was nice to meet you."

"Let me drive you," he replied immediately, and Bob could already picture him getting Anna settled into his Mercedes-Benz, his fingers grazing her bare thigh.

"No, that's okay," she told Dev as she backed away from him. "I'm just going to say goodbye to Jessica, and then I'll get an Uber."

She made her escape to the table next to where Bob stood, and Jessica gave her a big hug. "Happy birthday," Anna told her once again, followed softly by, "I'm glad we're friends."

Jessica squealed and hugged her tighter. "Me too."

"I'm going to call an Uber and head out," Anna was saying, but Jessica was already looking around.

"No way. It's dark out, and someone here can drive you home. Hey, Bob? Can you drive Anna home?"

He knew he was going to say yes even though part of him didn't want to. And there was another part of him that assumed she'd just say Dev offered to take her. But when Anna looked up at him, he nodded and immediately said, "Of course."

To his surprise, Anna looked a little relieved as she took a step closer. "Are you sure you don't mind?" she asked him with a little wince.

"Not one bit. I was planning on heading home, and it's on the way."

Bob accepted a sloppy kiss on the cheek from Jessica who was well on her way to being drunk. Then he dug his keys from his pocket and nodded toward the door. Anna followed closely next to him, but unlike the last time they were at Chippy's, he didn't touch her. When Bob held the door open, he looked back over his shoulder at Dev who raised his pint glass with a smile of defeat, but he didn't really care about anyone except Anna.

"Thanks," she muttered, walking out into the cool, night air.

"Did you have a good time?" Bob asked, putting a little more space between them as he pointed up the block toward his truck.

Anna laughed, but the sound was tight and forced. "It was okay. I think Jessica was having fun, which is the most important thing, you know?"

"Yeah," he agreed, squeezing his key in his hand as all of the images of their kisses returned. Everything he thought about when he wrote new poetry and touched himself to completion. He swallowed hard; even being around Anna was a lot for his senses. He couldn't blame Dev for trying, but their interactions made him jealous. "Did you get Dev's number?"

Anna stumbled a bit on the sidewalk as she looked up at him, but he kept his eyes focused straight ahead. "I didn't ask for it. He just kind of gave it to me," she said softly. "He invited me up to his brewery to try some beers. When I told him I'm not much of a beer drinker, he said he'd really enjoy teaching me about the process."

"I'm sure he would," Bob muttered, running his fingers through his hair in frustration.

When he reached his truck, he wrenched the passenger door open for Anna, and she glowed softly in the dim, orange interior lighting. "He's a bit much," she said, looking up at him.

Bob nodded once, but she didn't make a move to climb in. "I don't know him very well, but I know he likes to hear himself talk." When she still didn't move, Bob asked, "Are you going to call him? Give him the opportunity?"

"I already told you..." she said firmly. "I can't be in a relationship right now, so I wouldn't want to encourage Dev. And I'm really, really sorry about last week, Bob." She fidgeted with her hands and added, "But if I were in a place where I wanted to start something, I wouldn't pick him."

"Really?" Bob asked as his heart pounded. The most depraved part of him wanted to hear her say she liked him more than Dev. More than anyone.

"Really," she whispered, placing her hand on the seat. "I like old trucks better than fancy sports cars."

That was enough confirmation for Bob. His skin was tingling with anticipation he knew he couldn't quench, but he didn't mind as much now as he did ten minutes ago. "Yeah... you could do way better than a multi millionaire anyway."

Anna's laughter in response was so genuine, Bob laughed, too. The drive to her place was quiet but not as strained as he was afraid it would be, and when he was about a block away, she took her phone out and started messing around with it. "Thanks, Bob," she said as he pulled up to the curb.

He cleared his throat. "You know how you told me you didn't think I should use the dating app? Because I didn't need it?"

"Yeah?" she asked, reaching for the door handle but looking at him.

He squeezed the steering wheel tight in both hands and said, "Well, I don't think you need Dev's phone number." He watched her jump down and turn to glance his way, and then she smiled.

"I already deleted it. Thanks again for the ride. Maybe I'll see you this weekend?"

He nodded once before she closed the door. As she walked inside, he said, "I hope so."

----------------------------

Oh. Oh, okay. She prefers you, Bob! Now get ready for action. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls. And thanks @attapullman for all the underwear discussions.

PART 7

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#bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #robert floyd imagine #bob floyd fic #bob floyd fanfiction #robert floyd x oc #robert floyd fanfiction #robert floyd fic #robert floyd #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #covering the classics

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lilspooky-doll · 3 months

Text

True Happiness Headcanons

pairing — Aegon II Targaryen x Handmaid! Reader

themes — canon targcest, fluff, aegon is a soft boi, au! aegon, one bad word (that's it, just the one), female! reader, mentions of pregnancy and childbirth, children (warning in and of itself), some healing for Alicent, one mention of child death, just very fluffy headcanons

author's note — hello again, lovelies! this was going to be a two-parter but i decided to condense it down into one post. it wasn't realy as long as i though it was lol but, it involves the different headcanons of their lives from when they first met all the way into the bits of their lives that i didn't really touch on in the original parts. i have plans for a more canon version of aegon soon and it will be a very dark fic overall. so i hope you enjoy these little fluffy tidbits!!

ADOLESCENCE

Once Aegon trusted her, he started teaching her Valyrian in attempt to be able to speak to one another throughout the Keep without word getting back to Otto or his mother

Sure, his siblings could slightly understand what they spoke of but, there was no need to eavesdrop on something that was working

Aegon loves his hair being played with whether it’s just fingers combing through the strands or braids being plaited into small sections before gently being pulled apart

There has been a few times that he has fallen asleep with his head in her lap in the early days of them being close to one another

More open to one another, she taught Aegon how to braid hair so at the end of the day when they debrief about their days, she would play with his hair as he talked and he would braid her hair as she spoke

On rough days, she would read aloud or recite stories that her mother and father would tell her when she was young

Aegon would hoard his snacks that he would collect throughout his scheduled day and have her try some when they are together

When Aegon began to develop feelings for her, he would leave little bundles of dragon’s breath he picked throughout his day on her bed

She started reciprocating by leaving notes and poems in Valyrian under his pillow for him to find when he would rest for the night

Sporadically during the week, Aegon would take his supper in his chambers as a way of innocently courting her despite the differences in their statuses

She was the one to help Aegon with cutting his hair when the length began to bother him; the braided strands of cut hair are hidden away as a souvenir in her bedroom chambers

ADULTHOOD

Aegon is a giver in every sense of the word

He always tries to take care of her like how she takes care of him

He enjoys the warm feeling in his belly every time he saw her smile or laugh

Every few nights, Aegon would sneak them away to the pit for an evening ride on Sunfyre

The older they get, the more everyone began to notice how much he’s changed

He stopped picking on Aemond;

He was able to maneuver things around for Helaena to marry Aemond;

She would help him in her free time to catch insects to deliver to Helaena at the end of the day

They all begin to appreciate each other more

On days where there isn’t anything scheduled for them, picnics were organized for all of them in the Godswood and when Daeron is visiting from Oldtown, he is along for the trip

It’s the smallest things he does for them and they love how much he’s matured

Aemond has thanked aegon for helping his betrothal

Alicent has walked in on them on multiple occasions

She found them cuddled up on the couch him asleep and her playing with his hair;

During a festival in the streets, she’s witnessed them dancing to the music and cheers that could be heard from the windows

Aegon has talking to Rhaenyra not long before their marriage as a way to bridge the gap between them

Rhaenyra’s shock receiving his letters wore off when she read that he had fallen in love with his handmaid and he planned to wed her much like she and daemon did

He offers Rhaenyra’s children sanctuary if Alicent or Otto ever tried to change the succession; this was his way of trying to ensure that he has no ill will towards her and her family anymore

She has them do their wedding at Dragonstone under Valyrian tradition

Aegon uses a refitted ring of his for her to wear as a sign of marriage and he purposefully wears only one ring on his left hand

After the fight in her solar, Alicent still tries to force a betrothal upon Aegon

It immediately fails as every one of the betrothal letters Alicent sent out are either met with no response or word of outrage that she would try to arrange a second marriage; worried about another Maegor situation

Eventually, Alicent starts to love and respected Aegon the way that she does with her other children

Aegon didn’t instigate the nephews during that family dinner

Otto has tried to manipulate her but she’s far too aware of his games for his liking (gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss)

FAMILY

She became pregnant not long after their wedding and Aegon quietly announces the news to a select few people; in person: Aemond, Helaena and Alicent, by letter: Rhaenyra during a regular correspondence he has with her

After learning the news, Alicent starts to make an effort to know her and help her with what she needs as a way to make amends

Aegon handling her pregnancy like a pro

Constantly he was catering to her every need and trying to make her comfortable

He always tried to make sure she didn’t get hurt while doing the few chores that she wanted to do (she comes from a long line of headstrong women who will not let a pregnancy stop them from doing what needs to be done)

He usually ended up just helping her with what she needed to do

When it came time for their first born, Baelon, to make his appearance, she kicked out all of the maids and Maesters demanding only for Aegon to stay

Of course, he was well out of his depths but she tried to prep him the best she could the last several days leading up to the birth

Baelon was born with no complications with only his parents in the room and was never away from his mother despite the disgruntled protests that she used a nursemaid for the baby boy

Shortly after his birth, they set up a more secure and secretive correspondence between them and her family in hopes that if the time comes and Otto does something stupid, they could safely flee to hid away

Alicent is definitely a better grandmother than she was a mother

She routinely sets up for long relaxing midday activities for all her grandchildren so, she can spend time with them and the little cousins can grow together while their parents can relax worry-free

There’s 2 children who were born before they fled: Baelon & Alysanne. Once they settle on the homestead, they have twin girls: Laera and Rhaela with one more boy, Aerion

The children are raised with equal love from their parents and are raised under the belief that although they are technically royalty, they will learn to be kind and considerate of those around them

Raised to put the work into what they want just like their mother was raised before she left to work at the Red Keep

The Boys are strong but not emotionally stunted. They are taught that emotions are okay to have and apart of who they are

No toxic masculinity bullshit

The girls are taught to defend and protect themselves. They are physically strong and can use any weapon they can get their hands on if they need to

THE DANCE OF THE DRAGONS

The second they get to the Dornish marshlands, Aegon dyes his hair brown to hide better (brunette! Aegon all the way)

Once they settled on the family homestead, it didn’t take long for Aegon to fit in with her family

He actually quite likes the hard work that the family does everyday to make sure that everything runs smoothly

Aegon still keeps in regular contact with his family whether it be his siblings or even Rhaenyra; he always tries to maintain some semblance of what is happening with them as he escapes the plan that was to be forced upon him

When the plan Otto sets in place happens with Aemond as the usurper, they coordinate for all of the children from both his full siblings and half sibling to be safely hidden away on the homestead to prevent any possible bloodshed of the innocent

The plan went into effect too late as Lucerys was brutally killed on accident

As much as it pained Rhaenyra that she lost her children, she is happy that she can now safely know that they are away from this disaster

As a sign of thanks, Rhaenyra sent some of Syrax’s eggs so that Aegon’s children had a chance at being a dragon rider like their cousins

The Dance did not last long with Aemond as the usurper since he had no real standing like Aegon, first born son, or Rhaenyra, first born and declared heir

The Dance was more of a fight between councils and not nearly as bloody as canon

Once Otto was found to be the one pulling the strings, he was sentenced to death and the Targaryen children by Alicent bent their knee at Rhaenyra being the true Targaryen heir after Viserys

#aegon ii targaryen #handmaid! reader #hotd fanfic #hotd headcanon #house of the dragon #house hightower #house targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon the second #headcanon #house of the dragon x reader #true happiness universe #au! aegon targaryen #hotd aegon

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zvdvdlvr · 2 months

Text

— Leaning to Live Again.

— 🪻. Synopsis. It’s been four and a half months since your fall. You’re starting physical therapy, and the team (and your husband) is there for you every step of the way- as Aaron gets started on filing a product liability lawsuit.

— 🪻. Warnings. Foul language. Frustrated reader. Female reader. Welder reader. Husband Spencer. Physical therapy. 1.6k fic. Mildly rushed ending. Not mych dialogue. I have no physical therapy experience, so I apologize for any incorrect terms/activities/phrases. Pet names.

— 🪻. Extra. Welder!Reader is getting a lot of love :))) Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!

— 🪻. Other Welder!Reader fics. Lunch Break. Alive and Breathing.

You spent five weeks in the ICU, four of them in a medically induced coma. The doctor said that it was so you actually gave your body time to recover; the first few weeks after surgery was always the rockiest stage of any major injury.

Spencer spent every waking hour with you, if you were conscious or not. He read to you, had conversations with you, and told you anything that came to mind because he knows you love his voice. After three nights straight at the hospital, the nurses practically begged Spencer to go home, rest, recuperate, and get cleaned up. And Spencer admits, he felt a lot better after going back to your shared home.

When the doctors decided it was time to wake you up, Spencer was all but shoved out of the room. Something abour “not overwhelming her” or something. Spencer wasn’t listening anyway. After texting JJ, she told Spencer she’d let everyone know the news as they were currently in South Dakota catching a serial rapist and killer. And then Spencer resolved to pacing, reciting each song lyric you told Spencer reminded you of him. He repeated the few poems he had gotten you to read, voice softening as you read the words. And Spencer repeated the vows you and him had written for each other, remembering your face and your voice, the way you stood and how you smelled. He relived it as you were being pulled out of the darkness of your unconscious.

“Dr. Reid?” The nurse asked, pausing Spencer mid-step. He watched a few other nurses file out, and Spencer felt his heart beat a little faster in his chest.

“Yes?” He answered, breath held.

“Mrs. Reid is awake. You are more than welcome to go in there, but don’t put her on any additional stress.”

Spencer had barely said ‘thank you’ before he was hightailing it to the side of your bed. He felt the wind rush out of his lunge when he saw you blinking harshly, eyes trying to adjust to the light.

“Hey sweetheart,” Spencer whispered, tears trailing down his cheeks. He sat down and carefully took your callused hands in his.

You cleared your throat. “Hi,” you said finally, voice gravely from disuse. “You okay?”

A watery laugh bubbled out of Spencer. “You fall off a building and you ask me if okay. Baby, I love you so much.”

“Takes more than a fall to take me away from you, husband,” you murmured, letting your hand trace Spencer’s cheek. “But… how is everyone doing? I heard some of the things you guys said when I was… out, but I want to hear from you.”

The genius looked away, salty tears dampening his beautiful eyelashes. “Hotch is planning to prosecute the guys who made the safety harness that you wore because we all know you never would have worn something that was unsafe or had been recalled. We’ve just…” Spencer sniffled, turning his head to look back at you, “I guess we’ve just kept busy.”

You hummed. “How long will I be out of the showbusiness?”

Spencer looked at you, your eyes tired despite all the sleep you had been getting. He knew your world would shatter when he told you that you’d be in recovery for at least another year and a half. Your lipped twitched- an attempt to get the man you loved to smile. Yet again Spencer felt his heart crack: this was going to break you. “Doc says… about two years.”

The pointer finger still tracing Spencer’s face stilled. Your face blanked and Spencer felt the ari leave his lungs at how you looked at him. “What did you say?”

Spencer took your hand in his, kissing your knuckles as his tears fell onto your own and then slid down down down to the cold hospital floor. “Two years, baby.”

“Years. Tw-Two years,” you repeated in a whisper. “Two years.”

Spencer’s eyes shut. Your head fell back on the pillow, eyes boring holes into the ceiling as your own tears welled in your eyes.

“I know, baby, I know,” Spencer cried as you wept silently.

“You got this, wife,” Spencer whispered, pecking the crown of your head before going to stand across you, metal bars on either side of the wheelchair you carefully stood from.

It was your twenty third day of physical therapy, and boy was it hell. Your entire bottom half hurt, feeling as if fire consumed your muscles as you shakily got used to being on your feet again. Your back hurt the worst, though. You tried to play it off the best you could, but when the shooting pain took hold of the sensitive nerves of your spine, you couldn’t do more than screw your eyes shut andprace your head for the inevitable fall.

It had been getting better, you thought. Taking your first six steps was getting easier. Getting out of the pool was easier, and you could stand up without yelping in pain. But still, as you pushed through eveey PT session, you couldn’t help but feel disgusted at yourself for not being able to do basic human activities.

Spencer really atuck to his vows, remaining steadfast at your side through everything. He was at your every beck and call, updating you on your coworkers and all the other people you’d grown close to as a welder and as a woman. Spence took pride being able to help you, being your rock as you always are for him.

Aaron was actively prosecuting the company that produced the faulty equipment. As requested by Spencer, Aaron didn’t tell you much. It was better in both of their minds that you focused on recovery and not having Hotch dumb down the details of legal stuff- not that you were dumb, you just weren’t as educated as Spencer and Aaron. Obviously.

Penelope made a point to bring you food every other day. With her she brought a big hug, warm smile, and hot tea. You listened closely to the gossip she had to share, grateful that she didn’t try overly hard to comfort you- she was just like a sister in that way.

Emily stopped by when she could, but understandably had other plans for her time off; i.e.: napping. When she came Emily brought a book or two she had seen and thought of you about or a magazine.

J.J. tried as hard as Penny did, bringing Henry and Will whenever possible. You appreciated the family, feeling fully accepted as J.J.’s soul sister, despite only knowing Spencer’s coworkers for almost a year. Henry had clicked with you right away and told you stories as he snuggled up to you in the hospital bed. When he fell asleep, Will and J would make conversation with you.

Derek had dinner with you and Spencer every weekend. He brought something new every time and always shut sown your protests at how expensive it must have been, aspecially since the three of you combined could eat $300 worth of food- having fast metabolism and being an athletic person was worth bragging about while shoving half pound birgers into your mouth. Despite just the good food, Derek made sure to talk with just you, offering a deep conversation or a lightheard bickering session, letting you know you weren’t alone.

Rossi visited every time he had time. David had grown fond of you and your personality. You were a hardworking, sincere, and (painfully) honest person. All admirable traits, Rossi thought. He always brought flowers, chocolate, and a milkshake/smoothie for you. Though his visits were shorter in comparison to Derek’s or Penny’s, David visited more frequently. He filled you in on details of the lawsuit Aaron was working on, staff drama, and other fatherly conversation.

Slowly, the months passed.

60 more days passed before the hospital finally brought up your discharge.

Through all that time you had managed to re-gain the ability to walk, run, swim 2 laps uninterrupted, and were improving daily.

You were proud of your progress, but especially thankful of all the people that had stood by your side the entire way. Your eyes burned just thinking about the love Spencer’s family your family had for you.

When one of the nurses you had grown close to finally brought up your discharge, you threw your arms around her and practically cried tears of joy. Spencer kept his composure better, but you could see the shine in his eyes as he discussed the details as you pulled yourseld away from the nurse.

The team was on a case when you reported back to them, but J.J. and Derek immediately set up a quick video call to voice their happiness. Even Aaron stepped in frame, a warm smile on his face as he spoke of how happy he was for you. David showed up right at the end. You swear you saw a tear roll down his cheek as he told you how proud he was of you, how strong you are, and how thankful he is that you’re okay.

Beside you, Spencer ran his hands through your hair with a shaking hand. He, too, cried.

It was two weeks later when you shoved your bags in the back of your truck (you insisted it be the vehicle Spencer drove home) and left the hospital.

“I love you Spencer Walter Reid.”

The two of you stood, leaning against each other, in front of your home. The feeling of Spencer’s warm body under your touch made you feel alive- electric, even. You felt like you could do anything as you carried your own bags into your own home with your own husband.

With Spencer by your side, you were finally learning how to live again.

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fl3shm4id3n · 9 months

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ₕᵢₛ Cₒᵣₚₛₑ Bᵣᵢdₑ?

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭, 𝐀𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫?

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴀꜱᴛᴀʀɪᴏɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ᴢᴏᴍʙɪᴇ/ᴄᴏʀᴘꜱᴇ ʙʀɪᴅᴇ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tw: Resurrections? Zombie stuff, eye popping out, reader is a bit oblivious, mean astarion, a bit of angst.

A/N: I always wanted to do something with Corpse Bride since I love that movie.

Masterlist

Astarion was out in the woods, he had finished feeding, but he didn't want to go back to the camp just yet. He wanted to enjoy the night, specially the full moon, it looked beautiful. As he walked around the forest, he thought about doing something fun, like repeat some vows he'd heard a while back. It was probably silly, but why not is not like on one will hear them. So there he was, repeating those vows in the most dramatic way possible, it sounded like a poem. He didn't forget a word, he said them perfectly, he sounded almost as if he was actually telling them to somebody.

Afterwards, he thought about heading back, but before he could leave. He felt something grab his ankle. It felt like a hand, looking down, he literally saw a blue hand gripping tightly onto his ankle. He tried to get the hand off him, but the grip was strong, after struggling a bit, he managed to get away. Except the hand was still attached to his ankle, he removed the now arm throwing it away. Then he saw how the ground began to move, instead of running, he only watched as the dirt began to move around. Then he saw a head, covered with a veil pop out, followed by their other hand which helped them dig themselves out. All he could do was watch, almost in horror.

The figure was finally out, it was a woman. Dressed in what a bride would wear, except her white dress is covered in dirt and roots, along the vain. She then removed the vail away from her face, revealing herself. Her skin was a light blue, a bit of her left cheek was missing, her eyes were those grey-bluish color, her lips a pinkish color. Her hair was also blue, but a much darker tone. Her skin still seemed to be intact, she hasn't completely decompose, but she was beginning to do so slowly. her sclera was yellow and decorated with red veins. The left side of her ribs had a chunk missing, as if she was stabbed. She seemed to have been murdered not that long ago. The woman looked at him dead in the eyes and she gave him smile. "I do." She whispered back to him.

Next thing he knew, you began to follow him around. He tried to explain to you that it was merely him just jesting and he didn't expect you to take his words seriously. But you didn't seem to care, you were just happy to have a husband like you've always wanted. The next day Astarion told everyone in the camp what had happed, they were surprised that you, a living corpse was technically alive but not really. Tav didn't seem to mind you tagging along, as log as you didn't put youself and others in danger, if they didn't have an issue, neither did the others.

You were attached to Astarion, who you'd refer to him as your husband. He'd nag at you that he wasn't, but he did not care, you'd still call him your husband and tell others that he was the now love of your life. He grew tired of it and just played along with it. He wouldn't call you his wife, only by your name. You didn't mind at all. You tried getting to know him, what his interests were along with his back story. You were very curious about your now husband, you wanted to learn almost everything about him. Besides that, people found it a bit odd that you, a corpse was walking around dressed as a bride, telling everyone about your husband.

That night the party was at an inn, after helping the small village with something. Astarion wanted to leave the room, maybe find someone to bed. But there was a problem, you. He needed to come up with some excuse, so he did. He said that he was going out for a walk, you thought about joining but he told you that he wanted you to stay in the inn because he had a surprise for you, so without hesitation in staying in the room. After you made yourself comfortable, he left. To find someone to have a bit of fun with. He did, he found a woman, who seemed to be also looking for the same thing as him.

It was while, he had completely forgot about you in the inn. He was focused on getting the woman to fall for his charm. He was too into it that he didn't notice you coming right behind him. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself, I was wanted to see if-" you stopped mid sentence. You saw how Astarion and the woman got a bit close to one another. It was awkward. You then grabbed his arm and pulled him close to you. "Darling, who is this?" you asked him, looking at the woman. The woman was shocked at what she was seeing. "Who is she?" she asked Astarion who was silent. "I'm his wife." You stated to her. "She is?" The woman said, then Astarion spoke. "Wait you don't understand, she's dead." He said, taking your boney hand and giving it a shake, making your bones rattling. You then removed your hand from his grip and glared at him.

Back in the room, you were not happy and it was obvious. "You lied to me! Just so that you could go and find comfort in some woman!" You accused him, crossing your arms over your chest upset. "Come on, did you really think that you were the only one?" he said smugly. "Yes! You're married to me! You shouldn't be looking for another woman!" You then began to cry into your hands. Actual tears or what could be considered tears were flooding from your eyes. "I thought, this was going so well." You sobbed, then out of nowhere your right eye had popped out of your socket, making it roll across the room. You didn't seem to care about that at the moment. Astarion then picked it up and gave it a small clean before handing it back to you. "Look, I'm sorry, but this just can't work." He said honestly. "Why not?" You asked, taking your eye back. "Its my eye isn't it?" you asked again, while putting your eye back in your socket.

"No, your eye is... lovely." He said a bit awkwardly. "Is.. in a different circumstances, well. Who knows, we're just to different. You're dead." he argued. "But so are you." You said in tears, you went silent, then added. "Y-You should have thought about that before you asked me to marry you." You stated to him. "Why can't you understand, it was a mistake. I would never marry you." He finished with an annoyed tone. Your eyes widen by his confession, this made your non beating heart break, you sighed. Walking out of the room to leave. Astarion watched you leave, sadden by how he talked to you. He couldn't help but feel guilty now. Was he really feeling guilt? That's new, he felt awful now. You didn't do anything wrong, you were vulnerable and innocent. You'd never hurt a fly or anyone. He felt like an idiot. He needed to apologize to you, but first he wanted to give you your space to try and figure out on how to apologize. Something he's never done in two hundred years.

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senpiecakes · 1 year

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Pussy Pleasers ____________________________________________________ Notes: I found this in my drafts and I was so surprised I had to finish it. Warnings and Themes: Smut. Pure Smut. NSFW. Fem!Reader. Some very tasteful words. Eating out. Mentions of semi-public intercourse (Albedo). Mentions of drugs (Kazuha). Body worship and praising. Featured: Thoma, Kazuha, Diluc, Itto, Albedo Next: Pussy Slayers Minors, Please Leave ____________________________________________________

Thoma

Always looking forward to servicing his beloved.

Whether to take the edge off or just to end the night good, Thoma’s always excited about going down on you. Sometimes you wonder if he likes it more than you do. He’s always eager to please just to see you fall asleep with a peace of mind and a happy smile.

Thoma loves everything about you; the way you taste, the way you sound, the way your hands hold his face when you finish and tell him how much you love him. His eyes are clouded with nothing but love when he sees you smile above him and tell him he did good.

He’d want you to ride his face, go on for hours till your legs go limp, and anything he’ll do, he’ll do for you. Just ask.

“Oh, my love. Did that feel good? You’re so beautiful.”

You insist on sucking Thoma off sometimes, but he’d rather prefer making you cum. He's more turned on with the fact that you’d feel great because of him. He lives for the way your back arches as he sucks your clit, your whines when he kisses your inner thigh.

Thoma’s a tease sometimes- slowing as he kisses down your abdomen, giving you a handful of praises before eating you out.

Thoma’s aftercare is also legendary. He’s a pleaser, we all know that, and to make you feel good and comfortable is the most rewarding thing he can ask for.

Kazuha

Kazuha’s a languid lover; love poems, slow nights, slow sex. He wants to take his time and make sure he treats you nice and well.

You love when he does it high. He’s sloppy, messy, not caring where anything goes as long as you’re on his mouth. Even when he’s a giggly mess, cheeks red and hair unkempt, his grace in his movements never cease to amaze you.

He looks at you, eyes red and glazed over, but watching you barely contain yourself with the way he does it so slowly? The way he catches your grip on his bedsheets? When your thighs sandwich his face into your pussy? God, Kazuha can live in this moment forever.

His hold on your thighs is light; occasionally running his hands up and down your sides. He praises you for being patient, asking if you could moan his name like that again if you have enough energy for a nice, slow fuck later.

‘My pretty girl, you’re so good to me.’

The last parts are his favorite. When he’s finally done with you, seeing you lazily smile to yourself, your legs on his shoulders still shaking after making you cum on his pretty lips- it was like heaven on earth.

Kazuha would trail lazy kisses from your inner thigh to your abdomen, the middle of your chest and finally your lips. You didn’t even care where his mouth had been- the messiness of his kiss, the daze and high melting into one, Kazuha’s tongue still going at it in your mouth- you both could never get tired of this.

Of course, the nap after that is always the best too if you’re cuddled up in Kazuha’s arms.

Diluc

He’s completely lost in the moment, brows furrowed and grip on your shaking thighs getting tighter. He wants to get carried away, pin you down until you cream all over his face, but he wants to do this for you. He’ll do that later on.

Diluc listens to every command you make even though he knows best how to make you feel good in ways you never even thought of. He takes pride in knowing what things make you squirm.

You’re bucking your hips upwards because he’s just that good, moaning his name loud enough to be heard in Mondstadt. Diluc doesn’t mind; he needs to let the world know you’re his.

He won’t stop until he appreciates the mess he turned you into. Where had the teasing from earlier gone? Where were your brave words from earlier, saying how you’ll make him into a shaking, begging mess.

Wherever that may be, Diluc would never tease you for it- instead smiling to himself and steadying his pace to give you the most mind-blowing orgasm you could ever experience.

“Cum for me, love. Let me take care of you.”

Diluc’s a gentleman. He’ll make sure you’re nice and ready before taking his cock and maybe let you rest a few minutes before continuing (that is if he won’t get pussydrunk). He'd massage your thighs and tell you that you did so well, placing loving kisses on your body.

After the greatest aftercare with his deep voice, a nice warm bath and a new change of sheets, Diluc would make sure you’ll have the best sleep of your life, so you’ll have energy for it again the next day.

Itto

Itto is messy. Too excited and sometimes even too immature but God, is he good at making sure you finish.

He wants to make it known that you’re his. His hold on your hips and thighs would be tight enough to leave a mark, bites on your inner thighs are misplaced and random, all for him to admire and replace the next time he sees them fading.

Itto’s more vocal than you sometimes. Praising you like you’re a blessing carved by the gods themselves. It’s usually a mix of praises and low grunts but you love it anyways. You love the way his voice rumbles in your core.

He lives for the moment when you’d tug at his hair (and horns)- relishing each time you’d find your voice and tell him ‘good boy’. It gets him good when you praise him as much as he praises you.

He can barely focus with his hard-on- seeing you throw your head back in pleasure and moan his name like it’s the last time you’ll ever say it. That keeps him going. He needs to pleasure his pretty girl, right?

“Just like that, baby, tell me how you want it.”

Despite wanting to spoil you, Itto almost always wants to jerk himself off but hearing you moan and beg and praise him will always be enough to make him cum. Before you know it, he’s whimpering out your name, begging for you to make him cum.

He won’t, however. He’ll save his load for when he’s inside you later on.

Albedo

In his lab in Dragonspine. Albedo likes privacy and likes to encourage you to moan as loud as you want. Nobody’s coming anyways (except you.)

Albedo loves taking you to his lab for two reasons: to show you his experiments and studies, to have a little ‘fun’. Sometimes just to de-stress after a failed study or to make you feel nice to make up for nights he’s deep in his research.

He loves watching you squirm above him while you’re pinned up against a wall. He kneels down, never breaking eye contact while he does it.

Albedo makes sure to go excruciatingly slow while licking your clit just to see that specific expression on your face. Try as you might to have him move more, Albedo would hold you still and tell you to settle down.

“Stop squirming Y/N and let me see that pretty face.”

You can barely feel the blistering cold with how hot these moments make you feel. Albedo’s warm tongue gliding up and down your folds, your skin burning and heart pumping with excitement.

Sometimes, Albedo hopes that someone would walk into you both, only for the fact that he can show them how much he can make you feel good.

He loves studying your features when he does this. Your body’s reactions to him, the expressions, the sounds you make- it was all so fascinating and so rewarding. Albedo makes sure to have you finish with the most mind-blowing sensation time and time again. It’s the least he could do for toying with you for that long.

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