#is the home doctor book worth it

[goodforeveryone]

A Lifesaver in My Medicine Cabinet: A Review of "The Home Doctor"

I personally used to scoff at the idea of a home medical guide. Surely, for anything serious, a trip to the doctor was necessary. But after a nasty bout of food poisoning miles away from civilization, with a dead phone and no way to call for help, I changed my tune. That's when I discovered "The Home Doctor: Practical Medicine for Every Household," and let me tell you, it's been a lifesaver ever since.

Stocked Up and Prepared

The very first thing that impressed me about "The Home Doctor" was its focus on preparedness. The book dedicates a whole section to essential medical supplies you should have on hand. It doesn't just list them; it explains why you need them and how to use them effectively. This proved invaluable during that camping trip. With the help of the guide, I was able to identify the symptoms, improvise some remedies from my first-aid kit (thanks to the book's guidance on stocking it!), and ride out the illness until I could reach a doctor.

Beyond Band-Aids: A Guide for Common Ailments

"The Home Doctor" goes way beyond simple cuts and scrapes. It covers a surprising range of common ailments, from headaches and fevers to sprains and even minor allergic reactions. Each condition has a dedicated section with clear explanations of symptoms, causes, and most importantly, self-care options. The book emphasizes when to seek professional medical help, but for less serious situations, it provides valuable guidance on treating them at home. This has come in particularly handy for minor injuries and illnesses my family has faced. With a little help from the book, I've been able to soothe earaches, manage muscle strains, and even deal with a nasty case of sunburn – all without a trip to the doctor's office.

More Than Just Western Medicine

One aspect of "The Home Doctor" that I found particularly interesting was its exploration of alternative remedies. The book acknowledges the limitations of over-the-counter medications and explores natural alternatives like herbal remedies and simple home treatments. It's important to note that the book doesn't advocate forgoing professional medical help altogether, but it does offer some interesting options to consider alongside traditional treatment plans. For instance, the book suggests soothing a sore throat with a gargle of warm salt water – a simple yet effective remedy that helped me avoid resorting to lozenges loaded with sugar and artificial ingredients.

A Well-Written and Easy-to-Understand Guide

"The Home Doctor" is not some dense medical textbook. It's written in a clear, concise, and easy-to-understand manner. The language is straightforward, and even complex medical concepts are explained in a way that laypeople can grasp. The book also makes liberal use of diagrams and illustrations, making it visually appealing and even fun to learn from. I found myself flipping through it on a rainy afternoon, learning about different medical conditions and treatments – knowledge that proved valuable later on.

Overall, "The Home Doctor" is more than just a medical guide; it's a source of peace of mind. It empowers you to take charge of your health and well-being, both in everyday situations and in the face of unexpected emergencies. Whether you're a seasoned outdoors enthusiast or a family looking for practical home remedies, "The Home Doctor" is a valuable addition to any household. It's a book I highly recommend keeping close at hand.

Peace of Mind in Every Page

[cozage]

Hii!! Can you write some headcanon about how they are with their s/o after 20 or 30 years passed? Or in their old age. Ace Law and Zoro please.(Please include Ace. You know what i mean right? 🥺) With a female reader. Thank you ❤️

A/N:Forgive any typos please :) Characters: gn reader x Ace, Law, Zoro Cw: None :) Total word count: 1k

Years Passed

Ace

After Whitebeard passed, Ace was one of the top contenders to lead the pirate crew, but ultimately the Whitebeard Pirates disbanded. It didn’t feel right without Pops. The two of you sailed around with a smaller ship for a few years before retiring to your favorite island.

That being said, you all still take trips to other islands or sail for a while to celebrate special occasions. 

While you all don’t go out drinking nearly as much as you used to, you’re still regulars at the local tavern. On Friday nights they like to play music, and you trade stories with the new “kids” who are brave enough to take on the Grand Line.

He still brings you breakfast in bed every Saturday morning, complete with fresh-cut flowers. Breakfast is never the same; he always seems to know just what you're in the mood for.

You all ended up having kids. Ace wanted one hundred, but you cut him off after three. 

He still likes to bring home a stray kid he found on the side of the street every now and then, and you never minded having the extra rooms filled for as long as they needed to stay. Some stayed for only a few days, some stayed for years. You loved them all the same.

Just about every night, the two of you make it a priority to sit out and watch the sunset. The moments together are truly what makes life feel worth living

Even after all these years, he sticks up for you and loves you without shame. He’s never afraid to show you off or plant a kiss on your lips when he thinks someone else is eyeing you. He loves to brag about you and all of the light you’ve given him over the years to just about anyone who will listen. 

Law

It took Law a long time to find a place worth settling down in. You all finally decided on Zou.

It made sense. He was a wandering spirit, Zou was a wandering civilization. He could still move about while being in one place. Plus, you always had a feeling he would have a harder time parting with Bepo than he ever let on. 

He ended up working as a doctor for the minks (no surprise there) and found that his favorite part of the day was when he got to help kids feel better. 

Your moment of peace and tranquility, even after all these years, is the morning cup of coffee you all share. You never get tired of that simple moment between the two of you, and you cherish it with your whole heart. 

Every Friday, Bepo’s family comes over for dinner. The kids typically put on some silly play or performance or rope you all into games they want to play, and you all will stay awake far longer than you ever care to admit. 

You always complain about how exhausted you are on Saturdays, and Law promises “We’ll kick them out earlier next week”, but you never do. You would never want to limit your time with Bepo and his family anyway, the complaining is more to get out of any chores you may have promised to do. 

Law loves in the quietest of ways. He prefers to stay in and curl up on the couch, or he’ll bring you a book to read in bed alongside him. But he never goes to sleep without kissing you first. 

Zoro

Zoro still groans when you get out of bed. He almost always pulls you back in with a “five more minutes” mumble. You had begun accounting for this delay years ago, but it still makes your heart flutter when he pulls you back in and wraps his arms around you so that you can’t escape. 

He runs his own dojo now, that operates solely off of donations (and the load of gold you all have from your pirating days). Kids can come to practice, or they can live and work there too. It’s a very satisfying occupation for both of you. 

Funnily enough, Zoro found a strange love for cooking. Well, grilling. He loves to grill. You used to joke about it being a necessary qualification to be a dad, but now he just tries to grill everything. Dinner is almost always covered, but you never know what new thing he’s going to try (and yes, he does have a really corny apron like “#1 Grillmaster” or something).

He likes to stay in most of the time nowadays. If you go out, it’s usually to a small place that is more family-style than bars. 

However, he likes to go to a bar with you sometimes and pretend that you all don’t know each other. He’ll spend the whole night flirting with you and finally end the night with “So, you coming home with me or what?”. He ALWAYS has new pickup lines or witty things to say to you. 

Zoro prefers to keep you to himself. He guards you fiercely and will defend you to death if someone even considers looking at you wrong. The first thing he teaches at the dojo is that you deserve respect above anyone else, and disrespect to you will mean immediate dismissal from the program. He can’t stand to see anything that might cause you pain.

[januaryembrs]

JUST A THEORY | Spencer Reid x Reader

Request: congratulations on 2k!!! you deserve that and so much more your writing is incredible! 🥳🥳🥳 if I could jump in with a request could I ask for a Spencer x reader fic where the reader is a journalist/reporter looking into a case as well and they cross paths? I think the tension and bickering would be so fun

Description: There's something about that agent Jennifer brought along with her that pushes every single one of your buttons

Length: 1.6k

warnings: general cm violence, probably not em's best work

“You know this could be considered obstructing a federal investigation,” Spencer huffed, trying to look over your shoulder where you skimmed the book in your hands with meticulous eyes. You ignored him, continuing to read the information despite feeling his burning glare in the back of your head, his breath on your neck as he shadowed your figure around the building. 

“You know the best part about a public library, Doctor Reid? It’s public,” You drawled back, your eyes never ripping from the page except to make a few notes of some key information for your article, “Which means I have every right to be in here just as much as you do,”

You heard him run a hand over his face and tried not to smirk at how easy he was to agitate. You’d heard a lot about the BAU, almost every criminology based paper in Virginia had, and so it wasn’t too surprising to meet the brains behind the reputation when three women had been murdered in the FBI’s home town. Every press association that was worth their money was all over the story, ‘How could this have happened so close to the capital in a city crawling with agents?’, which made your job just that bit more competitive and taxing. 

Yet luckily for you, you knew exactly where to go snooping for answers. It just so happened, the BAU’s resident genius did too.

“I guarantee it would be easier for both of us if you just give me the book first. I can read ten times faster than you,” He snipped, still a pup at your heels where you wandered through the aisles of non-fiction, the white lettering hanging above the shelves spelling PSYCHOLOGY. You rolled your eyes at his persistence, ignoring his attitude as you rounded the corner at the end of the row and looped back to where you’d picked up the book, the man still over your shoulder. 

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you you’re not supposed to talk in libraries?” You hissed back, flicking the page over and hearing his footsteps move in tandem with your own, “I guess you’re just going to have to wait and let the professionals work,” 

You hid a grin, hearing him pause at that, remembering the first day you’d been assigned the story. 

It started only a week ago. The newest victim had been found in the woods, stabbed seven times the same as the other two, her entire body washed in strong bleach, her hair and nails trimmed and ears even swabbed clean. You’d managed to get five minutes to sit with her parents, your pen and trusted notebook at the ready. 

“Why don’t you tell me about what Clara was like as a kid?” You said softly, eyes comforting and calm as you spoke over coffee that was quickly going cold. But you didn’t care. 

You didn’t do this part for ‘the story’. At least not the end of the story, the gory bits and pieces that the other news anchors focused on, how the women were brutalised and beaten, changed by a murderer until they looked unrecognisable. You didn’t like to focus on that, because that wasn’t who the victims were. 

You wanted to tell their story. Who they were before something awful happened to them. 

“She loved to dance,” Clara’s mother, Gwen, sniffled, her cheeks sodden with salted tears. Her voice quivered, croaked like it begged not to be used, but the saddest smile spread on her face when she said it, her husband’s hands clasped tightly in her own, “She used to ask to wear her leotard to bed; we couldn't get that thing off her,” 

You smiled, eyes falling to the pictures the parents had spread across the table in their haste to find the best one for the missing posters. Gwen seemed to follow your eyeline and grabbed one in particular, handing it over to you, gently thumbing the edges like that too might disappear. A little girl, black hair as silken as fresh ink stared back at you, her hands poised delicately above her head like the professional ballerina’s you'd seen on TV, her feet laced into pink pumps. The way she should be remembered, not the images you’d seen of her at the crime scene. 

You opened your mouth to speak again when two agents entered the room. Jennifer Jareau, who you’d worked with on multiple stories like this one to give the families the empathy they deserved, smiled at you civilly, somewhat guilty knowing she was stepping on your toes. Beside her stood a taller man in a matching FBI jacket, his hazelnut curls falling over his frown. 

“Mr and Mrs Townsen,” He addressed the couple solemnly, who looked up at him through red rimmed eyes, their sockets sallow and empty, “We need to ask you a few questions about the last few days you saw Clara before she went missing,”

He flashed his credentials in his right hand, long enough for them to see it was real, and looked to you with a stern stare. 

The couple glanced back to you, the picture still grasped tightly in your fingers, as you flicked a tight look between Jennifer and the new agent carefully. 

“Just one moment,” You told the grieving parents softly, handing the picture back to Gwen, standing to move to one side with the analysts, immediately turning towards Jennifer with confusion, “I thought you said I had until twelve?”

“I’m sorry, I wouldn’t interrupt if it wasn’t important,” The liaison said cordially, the two of you somewhat acquaintances after emailing back and forth for so long. She liked that you didn’t see the bodies as dollar signs, and you liked that she wanted the same as you; to tell the victims stories the way they should be told. 

Sighing, you wrapped up your notepad, delicately pushing the pen through the wire spine. “Can I get an interview with the second family at least? Daily Press was all over that story, and they made an absolute joke of it,” 

“That’s a little hypocritical of you,” The other agent piped up, and your head snapped to him. Eyes roving over his figure, brows furrowing when you realised what he’d said. You looked back to his face in annoyance. 

“Excuse me?” You snipped, crossing your arms over your chest, your notepad brushing against your ribs. 

“I’m just saying, you all get paid for what you write, so it's just as exploitive to write about the victims than it is to write about the crimes,” He shrugged, eyes narrowing when you shifted your weight onto your other foot and raised a brow at him. 

“Unlike you,” Your gaze fell to his badge he still had to hand, “Doctor Reid, I see those women as real people, not just little pictures on a white board. They’re not just dead girls to me, and they’re certainly not just money grabs,” 

Spencer went to retaliate again before JJ put a hand on both your elbows, drawing the attention away from your little spat. 

“We can talk about this later, right now we have an UnSub on the loose that is quickly devolving,” She chided the two of you like you were school children, and you sighed, biting your cheek to stop yourself from snapping back at the man. 

“What does that mean?” You asked quietly, well aware of the grieving parents sitting little more than a few yards from where you stood bickering. 

“It means you’re going to have to wait and let the professionals work,” Spencer cleared, pushing past your shoulder as he went to sit with the Townsens, his eyes swirling into something new and kind and reassuring as he looked at them, a Jekyll and Hyde to the hostility he had towards you. 

You could only suck your teeth in annoyance, before Jennifer pulled you further into the dining room to discuss rearrangements. 

Spencer blanked as he watched you skim reading the textbook, his own words thrown back in his face in an infuriatingly clever move on your part. With little more to say, knowing wit and barking orders would get him nowhere because he couldn’t exactly arrest you for not giving him public property, he resorted to begging.

“Please, give me the book,” He said, the desperation buried in his sigh, and you swivelled on your heels, a devilish grin on your face that had him fighting back an eye roll. 

“Oh, would you look at that? I’m finished,” You said, handing him the files you were reading, passing them over to him with a smirk and he found himself almost smiling at your sarcasm.

Taking the book out of your hand, he debated saying thank you, but instead bit his lip because he'd found you were somewhat incorrigible when you were getting deeper in a story. 

Turning on his heels to check out the book so he could take it back to headquarters, he stopped when you spoke, just a few decibels louder than the ‘Talk Quietly’ sign demanded. 

“Agalmatophilia,” You murmured, and he whipped a look over his shoulders where you were skimming the shelves for a second textbook, seeing as your first one had been commandeered, “The sexual attraction to dolls and mannequins. I know you guys speculated he has some form of OCD but I think it's Agalmatophilia,” You said, drawing a book off the shelf without really looking up to where his brow furrowed in familiarity with the word. He glanced at you then, and you flicked open the page of contents, feeling his eyes boring into the side of your head, muttering under your breath absent-mindedly, “Just a theory,” 

You’d shut him up the entire way back to headquarters. 

[purplephloxpress]

Another year, another Fanfiction Writers Appreciation Day!!!! If you are a writer of fanfic, please know just how appreciated you are!! Fandom would be such a different space without your creativity and labors of love. 💜

Holidays are all about making traditions, and the bookbinding friends with @renegadeguild once again came together to bind copies of fics for their authors as a show of our appreciation. This year I had the absolute joy of binding Emergency Help Wanted by the wonderful @piyo-13 and even got to collaborate with her on some of the design elements! It's a Modern AU Jiang Cheng/Lan Xichen fic that starts with a "help wanted" ad.

EMERGENCY HELP WANTED

I lied when I got my job. I told them I had a kid so I could leave early from work to pick him up from daycare, take him to doctor's appointments, and occasionally miss a day when he's sick. Long story short, I'm in too deep. I didn't think it through. Looking to rent a kid for bring your child to work day. Must be a boy ages four to six, longish dark hair, likes soccer. Must also be artistic as the macaroni noodle paintings I made seem a little advanced for his age. Also, I will pay extra for someone willing to play the role of husband when dropping him off. He's a prosecuting attorney who often brings his work home. Message me for further details. Serious inquiries only.

Ok. So. I may have gone a little feral with this one. Online "help wanted" ad spiraled into loading wheel scene dividers, spiraled into fake Google search result headers, spiraled into FULLY committing to those authentic looking text messages. In full color. (There are so many. I typeset in MS Word. It was SO worth it, but god what a struggle at some points.) And don't forget the "recent searches" title page! Or the computer cutout on the cover! (It's bluescreening, just like Lan Xichen through this entire fic!) Also that cover/title page image that I just kept adding details to. (It's supposed to be Lan Xichen's desk, so it simply didn't feel right until it had sticky notes on the computer, #1 dad on the mug, scissors and measuring tape, scribbles on the sticky notes) Did I have a ton of fun designing this one? Perhaps. Couldn't say. Maybe just a tad. (This is a lie I had an ABSOLUTE BLAST!)

Historically, I've waited until I finish at least the typeset before reaching out to the author, but not so with this one! I got the idea for the fake google search results from Piyo's authors notes, teasing the contents of the next chapter. But! Those didn't start until about chapter 4! So I reached out and asked if we could collaborate and I'm forever glad I did! Not only does this have teasers for each chapter, I also got to bounce design ideas off of her, including what shade of blue and purple for the text messages. Because my friends, that is a serious matter and changed SEVERAL times throughout the process.

Also shoutout to all my Renegade friends who gave input and encouragement over the past year while I worked on this (what endpages to use? how to make this shade of green perfectly Nie Huaisang? how do we feel about this text message design? or how about this one?) - I love you all dearly and appreciate you so much for putting up with my nonsense at all times.

Binding details below the cut!

Fandom: The Untamed/Mo Dao Zu Shi

Pairing: Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin / Lan Huan | Lan Xichen

Bookcloth: Aqua/Purple Dubletta from Colophon Book Arts

Endpapers: Craft Consortium Ink Drops - Ocean pack

Textblock paper: short grain cream from Church Paper

Titling: We R Memory Keepers foil quill

Endbands: leather cording core, DMC embroidery floss for the bands

Body Font: EB Garamond

Title Font: Berlin Sans FB

Text Messages: Roboto

Additional fonts: Times New Roman, Kunstler Script, Magis Authentic

Title page image from Rawpixel and designed in Canva

Various computer graphics from The Noun Project

Tumblr insists on eating and doubling text in this section at its own whim, so if there's something missing that you're curious about, feel free to DM me an ask!

[morganski-19]

part 1, part 2

Dustin visits the next day, sitting next to Wayne with the same book he’s had for the past few days. Turning to the page that was dog-eared, reading. Voices and all. Just like Eddie does when he’s practicing for one of those campaigns. Claiming that it’s better to get it down with someone else’s words so he can improvise. So he doesn’t have to memorize some script and can be in the moment. Let his mind do the workings along with the players. 

It’s one of the many parts of Eddie that Wayne sees in this kid. The dramatics, the drive. The snobbiness about certain things that don’t really matter to the rest of the world. But it matters to them, so it matters to the people who care about them too. 

If Eddie were awake, he might yell at the kid for turning the corner of a page instead of using a bookmark. Even though all the books he gets are second-hand and already torn and bent in all sorts of ways. But it’s about keeping the art pristine. The author put their heart and soul into this work, it’s not meant to be sullied. Wayne saw Eddie bend the corner of a page a million times over though, he just likes making a big stink about nothing. Just to get a rise out of people, make them laugh. Wayne can imagine that Eddie liked to make Dustin laugh a lot. 

“Have the doctors said anything new?” Dustin asks after finishing the chapter. 

Wayne shakes his head. “Same old, same old. Don’t worry about it too much though, he wouldn’t want you to.”

“He wouldn’t want a lot of the things that happened over the past week. So he’ll have to deal with it.” After a pause, he asks, “How are you doing?”

That makes Wayne laugh. “You don’t have to go worryin’ about me either. You’re just a kid.”

“And you’re just a man waiting for your kid to wake up. The same way I’m waiting for my friend to wake up. At the end of the day, we’re all still people. That sometimes need a break. So, how are you doing?”

It’s scary how much Wayne sees Eddie in this kid. “It’s hard comin’ here to hear the same thing every day.” That’s all Wayne’s willing to say to a kid. 

Hard is definitely a word most people would use to describe his situation. Difficult, disheartening. Maybe even hopeless. But there’s still some hope in this old heart that keeps Wayne coming back day in and day out. Keeps him moving while only getting a few hours of sleep a day. Cause as soon as the night comes around, it’s right back to the plant. Making the money to pay for the care his boy needs to keep living. To pay for the roof over his own head enough so he’ll live to see it happen. 

Truth is, Wayne’s dying here. From the fatigue. From the endless waiting. From the slowly draining pool of hope. Nothing seems to change. Nothing gets better. Six days in a medically induced coma with no hopes of ever waking up. Wayne’s not dumb enough to think that the chances increase the more days pass without him showing any signs of improvement. 

Part of him says that this is the state Eddie will be in for the rest of his life. Wonders if it’s worth all of this just to keep him alive. If he’s really suffering in there and would be better off resting forever. But then the heart monitor keeps beeping and his brain is still active. Wayne’s boy is still in there, he’ll come back soon. 

“Yeah, I bet that’s hard. I still have hope though, I was there when he came in. He looks a lot better now.”

There’s a knock on the door that keeps Wayne from responding. It’s the Harrington boy, in normal clothes this time. Discharged. 

“Sorry to interrupt but your mom said it’s time to go home.”

Dustin dramatically rolls his eyes. “Which one, my actual mother or you?”

“Your actual mother, but I happen to agree with her. Come on, you got school in the morning.” Harrington crosses his arms, looking like he’s ready to start a standoff. 

But instead of fighting Dustin stands. “Have a good night Mr. Munson. I’ll still try to visit as much as I can even though school’s starting back up again.”

“Thanks, kid, I’ll try.”

Harrington ruffles Dustin’s hair as he walks out the doorway. Standing there for a beat before turning back to Wayne. “We’ve never officially met, I’m Steve.”

Steve holds out his hand, waiting for Wayne to shake it. Wayne debates whether that’s a good idea or not. Apparently, it takes too long as Steve returns his hand to his side. 

“I wanted to apologize for the scene I made the other day, you didn’t deserve that. I was just so shocked that they actually cuffed him to the bed. Still have him cuffed to the bed.” Steve looks at Eddie with a guilt that Wayne doesn’t understand. Like he’s the reason Eddie’s strapped to the bed. 

Wayne continues to say nothing, not quite sure what would be appropriate. Tell him that it’s ok, that it didn’t bother him. Or thank him for believing that Wayne knew was true. That his boy was innocent. 

There was more to this story than he knew. Something to do with the kid being there and the rich boy standing in the doorway looking like this is all his fault. When Wayne knows the same scars mark Steve just as much as they do Eddie. Steve made sure that everyone knew that. Using it as proof that Steve was there, and that Eddie was innocent. 

Steve was ready to offer himself up as a witness for a man that the town hates. Wayne should be grateful for that, but it doesn’t seem right. They were part of different worlds. Different status, interests. It didn’t make sense for them to be in the same place at all. Yet here they are supposedly having gone through the same vicious attack. 

“Let me know if you need anything,” Steve continues when Wayne stays silent. “I’m more than happy to help out. Eddie was kind of a new friend and I hate seeing him like this as much as you do.”

“I seriously doubt that,” Wayne snaps. He hates charity, especially from this kid. For some reason he doesn’t really understand why. 

Steve is taken aback. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend.”

“I’m sure you didn’t, but you did. I know my boy and I know how my boy thinks about people like you. So don’t go ‘round gaining sympathy points from the real people who are suffering.”

“I, I wasn’t,” Steve stammers. “I would never.”

“Steve,” Dustin yells. “Get your ass moving, we’re your ride too.”

Steve sighs. “Coming, Jesus. I’m sorry for offending you. I won’t bother you again.”

Wayne shakes his head when Steve leaves, letting out a deep sigh. Maybe he was too harsh, maybe he wasn’t harsh enough. He’s not sure. 

He’s not sure about a lot of things anymore.

part 4

tag list, let me know if you want to be added or removed: @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar, @tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda, @fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77, @here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium, @resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly, @gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight, @devondepresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug, @greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake, @morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs,

[femmefatalevibe]

Femme Fatale Guide: Products & Services Worth The Splurge

Fashion:

A great couple of bras in black/nude (your best skin-toned shade)

Comfortable, breathable, and seamless underwear

Outerwear (Coats, jackets, blazers)

The perfect pair of jeans

An LBD that works from day to night

Comfortable, sturdy, sleek, and timeless footwear (a versatile black boot, a black heel, white sneaker, and a black flat/loafer/sandal)

A timeless and versatile crossbody or shoulder bag (a larger one for the daytime/work or school and a smaller one for nighttime/events)

One or two well-made classic jewelry item(s)

A conversation-starting item or accessory

Beauty:

Sunscreen

Any skincare/skin cosmetic products that are game-changers for you

A quality hair brush, comb, and hair towel

Your signature scent

A quality razor/hair removal product

Vitamin C/Retinol serums

Reliable hair tools and sturdy nail tools

A quality hair heat protectant/scalp cleansing or conditioning spray

Makeup brushes and beauty tool cleaners

Home:

Lamps/lighting

Couch/desk chair

Everything for your bed: Bed frame, mattress/sheets/pillows, etc.

Knives

Dishwasher-safe and microwave-safe dishes & cups you love

A full-length mirror

Vacuum

Storage solutions/cedar blocks or moth balls

Quality holders for everything: Paper towels, shower storage, hooks, mailbox/key bowls

Name brand paper products/household cleaners

Electric toothbrush & Waterpik

Sound-proof headphones/Airpods

MacBook Air

Health & Wellness:

High-quality lettuce and/or sprouts

Organic frozen fruits and vegetables (if fresh is too pricey)

BPA-free canned goods

Potassium bromate & glyphosate-free grain products

Snacks free of artificial colors

Quality coffee

An at-home massage tool/heating pad

Fur products for skin/hair removal

Vitamin C/Retinol serums

Quality running shoes

Anything that goes near your vulva or into the vagina: Sex toys, lube, condoms, toy cleaners, pads/tampons/menstrual cups, cleansing wipes, etc.

A yoga mat, resistance band, and a pair of small ankle weights

Spotify subscription

Books and audiobooks

Services:

Therapy

A top-tier haircut

House cleaning (even if it's only once every couple of months)

Top-tier hair removal/brow maintenance services of your choice

Best doctors, dentists, OB/GYN, and dermatologists you can get

At least one personal training/styling session in your life

Professional/Social:

Ownership of the domain for your full legal/professional name and/or business name

A CPA/bookkeeper/fiduciary financial advisor

Automation workflow/content management system software

A lawyer for contract review/LLC services

Personalized stationery/"Thank You" cards

Memorable client gifting for the holidays/milestone successes

Niche skill-based certifications (Google, AWS, Hubspot, etc.) or courses made by trusted professionals in your field

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[backwzzds]

law w/ a breeding kink go

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ sweet & messy, trafalgar law (nsfw)

omg law + breeding kink just makes sense. it’s clear that in reality he’s a very tidy and well kept person. law will go crazy if even a single note from his doctor’s book is missing. but when it comes to you—he’s the messiest person ever, especially with cumming inside you.

at first, law was against it. no, cumming inside you was too risky. he knew the effects birth control had on you and didn’t wanna rely solely on that to keep you from conceiving. the least he could do was his part and at least try and pull out on time (hard to when it’s literally your cunt he’s in every other night but whatever).

having sex with you is honestly the only time law gets to turn to his other side; the dark, messy part of him that lacks the self control popular law has. no, the law that fucks you is the part of him he tries his absolute hardest to lock away, it’s no surprise only you got to saw it.

when law has sex with you, self control doesn’t exist. the moment he’s inside your tight, gummy walls, its almost as if the biological primal male instinct in him completely takes over, and his only goal in life is to breed you. maybe not even for the sole purpose of impregnating you, but marking you. completely digging his territory and spiritually letting others know that your womb was his—whether you liked it or not.

law felt at home when he was between your legs. it was almost as if your velvety cunt made all the stressors of his day wash away the moment he came in contact with it. your tight grip on him like a vice was enough to send him in a haze. each thrust he gave you as if it were his last.

at this point, the sex wasn’t even for you, it was for him. and not in some selfish, asshole way; law always made sure you came at least twice before he focused on getting to the true work. but instead in a way where he spent hours sometimes just edging himself to a point so that when he finally nut inside you—it was gonna be worth the torturous wait.

it’s almost as if his version of heaven is calling his name at the gates when law feels himself reach his peak. he didn’t even have to do much to get to this point; you were doing it all for him. just laying on your shared bed, legs wide open and awaiting him as your gold anklet with his initials rested right over his shoulders.

when law cums, his eyes nearly rolls to the back of his head. it’s so good, it all becomes overstimulating for him. the lower half of his body practically trembles as he releases long ropes of his hot white cum into your pink cunt, not stopping once after you were clearly filled. to make matters worse, he pulled out and finished all over your breasts, significantly marking you. all his.

no one else’s.

[georgiapeach30513]

How I'm Looking At You, Part 1

Summary: You were long considered a spinster. Your family was desperate for money, and you were their only option. Sending you to work for a newcomer who was not part of the Amish community was risky, and it brought forth the gossip. Ari didn't seem to care what others thought about him, but he did care what they thought about you. Making your innocent crush and close proximity a bit more...harder. But can you convince him and yourself that the feelings are worth it? But what if it is just a crush? Do you even care anymore? Or are you ready to risk it all and leave the community?

Pairings: Ari Levinson X Reader

Rating: mild

Warnings:  gossip, questioning religious teachings, language, sexual tension, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 4.1K

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

Ari takes a deep breath as he looks around. A whole lot of nothing. Land as far as the eye can see, neighbors weren’t close. He is in over his head. It was a great deal, and it made sense at the time, but now that he has sweat dripping down his face, blisters on his fingers, and more sun on his neck that his mom would deem necessary he realizes this was just a dumb idea.

The outside of the homestead is one thing, but the inside is unkempt and a complete disaster. He didn’t even know where to begin. Overwhelming didn’t even seem a strong enough word to describe the mess he is in. It is getting lonely out here, and the farmhands he hired aren’t helping much on the home or the kind of loneliness he feels. Life out here is different.

“I don’t think you’re gonna make it,” Jacob, one of the more vocal boys that Ari hired. Ari didn’t need anything that this life could bring him. In fact everyone here would probably shit themselves if they knew how much he is worth. Sometimes you just need an escape from the city life. “You look like you’re gonna melt away.”

“I’m thinking,” Ari gruffs out. The outside is fine. It is looking great, and the only reason he is even out here helping is his doctor told him stress was going to kill him. How is this not stressful?

“What’re you thinking about?”

“What do you know about keeping a house?” The young man stares at Ari awkwardly before looking at the other two men confused. They shuffle around nervously, looking down at the tilled land, “Did I say something?”

“I don’t think you understand the roles here,” Ari shrugs his shoulders, and the two boys that he couldn’t be bothered to learn their name since they didn’t talk to him before return back to their work.

“Care to enlighten me?”

“I don’t think what I’m suggesting will happen,” Ari squirts as he looks at the vastness of the land. He’d take any suggestion at this point, or whatever he had to offer.

“I don’t need suggestions, I asked to be enlightened.”

Jacob points to himself, but starts scratching his head after, “We don’t do housework. That’s for the women.”

“So I should find a woman to hire for the house,” the other boys start to chuckle, but remain working. “I think I missed something.”

“It won’t help,” Jacob shrugs his shoulders, as he grabs up his tool.

“Why?”

“If you think you’re going to get a married woman in a single English man’s home, you’re crazy. If you think you’re going to get an unmarried woman in a single English man’s home, you’re insane. Nobody would ever let their wife or their daughter in your home.”

Ari closes his eyes slowly. This way of life is confusing for him. He doesn’t want to tie a woman up in his bed and have his way with her, well — no, he wants help for his home. “Why wouldn’t they?”

“Have you looked at yourself? You’re like a man from the forbidden books. You bring out lustful thoughts in a woman. How are they to remain pure when there’s an English man that embodies everything they’re not supposed to have?”

“I don’t know how to use my stove though,” Jacob shrugs his shoulders. He didn’t see how any man would let a woman in his life ever be in Ari’s home. Especially not alone. “If I were to try, where would one go look for a woman that is unwed and needs a job?” The other boys laugh again, but Jacob points out into the distance.

“There’s only one person I can think of. A family that only had one daughter, no sons. They’re…well, they could use some charity. Their farm is quite small,” Ari hears one of the boys whistle, and chooses to ignore them. “She works at the general store.”

It isn’t the most ideal place to look, but it is the only one for now. What is the worst they could say? No. “You boys got this here?” All three give him a nod, there is so much nodding with everyone here, and he starts walking to his truck. He wasn’t going to go the horse drawn carriage route with transportation. And this isn’t a flashy truck. Old and rusty, and now he had a bit more hope of finding help for the inside of his farm. Maybe.

You can hear the giggles from the front of the general store. It was always about you, and they never tried to hide the way that they giggled and carried on about you. You weren’t supposed to gossip, and yet they always did about you. You were told you were too old to wed, and you weren’t a man and couldn’t help your father on the farm. And you weren’t the most demure because you spoke to everyone, and no matter what you did it was never right. And everyone wanted to point it out.

All you can bear to do is hold your head up high and try not to let the giggles and the random sound of your name off their sinning mouths to not affect you. Unfortunately it did every time, deep into your heart. You didn’t have friends, except the people that come into your store, and it made you long for something besides loneliness.

You wished you would have taken off long ago, but your parents didn’t deserve that. You had dreams of getting married young and having lots of little boys to help your father out. Had told your parents you could do the labor, but they felt you were better suited here. So hear you stay constantly hearing the drone of pious women being anything but that.

It is all politics and a game, and you quite frankly were sick of it. Sick of the constant need to be perfect as a human when it was literally impossible. So instead you pretend as if this is the life that you wanted. Living in a modern world, but acting as if you’re in the past. If anyone knew about your thoughts on wanting to break free, you’d be shunned, and you just couldn’t afford that.

It isn’t too often that you hear a rumble of an old Ford truck nearby, or the slamming of a door, or the fact that the giggling stops, and you see a gaggle of young women start to waddle away from the general store. And you can’t help but think, good riddance. The fact that they wanted to linger here while they whispered and giggled about your life that didn’t interfere with theirs is cruel. You always had to be the peak of perfection, while they were marking off the commandments like it was their job.

Booming footsteps isn’t unusual. What is unusual is the man that walks through the general store door, and you have a combination of looking too long and needing to look away immediately. Your eyes dart to his face, and then the countertop. Studying him and the wood grain in equal amounts.

Noticing the sticky sheen on his skin, and the random droplets of sweat dragging down his neck. Noticing his hair damp with said sweat, and still looking so fluffy. He walks over to a cooler, and pulls out a bottle of soda. Doesn’t bother to pay for it first, just pops the top, and leans his head back. His Adam’s apple moves with every gulp, and you know you look too long because his dark blue eyes shift towards you, and he winks.

Looking down at the counter, heat courses up your neck. Swirling around your ears, and your throat tightens. You need water. Even alcohol at this point. You had stolen a few sips before, and always heard it helps in situations such as these. Something is happening to your body that you just can’t explain, and you can’t even glance at him anymore.

“Ma’am?”

“Mhmm,” your response comes out whispered and pitiful, and you’re still unable to meet his gaze. A sudden urge to sit down, and let your body curl into itself pops up, and you need an exit. Air. Air would be really nice right now.

“I want to pay for the soda, but also a few more. My hired hands would like a treat,” why did the word hands sound so — delicious? Does that even make sense?

“Sure,” your body goes on autopilot as you start to ring him up. Still not daring to look at him. You’d crack, you just know it. You would be a puddle on the floor if you even tried. “Are you new?” How that sentence was even able to come out of your mouth is a mystery. Your throat is so dry and in need of rehydration immediately.

“Yeah. I bought the old Yoder farm, right at the edge of the town,” of course he did. The most coveted of farms, and even that is a sin. Too big of a farm for a single man. Did he mean to convert? Or was it too good of a purchase to not make the investment?

“That’s actually why I’m here. Darling, you think you can look at me?” Oh. Hearing a name usually saved for your parents to use for you, sounds very different from his silky voice. Your eyes shift up to look at him, and he’s even more handsome close up. You shouldn’t be worried about someone’s appearance, but he also should have his buttons done up a bit more. Too much of his gloriously tanned rippling chest is showing. He is all man. And the butterflies that erupt in your stomach makes you recall the gossipers’ talk of you being alone forever.

Those girls would not fare well if the elders knew what they were doing. But seeing this man, and his beard wet with soda, and the heavy feeling in your unseen areas, makes you quickly ask the heaven’s for forgiveness. You didn’t ask for that feeling though, it just happened. Your body is reacting to the way he looks and that close proximity to him.

“Why are you here?”

“I have hired hands for the outside, but the home itself — well it has much left to be desired. I don’t know what I’m doing in an Amish home,” you nod your head, a giddy smirk tickling the edge of your mouth, and he returns the smile. It’s a struggle to continue to look at him with how attractive you find him when he smiles. He’s handsome. Very handsome, “Yeah, I don’t know how to keep an Amish home. So this is very different.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” you didn’t. You didn’t know at all what he was referring to. English people can be so tricky with their words. No need in trying to sway a thought, just be blatantly honest about what you need.

“Well, I hired some boys to take care of the outside. I was needing to hire a woman for the home,” oh. Your sight goes back to the counter, and you shake your head no. “I didn’t even proposition you.”

“Sir, I don’t know if you are aware of our culture, but that would be — no woman should be alone with you,” it is true. It wouldn’t matter if she was married or not, it would be highly frowned upon. He didn’t know what he was asking. But even you being here in this general store, alone with him would be frowned upon. You wondered. “But some of our men are a bit more relaxed than others.”

“Is your husband?”

“I’m not married.”

“So could I hire you? I’d pay double of whatever you’re making here,” tempting. Sinful. And you want it. You wouldn’t have to listen to the gossip of those girls. Gossip would happen, you know it would. But you wouldn’t have to hear it. That sounds lovely. And you could become a ‘fulfilled Amish woman’ because you were keeping up a household. You wouldn’t be a complete failure.

“You’d have to ask my father for permission.”

“Are you not grown?”

Now it’s time for your overly sweet smile. If only he knew how there is a huge part of you that is ready to run away from this life. You are grown, and the fact you are telling another grown human that he had to ask your father for permission is obnoxious. “You truly don’t understand. I will need his permission to be alone in a man’s home. Appeal to his better nature. But yes, I would very much like to be out of here.”

And you want to be around him more. Like a rope that had wrapped around you and was going to jerk you into his thick broad chest. You would very much like that. Maybe a bit too much. You shouldn’t desire and lust after this man, but he is not grown like the boys here.

“So if I talk to your father, and he agrees…”

“What’s your name?”

“Ari Levinson,” my goodness. You need to repent for your body’s misbehavior. But for right now you’re trying not to melt away.

“Yes, Mr. Levinson. I would like to keep your house up.”

“So here’s the kitchen,” you smile kindly as you take everything in. The house is just a bit more grand than most in the area. The land is plentiful. The Yoders’ were a bit more modern, which is why they didn’t do well in this more traditional area.

“And, I really don’t need to explain this all to you, do I?”

“Not particularly,” you answer. Your eyes take in everything. Almost envisioning what a real English home would look like. Peeking into the sitting room, and going back to his really tall and thick stature. Having to look quickly away from him because he is staring too intently at you.

“What time are you wanting me to start working? Are you desiring breakfast?” That was an odd choice of words that you’re using. Desire is something you have been feeling lately, and you don’t fully understand the feelings. Or whatever is happening to your body, you just know that you enjoy looking at him. “Or lunch? Or dinner?”

“All three would be appreciative, but not a requirement,” you give him a head nod, starting to open up cabinets. You cringe. This isn’t how you were taught, but you can’t help it. He was in dire need of assistance, you see. “I apologize, Darling. Maybe I can give you some money, and you furnish the kitchen properly?”

“I would need to.”

“You do whatever you need, Darling. You just tell me what you need me to do,” he keeps using that name with you. You never feel this way when your parents call you that. This weird knot in your stomach that twists and twists, and your breathing isn’t normal. You’re just standing here staring at this man, and that is all.

“Is everything okay? Did I say something? I’m not good at this?”

“No, the um…I’d need to go into town,” shuffling your feet around you try to look at him, and try to ignore the burning in your throat, and between your thighs? What even is this?

“Okay,” that’s all he has to say. And you can’t end it there for several reasons. One of which is because you don’t want him to go. “Darling, you’re going to have to talk to me. I can tell there’s something you need.”

“Town is a few miles away,” he nods. Still not understanding what you’re needing. Did you even understand? “And you need a lot,” he blinks owlishly at you, and you try to swallow a completely dry mouth, “I don’t have a way to get there and bring everything back.”

“Oh, of course. I’m sorry, Darling,” that name again. You almost want to start counting how many times he uses it a day. His hand touches your shoulder as he steps past you to grab his keys, and you inadvertently bite your lip. “Can you ride in the truck? Is that allowed? Do I have to get a horse and buggy?”

“A truck is fine,” your voice is so breathless as you follow him towards the outside. Ready to head towards town, and hopefully to get everything you would need.

“I’ve got to tell the boys I’ll be leaving. You go on, and get in the truck,” walking outside with your eyes focused downward, you walk towards his truck. Trying not to look at the boys from the church, but they are most definitely looking at you.

Staring so intently they don’t notice Ari walking right up to them, and Jacob looks too long for Ari’s comfort, “What’s she doing here?”

“I took your advice. She’ll be keeping the house up.”

“Like a wife?” Jacob removes his hat, continuing to stare at you casually getting in his truck. Your eyes are still downcast, and your unmoving face still looking straight ahead and not at the boys. “So her parents agreed to this, and she’s just getting in your car.”

“I just met her and you’re talking about wives. No, I’m taking her to town to get the things she’ll need here. You boys continue to do the work, and I’ll return,” he nods to each of them, and they all gawk as he walks towards the truck, and you give them one solid glance, and they return to their work. Not making it too obvious that they are looking at you.

Opening the truck door, you watch as his thick body hops in. Looking at his legs, and how thick they look sitting down, and you weave your fingers together. Looking down at your own lap when Ari looks towards you, “You seem uncomfortable.”

“They are watching us, Mr. Levinson.”

“Should you not be in the truck with me? And please, call me Ari.”

“You’ll find out soon enough that for a community that teaches against gossiping, they will truly gossip. Carry on,” getting out of the sight of the farm, you feel comfortable enough to sit up. The gossip will always happen, you just learned to accept that. Continuing to glance at him, and you can’t stop. It’s unexplainable, but you aren’t the only one.

His dark blue orbs find a way to look towards you, and even smirks, “Do you only ever wear the dress and bonnet?”

“Just when I’m awake. Why?”

“Is it comfortable?” Not really. But it could be worse.

“It’s not uncomfortable,” you can’t truly be honest. So you feel.

“I see. But you don’t particularly enjoy it,” at least he understood what you meant. “So the women here, they’re job is to learn to keep a house, and then you marry off and do just that?”

“Yes,” it makes it sound so simple, and you almost want to curse what a quaint life you live. You weren’t given the opportunity to have dreams or want more. The dream was to marry, have kids, have your own home. You even wonder if your desires to marry was because you were told that’s what you did.

“Hmm,” he contemplates, paying attention to the road even though he’s more interested in your thoughts on this topic. You didn’t seem to have the same goals as the other people here.

“It’s not a horrible life.”

“I guess not.”

“It has its perks,” you argue. “It’s beautiful out here. We have the ability to ignore the noise that everyone else surrounds themselves in. I might not have the luxury of having my own dreams, but being a wife and mother, and keeping a house up is an honorable life,” it was, if not boring in ways. You never had the chance to explore something more.

“I didn’t say it wasn’t. But you’re not married. Is there a reason?” You turn to look at him. Actually, look. Had there been a man in the community that looked like him, you might have considered it. This is just silly because now you’re being someone who judges another based on looks. “You don’t have to answer.”

“My father isn’t like most,” you have a good father. Older than most of the ones who had children your age. “I think a part of him didn’t want to see me unhappy. I had a few interested for my hand in marriage, but I didn’t want them, and he didn’t make me Mary them.”

“Why didn’t you want them?”

“It’s easy for men here to get away with their indiscretions. And I don’t want to marry out of duty, or have to bear children with a man I can’t stand to look at. That’s what they all want. Just a wife and her to birth his last name.”

“You mean sex. It’s what most men want.”

“Sex?” You look at him confused, shaking your head, “No, I mean children. Extending your legacy,” Ari chuckles, giving you a devious smile, and your chest constricts. “What?”

“Do you know what sex is?”

“I…I assure you that we’ve been talking too much,” you gulp, wishing that you could arrive in town faster. You aren’t sure what he’s talking about, but you are sure that you feel like you’re going to combust. There is a thickness in the cab that you can’t explain. A fiery pain that settles below your stomach, and…other places.

“So you don’t?”

“Ari, is this an appropriate conversation?”

“I’m assuming that it’s not, judging by your reaction, but I am now curious. Do you know how bearing children comes to happen?”

“I live on a farm, I’m well aware of how breeding works,” he snorts, and you turn to face him quickly, “What is so funny?”

“That you’re referring to it as breeding. I suppose that’s true, but with humans it can be so much more.”

“What does that mean?” The truck drifts to the side of the dirt road, and your thumbs twiddle nervously. The air becomes even thicker when he leans in closer to you. “Ari?”

“I’ll take it easy on you this time,” what does that even mean? Putting the truck into park, he faces you. “Has anyone, man or woman just made everything in your belly float around? Like there’s this weirdness inside of you, pricking your skin whenever they’re around, and your throat dries up, and you can’t talk, and…”

“Your belly feels empty like you need something to fill something inside of you,” Ari clears his throat, looking down at your lap, watching as your thighs twitch around.

“Yes. Exactly like you need to be filled with something.”

“I feel — have felt that way,” you agree, trying not to let him know that it is in fact him making you feel that way. “But it doesn’t always seem pleasant when the animals mate.”

“I assure you if a man knows what he’s doing it can be very pleasurable to you,” a noise you have never heard before squeaks out of your mouth, and you look down at your lap again. Heat didn’t even describe what you are feeling. A roaring fire or volcano getting ready to erupt, and the need to go to the bathroom to clean yourself is more accurate. What is going on with your body?

“If he knows what he’s doing he can take you to another plane of existence,” Ari has been in this odd town for a few weeks, and not so much as glanced at a woman since. Judging by your reaction you are understanding exactly what he is talking about. He adjusts his pants, turning back to look straight ahead. He is also getting uncomfortable, but not because of you. His uncomfort is himself. Hopefully for the same reasons you appear to wiggle around too much.

“The way he could make you feel without ever — entering your body. It's a pleasure beyond your wildest dreams. Learning another person’s body can be fun. It can be paradise.”

“Should we be having this conversation?”

“Probably not. So maybe we keep it to ourselves, and I’ll buy you something besides that dress to wear?” The ideas he has mulling in his mind of what he could put you in, he’s downright ashamed of.

“I could only wear them inside your house.”

“I was only wanting you to wear them for me anyways, Darling,” fuck. He’s fucking fucked. A quick flash of you submissively getting to your knees as he paints your lips with precum comes to his mind. Your mouth slowly opens as you innocently let his cock breach your lips. Looking so pretty as you stare up at him. Fuck.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @pandaxnienke @rogersbarber @buckybarnesisdaddy @theinheriteddutchess

[vexingwoman]

girlypop I have a question about your post with the rancid ass take about what jobs men apparently should no longer take. What the fuck do you actually expect men to do?? Because if we go with your suggestion to kick men out of all professions where they might encounter a woman at some point, the only option left would be to stay at home and do nothing all day while the wife does literally everything, which in my books is the exact opposite of feminism (equality) but okay pop off ig 💀

Terfs: ugh men are so shit and stupid and do nothing all day

Men: do a reputable job that helps people

Terfs: ugh how fucking DARE they

Like make it make sense girl

The common denominator among the professions I listed in that post wasn’t simply that men “might encounter a woman at some point.” The common denominator was men, either in positions of authority or asymmetrical power dynamics, having guaranteed and unsupervised access to highly vulnerable individuals.

Men themselves repeatedly demonstrate that these are not positions which they are worthy of when they commit atrocity after atrocity against the individuals under their supervision.

And you know, I could the take time to really showcase why excluding men from these professions is necessary. I could dole out the usual statistics on male depravity, and how it unequivocally spikes when men have access to women who are either undressed, unconscious, isolated, mentally handicapped, or underage. I could mention the frequency of male morticians raping corpses, or the frequency of male prison guards sexually exploiting female inmates, or the frequency of male therapists molesting or fantasizing about their female patients.

I could mention all the Larry Nassars of the medical world, like the male anesthesiologist who raped countless unconscious women, or the male doctor who carved his initials onto women’s abdomens during C-sections, or all the male gynecologists who have been caught taking pictures of women’s vulvas during exams. I could even bring up the fact that in most of these professions, you already have the option to choose a female provider, because other people besides evil radical feminists like myself recognize how catastrophic it can be to give men of authority unsupervised access to highly vulnerable individuals.

But it would all be futile, because at the end of the day, I’m never going to be convinced that naively giving men the benefit of the doubt is ever worth increasing the risk of female victimization, even by a minuscule amount. In reality, assuming the worst in men is often the safest and most reasonable approach, no matter how hurtful your ego may find it. And if that offends you so much, take it up with the men who created these fucking circumstances.

[volturiprincess]

From the other side

Demetri Volturi x F newborn vampire

Warnings: Foul language, death, mentions of a Emetophobia, I bash on the Cullens here A/N: This was a request by @kpopgirlbtssvt, I got to say I enjoyed working on this. Its been a while since I worked on an actual long one-shot request but I hope the wait was worth it, and I might of changed some ideas on the request slightly (but still stayed on topic). Enjoy💙 Word Count: 4k+ (wow)

_____________________________

(He's just so gorgeous🥰)

“I think she’s waking up”

“How do you know?”

“Well you can see her eyeball moving Emmett, I'm no doctor but I think that is a sign she is waking up”

“Oh well sorry Mister Smartypants, didn't know I was in the presences of an expert”

“Focus, should we fetch Carlisle? He said he would be back soon but what if he’s already here?”

“I'll check, you stay here incase she starts moving around, wouldn't want her newborn instincts to kill Nessie”

“Fairpoint”

Why do I feel so strange? Where the hell am I? Maybe I should wake up, maybe the one with the southern accent could give me answers. I force myself to wake up and when I do everything seems so different. Everything seems so focused, enhanced, so…perfect. When has my vision ever been this good? I know I've been neglecting my glasses quite often but even with my glasses on I never had such good eyesight, I always thought I never needed them. I sit up slowly to check my surroundings. Crap! Where am I? What even happened to me? 

Flashback….

Just left my final class of the day, Anatomy is such a pain in the ass really. Why did I decide to take both Anatomy 1 and Genetics in the same semester? But I mean it's worth it, get the harder classes out of the way and then I can maybe squeeze in other classes I am interested in before graduating. I clinged my heavy textbooks to my chest tighter as I tiredly made my way to my small apartment. I got lucky that this place was cheap compared to living on campus, and the bonus to it is that my place is about 5 minutes away from campus. I heard the school bell ring signaling some class has ended, instantly I'm surrounded by a swarm of students like me. All of them either off to  their next class, or home, or even getting a late lunch. I was slightly pushed around until I managed to find an opening but not everything can go to plan. As I was trying to get to the opening someone shoved me a bit too hard and the books I was clutching flew out of my arms, I went along with them.

I heard a simple “My bad” and then I was met with silence. I hurriedly picked up my stuff and saw how people just looked but didn't help or offer a hand. Situations like this makes me want to just disappear. Just be able to get to point A to B without any mishaps. I composed myself mentally and continued my walk to my apartment. Considering it's only 5, it's already pitch black. I don't like walking alone at night, sure I’m a night owl, but I like to be alone in a safe space. As I'm walking I felt that weird feeling of being watched, it's like a sixth sense to me at this point, please tell me it's just my paranoia and not real. I do a quick scan and I'm met with no one but silence that makes an exception to the far off train horn. I hurried off trying to shake off that paranoia until I bumped into what I thought was a wall (ended up being a ‘human’)and then I was met with darkness.

Present…

I felt my eyes fill with tears but I soon noticed they would not fall, I tried blinking but nothing happened. I went to wipe my eyes with my hand instead but felt my hand move abnormally faster. Okay what the heck? I know I sometimes have my days where my reflexes kick in or not but I have never been able to move that fast. And as if on cue my throat felt so dry, I felt like I could drain the pacific and yet that would not be enough to satisfy the level of thirst I have. I tried swallowing but noticed that it didn't even help or even do anything.

“Carlisle should be here soon with something to subdue the thirst”

My gaze snaps to the man who is casually keeping guard at the door. The way he stood made me think he was maybe in the military or something. Why is he beautiful? His blonde locks styled perfectly and his eyes… Are they gold? I have never seen that type of eye color on someone before, I mean I have read a book where one of the characters had pirate gold eyes but in person that’s strange.

“Wh-wha- where am I?”

The way his gaze slowly met mine gave me the creeps, it was like from a scene of a horror movie, where if you spot something from a distance and then you blink, they are right in front of you, killing you.

“Carlisle will answer your questions”

“Why can't you?”

“I'm not in a position to be telling you stuff, all I'm here is to keep you calm since you are a newborn”

“A newborn?”

And then I was met with silence, he turned away from me so he was back to facing the wall like he was previously. 

“Could I at least get your name?”

“Jasper Whitlock, ma’am”

What feels like ages, another man walks in with a big guy. The first one seems like he is the one in charge around here, he seemed nice. He had a calm presence within, but the other guy seemed like he was ready to pick up a fight, probably the muscles around here. Now that I'm thinking about it more, am I in some sort of mafia? But these guys don't seem all that scary, maybe the big one and the Jasper guy. The calm one got closer to me and offered me a cup.

“Here drink this, it should help with the thirst”

I crabbed the cup hesitantly, hoping it wouldn't kill me, and drank it desperately. Finishing it in milliseconds, I did feel a small relief but I still had that feeling of an intense thirst. 

“We will give you more later but I think you deserve an explanation”

“You think”

He smiled gently but nodded “Well to start of you are not human anymore, you might of picked that up slightly since you have woken up”

Not human anymore? But what could I possibly be then? What have they done to me? Am I a monster now?

“You are now a newborn, a vampire to be exact”

That right there was the biggest mick drop of my life. What does he mean i'm a-a vampire? Those exist? I thought they were just myths, that they are just some made up thing that people build up over the years. But now I'm somehow one now? This shit can't be real, he probably has me on some drugs on something. Yeah that's right, probably drugged me and I'm trapped in some dream or something.

“I can see your in denial, there’s really no way to really explain it but you really are a vampire, that cup you drank from was filled with blood, deer blood to be exact”

Oh heck no. I drank blood? I never had a problem with blood, I mean I have a major in the medical field for a reason. Just can't get over vomiting, that's just a big phobia of mine, someone throws up and I'm literally about to faint. But enough of that.

“You gotta be joking here, vampires do not exist, there just myths”

“Well with all honesty here, I assure you I'm not joking, not with the times we are facing now”

“And what is that?”

“Well my family and I are in a bit of a dilemma, you see we have engaged another coven of vampires, and they are threatening to kill our family over a misunderstanding”

“Pardon my language, but what the fuck? What do you mean ‘another coven of vampires’ and a supposed death threat, there's more of you guys out there?”

The big guy chuckled slightly at my foul language and I heard him mumble a “Oh I like her, she’s way more funny than Bella”

“Yes well you see, our kind if basically spread out around the world, this other coven of vampires are living in Italy, but this coven is basically like our government, royalty you can say even, there more dangerous than us, they feed on human blood and they have gifts that can wipe out humanity in an instant”

Ok this other coven sounds scary, wipe out humanity? What the hell did this guy and his family do to anger them anyways, must be pretty serious.

“So let me guess this straight, you and your family have angered this powerful coven of vampires who can in your words wipe out humanity and…are doing what now?”

“Well we been gathering witness to help us avoid a fight with this coven”

“I see but what exactly did you do to anger this coven of powerful vampires then?”

“My son and his new wife had a baby”

“A baby? I'm sorry I don't see a problem here”

“Vampires cannot recreate, that's what I thought until my then human daughter-in-law got pregnant”

“Ok? Still not seeing a problem here”

“I guess an easier way to explain is as I said vampires cannot recreate, we are biologically not able to do such thing between two vampires, but between a vampire male and female human, it's possible but the problem here is the Volturi believe we have created an immortal child, which we didn't”

“I see so then why do they believe you created an immortal child? And also what is an immortal child?”

“An immortal child is a child what was turned into a vampire, there stuck as a child for eternity and cannot control their thirst or be calmed or even age, they are in modern terminology are illegal, and to answer the other question, apparently hybrids are not common and they did not know about them existing”

 The more he answers my questions, the more I think I am definitely dreaming, no way in hell is all of this real. Why am I even being roped into this? I was just some human who was just trying to be a Physician and now that dream is out the window because I'm apparently a vampire now. I need to wake up, this cannot be my life right now, I have so much to live for still. Sure I was quiet and not in some relationship but I still liked the life I had. 

“Now the real question here is, why or how am I even part of this?”

They were all quiet instantly and none of them were making eye contact with me. Ok weird… I mean even the big guys amused look was gone and that guy answering my questions with a small smile was also gone. Something here does not feel right. Someone burst into the room, which freaked me out a bit because this guy along with his buddy looked intimidating with all their leather and the intense red eyes. I felt a weird current roll down my body and then I heard gasps. The Jasper dude looked at me with wide eyes, well everyone was looking at me with the same wide eyes. 

“She’s gone!”

“No I don't think so Emmett, she’s gifted”

“What are the odds of finding one that is gifted”

“Not very likely”

Why are they all talking about me as if I wasn't there?

“Um i'm right here”

The ‘nice’ one spoke up first “Well it seems you have a gift miss, your invisible currently”

“Seriously?” I looked down and as he said I am indeed invisible. Maybe that weird current I felt earlier was me triggering this. Should I tell him this?

“How were you able to do that?”

“I don't know, I um felt a weird feeling run through me after those two over there came in”

“Vladimir and Stefan triggered it? Hmm it seems it came from fear then, interesting”

So those are their names, I wonder who is who. My wild guess is the platinum blonde is Vladimir and the dark haired one is Stefan. 

As if he knew I was talking about him, the platinum started to speak “So you were desperate enough for witnesses that you created a newborn? That’s low even for you Carlisle. At least she’s gifted but even then she probably has no combat skills so she won't be able to tear heads off if the time comes”

Ok y/n, let's think about becoming visible, I don't like how they're just staring at me like that, and also speaking smack about me either. Smoke started to surround me for a minute and when I looked at my hands to see I was now visible. Again I heard the gasp. 

“How did you do that?”

“I was just thinking about wanting to be visible”

“Well that’s good to know how your gift works”

“I guess”

Carlisle, it took him like thirty minutes to tell me his name, started to explain the situation more and even introduced me to the other members of his family. Jasper along with his friend taught me some basic combat skills in case a fight broke out with the confrontation. But the weird thing I discovered was when I met the infamous son, Edward, I was able to read his mind when he was reading mine, he gave me a funky look each time and tried to reduce his thoughts as much as he could. 

Funny enough but also traumatizing, he was always thinking about his honeymoon with his wife. I do not need to know how his child was conceived. When I met Alice a similar thing happened, she spaced out (which I found out she does when she has a vision) and I saw me with another figure, a man to be exact. The man in the vision was gorgeous, I never knew such a person could exist, he looked like a greek god. I think I might have another gift but I'm not sure I should tell Carlisle, there's just something off about why he won't tell me about how I became a vampire or what happened to me that night. 

—-------------------------------

Today is the day of the confrontation. Just last night I found out about vampires and now I might face death himself. And just today I found out werewolves or shifters exist, is everything in the books true then? I can feel my chest curl into itself and I feel myself internally hyperventilating. Can vampires do that? Well if they can that is exactly what is happening to me. I was placed between Vladimir and Stefan because apparently I should blend in and be more in the background then in front with the others. The Cullens think if the Volturi find out about me they might face a punishment of some sort.

But these two vampires are freaking me out slightly, they had an eye on me constantly, as if I were some criminal or something. With the confrontation I am fighting the urge to just disappear, I don't want part in this. It's not like I could be of help anyways, I can't really turn invisible on command, it just happens and turning visible doesn't always work when I want it to. The other gift I have, I still have no idea how it works or what it is exactly. 

Everyone is standing on guard waiting for the Volturi to arrive. I think the longer we wait the longer I feel my anxiety rise. I saw Vladimir move slightly, I followed his gaze to see a whole army of cloaked figures, they all moved in sync and let a smaller group move forward, those are definitely the kings with their guards. When they all stopped walking, they removed their cloaks and my eyes widened in shock. Why are they all really good looking? The big guy looks even more scary than Emmett, he’s basically towering over everyone. The other two I see are what I can assume are twins, they look alike except for the girl having blonde hair and the guy having brown hair. I heard the others say they are the most dangerous ones. I look at the kings, the only one who looks like he would kill everyone is the blonde one, he seems like the anger issues type of guy- err vampire. 

It seems I forgot to analyze another guard, he was slightly out of my view but how can anyone ignore his presence. I think this was the guy from Alice vision, in person he's more gorgeous. His lovely blonde hair styled to look like spikes, how his face is so symmetrical, he was indeed handcrafted by the gods.

I saw his gaze shift to meet mine, and oh dear gosh, a strong feeling overcame me. I don't even know what this feeling is, it's like an invisible string is trying to pull me toward him. I want to give in but I'm scared of what this is and I'm also scared that I might die right here. His focus was on me the whole time as the others spoke, there was even a point where he turned to the bored looking vampire to ask something which concluded with a nod from him. 

I don't even know what to center my fear right now, the fear from what is happening or the fear of this strange feeling I have with the breathtaking vampire. My attention on him was paused as I saw the blonde twin try to do something but that Bella girl used her shield, the blonde girl even looked at me but something odd happened. She clutched herself as if she was in agonizing pain and fell to her knees, my eyes widened slightly as her twin brother was at her side trying to somewhat resolve her pain.

Even the other Volturi members were shocked, the same twin boy turned his gaze to us and the anger that reflected his eyes was the most terrifying thing to witness. Out of his pure instincts he released a black smoke that also came out of my hands. I started to panic and the witnesses around me were also panicking, a bunch of them hissed for me to stop but I didn't know how or what was even happening.

A loud stop from the Volturi's side made everything go back to normal, the smoke was gone, the girl who was in pain stopped clutching herself and the boy's face was back to its resting form. Even the smoke I somehow had coming out of my hands had vanished. The king in the middle was the one who shouted stop from what I can tell.

“And who is this? She seems to have a very similar ability to one of my guards”

Carlisle who still had a confused looked form the earlier actions done by me “She’s part of Vladimir’s and Stefan’s coven”

The way the two vampires looked at Carlisle at the mention of their name would have left him buried six feet under. I could tell whatever plan the doctor had in mind was not planned. I mean even I was not aware of the plan to start off with, I was just told to stay quiet in the back and not turn invisible until they commanded me to. Vladimir not wanting to be thrown under the bridge or face any death just like me didn't let his voice be unheard 

“Still low of you Carlisle, he’s lying to you”

The look on the vampire king's face can be best described as if someone stabbed him in the back.

“Oh? Please do tell”

“She’s a newborn that Carlisle himself turned just recently”

“Oh my, bring her forward now”

I looked around the witness who was just staring at me as if I grew a second head. Carlisle gave me a look to go to them, so I walked toward the other coven, twiddling my fingers to try to calm my nerves down. So this is it then? This is how I die? As I got closer the elegant vampire kept his gaze on me, it almost looked like he was forcing himself to not go to me, like he was chained down. When I was a good ten feet away from them the tall muscular vampire one grabbed me. He had a strong hold on me, if I were human, painful bruises would indeed be forming at that instant. Again that handsome vampire looked like he was about to go to me but he stood his ground. The raven one came to me closer to introduce himself

“Hello dear, what is your name?”

“Y/n”

“Now do you mind offering me your hand?”

“My hand?”

He looked a bit impatient but smiled, a creepy smile but smiled nevertheless. “Well you see I have gift of being able to look at every thought and memory with just a touch”

“Oh, I see”

I offered my hand and was instantly reliving my every thought and memory as he said but as for my incidents with Edward, Alice, and the twins I could see his every thought and memory. I saw that he wanted Alice to be part of his coven, he was thinking of just forgiving the Cullens, I even saw memories of the handsome guard who I found out his name is Demetri. It just rolls out so naturally, it's as if I was born to say his name. Aro let go of my hand after a while with a bewildered look

“Interessante, I’m sorry for the troubles you been through, but it appears you have two gifts–”

Before he could continue, the sad looking vampire rested a hand on Aro’s shoulder and he turned to him to grab his hand like he did with me. With this case when I looked at the emotionless vampire I was able to see a red string that was connecting me and Demetri. It was the richests of red I have ever seen, come to think about it, it looks like his eyes. When he let go, Aro made one of the creepiest laughs I have ever heard to humankind, straight from a horror film. 

“It appears our own Demetri has found his mate”

If I could I would shiver at the mention of Demetri’s name. The mentioned name looked at the kings with anticipation, I mean I for sure wanted answers of what is going to happen.

“Felix you can let her go now, she’s no danger to us, on the contrary she’s going to join us”

I was let go by Felix “Join you? Why?”

“Well you see dear you are the mate to one of our guards, and we would hate for him to be miserable or lack on his missions if his mate is not kept safe, maybe with time you could join him in missions”

If I'm getting this straight, if I don't join then my ‘mate’, that’s a strong word to use, will be sad and won't be able to do his job correctly. Or I stay with the people who basically kidnapped me from the life I had, turned me into this bloodthirsty monster –currently I am still thirsty– and just threw me into a situation that I was nowhere prepared for. But again I don't even know Demetri, what if he’s cruel, what if he treats me like the Cullens? My thoughts started to spiral at a point where I was one with my mind and nothing around me existed anymore. If it weren't for the husky addicting voice I would have gone mental.

“Master? May I have a word with her?”

“Go ahead, she’s your mate after all”

I felt the warmth of his soft yet rough hands. I looked into his eyes and he gave me a small hesitant smile, oh I can get used to that. I need to see his real smile now.

“Hello cariño, I am Demetri, I am aware you know nothing about me neither do I about you, but I can promise you if you come with me and my coven, I will give you anything you want, give you a life humans can never come close to having, I will promise you an eternity of love and happiness”

So this is love? The way he speaks is straight from a romance novel. And the way his face glows makes it all more sincere and truthful, heck I just want to run away with him. I was about to say something to him when I heard them. The Cullens along with their witnesses whispering about me.

“A traitor”

“All that hard work to get her here for her just to abandon us”

“I knew there was something off about her”

“Carlisle do something”

“She can’t go”

“If she goes with them, then the Volturi have more power”

“She would be stupid to go with them”

“Indeed”

“She was a mistake”

I wanted to use that gift to disappear at that moment, I didn't ask to be placed in this situation to start off with. I was forced and manipulated. 

“You promise”

His hesitant smile turned genuine “I promise amore, forever and always”

Aro literally was beaming with anticipation for my decision, reminding me of a child waiting for the final decision of their parents to let them go to a sleepover at a friend's house. I nodded which caused Aro to clap with joy 

“Magnifico my dear” His attention turned to the vampires behind me “She will be coming with us, if you dare interfere, we will wipe you out without hesitation”

Ok that’s scary but I can tell he’s serious. I could see the blonde king with a proud smirk but Demetri pulled me into his side.

“Nobody will ever take you away from me from now on”

I gave him a weak smile as we walked off the snowy battleground. I didn't ask for this new life, but maybe it won't be so bad with him. 

[lvnleah]

004. | the secret’s out

word count: 2k

find the masterlist here!

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November 16th 2023 | 20 weeks pregnant.

When you and Leah had been given the rare chance to have an evening away together, you knew you couldn’t say no.

Usually, weekends and overnight stays took place during the offseason but because Leah was out with her ACL it meant that you had a rare opportunity to go away for the night.

With you now being twenty weeks pregnant, your bump was fairly large and noticeable. You and Leah spent a few hours researching different places close to your house but still far enough away to spend the evening away.

You wanted to be close to home because of your hyperemesis gravidarum. It had been five weeks since you’d received your diagnosis and you had things under control.

You were keeping your diet bland and eating small but every few hours like your doctor had suggested. It was starting to settle down but the nausea and tiredness remained, luckily you hadn’t been hospitalised yet.

Leah had found a little cottage that was in a coastal town a few hours away from your house in St Albans. The photos looked perfect, it was a little cottage settled up in the hills that overlooked the beach with its own stairs leading down to the sand.

You and Leah instantly booked it before packing an overnight bag. The next day you and Leah had your twenty-week ultrasound where your doctor wrote down the gender of your baby.

A few days prior, you’d both agreed to give the paper to Lia who was then going to sort out a box of things in either the colour blue or pink for you and Leah to find out. It just so happened that it worked out with the night away and that you and Leah were going to be able to have your gender revealed on the beach.

Lia had dropped the box off before you and Leah set off on the drive to the cottage, it was hard for you both to not open the box on the drive there. It was a three-hour drive, you spent the first two catch up on the sleep you’d lost out on, but during the last hour, you still found it hard to not think about the tiny box.

You both found it even harder when you had to go the whole day without opening it. Leah had surprised you with a spa day, something you hadn’t had in a while.

At the spa, Leah insisted on spoiling you with treatments tailored to your pregnancy. You indulged in a gentle prenatal massage, which melted away the stress you'd been carrying in your lower back.

Leah, meanwhile, enjoyed a deep-tissue massage and some time in the sauna. You couldn’t deny that you were jealous that she got to use the sauna and you didn’t.

For a moment, the constant nausea and fatigue that had plagued you seemed to disappear, replaced by a sense of calm. You and Leah floated between treatments, holding hands and exchanging smiles, the anticipation of the evening's reveal simmering beneath the surface.

After your time at the spa, Leah drove you both to a little café overlooking the sea. The weather was perfect, clear skies with a gentle breeze that carried the scent of saltwater. You sat by the window, picking at a simple but satisfying meal of toast and soup, while Leah had a classic ham sandwich. She kept glancing out towards the beach, her knee bouncing with restless energy.

“Are you sure we can’t just open the box now?” Leah asked impatiently.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “No way. It’ll be worth the wait.”

After lunch, you took a stroll along the shoreline. The sand was cool beneath your feet, as Leah walked beside you, occasionally picking up interesting shells or stones, her arm securely around your waist.

When the sun began to set, you and Leah returned to the cottage to freshen up. As you changed into a comfortable dress that flattered your growing bump, you noticed Leah pacing around the living room, the small box clutched tightly in her hands.

“Ready?” she asked, her voice tinged with excitement as she held out her free hand to you.

“Ready,” you replied, taking her hand and following her out to the private staircase leading down to the beach.

The sand was soft and cool beneath your bare feet as you found a spot just beyond the reach of the waves. Leah set the box down on a blanket she had spread out, and the two of you sat side by side, the anticipation almost tangible in the air around you.

Sitting on the blanket, you and Leah took a moment to savour the anticipation before opening the box. You both exchanged nervous smiles, your hands tightly clasped together.

Leah looked at you, her eyes filled with a mixture of excitement and tenderness. “You know, no matter what, I’m so grateful to be doing this with you,” she said softly. “Our little one is going to be so lucky to have you as a mum.”

You squeezed her hand, feeling a lump in your throat. “I’m grateful too. You’ve been amazing through everything, and I can’t wait to see you with our baby. They’re going to have the best Mumma.”

She leaned in and kissed your forehead, her touch gentle and reassuring. “Are you ready?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement swirling inside you. “I’m ready.”

Leah nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Okay, let’s do this. On the count of three?”

You nodded, and together you counted down. “One… two… three…”

With the sun setting behind you, Leah finally opened the box. Inside was a cluster of things, their colour hidden by a layer of tissue paper. She carefully peeled the tissue away, her breath catching in her throat.

When the tissue paper was pulled away an assortment of different things in the colour blue were revealed, and a wave of emotion washed over you. Your breath caught in your throat, and tears of joy sprang to your eyes. The realisation that you were having a boy felt both surreal and deeply moving.

Leah's arms wrapped around you immediately, pulling you into a tight embrace. You could feel her heart pounding against your own, both of you overwhelmed by emotion

Your hand instinctively went to your belly, and you whispered, "A boy. We’re having a boy."

Leah pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, “Our little boy,” she echoed, before pulling you into her lips.

“Oh my god,” you whispered as you both pulled back, “We're having a baby boy.”

Leah nodded, “A boy,” she repeated, “I can’t believe it. Oh my god.”

As you and Leah walked back to the cottage, the excitement of discovering you were having a baby boy left you both giddy. It felt like Christmas Eve, the air buzzing with the thrill of the news and the dreams of your future.

Inside the cottage, you wasted no time heading to bed, eager to unwind from the day’s emotions. You changed into your pyjamas, and Leah, still beaming, joined you under the covers.

She nestled close, resting her head gently against your growing bump. “I still can’t believe it,” she murmured, her voice filled with awe. “Our little boy.”

You smiled, running your fingers through her hair. “I know. I keep imagining what he’ll be like, what we’ll name him…”

You gasped, your hand flying to your belly. “Leah! I think I just felt him kick.”

Leah’s eyes widened, and she sat up immediately, placing her hand where yours rested. “Really? Was it strong?”

“Not very, but I felt it,” you said as a smile spread across your face. “Here, place your hand there.”

For the next few minutes, you both waited in eager anticipation. Leah kept her hand still, her face a mix of concentration and excitement. You tried to stay as relaxed as possible, hoping your son would give his moms another kick.

“I can’t feel anything yet,” Leah whispered, her brow furrowing.

You shifted slightly, giving your bump a gentle pat. “Come on, little guy, just one more kick for Mumma.”

Then it happened.

A stronger, unmistakable kick. Leah’s eyes widened in excitement and shock as she felt it too. “Oh my God, I felt it! I felt him kick!” she exclaimed, her voice hushed but filled with excitement.

You both broke into laughter, overwhelmed by the sheer joy of sharing this first with each other. Leah hugged you tightly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“He’s already making sure we know he’s going to be a footballer,” she said softly, her voice choking with emotion.

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes again. “I can’t wait to meet him.”

For the rest of the night, you lay there together, Leah’s hand never leaving your bump. Now and then, your baby boy would strike a kick against Leah’s hand sending you both into fits of laughter.

The night of discovering you were having a baby boy left you and Leah in a whirl of excitement, making sleep elusive. The thrill of the first kick and the anticipation of your baby’s arrival filled your thoughts, and you spent hours talking and dreaming about the future.

A few days later, once back home, you hosted a small gender reveal party for your closest family and friends. The living room was decorated with blue and pink streamers, and a large black balloon filled with confetti hovered in the centre.

Leah’s parents, Jacob, her cousins, grandma and uncle, Keira and most of her Arsenal teammates gathered around, their faces glowing with anticipation.

Leah held your hand as you both stood beside the balloon, her smile infectious. “Ready?” she asked, squeezing your hand gently.

“Ready,” you replied, sharing a quick, excited glance with her.

“Alright!” Leah shouted, “It’s time to pop this balloon!”

“I just want to say, thank you all for being here today and showing our bubba so much love!” You said, smiling as your hand rested on your bump. “They’re truly going to be spoiled and I can’t wait for you to find out if they’re a boy or girl!”

Leah smiled, “Can we get a countdown?”

With everyone counting down, Leah handed you a pin. You took a deep breath and popped the balloon, releasing a shower of blue confetti into the air. Cheers and applause erupted from the room, and you and Leah laughed, caught in a joyful embrace.

Amanda cried tears of happiness, Jacob jumped up and down before hugging Leah, and your friends clapped and cheered. Amongst the excitement, you caught a glimpse of Leah’s eyes. They were filled with tears as she tried her hardest to hold them back.

Later that evening, after everyone had left and the last piece of confetti had been swept away, you and Leah cuddled on the couch, wrapping yourselves in a cosy blanket. Leah’s arm draped around you, her fingers gently tracing circles on your belly as you settled into the warm cocoon of your shared happiness.

You sighed contentedly, leaning into Leah. “Today was perfect. I loved seeing everyone’s reactions.”

Leah chuckled, her eyes crinkling with amusement. “Jacob’s face when he saw the blue confetti was priceless. He looked so happy.”

You laughed, nodding. “And your mums reaction! She was so overjoyed. I think she’s already planning all the things she’s going to buy for him.”

Leah grinned, her expression softening. “I loved how everyone was so supportive and happy for us. It made everything feel even more real.”

You nestled closer. “I can’t wait to see our little boy surrounded by so much love. He’s going to have the best family.”

Leah’s hand rested protectively over your bump. “He really will,” she said softly, her voice tinged with emotion. “And he’s going to have the best parents.”

You looked up at her, your heart swelling with affection. “We’re pretty lucky, aren’t we?”

Leah nodded, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “We are but I think I’m the luckiest,” she smiled, “I love you, pretty girl.”

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liked by bethmead and 104,563 others

leahwilliamsonn baby williamson coming April 2024 👶🏻🤍 so proud of my wife 🫶🏻

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y/n.williamson excited to be a Mumma with you ❤️

view 10 replies liked by 207 others

bethmead_ Auntie Beffy can’t wait 👶🏻❤️

view 2 replies liked by 104 others

lionesses Congrats! We can’t wait to meet them!

view 5 replies liked by 187 others

liawaelti congrats, so much love 👶🏻🥰

view 3 replies liked by 178 others

keirawalsh I’ll teach them how to ride a bike x

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kyracooneyx I’ll baby sit!

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mbaker1971 Can’t wait for the bubba to arrive ❤️

view 13 replies liked by 156 others

jenbeattie auntie jenny 😍

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viviannemiedema baby williamson 😍👶🏻

view 7 replies liked by 111 others

jacobwilliamson10 little spurs fan on the way!

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[hamlets-ak]

even at my worst ? even then ༊*·˚

m.list ◦ askbox

synopsis: timothée taking care of you while you’re ill (hcs)

when you first call to tell him that you’re ill, his first reaction is hysteria. every attempt of you to calm him down goes in vain and he completely ignores your warnings to not come over.

« i’m gonna be just fine, tim. it’s just a cold, really- » « i’m on my way. »

he quickly rushes to your flat, wanting to make sure that you’re okay himself.

« hey, how you feeling ? »

he sits on the bed beside you and places a hand on your forehead, before leaning down to press his lips on your temple to gauge your temperature.

« i thought you said it was just a cold. you’re burning up ! » « i’m fine stop fussing over me. » « you’re not ‘fine.’ »

you push him away and even though you are very thankful, you plead with him to go home. but he is not going anywhere. timothée just wants to be by your side, no matter what you tell him and how hard you try to urge him to go home, he is not leaving until you get better.

« i’m here to take care of you and i’m not leaving until you’re well again. »

he never imagined himself caring so much for someone to the point of feeling such deep pain and wishing to switch places and take the illness from you.

he turns the house up and down trying to find the thermometer and when he finally does, he tries to take your temperature multiple times. your faces fall and you both look at it sceptical until tim decides to go to the pharmacy and get a new one.

« don’t you dare get out of bed ! »

despite his limited cooking skills, timothée tries to cook for you - makes you soup and brings it to your bed. he waits for you to finish or at least eat a decent amount. you can’t help but chuckle every time you glance up and catch him staring at you while biting his nails.

« i know it’s shit but you have to eat it. sorry. » « it’s not shit. it’s good. » « oh. wow. okay then. i’m glad it’s good. »

timothée still falls beside you and holds you regardless of your state. he’s willing to bet his own health because he knows, he won’t be able to forgive himself if he makes you feel unwanted or that you are a burden to him.

« you’re going to end up just like me. » « you’re worth catching a cold over. »

he wraps his arms around you, bringing you close, and snuggles with you. you lean into his touch, head resting on the crook of his neck as he brushes your hair back, out of your face and presses sweet kisses on top of your head.

« i feel horrible. » « i know babe, i know. »

you watch your favourite movies and shows all day, always with your commentary on top. he gives in to all your wishes and even if he doesn’t like them, he tolerates them just to see you smile again.

when you overcome the dizziness you rest together and he softly reads your favourite book. timothée cracks a smile while reading and he just can’t stop himself once he notices your eyes following along the lines or when you mumble them out loud at the same time.

his eyes are on you while you sleep and he doesn’t leave your side for a second.

« sleep, i’ll be right here. »

he hums gently while playing with your hair, unsure whether or not you are listening until slumber takes over him as well.

when your temperature is high, you deliriously confess your love to him. he tries to soothe you by whispering words of affection and holding your hand tight. timothée intertwines your fingers together as he tells you how much he loves you and that he can’t wait for you to get better.

« i hope you get well as soon as possible, it hurts to see you suffering like this. »

you get embarrassed every time you feel sick in front of him but he reassures you it’s alright and he doesn’t mind it as long as you feel better.

« i’m disgusting... » « no, not to me. »

when it comes to you he can turn into a true hypochondriac. if the fever doesn’t retreat soon, he immediately searches the symptoms online and prepares to call a doctor or take you to the nearest hospital in case it escalates.

the whole situation makes you laugh, even if your head is on fire. he smiles miserably at you and the sound of your laughter brings him comfort.

« do i amuse you ? » « yes. »

timothée respects your silence and doesn’t force you into engaging in conversation.

he calls your mum to inform her of your progress and he’s the one who mostly speaks with her when you don’t feel like talking to anyone other than him.

you’re the only thing that preoccupies his mind while he’s away. he tries to go on with his day but it seems impossible, knowing that you’re alone and sick.

tim checks his phone constantly for any new messages and phones you often to see how you’re doing, remind you to use the thermometer or ask if you need or crave anything.

on his way home, he sometimes brings you your favourite flowers or very specific things he knows that even though you didn’t ask for, you are probably going to change your mind later.

timotée fills you up with his day and tells you all about his silly little encounters as he gently places a hand on your forehead before using the thermometer and helps you change into clean clothes.

it warms his heart watching you getting better and better day by day, becoming more talkative and eager to participate in lengthy conversations, laughing louder and smiling as you both sit on your bed with legs crossed, play cards and eat all the junk he got.

[fatuismooches]

hello, this is my first time doing something like this on tumblr but I had an idea and thought it might be worth talking about qvq

what do you think of a fragile reader who, upon waking up from their coma, felt really homesick? and how would dottore and his segments react to this? i’d imagine the shock of waking up in a completely different country being really overwhelming, and want to hear your thoughts TvT

Surprisingly, this is one of the times when Dottore won't be a stranger to your feelings. He very clearly remembers when he had to adapt to Snezhnaya, all the things that were so different from what he was used to. Now, he's completely adjusted to it, but the most important part is that he and the segments are very much lying to themselves when they claim to not miss their homeland. No matter how much you pry, him ever admitting to longing for the place that kicked him out is a far-fetched fantasy. Still... the feeling nags at him sometimes if he lets his mind drift, though he quickly occupies himself to prevent it from spreading.

Dottore predicted this happening, after all, it doesn't take a genius to know that such a dramatic shift in scenery can take a toll on the mind, especially considering your illness. You're intrigued for a short while, taking in the blankets of snow that cover the ground as far as your eyes can see, wondering how the droplets of snow feel on you. However, it doesn't take long for the homesickness to creep in. You long to bask in the sun, to run around and roll in the soft grass, holler at him from the trees at him like you used to as a student. There's no doubt Snezhnaya is beautiful in its own way, but you can't help but remember what you've lost, and won't get back for a long time. Still, your lover will do his best to prevent the dreariness from seeping into you, coupled with your illness, it won't end well. Granted, Dottore is Dottore, so it's going to be a lil awkward, but he won't let you hurt by yourself. He'll let you sob in his arms about how scary this all is if you really need to.

He and the segments are a good listening ear when they're not intensely focused on their work - perhaps this is the most comforting part, knowing that he too has experienced something similar to you. He listens to you reminisce about your homeland, all the things you miss there and want to go back to do one day, him included of course. He'll ask the chefs to prepare your favorite foods from there (imagine how shocked they are to see him considering how he seems to eat once in a blue moon.) He'll somehow get music spincrystals of your favorite tunes. Clothes, snacks, books, scents, random items - Dottore will make a quiet note of anything you mention that could be acquired. He's no Pantalone, he doesn't splurge mindlessly but carefully analyzes each thing to see if it'll help ease your homesickness. Still, he knows in the end that these are all material items and can't actually replace the sensation of home, so he'll keep a close eye on your state.

However, the biggest thing he can offer you is the promise of taking you back to your homeland one day. You can only place your trust in your doctor and hope he fulfills your request.

[luvnami]

not a glory hole! - chapter 10

an | mlist cw | mdni (18+)

“ushijima-san?”

even though you’re right in front of him, ushijima feels like you’re unreachable. the both of you stand in your dim living room. streetlights cast their long, pale beams of yellow through the windows, providing just enough light for you to make out the features of ushijima’s face. 

“are you okay?” you ask. “do you need my help? ah, your crutches-”

“i want to apologise for the other night.”

you blink, then take in a slow, deep breath. 

“ushijima-san, i really appreciate you saying that.”

the knot in his stomach loosens.

“but i’ve just had a long day, and it’s almost midnight. can we talk about this another time?” 

it then strikes ushijima that it’s more than an hour past his bedtime and that he has training in the morning. judging from your slumped shoulders and hoarse voice, you’ve probably been busy all day at work. 

“yeah.” he pauses. “i just thought that i should let you know as soon as possible, and i was worried since you weren't back yet, so…” 

it’s unusual for ushijima to ramble. he stops himself and swallows his words before he says anything more he can regret. 

“i’m sorry,” he finally confesses.

you laugh lightly. it’s a gentle, quiet sound. 

“no, no. you’re alright, ushijima-san. i have a change of schedule now that we’re interviewing late night diners, so i’ll be home later than usual. thank you for worrying, though. it’s very sweet.”

the strange, suffocating feeling in ushijima’s chest disappears. you gaze up at him, hair a little mussed from being out all day, but the smile you give him is pure.

unknowingly, ushijima assumed your kindness had its limits. one day, you’d decide that you were tired of him, that he was more trouble than what was it was worth (he could buy his own jackets and pencil boxes, after all. why would someone else have to do it for him?). he’d hurt less if he put up his walls and shut you out before you became his weakness.

ushijima can cook for himself. he can buy his own books, visit his doctor appointments alone, water his houseplants himself. with you, though, it’s a little less lonely. 

he lets you pull him out of the waters. 

“you’re welcome. have a good night.”

“good night, ushijima-san.”

“you don’t have to be so formal around me, you know?”

you laugh again. ushijima smiles. 

“alright. good night, wakatoshi-kun.”

[blingblong55]

Funny Feeling -141

Photo credit: @ave661 (left)

A/N: König will be done in the next post, I'm sorry I couldn't add him to this one..

Not a request but my own need for this:

141&Konig find out (same time as you do) that you have PCOS. You of course are sad because of the fertility issues and all the problems this condition brings, but not to worry, your partner is here to help and uplift you.  ---- F!Reader, reader with pcos, fluff, angst, comfort, established!realtionship, tw: self worth issues ----

A/N: I needed comfort and well I figured you might too so.. here's this

"All the signs point to yes, the way you have given me a description and the tests we ran," the doctor breaks the news. "This can't be right? Maybe there was a mistake?" Your hand holding onto your husband's hand. "It's PCOS, ma'am." You shook your head. You read every article, and watched every video, and even though you said your signs must be for something else, here you are. 

"What does this mean for her?" your husband asks, knowing you are just trying to find yourself in the void you've been pushed to. "Well it can mean a lot of things, for example..." the doctor's voice fades. Your eyes are on that desk, the lighting of the room only making this news worse. Tears form in your eyes. What does this mean? No family, no picket fence, and Sunday walk with your kids. 

You wanted to cry and argue against the results but it's all there in that paper. Your heart breaks and you grip his hand again. 

The ride home was silent, he knew it was best this way. You thought of it all, the giggles, the drawings on the wall, the stained clothes, and the staying up late that you'll never get to do. 

"We're home," he mentions softly, his hand on yours again as you are lost in thought. All you can do is get out of the car and walk inside. You know it's wrong to push him away but it's the only thing that feels right. Your emotions are all over the place. You feel more disgusted with yourself. The hair that's growing on the chin and chest, the stupid periods you've missed, the weight gain, the way you look around and see everyone building your families and you, sitting in a bathroom, undressed as you look at the weight and wished you were 'better'. 

John Price: 

The first thing he does is leave you alone. He doesn't know how it feels, however, he knows that if he were in your place, he'd too need some time alone. He knows one thing, if the places were changed, you'd be doing something to make him cheer up, anything. "My love, I'm going out for a few minutes, you need me, I'm a phone call away." he kisses your forehead but when you refuse to let him kiss your soft skin, he sighs and walks away. 

They say, to be loved is to be known and he knows you all too well. So, he goes to every store in town, looks for that one book you've been looking for, and then, there it is, the flowers, the takeout and the one blanket you eyed for a little too long when shopping with him. 

Meanwhile, in the small bathroom, you lie down. Eyes on the ceiling as you feel yourself cry once more. Stupid, stupid, stupid body of mine. Why must this be your place? Why can't you give him the one chance at happiness? One kid at least, two at best and a stupid family dog that could be running around during family walks. 

"I hate you-"

"Love? Hey, open up, I'm home," he says as he knocks on the door of the bathroom. "Go away-"

"Not happening, open up my sweetheart, let me show you everything will be alright," his voice was so soft and gentle. 

Once he finally has you in his arms, guiding you to the cosy living room, he covers your eyes and smiles. "We'll talk about this all later but for now, let me release some stress."

"But-"

"Love, no. I'm not letting you think that just because of this condition you are less than any other woman out there. You are so much more than just someone who can give me children. You are this incredibly funny, smart and seriously kind person. You're my girl, nothing changes that, kids or not. Now, let's eat, watch some film I found and then, we'll stay up and talk about today." 

Simon Riley: 

You've been in the bedroom, looking at the pictures your siblings have sent you of your nieces and/or nephews. Their little giggles, the silly little things they do when they get annoyed when not solving a small puzzle. Tears form in your eyes. "Lovie, I got the bath- Lovie?" His voice was softer than ever. He recognizes that frown and the only thing he can do is walk to you, wrap his arms around you and give you a tight hug. His lips meet your forehead. "I feel broken like there is something very wrong with me," you confess as small tears fall. "You're not broken, lovie," he whispers. 

"Well, it feels like I am, everything is wrong with me, I feel disgusted with myself."

He shakes his head, "If there is one thing I've learned is that even if you feel like you are completely worthless, it's a temporary thing. At the end of the day, you are much more than being the one I have a family with. So what if we can't have sleepless nights? You're not here to just be a mother. And, if we want kids, I'm sure we'll adopt or maybe we can search for other stuff- the point here is, you are much more than serving as some womb for our kids." 

He kisses picks you up and carries you to the bathroom. "Now, let me take care of you, okay? You do it for me when I come home and it's time you get treated the same." 

One thing with him is that he shows you his true love, admiration and excitement with acts of service. He won't directly tell you all his emotions but his actions do tell you all you need to know. As you lay back on the tub, he grabs your hand and kisses it. "Everything will be alright, I promise you that much," he smiles and slowly scrubs your body, the feeling of the bubbles and warm water soothe you. 

Kyle Garrick: 

It's bizarre. The rain pitter-pattered against the windowpane as you sat curled up on the sofa, your thoughts a whirlwind of worry and frustration. Today had been one of those days where everything seemed to spiral out of control. To be diagnosed with this condition had hit you out of a tidal wave, and left you feeling overwhelmed and uncertain about the future. Why must you be this way?

Kyle, your ever-supportive husband, noticed the heaviness in your demeanour the moment he stepped through the door. Droplets of rain clung to his jacket as he approached you, concern etched on his features. "Y/N, love, are you alright?" he asked softly, kneeling beside you. He knows you, that weak smile falters almost immediately. "It's a lot to take in," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. Kyle wraps his arms around you, pulling you close in a comforting embrace. "I know, darling. But you're not alone in this. We'll figure it out together, okay?" he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. 

You nod, feeling the weight of his words anchor to the present moment. You lean into his warmth, finding solace in the familiar scent of his cologne mingled with the rain outside. 

For the rest of the evening, Kyle made it his mission to care for you in every way he could. He brewed your favourite herbal tea and fetched the cosy blanket to wrap you in it. He listened attentively as you, for so long, poured out your fears and frustrations. In between doubt, he offered words of reassurance. 

As the evening goes on, he notices how the weight of your diagnosis left you with a burden. He can see the sadness etched into your features, the worry lines creasing your forehead as you sit and stare into the distance. "Love, what's on your mind?" he asks softly, reaching out to gently squeeze your hand. 

You let out a heavy sigh, and your shoulders slump as you face him, "I just can't shake this feeling off, babe," you admit to him once more, that soft voice of yours tinged with sadness. "It's a lie no matter what I do, this stupid condition will always be a part of me." Tears well in your eyes. 

His heart aches at the sound of defeat in your voice, but he refuses to let your despair consume not just you but him as well. With a tender smile, he cups your cheek, brushing away the stray tear with his thumb. How can you tell someone you want to listen to and understand them? How can you show love for them when they can't even accept love for something they can't control?  

"Y/N, listen to me," he says firmly, his gaze unwavering. "This condition doesn't define you. It's just one part of who you are, love. And it certainly isn't your fault." 

You blink back tears, your throat tightening with emotion. "But it feels like...like I'm broken," your voice barely above a whisper. He shook his head, his expression softening with understanding. "You aren't broken, Y/N. Not even in the slightest," he insists, his voice laced with conviction. "You are this strong, beautiful and capable of so much more than you realise. And I will be here every step of the way, holding your hand through it all."

With that, Gaz pulls you into his arms, holding you close as if to shield you from pain. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, pouring all his love and reassurance into the simple gesture. At that moment, surrounded by his unwavering love and support, you felt a flicker of hope ignite in you. 

In the days that followed, he was your constant support and encouragement. He researched PCOS tirelessly, eager to understand your condition better and help you navigate the complexities. He accompanies you to doctor's appointments, holding your hand through every moment. He also made small challenges to not just your lifestyle but his. New healthier habits, medication, self-help books and moments of joy filled your life with him. 

John "Soap" MacTavish:

The soft glow of the bedside lamp, once you reach the bedroom, casts a warm ambience in the room as you sit on the edge of the bed, your mind clouded with worry and uncertainty. You stare blankly at the floor, thoughts consumed by this condition. It felt as though the world had turned upside down in an instant, leaving you lost and vulnerable. 

Johnny, your steadfast husband, watched you with concern from his place beside you. He could see the turmoil written in your eyes. Without a word, he reached out and gently took your hand in his, offering a silent anchor in this storm. 

You squeeze his hand tightly, seeking solace in the warmth of his touch. "What am I now, Johnny?" you confess. "It's like... everything I thought I knew about myself has been thrown into question."

Johnny's heart ached, he can't let you suffer alone, not like this. "You don't have to deal with this alone, bonnie," he kisses the top of your hand. "We're in this together, remember?"

You nod, eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I know, but... it's just so hard," your voice trembles with emotion. It's not love if they leave during something so hard, they say. It's unconditional love when they stay, I say. 

"I know it's hard, bonnie. But I also know how strong you are," he gives you a small smile. "You are much more than this diagnosis." It's beautiful, how in the middle of this heartache, he still gives you this funny yet warm feeling. "And I will be here every step of the way, supporting you, comforting you, and loving you with all that I am," he promises.  -----

A/N: If you have this, I'm always here, it's okay to sometimes rely on others. This isn't something to be ashamed about<3

Tags:

@shadofireshinobi @kit-kats06 @joyfulmarvelofavengers @luvecarson @hilmiponken @asgardswinter @141swhore @miscfandomwrites @itstrapbunnybubbles @rockcollector3000 @certifiedcodbabygirl @eicee @liyanahelena @theineandonlyidiot @johfaam0 @goldenmclaren @froggy-anon @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @frizzseaberries @istillcantfindausername @idklols @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @undercover-smutlover @juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @enarien @simonssweetgirl @willowaftxn83-87 @ikohniik @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @pbcartii @llelannie @macnches2 @anonymuslydumb @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @nyx_flower @sparky--bunny @honestlyhiswife @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @kaoyamamegami @the_royal_bee @soapybutt17 @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @thegreyjoyed @mychemicalimalance @marshiely @tuihiatus

[ambers-archive]

what if all i need is you?

2 times the universe conspires against Spencer and the 1 time it doesn't. no use of y/n pt 2

"I think we’re lost," Spencer mumbled, stealing a glance at you, you’re in his passenger seat and you look like a dream he thinks. 

He hates driving, usually avoids it, but watching you smile next to him and hearing you sing along to his favorite songs makes him think it’s not all bad.

"You think?" You laugh, meeting his eye.

He had the date perfectly planned in his head – a tour around the city since you just moved here. Showcasing his favorite bookstore, two tickets to his favorite museum's exhibit, the whole thing.

However, things were not going as planned. He found himself driving in circles, twists and turns multiplying at every corner.

The universe was taunting him.

"I swear, these street signs are conspiring against me," he muttered.

“In the meantime, we should enjoy this,” you suggested, pointing to a barely visible café on the corner, proposing an impromptu coffee stop.

With a slight smile tugging his lips, Spencer nodded.

“You’re in Med school?

Spencer asked, trying to hide his amazement.

It all makes sense now, he thinks. Rarely does he find someone who matches him intellectually, even rarer for him to enjoy conversations with them.

“I am! I know it’s a cliché saying, but I just want to help people, I want to make a difference in the world.”

“It’s not cliché at all, that’s really noble.” Spencer replied, a genuine smile forming on his face. The passion in your voice is like a breath of fresh air for him.

You blushed at the compliment, warmth spreading across your cheeks. "Thank you. It's not easy, but it's worth it if I can make a positive impact, even in a small way."

As if you took the words right out of Spencer’s mouth, hearing you made him realize the reason he started the BAU. 

And oh how beautiful it is to have that passion.

For so long, his work had only consisted of repetition; the work that had brought him happiness was now draining him of it all. His thoughts are audible emanating from your lips.

To make a difference, and just for a little while, listening to you happily describe your passion, the horrors of his job, which once clutched his heart so deeply, slowly started to fade.

“Where to next, Doctor?” 

“I hope you like museums, I was able to get us tickets to one of my favorite exhibits.” 

“Lead the way.” 

“I agree; the universe is not happy with you right now,” you laughed, both stranded in the middle of nowhere as his car broke down under the afternoon sun.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve this,” he sighed, opening your car door. Taking his hand you led him towards the field, there were worse places to be stranded in you thought. 

“If we call for a cab right now, we can reach the museum in an hour, depending on traffic. We’ll miss the first half hour or so, but—”

“Spencer, look! The sun is setting.” You walked off into the distance, taking a seat near a tree.

“We’re going to miss the show.” He said disappointed. You looked up at him and the orange glow casted a beautiful hue over your face. Just when he thought you couldn't get prettier.

“No matter how much you try in life, you’re bound to miss something. Just take in the moment right now.” You say, patting the seat on the grass next to you.

To his own surprise, he obliges. 

He doesn’t mean to profile you, but it’s a reflex, a defense mechanism. Being around serial killers and rapists, he needs to know their every move. But right now, being in your apartment as you give him a tour, he lets go.

Realizing he doesn’t have to know everything about you right away; he can take his time.

He expected your room to be something like a catalog magazine, but books, plants, and paintings you've made surrounded you.

Messy maximalist, you called it.

Spencer learns you hate minimalism, you hate gray white empty spaces that don't feel like home.

He is almost envious of how carefree you are, willing to wear your heart out on your sleeve. Your guard has been down the whole time, a luxury Spencer can’t afford.

“Can I offer you some tea? I recently perfected my mom’s recipe for chai,” You asked, already boiling the water and getting your tea bags together.

“Tea sounds amazing.”

He looks around, forming a profile in his brain.

You’re messy, but you somehow find beauty in it. It doesn’t bother you; it makes sense, he thinks.

Artistic people are commonly messy.

“What books do you like?” Spencer asks, watching you get two mismatched cups out.

“I love classic literature, Persuasion is one of my favorites. I love Jane Austen and the way she captures love in its most pure form."

“How would you define love?” It’s a question that has been nagging him, he wants to pick apart your brain and know every thought.

He can tell you’re a hopeless romantic, and he now wishes he had accepted Garcia’s movie night invitation to watch Jane Austen movies.

He already has a sense, knowing you love classic period pieces, but he just wants to hear your explanation for it. 

“In Med school they teach us that love is a complex emotion, a bunch of hormones: dopamine, oxytocin, and serotonin in the brain. I can’t say much about hormones but love is life, and it's just peaceful like the slow water going down a stream. But an immediate phenomenon, much like life itself. It fills and empties you all at once, swirling like a river's water after a storm. Your hands, heart, stomach, and skin are just a few places on your body where you can feel it. And it overtakes you so intensely. You don’t even realize it until you’re in it. You can’t exist without it, love is like breathing.” You sigh, a shy smile overtaking your lips “Sorry i tend to rant a lot.” 

Spencer meets your smile. It feels nice to be on the receiving end of someone rambling.  “I don’t mind one bit. I knew you were an artist but I didn’t peg you for a writer.”

“Have you been profiling me, Doctor Reid?” you ask, he smiles avoiding your gaze.

“Most writers are artistic people; that is, they are imaginative, creative, and productive when working in an environment that promotes self-expression. Not to mention you mentioned journalism being your minor, also I saw you had a typewriter.”

“You're amazing, Spencer,” you say, taking the kettle off the stove, pouring two cups of chai.

Spencer whispers your name, and you look over, your name falls so easily through his lips. This is what was missing from your life, you think.

“I think you’re one of the most unique people I’ve ever met.”

He says, taking your hand, interlocking your fingers.

You graze your thumb over his knuckles squeezing his hand, meeting his brown eyes. And as if the universe was on his side for once you lean forward, your lips meeting his. Lips meddling into each other as if it was made just for you.

The morning sun is beating down on his small car, and there you are sitting in his passenger seat laughing at his horrible jokes.

Your favorite songs playing in the background. You smile at him, and Spencer is lost again, but not because of the street signs. He's just lost in your smile.

This is what was missing from his life Spencer thinks.