#plz god i am so tired

[wordy-little-witch]

Had a sudden moment of CLARITY and anyway Russian Buggy

Buggy who's multilingual and whose cultural development is EXPANSIVE but who also clings to his roots a bit.

Buggy who, upon losing EVERYTHING after Roger's execution, drifted for a while, and then decided to return to his homeland - to know where he came from, to find where he will go.

He finds home and community and he learns. He learns so much and his access to the language comes as easily as breathing to him - something both surprising and not, given his proclivities with learning. He takes to it like a fish to water, and he carries that home, that place, that history, on with him even still to this day.

Just. Idk, I feel like his voice and cadence would sound LOVELY in Russian and I feel like he'd actually THRIVE with that and yes I was watching a Chernobyl documentary but LEAVE ME ALOJE LET ME COOK-

[qiekzart]

day 23 drawing len until my preorder arrives

i am so tired but i managed to draw despite it!!!! sorry not requests,, i need some time to get in the drawing requests spirit lol (also i need time to be happy)

requests temporarily closed but will be open later!!

[ittybittybumblebee]

God please let me be soooo sick so i dont have to work. Amen

[i-dont-giv-af]

I’m better then everyone I know. But I still hate it here. What the fuck is this world bro? I’m venting I guess but I’m high.. I love weed. Okay it’s 3:33am though ayeee .. but bye bye beauties Gn/Gm! I’ll come back soon xX

[timidewe]

got into a car wreck yesterday and ohmyfuck I am in so much pain

[urhoneycombwitch]

howdy, honey!

part I

older!cowboy!Eddie x honey!reader

foreword: idk what this is. other than the start of a new series I may or may not have time for lmao. just… love the idea of honey!Reader and wanted to show the origins of cowboy!Eddie into their life <3 honey!Reader is a bit of an abrasive spitfire but I heart complicated women and Eddie is the right amount of gruff to put up w/ that bratty ass <3 I’m sorry if any truck stuff is wrong I swear I researched a bit but dear god I am not a car girly plz forgive me

cw: Appalachian no magic AU, cowboy!Eddie, older!Eddie, age gap (Eddie is at least 40, R implied as younger), R is on the run from a Troubled Past ™, R has breasts (non-sexual mention) and a tattoo (no skin tone/color mentioned), smut planned for following chapters, as always +18 mdni!

wc: 5.3k

The last thing you want to hear behind you approaches: a vehicle slowing down, tires crunching to crawl at your walking pace in the gravel ditch of the road. 

Maybe it’s just a concerned citizen. You soothe yourself internally, even as your guard surges up to take stock of the environment, to calculate the quickest route to safety. 

To your left- a rusting red pickup, its unknown driver, the flat expanse of tarmac and heat lines rising blearily for miles on end.

To your right, just a sprint away- the line of a lush, thick forest, unfamiliar birds calling amidst the Appalachian wilderness.

Then, an even worse sound of the truck's window being rolled down. 

“Not interested, pal,” you call out, in a tone you hope is commanding. “My thumb ain’t out. Keep driving.”

“I just-” it’s a man’s voice, because of course it is, who else would stop in the middle of an abandoned road to harass a young thing like you- “It’s about a hundred degrees out. Hotter than a two-buck pistol and you’re hiking in it.”

“Mind your damn business.” You don’t know this guy’s angle, but you don’t really care- if there’s anything you’ve learned from the past two weeks on the road, it’s Don’t trust strange men and keep your wits. 

Heart thumping an unsteady rhythm, you swallow the fear and hike your duffle bag higher onto your aching shoulder, resolute, even as the guy sighs. As if he has the right to sound weary. “Darlin’. I don’t wanna see you die of dehydration, is all. Got some water in the back, ‘least let me offload some onto you.”

The offer is tempting enough to still your steps- your canteen is empty, ran out about an hour after being filled at the last town’s hostel. Constant thirst has been an unfortunate side effect of this journey; so far it seems you've been the only one desperate enough to actually be outside in this unrelenting heat.

The man must take your pause for acceptance because he rolls to a stop just ahead of you, brake lights giving one quick flash before the engine cuts out. Both boots hit pavement at the same time, revealing a tall, lanky figure in dark denim and a cut-off tee. 

As he rounds to the trailer bed, you notice a smattering of tattoos- bats flying up one arm, a lariat and a floral piece on the other, some sort of mythological creature sitting over his heart (only spotted as he bends to unhook his truck bed’s latch, shirt shifting forward to reveal a pale expanse of skin beneath).

He’s a confusing, delightful mix of punk and cowboy- jeans just a touch too tight for working, silver hoops lining the shell of his right ear. You’d probably get a better sense of his age if his hair wasn’t hiding in a bun too shadowy to see properly, nestled under the brim of his black cowboy hat.

Eyes dark as bittersweet chocolate but kind and calm turn towards you, observing silently with crossed arms in the ditch a yard away. He closes the gap, wiping his palm on the black bandanna lining his pocket before stretching an appeasing hand towards you. “Waterin’ time.”

A laugh would signal comfortability, and you prefer to keep your cards as close to your own chest as possible, so you smother the noise, turn it into a disapproving twist of your mouth before taking his proffered hand. 

He’s stronger than he looks, pulling you up to the road with an easy flex of his forearm; his other hand automatically fits to your low back to steady you as your pack shifts with the climb, but he drops all points of contact as soon as you’re stabilized.

There’s a thunk from the nearby truck, the sound of something dull hitting into the metal. On instinct, your hand snaps to the butterfly knife tucked into the front of your bra band, hidden by the extra padding but close enough to whip out at a moment's notice. 

A dog sits eager and obedient in the truck bed, black and leggy and long-snouted- some type of Shepherd, if you had to guess. His long feathered tail hits the wheel with each enthusiastic wag, oversized ears perked forward.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. 

Adrenaline leaves you feeling sticky and strung-out, even more than the heat. Between your breasts, the knife sits waiting, metal cool to the touch and reassuring through the fabric of your tanktop. You hope it just looks like you scare easily, hand over your heart with nerves and jumpiness instead of trained defense mode- cards to chest, and all that. 

Safer for you, to be underestimated. Always harder to see a hit coming from someone unexpected. 

This time, though, you aren’t fixing to hit. The back of your hand, like some gravitational force, draws you to the mouth of the truck bed. 

A slash of pink tongue splits the all-black dog’s mouth when he licks you, thumping tailbeat picking up speed. 

The man who owns both truck and dog leans a hip against the wheel, watching as you smooth your palm over the silky head of his companion. “Name’s Goblin.”

“So, your parents were hippies, I gather?” A joke slips out before you can catch and wrestle it back to be the most unassuming version of yourself.

The man laughs- full and rich, crow’s feet bursting like sunbeams, dimples springing into his cheeks- the action knocks a decade off his face. 

You’re transfixed, unable to look away, Goblin nudging your hand for more pets while you memorize the way this stranger looks, laughing on the side of the road in the middle of goddamn nowhere. 

“The dog is Goblin,” the man says, humor twitching at the corners of his plush lips. He takes off his hat to rest against his chest, chocolate eyes still twinkling. “I’m Eddie.”

In the truck bed next to Goblin, there’s a bulky case laying sideways, a handle on one end for carrying. It’s the last push you need, apparently, as the logic part of your mind speaks with finality: Ted Bundy never played guitar. 

So you give Eddie your name. Your real one. You haven’t used it in weeks, opting for anonymity and the comfort of a pseudonym at the seedy spots you’ve been staying.

As soon as you say it, something loosens in your chest, flutters free into the bright blue sky as Eddie repeats it like something precious- like he’s known you for ages. 

“Well.” As if a matter has been settled, Eddie puts his hat back on (you weren’t quite done memorizing the long pattern of his curls, shot through with grey, pulled taut against his skull to settle in a bun at the nape of his neck). “More’n welcome to take the water and send me packin’, but now that we all know each other’s names, how about a lift to town?”

Eddie scratches Goblin behind the ear, absentminded as he adds, “Could even sit in the back, ‘f you wanted. That way you could just jump on out if you think I’m tryna pull something.”

Your shoulder suddenly aches with the weight of your duffel; you let the straps slide to the crook of your elbow, then set it next to Goblin who seems happy for something new to sniff.

Unfortunately for Eddie, you’re starting to like him, which means the filter for your sarcasm and teasing has completely eroded. “Ri-ight. Like I’m gonna just sit in the back of your truck when you could floor it and fling me over the side like a ragdoll.” 

Those big, doey eyes of Eddie’s roll skyward. “You always this stubborn?”

“Only on days that end in Y.” 

“All right.” There’s something in his tone that makes your spine straighten- not from fear, just… something else that you’re trying hard not to analyze right now. “So sit in the damn front and put a seatbelt on, since you’re so worried ‘bout my driving.”

Eddie shuts the pickup’s gate and mutters all the way to the driver’s side door, some comparison being drawn between you and one of his cows that gets herself stuck in the fenceline, refusing sesnsible help. 

The air in the cab is stale and still, warmth from the cracked leather seats soaking into the back of your shorts and bare thighs as you get in and buckle up. You’re suddenly aware of how desperately you need a shower, being in an enclosed space and next to someone with (presumably) a working sense of smell, but luckily Eddie’s already rolling down the windows.

“Air’s broke,” he says by way of apology, waving in the general direction of the AC vents before reaching to open the sliding rear window.

Something cold and wet presses against your ear- Goblin, saying hello. By the time your giggle is over, the grumble of the engine has kicked on, and the dog has found a headrest in the form of your pack, his tongue lolling into the fabric with rhythmic panting. 

“Radio?” You ask, already reaching to twist at the knob on the dash- a crackle of static, and then, bliss. Johnny Cash croons from the speakers. 

In trying to keep your delight casual, you slip up, telling Eddie as he straightens out the wheel to pick up speed- “God, I haven’t heard music this good in months, not since-”

Fortunately, whatever system in your brain still holding on to good sense chops the sentence in half. To cover, you clear your throat, cross your arms, and keep your eyes fixed forward when you change the subject. “So, you play guitar?”

If Eddie notices your lapse he doesn’t comment on it, picking up conversation with an easy charm. “Nah. That’s just a cover for if Sheriff Hop gets me for speedin’. That case is filled with coke and guns and all sorts’a contraband.”

You fix the side of his head with a glare, and even without seeing it full-on Eddie sputters a chuckle and admits, “Fine. I play guitar, sometimes.”

While Eddie’s eyes stay on on the road ahead, you let your own gaze linger on his face in profile: the slope of his nose, the freckles that scatter across the apple of his cheeks and neck, the tail end of another tattoo winding up his collarbone.

Eddie catches you staring, this time, jolt like an electric shock coursing through your whole body when you lock eyes for a moment, before he flicks back to the road. “Looks like you got some ink, yourself.”

He must be doing his best to remain respectful, because he doesn’t ask what the J stands for, even as your other hand jumps instinctually to cover the breadth of your wrist, hiding the little inked letter from view. “Yeah. I get one every time I kill a man. In remembrance.”

Amusement twitches at the corner of Eddie’s mouth when he asks, “Yeah? Only one so far? Would’a thought you’d be racking up your letters by now. Fierce as you are.”

“Well, we’re in public. I can’t very well take off my shirt to show you all the rest.”

This earns you another laugh, and even with the wind whipping through the cab, it fills every inch of the space. Rattles into you like a thunderstorm, knocks dust off some deep part of you kept dormant ‘til now.

You like that he called you that. Fierce. You’re loath to admit it, but you also like the pet names. Most boys are condescending or double-edged with their diminutives, but when Eddie calls you darlin’ with that Southern drawl, it feels… endearing. 

Equal parts terrifyingly disarming and captivatingly charming. That’s how you’d categorize Eddie, so far, though you’re not sure what to file away about his arms- stretched out at ten and two on the Ford’s big wheel, soft white underbelly of his forearms fading into a natural freckled tan, smattering of dark hair over both. 

For now, you file it under Trouble and focus on the upcoming road sign.

It looks like someone stripped a big tree and cut out a thick middle piece just to drive it at a slant into the ground. The hand-carved words appear to have been painted over many times, discolored and weathered, obscuring some of the letters.

WELC ME TO C LINE

”It’s a nice town, Celine,” Eddie says conversationally as the sign gets smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror. “Small, but good community. Lots of farming folks, like me, some strays and stragglers, like you.”

Johnny Cash gives way to an unfamiliar folksy number; you drink in the ramshackle buildings that make up the heart of the town. It’s reminiscent of old cowboy movies you grew up watching with your brothers- flat roofs, red brick, clapboard. A hitching post outside of a General Store, a group of kids tearing around on bikes in the empty lot of the movie theater. 

All that’s missing is a lone tumbleweed flipping lazily end over end across the road.

Eddie pulls his truck parallel with a stretch of curb outside a long building, another handmade sign that reads Celine Public Library. He leaves the engine running but shifts the gear to park, pointing to the phone booth just beyond your window.

“Phone’s just there, if you got someone to call. Figure’d here’s as good a place as any, if you wanna part ways now.”

Oh, right. Eddie offered you a ride to town, and he made good on it. Now is the part where you get out, collect your duffel, and wave while pretending to make a phone call until his truck has disappeared.

But you don’t. There’s lively guitar plucking over the speakers, twining with the purr of the engine. Eddie’s hands flex and unflex on the wheel, horseshoe tattoo on the first segment of his middle finger rippling with the movement like he’s working up the courage to say something,

You’d better not stick around to hear it. Fighting the thing that’s sticking you to the seat, you reach for the door handle. “Well, thanks, Eddie. ‘Preciate the lift.”

Your fingers are just grazing the handle when Eddie speaks again. “Wait-”

Don’t look back. Don’t look back. Don’t-

His eyes are just as beautiful as before, when he’d laughed- and now they’re on you, longing and hopeful and a little unsure as he speaks, gaining speed as if from nerves- “I’ve got a spare room. Spare shack, technically- it’s not much, but I used to live in there real comfortably ‘til my uncle moved and I got the house. Please come stay, at least for the night. Please?”

With a hand still on the door to your other, safer option, you pause; though the main emotion that washes through you is one of relief and gratitude, you sink your teeth into the little flare of irritation, pulling it up to the surface like one last play. “I don’t want charity.”

”Do I look like the church-goin’ type?” A bright flash of Eddie’s teeth as he grins (he knows he’s got you, goddammit). “And the shack door locks from the inside. Deadbolt. In case you’re worried about… I’m not askin’ anything from you. Just- please.”

Your hand drops from the door, falls limply into your lap as you breathe out. “And you’re not in some… weird, cowpoke-Satanic cult where you’re gonna use me as human sacrifice?”

“What part of deadbolt do you not get,” Eddie retorts, pleased, hand at the gear shift. “And my cult only meets on the full moon, so. You’ve got a few weeks of safety, at least.”

A genuine laugh bubbles up out of you, and the smile that Eddie fixes you with would’ve knocked you sideways had you been standing. 

You’re both relishing in the moment too deeply to notice the bicycles approaching from behind; Goblin gives an excited yip, front paws planted on the lip of the truck, wagging up a storm as the group squeals to a halt, surrounding you and Eddie on all sides. 

One of the kids, a boy with a curly mop of hair who looks on the young end of 15, slams a hand down on Eddie’s open window. “Hey!”

Eddie is the one to nearly jump out of his skin this time, hand flying to the top of his hat and cursing. “Fuck. Christ, Henderson. Whaddya want?”

“Do you require our assistance at the market this weekend?” The kid speaks in a funny, oddly formal tone as Eddie sighs and sets his hat on the seat between the two of you. 

“Unfortunately so.” 

“C’mon, Eddie, don’t be like that.” The boy is practically leaning through the window at this point with eagerness, one foot on the ground to keep his bike from tipping. You smother a giggle at the way Eddie’s jaw ticks. “School’s out, we’re bored as hell, and-”

He stops mid sentence when he spies you in the passenger seat, eyebrows jumping up to the curls covering his forehead. “And who might this be?”

“None of your damn business,” Eddie grits out, but you ignore the all-bark-no-bite tone to stretch across and offer your hand in introduction.

“I’m Dustin,” the boy says, in answer to your own name, and rapid-fire points at the various figures loitering around the truck, naming his friends too quickly for you to store them long-term. “Now, Edward, about our payment…”

There’s a girl with red braids near your window, the only one not on a bike. When you give her a friendly smile, she glowers and plants a sneakered foot on her skateboard, rocking it aimlessly up and down the asphalt. 

In the back, Goblin is basking in the attention of the rest of the group; another boy with a close-cropped Afro rubs the dog’s head lovingly, while a girl with serious brown eyes and shoulder-length curls (Eddie’s relative, maybe?) makes tentative strokes down Goblin’s side. 

There are two other kids- boys, you think- near the back of the trailer, but their backs are to the group, close as two people can be while still on their own bikes. Dustin’s conversation floats back into your comprehension- he’s making a valiant attempt at twisting Eddie’s arm where ‘payment’ is concerned.

Untwistable, Eddie shakes his head. A few strands of hair have come loose from his bun, curling around his jaw with the overdramatic move he makes to throw the gear shift into drive. “All right, enough, ya scoundrel. Round up your crew and go be a pain in someone else’s ass.”

Unperturbed, Dustin straightens, grasping his bike’s handlebars with one hand and wrapping a tight fist around the metal of the truck’s side mirror. 

This seems to be some sort of signal, because the rest of the group latches on like some choreographed play- hands, one from each kid, coming up to grip at any free space left on the truck, shoulders hunching forward as if preparing to be shot forth like a rubber band. 

“Damn kids,” Eddie grumbles, but you can hear the fondness in his voice as he lifts his foot from the brake.

The truck lurches forward, and with it, the extra wheels; Goblin’s revved-up barking joins the excited chatter and whooping of the kids hanging on, a joyous cacophony of sound as you all head further down the empty street together.

Eddie picks up speed; there’s a twinge of fear as you watch the speedometer tick up to 10- and then he honks, once, and in perfect synchronicity all the kids let go. Some of them pedal furiously to keep up the momentum, others- like the girl on the skateboard- take advantage of the added speed to simply coast.

Soon enough, their cheerful waves and laughter recede into the distance along with the rest of the town as Eddie keeps his boot on the gas.

The heat in town was dizzying, so you’re relieved when the road dips and bends into the comfort of shade- courtesy of the wild forest flanking either side. 

It’s about a ten minute drive to Munson Farms, and on the way, Eddie tells you all about it. You learn that his Uncle Wayne raised him, taught him how to work and live off the land- when Wayne retired and moved a few miles down the road, Eddie took over.

“Not really a lucrative venture, farming,” he says, trees passing in a blur as he navigates the road curves with ease. “But the end of summer Town Fair pays well, ‘specially for sheep penning demonstrations. Got a couple of dairy cows, chickens that won’t stop laying- between that ‘n Wayne’s orchards, we got more than enough to get us through the winter months.

And then there’s the hives-”

“Bees?” Unable to help the interruption, your head whips in his direction, interest piqued. 

“Yup. Got about six hives right now in the southern pasture. Don’t know much about ‘em, truthfully- got a friend named Chrissy, comes once a week or so to make sure they stay maintained. I mostly just help come harvesting time, and try to stay out of her way for the rest.”

There are about a thousand other questions you want to ask- what kind of bees? Are they near your garden plot to promote pollination? Any bears in the area?- but you tamp down your excitement, settling on a neutral, “Cool,” before looking out the window again.

The sign for Munson Farms is handmade, too, but upkept much better than the one in town- it swings gently in the breeze on metal links as Eddie turns down the adjoining dirt road. About a quarter mile in, you start to see signs of life- fence lines running through the trees and the shush of a nearby water source- and then, a house.

It’s small, probably no more than a bed, bath, and kitchen inside. There’s a red brick chimney separating the straight lines of the blue-painted wood planks, ivy crawling up one side to frame the eastern-facing window. 

On the covered porch, a big, long-haired white dog lifts its head at the sound of the truck pulling in. Goblin gives a greeting bark, practically tripping over his oversized paws to launch out of the truck even as Eddie gripes at him to “Be careful, dammit!”

As you follow Eddie out of the truck and to the porch, the white dog shambles over on a stiff back leg, ignoring the playful jumping and licking Goblin gives in favor of coming up to sniff you. 

“This is Rosie,” Eddie says, patting her greying muzzle with a gentleness that twists something in your stomach. “She’s near older than me, was a great livestock guardian ‘til her age caught up. Been trying to train up Goblin to take her place but between you ‘n me I think his head might be full of rocks.”

As if he’s aware of the insult, Goblin gives an indignant yip and paws at Eddie’s knee; he gets laughed off by the two of you, zipping away with a deep sense of importance into the nearby forest while Rosie shambles back to her cozy porch spot.

It smells incredible, here, surrounded by so many trees- you take a deep breath, inhaling the rich pines, the verdant underbrush. Just past the house, there’s a fenced-in area with various plants spilling out of raised garden beds. You can almost smell the summer strawberries and crisp veggies. 

On the other side of the fence is a plastic-sheeted greenhouse, LED lights inside making the whole thing glow artificial purple. Eddie catches you staring, then gives a wink, laying one long finger to the side of his nose. “Don’t go tellin’ the Sheriff on me and I’ll give you a joint for your troubles.”

“Deal.” Wasn’t a hard sell at all- at the rate this is going, you’re dying to get high with this man. 

Eddie grabs your pack out of the truck bed and leads you across the dirt road, pointing out the fence lines in the distance, and a barn that you can just make out through a gap in the trees. 

“Sheep, cows, horses, all that way. This way-” his hand rests between your shoulder blades, steering you towards a boot-worn path, “-is the guest shack. Beehives’ll be just down the hill from where you’re stayin’.”

He pauses, looking back over his shoulder at you- “I’ll take you to see ‘em tomorrow. Promise. I just don’t want you goin’ by yourself and getting stung to death, y’hear?”

Not for the first time today, you wish, desperately, to tell him things you shouldn’t. I was actually an apprentice beekeeper for a year, I know my way around a hive. Studied entomology and agriculture in college before I lost myself in the worst mistake of my life. You know that pesky little J I’ve got on my wrist…?

But if you start talking, you won’t stop. And besides, you’re not planning to stay here long enough for your secrets to matter.

So instead, you press your lips into a line, looking solemn, nodding in agreement until he’s satisfied and continues on. 

The dirt path leads right to the shack, and Eddie opens the door to let you in. It’s about the size of a studio apartment- wood stove and sink next to the bathroom door, twin bed draped with a thick quilt budged up under the single window. Small, but homey and clean.

As you take it in, spinning in a slow circle, Eddie sets your duffel next to the bed and runs a hand over the top of his head, haloed frizz of his hair springing back into place. “Ain’t much, I know- usually just host the town rascals; they bring their sleeping bags and fight over who gets the mattress. But the sheets are washed, and-”

“Eddie.” You stop his rambling with a hand to his arm. “Seriously, it’s great. Better than great. I was probably gonna end up sleeping on the streets tonight, and you saved me from that. So… thank you. I mean it.”

The vulnerability in your own voice catches you off guard, but you decide to lean in to it. Eddie’s been nice for no reason- or, rather, because he seems to be a kind person- and you want to make sure he hears how grateful you are for a place to stay.

He’s staring down at your hand on his bare arm, eyes clouded with something you can’t parse out; you draw your hand back, which prompts him to speak- “Shit, darlin’. It’s nothin’. Don’t worry about it. You can stay as long as you like.”

“It’s not nothing,” you insist, arms crossing over your chest, rocking back on your heels. There’s a sudden swell of panic rising like bile in your throat; this morning, you were hell-bent on leaving, and now, you think it’ll kill you not to stay.

“Listen-” Eddie’s eyes snap up at the urgency in your voice, but you manage to push through- “I know I didn’t tell you much, about where I came from, or what I did to end up…”

On my own. The words stick in your throat, tears pricking threateningly at the corners of your vision. “...out here. But I grew up on a farm. I’m used to working livestock, riding horses- I can be helpful. Can earn my keep over the weekend, at least, doing whatever you need-”

Eddie interrupts with a shake of his head, your stomach plummeting until he says, “Got enough farmhands as it is, honey. Don’t need you getting your pretty hands dirty.”

“There has to be something. I can’t cook worth a damn, but I can clean-”

“Hey.” Eddie’s tone of voice slips into a low, soothing register, like you’re a spooked animal caught in a trap. He steps closer, and when you don’t flinch, he settles his big hands on the tops of your shoulders. “Shh. It’s okay. Like I said earlier- I’m not expecting nothin’ from you. Okay?”

There’s gotta be some sort of magical effect happening, an old Celtic carving under the floorboards, maybe a witch's spell braided in with the dried herbs hanging on the far wall. You’ve never felt so looked at before, like you’ve swam beyond your depth and Eddie’s hands are a life raft.

His eyes flit around your face, taking in the expressions you’re surely flickering through before he says, quietly- “If you want, how ‘bout you stay ‘til the end of summer. Help out where you can, and come Fair time, I’ll deal you in on the profits.”

You open your mouth to argue, and smooth as butter, his right hand slips up your shoulder, tattooed fingers wrapping firm around the back of your neck, thumb tapping the pulse point under your jaw, insistent- “This way, you’ll have cash enough in your pocket to go anywhere you want. It’s a good deal and you damn well better take it.”

You wonder if he can feel the jackrabbit pulse of your heartbeat under his thumb. When you nod, he gives a dimpled smile, satisfied. “Good. Now I’ll let you settle in and get washed up for supper. Come on over to the main house when you’re ready.”

Before the door shuts behind him, Eddie adds, “And don’t get too excited. I ain’t much of a cook, neither.”

After his footsteps have retreated down the path, you collapse onto the mattress, springs squeaking. You flip to stare up at the ceiling, running your fingertips over the ghost of his touch branded against your neck, almost nauseous from elation.

A whole summer. On Eddie’s farm. With Eddie. 

After a few minutes of deep breathing, you get up to unpack your duffel, then fold your meager clothes supply neatly into the top drawer of an old oak dresser in the corner, still room enough for your canteen.

The last thing in your bag is a twine-wrapped leather pouch. Your butterfly knife makes quick work of the knots, and then, the last of your most precious things in the world are laid out on the bed. 

A certificate of completion from Indiana U’s Beekeeping Department, folded and creased but still valid, signed by your last field mentor. 

A driver’s license with your old address, square photo of a younger and more hopeful you smiling back.

And lastly, an engagement ring. Gold, with a teardrop-shaped diamond center and sparkling accent stones trailing up either side of the band. 

It twinkles when you hold it up to the evening sunbeam streaming through the window; reflective pinpricks of light scatter and dance across the quilt.

In quick succession, you slide everything back into the pouch, securing it with the drawstring before burying it inside the hidden pocket of your bag.

Then, you shove the duffel under the bed until it hits the wall, and turn away to wash up for dinner.

[roxygen22]

Timothee sickfic but you chose whatever sickness

With Female reader plz

Since I just posted a Timothée/Laurie sickfic yesterday, I switched to a sick reader instead.

Stay With Me

C/W: fever, fainting, hospitals

I heard a muffled voice as I came to, like I was underwater. When did I fall asleep? I felt someone shaking my shoulders.

"[incoherent mumbling]...[y/n]...[Y/N]!" The voice became clearer. Timothée's voice. "There you are. Stay with me, baby. Stay with me," I heard him say in a panic. I felt him kiss my forehead. "Oh f*ck, you're burning up."

I blinked and looked around, confused. Why am I in my bedroom floor? When did Timothée get here? I saw the outline of Timothée's form, but I couldn't focus on it. I only knew it was him by the sound of his voice. It sounded like he was calling someone. I didn't want to sleep, but I couldn't stop my eyelids from closing again...so tired...

The next time I woke, I heard the distinct sound of a heart rate monitor. I could smell noxious aroma of disinfectant. Am I in the hospital? Why am I here? The beeping intensified as I became more cognizant - and fearful - of my surroundings. It took a lot of effort to finally get my eyes open. All I could see at first was the harsh fluorescent light above me.

Once I could focus, I looked over and spotted Timothée's head on the bed. His frame was slumped over from his seat next to me. His hand held mine as he slept using his forearm as a pillow. He jumped up from his seat when he felt me stir. I saw the look of sheer relief on his face when he locked eyes with me.

"Oh, [Y/N], baby, you're awake! Oh, thank God, you're awake." Timothée sandwiched my hand between his and kissed it repeatedly. Tears rolled down his cheeks.

"What-" I tried to ask what happened, but my throat was too dry to make more than a raspy sound.

"Shh, shhh, don't strain your voice. Here, let's get you some water." He used one hand to support my head and the other to hold the cup as I took tiny sips from the straw. It felt like I hadn't drank anything in days.

"What happened?" I finally managed to get the words out.

"You didn't answer the door when I came by to pick you up for dinner. I got worried because I hadn't heard from you since we exchanged texts that morning, so I used my key to get in. I found you passed out in your bedroom floor. I have no idea how long you were like that. You-" his voice cracked. "You weren't responsive when I tried to wake you up. When you came to, it wasn't for long. You were feverish, too. I got scared and called 911. They brought you to the hospital."

"Do they know what's wrong with me? How long have I been here?" I had so many questions, but that was all I could muster.

"You've been in and out of consciousness for two days. But even when you were awake, you weren't lucid. They ran tests - you contracted West Nile Virus."

"Two days?! Have YOU been here for two days?" You dropped your head to the pillow. "All of those mosquito bites from the photography walk."

Timothée nodded. "That's what tipped them off to check for WNV first. They asked me about your travel history and habits. They wanted me to stay in the waiting room until they confirmed you didn't have anything contagious, but they relented if I agreed to mask and glove up after I kept bugging the nurses for updates. I didn't want you to wake up alone."

"You hate hospitals," I whimpered.

He half-smiled. "Not as much as I hated the thought of you being alone and scared." He kissed my hand again.

Timothée stayed with me until I was discharged days later, only leaving long enough to go shower and grab some clothes for both of us. He drove me home and helped me to my apartment. He cleaned out my fridge of any expired foods and went shopping to restock it. He waited on me hand and foot and even tucked me into bed. When he acted like he was about to leave, I asked:

"Stay with me, Timmy. Please."

"Always," Timothée whispered as he settled under the covers next to me.

<><><><><>

Masterlist

Tag List:

@croatianprincess

@bluizh

@jindongdongie

@groovyqueer

[starb3rrys]

ARARRARAR hello :D this is my very first time requesting anything to literally anyone so please forgive me for any misunderstandings <//3.

But first!!! I just wanted to say that I've seen your works and I think your writing style is sooo cool! :3 I like your writing style a lot!!!!<3 you seem a bit underated from what I see and I think you need more recognition!!!

Anyway, my request! So I'm wondering if it's alright to request some sleeping together headcanons (like, literal sleeping, no sex or anything D:) with Tecchou, Sigma, and anyone else you wanna add if you want to! Gender neutral reader please :D.

Sorry for bothering you! Feel free to ignore this request if you do not seem to feel so inclined of writing this one<3 But if you do, please be sure to take your time and no need for rush :D! Make sure to care for yourself and don't overwork yourself! You matter a lot and I appreciate you for even the little things you do, dear<3!

-Lots of love, [anonymous]<3.

Oh my god- thank you!! I really appreciate all the love and support, I hope you’re having a wonderful day/night and please enjoy these special head-cannons just for you! <3 (Anonymous plz marry me- were long lost soulmates/j) (≧◡≦)

(Slight sex joke on Nikolai’s- im sorry.) ♡

✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮

When Night Falls

Ft. Sigma, Tecchou, Nikolai, Ranpo

✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮

Sigma

I am not biased i swear- BUT LIKE SIGMA IS THE BEST ONE TO SLEEP WITH.

To be completely honest, the first time you two shared a bed he was a bit nervous to do so.

When you first cuddled close to Sigma he felt surprised but his instincts quickly kicked in and he wrapped his arms around you as well.

He felt at ease when you two first embraced each other, he felt safe… he felt at home.

As he is the manager of the sky casino, he tends to stay up really late…up until the early hours of the morning; usually around 3am, you sense someone slowly crawl into bed next to you, carefully slipping under the covers, you feel soft slender hands wrap around your body with a soft tired sigh as he attempts to not wake you up.

On most nights, you’d find yourself entangled in sigmas arms, your leg comfortably laid over his as sigma’s soft unconscious head rests on your chest.

Your body warmth combined with his makes for the perfect cozy blanket to protect yourself from the often cold temperatures of the grand sky casino.

Unfortunately, as much as his hair is long and luscious, it does tend to tickle your face or you accidentally lay on it.

(You once woke up with some of his hair in your mouth-).

So to avoid this issue, he tends to sleep with a bun or just a small braid, for your sake.

“How does my bun look?”

“It looks good! But Sigma, are you sure it doesn’t hurt keeping your hair tied up when you sleep?”

“No not really, plus it’s either this or you accidentally eat my hair while we sleep”

“…Touché-“

Tecchou

Let me start off by saying- Tecchou is so quiet and still when he sleeps, i kid you not he does not move an inch like- sir are you alive?.

(If you ask him why he’s always so still and quiet, he’ll respond with “Being able to stay still and quiet even during slumber is good for training to stay quiet when enemies attack, keeping inner peace is a maj-“ *Proceeds to rant*).

Tecchou isn’t overly clingy, he wants to respect your boundaries and tends to give you your own space.

But of course, he would never deny you cuddles if you do so kindly ask.

He doesn’t have a preference per say when it comes to cuddling or holding each other; he can be the one cuddling or the one being cuddled, really doesn’t mind either.

Tecchou will softly wrap his toned arms around your body, his hands are rough from all of his sword training and battles but he makes sure to move his hands with a gentle pace as he soothes your back.

If he is big spooning you, he has a habit of nuzzling his face into your shoulder, you can feel his warm and soft breath against your skin.

He also likes to be held by you, he finds peace and warmth in your arms after a long stressful day at work.

Surprisingly he doesn’t snore at all, his breaths are always soft and quiet.

Every night before bed, Tecchou drinks this sort of strong tea that he mixes with some spices, every night is a new mix.

(May god forbid he offers you some-)

“Tecchou…uhm, why are you drinking green tea mixed with coffee…”

“It helps build a stronger immune system.”

“Oh…interesting..-“

“Would you like to try some?”

“No thank you.”

Nikolai

Sleeping with Nikolai is Definitely an-…Experience-

I kid you not don’t even be surprised if you wake up on the floor with NIkolai spread out like a starfish on the bed, snoring like a jolly green giant as a snot bubble grows and shrinks as he drools.

Definitely starts random pillow fights in the middle of the night.

All jokes aside, Nikolai is definitely big on cuddles, he mostly big spoons but enjoys being the little spoon as well.

A cuddling position he really enjoys is when you lay on top of him like a weighted blanket as he sleeps comfortably.

Nikolai just likes being able to hold you or be held by you, he doesn’t mind as long as you two are close.

When he’s unable to sleep, he tends to play with your hair and sometimes makes little braids and such.

He radiates heat like a dang heater…like- your body gets so warm to the point it sometimes gets uncomfortable.

It doesn’t help that he sleeps with many covers and blankets.

If you try to move away, Nikolai will whine and pout like a 5 year old.

“Nikolai, IT IS TOO DARN HOT FOR YOU TO BE CUDDLING ME LIKE THIS- PLUS THESE DUMBASS BLANKETS YOU GOT FROM COSTCO”

“THEY WERE BUY 2 GET 1 FREE! NOW QUIT MOVING AND LET ME CUDDLE YOU! I WONT LET SOME HEAT STOP US! THIS IS FOR FREEDOM! FREEDOM!”

“Im gonna get a heat stroke.”

“How about you stroke this d-“ *Gets hit with a pillow*

Ranpo

Sleeping with Ranpo can really go two ways, “Messy/ takes up the whole bed” or “Peaceful cuddle session”.

For example; on some nights, it starts off with you two peacefully holding eachother.

Yet by the next morning, your head would be half off the bed as Ranpo’s head rests on his own pillow, his leg would be over your stomach as loud snores fill the room.

All the pillows, except for Ranpo’s, are on the floor while the covers half cover your sleeping body and favor Ranpo’s.

(He will literally fight you for the blankets- definitely bit you once).

But on some nights (usually nights where Ranpo solved a case), it can be more peaceful and loving.

Ranpo curls up in a small ball as you two lay in bed, he clings on to your side like a small Koala.

You play with his hair as he starts to drift off to sleep, you softly praise him for his hard work that day and how good of a job he did.

He falls asleep with a small smile decorating his face.

If you bring up his clinginess the next morning he will act so offended and say it’s absurd and just deny deny deny.

“You looked so adorable clinging on to me as you fell asleep last night, Ranpo…”

“HUH?!- I WOULD NEVER THATS-“

“Don’t deny it Ranpo…we both know it happened”

“PFFT- Of course not, why would I, the world’s greatest detective cling on to someone as lowly as you”

“…You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.“

✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮

Love these pooksters with all my heart

But I definitely have clear favorites- *Cough* Sigma *Cough*

Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed these head-cannons, and as always feel free to request anything you’d like to see!

And as always, Love y’all! <3

[thewritetofreespeech]

Rhaenyra with prompt 10 plz

Prompt list - 10. Mutual Masturbation [F/F]

--------------------------------🐲-----------------------------------

Rhaenyra sighed as she sat at her vanity. Preparing for bed, but even looking at her own reflection seemed exhausting at this point.

Had she known the burden of taking the crown and wearing it would be so much, she may have just laid it down to begin with.

“Your Grace,” Rhaenyra turned from her reflection and frivolous thoughts, “are you alright?”

“Oh, yes, I am fine.” She told her ladies maid before returning to getting ready for bed. “Just a little tired. That’s all.”

“Hmmm…yes. It has been a long day, hasn’t it.” The young woman came up behind her Queen. Taking the brush and taking over the duties of brushing her long, silver hair. “Any word from Prince Daemon?”

Rhaenyra’s face soured but played it off as if she had hit some knot. “No. Not yet. But we will.” The last part was added as more of a hope than a fact. “I do not wish to talk about that right now. I do not wish to think about anything right now.”

The Queen sighed and slouched in her chair. Her maid chuckled a little and sat the brush down. “Shall I help with that instead, your grace?”

Rhaenyra looked up at the other woman. Her face sincere and non-judgmental. The first face in days she had seen that wanted nothing of her, save Rhaenyra’s happiness. “Yes.”

They come over to the bed and the maid helped her strip out of her nightclothes. “You too.” She ordered. This was not the first time they had done this. Her maid helping her ‘relax’. But Rhaenyra preferred them both to be naked when they did. There was something…vulnerable about it when she was naked and her maid was not. Too much the potential for danger; but perhaps that was her paranoia of late.

“Of course, your grace.” She agreed and stripped out of her simple clothes as well.

They lay on the bed facing each other. A long moment passes over them. Both waiting for the other to move and initiate. No one was sure who moved first, but soon enough they were kissing and the maid’s soft but still calloused hands roamed over Rhaenyra’s body.

Rhaenyra moaned softly into the kiss. Realizing now how devoid of touch she had been since Daemon had left. Her girl’s finger tips brush over a swiftly pebbling nipple. Down her center and over her naval. Finally seeking  purchase between her thighs. “Oh Gods…” Rhaenyra moaned. Hips almost instantly bucking against those practiced fingers.

The digits stroke at her core and moistened folds. Brush over her pearl in a way that makes her shiver. Mind going blank in the fog of passion, just like she wanted.

Rhaenyra’s own hand reached out for her maid and started to touch her as well. “Your grace,” the other woman sighed wantonly, “you needn’t….this is to help you. About what you want.”

“This is what I want.” Rhaenyra told her. Thighs trembling as their panting breathes mix together amongst the whispers of their secret. “Would you deny your Queen?”

The other woman whimpered and leaned in to kiss her Queen.

Their hands continue to touch and fondle each other in the dark. Soon enough, they were rutting against each other like animals. Devoid of the pleasantries of their stations and replaced with the primal urge for climax.

Rhaenyra came first. Apex seizing around her maid’s fingers as her whole body shook. Grasping at her with her free hand while the other toyed with her maid’s clit further to send her over the edge as well.

When it was over, and the fuzzy feeling of the fog had lifted, Rhaenyra turned to slide herself beneath the sheets and felt the bed shift for her maid to leave. “Wait. Don’t go.” The other woman paused, dress in her hand. For a moment looking just a pen drop fearful as Targareyn’s were known to change their mood like the winds. “It is rather cold tonight. I could use a bedwarmer for the evening.”

It was no lie. Dragonstone was much cooler than King’s Landing. Cooler in climate. Cooler in company. Cooler without Daemon here beside her.

Her maid smiled shyly and dropped her dress back to the ground. “Of course, your grace, whatever you need.” She crawled back into bed with Rhaenyra. Coiling about her as the Queen wished before the two fell asleep.

[helluva-simper]

The urge to write a fanfic was too strong

So I am awake right now with the need to write a fanfic that i really need someone to make a actual fanfic out of because my hopeless romantic ass needs something to relate to. So here ya go.

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

      You were lying horizontally on the armchair in the lobby of the hotel. You were reading one of those romance books you called, “The source.” The source of what, they may ask. Wel, they never get an answer. Before they can protest you change the subject. 

      You were feeling kinda restless tonight so you decided to chill in the lobby till you felt tired. 

       “He silently chuckled before grabbing her by the hips hearing a small gasp escape her lips. A hand rose and rested on her cheek, slowly caressing it. 'You look stunning.’ (Male character) said with a grin. (Female character) rolls their eyes as they grab his collar and-” “What's got you up so early?” A voice from behind you questioned, making you jump and quickly shut the book like some teenage boy trying to hide their weird fetish from their parents. 

        “O-oh, Alastor. It's you. I was just reading. Didn't feel tired, you know?” You tone screamed how nervous you were even without the complete book throwing moment. Well… not actually. The book rested on your stomach but it felt like it. Alastor hums reaching for the book, grabbing it before you could stop him. “I'm guessing this is some romance story you found?” Alastor asked, examining the book. You weren't surprised by the comment though. Those were the only types of books you read. What did they call those types of people? Oh, yeah. Hopeless romantics. 

        Not saying your partner wasn't great at being your… well partener. But there wasn't much- no. There wasn't any touch in your little arrangement. They thrived off of pure words and small gestures. Which was absolutely nice, especially from them. Who are they? Well, they're standing right in front of you reading the back of the book with an unreadable expression. 

         Alastor hums before placing the book back on to your stomach. “So.. You like… those types of books?” Argh! This man! Why did he say it like that?! You just wanted to strangle him. Yes, your book has its spicy scenes but nothing Angel dust would reenact. You chuckle nervously. “Y-yeah. I guess they just interest me.” You replied. And God! It sounded so wrong. “I mean like the plot. The plot is good. Because you kno-” You were quickly interrupted by a cold, yet soft plush against your lips.

           Your eyes widen when you notice what, or shall I say whom, is causing it. Alastor. Alastor was fucking kissing you. You couldn't believe it. Yeah, you two were pretty much dating but he never wanted physical touch of any kind. At least that's what you thought. Now you kinda feel a bit stupid. 

              You wrap your hands around his slender waist since he has to lean all the way over just to make it to your face. 

                He breaks the kiss standing all the way up making you reluctantly pull your hands away. He offers you his hand. “Now, Darling! Let's get you off to bed!” He says as you grab it. It pissed you off how nonchalant he was acting after all… that. And how warm your face felt.

----------

I wrote this on google docs without rereading it or writing on paper 1st so I apologize if it's shitty. Because its like...

in the goddamn morning. And my phone is literally on 2% so yeah. Night! Also if created Plz give credit 😜

[sad-stucky-shipper-107]

OK IM LITERALLY GOING INSANE

THE FACT THAT ROY IS TRYING TO COMFORT HIM HERE WHILE TRYING TO PREPARE HIM FOR WORSE THINGS

OH MY GOD ROY

BE MORE GENTLE WITH HIM ASSHOLE, HES TRAUMATIZED

HE LOOKS SO TIRED PLZ

WOW THESE PEOPLE HAVE NO IDEA OF HOW TO HANDLE CHILDREN HUH?

WOW HOLY SHIT. NO TRIAL?!

LET MY BOY REST

LMFAO BRO STRAIGHT UP SPILLED HIS PLANS TO THE HEAD OF THE MILITARY

Buddy, you might wanna reevaluate that statement

WE FOUND THE SERIAL KILLER YOU GUYS

I CALLED IT

😦 This is a lose for the ladies, becaue I really thought we were gonna have a fem serial killer this time

SOMEONE HELP MY BOY SKJSLJGDSFLK

THIS IS A CHILD. OH MY GOD THIS IS A CHILD.

My boy is under so much stress

OMG MUSTANG THE BOY IS ALREADY TRAUMATIZED, STOP TEASING HIM

OH FINALLY

LMFAOOO BRO GOT ANOTHER PROMOTION

BBY BOY'S SO SMART

ED: iTS a cRiMe tO tRAnsMuTE gOlD Also Ed 1 sec later:

HE IS SUCH A LITTLE SHIT

BBY BOY FIXED THE SHOP LMFAO

I LOVE HIM. I AM IN LOVE WITH HIM.

LMFAOO THIS CRAFTY FOX

EVERYONE ELSE IS GETTING FIRED OVER THEIR REPORTS AND HE;S WORRIED ABT SARCASTIC REMARKS

In conclusion, Fuck this show (affectionate)

[ellieisbored3537]

I JUST FINISHED LIFE IS STRANGE TRUE COLORS AND OH MY GOD I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS

Tw: Life Is Strange true colors spoilers

Tw: Yap alert

First of all I started playing this a few months ago and I fell in love with the game. I finished the first 2 chapters but literally played the rest today because I was tired with school and stuff and I kinda forgot about it and started watching a ton of shows.

So first episode I literally sat and listened to the entirety of Scott Street (Like 5 times) I fell in love with the town. The record store was awesome I love it so much.

Colorado is an amazing state and this game gave me a lot of nostalgia from the town to the mountains.

The Black Lantern was amazing. I'd love to have a place like that like I loved the whole set up and I have like ideas of how to make it like my dream place or something idk. Like instead of a bar it would be like a cozy cafe and in like the other room it would be a library and like queer flags everywhere. And like I'd keep the arcade things there and I'd make them free to play. Then there would be like music in the background and people could always like reccomend music and I'd add it to queue and it would just be an awesome hang spot. Then the middle floor where Alex's home is already has an awesome set up like I love it and I'd add all kinds of decorations and add like my favorite artists albums to the record stand so I can just blast them forever AND THE ROOF BALCONY OH MY GOD ID KEEP IT BASICALLY THE SAME BECAUSE WHO DOESNT LOVE A FLOWER GARDEN ON YOUR VERY OWN ROOF. Like I'm literally gonna make a whole layout of it because why not just cuz I'm bored.

Anywho. I WAS NOT EXPECTING GABE TO DIE THAT WAS SUCH A SHOCK LIKE WHAT I THOUGHT HE WAS A MAIN CHARACTER

Also I love Ryan and Stephs dynamic so much like the lesbian and her himbo. (I chose the adventure with steph ending and I saw Ryan standing alone and I had so many regrets because that's Stephs himbo so now he just lost his best friend, dad, and crush 😭 but like I like the idea that Steph and Alex got to tour the world together cuz I feel like that's what's best for them (if it were me I would've stayed and renovated the black lantern)

Also I went back in the game and now I'm listening to Scott Street on life is strange on repeat so when I look up from my phone it's just life is strange and scott street because phoebe bridgers ❤️

Also on tiktok I got a few spoilers about Jed being a bad guy BUT I WASNT EXPECTING HIM TO FUCKING SHOOT HER SO SHE'D FALL LIKE A MILLION FOOT DROP.

Also I may have not forgiven him (He literally killed Alex's dad and brother and like 6 other people and tried to kill alex)

Also everyone believed me except elanor (I told Riley she had alzhiemers so she ended up having to stay here (sorry) and she said that Alex was crazy and needs help 😭)

About to add stephs wavelengths onto this let me just play it first >:) -10:23pm

I'm so getting steph fired I suck at this

I just took all the pride decor down :( (it's already 11:51pm plz help). "People are always afraid to take the ones chloe made," Chloe? CHLOE PRICE YIPPEE!!! CHLOES VOICE OMG OMG OMG HI!!!! What the hell am I doing here? LIFE IS STRANGE TRUE COLORS ALEX CHEN SINGING CREEP REFRENCE???

😭😭😭 She was having storm flashbacks on October 11th that's why she was being so avoident.

The flashback with Rachel and Chloe was priceless chloe would say that

I like how Steph and Mikey talked on that day and got through the day.

She's so me for having a million different things at her desk to keep her occupied

I love how it ended with the start of the actual game.

Also I love how all 3 dlcs had a scavenger hunt

Yippeee

[lovebvni]

Shifting tips plz?

hey hon!! i’m going to be honest, i’ve been avoiding answering this because i feel like this is a three part thing. before shifting, during shifting, and after an attempt. so im gonna try to answer it like that.

!! long blog ahead !!

pre-shift

• before a shift, it’s good to meditate. get your mind, soul and intention on one thing, making an attempt.

• set an intention/affirm! for a few minutes, just say “i am going to shift.” “i have shifted.” “i will shift this attempt.” “i always succeed when i shift” or things like that. get it deep into your mind, into your bones! let the universe hear it!!

• do something to tire you out PHYSICALLY! this is some advice i haven’t seen before, but has helped me. if your physical body is tired, it’s easier for it to fall asleep so it can recover. but, after exercising, your mind and subconscious wasn’t doing much, so it still has energy to spare!

• hype yourself up! another thing i don’t see much, making yourself excited to shift. if you’re pumped with adrenaline, and then you’re about to do that action to get where you’re going (example, you got ready for a party and you’re getting ready to go in your car) you’re going to be like going CRAZY mentally and this will help u so much!!

• reflect! yeah, this is similar to affirming, in the way you’re reminding yourself of what you did and what you can do. remind yourself of that he attempts you made in the past, the symptoms you got, the times you temporarily shifted (or minishifted if u call it that) remind yourself of your power, your abilities!!

• read your script to where you’re shifting! if you have a script, of course, i know some people mentally script or don’t script much, but look over it if you have one. change little things, remind yourself what you look, the colour of your eyelashes compared to your eyebrows. random things like that.

• visualize it. “thoughts become things. if you see it in your mind, you will hold it in your hand” — bob proctor. this isn’t limiting yourself to visualizing, hell, you can SAY you’re doing it. like i sometimes tell myself “i’m going to shower” or “i’m going to make a blog today” then i do it. i saw it in my mind, i spoke it, now i hold it in my hand. and there’s proof! witnesses, bro! sometimes, all you gotta do is think it and believe those thoughts are real.

during a shift

keep focus! or as my pastor once said, keep watch! watch your thoughts, watch your mind. if it starts drifting away from the method and you start thinking you want a sandwich ( *cough cough* me and @shiftingwithhale *cough cough* ) then refocus and redirect your thoughts. “i accept this thought, i will now move back to shifting.” then focus on shifting again. your mind WILL wonder, and that’s not a bad thing! you are human as much as you are god! you will make mistakes! but that doesn’t mean you keep making those mistakes. yall, i accidently stole once and i CRIED MY FUCKING EYES OUTTT!! before returning it. i was so upset i accidentally stole, and i went back in that store CRYING when I gave it back.( i was like 4 btw. i was so scared, it was cold n i wanted to ask my mom for smth but i forgot when i was holding her hand 💀)

listen to a sub/theta waves/a guided method! just something! it helps the brain focus and calms the crazy side. this is obvs if u have the ability to. for example, i know someone who can’t have their phone after a certain time + their parents make sure to take it before and check on them. they aren’t into shifting, it just makes it extremely difficult to talk to them after a certain time 🙄🙄 if u can’t do this, dw!! listen to a sub before going to bed/while doing hw :)

when intrusive/negative thoughts come — “why am i doing this?” “this is stupid.” “i what if i mess this all up bc i gotta sneeze” WHO TF CARES!! LITERALLY MOVE. TELL THEM TO SHUT UP. TELL THEM U WRE BETTER! OR EVEN TAKE A BREAK BRO! the break can literally b a few minutes js to regroup. sit up so you won’t fall asleep, open your eyes, count your fingers and toes (LMAO?? this is specific to someone) and tell yourself “i can do this because i’ve done it. plus other people have done it, all over the world! if one can achieve, so can another.” i feel like it’s so powerful just to remind yourself that if other people can do it you can. if you wanted some new shoes but js got fired from your job n you don’t know what to do, then just wait for a moment. talk to ppl you know. get it done somehow, because eventually you’ll get those shoes, if not better ones!

just do it bro 💀💀 like actually. if you fall asleep after counting to 17 WHO CARES! an awake method can b an asleep method. your brain shutting off does not equal your subconscious shutting down. dude, it CANT DO THAT!! it’s always working, and it works better when your body is resting. keep that in mind.

after an attempt

CELEBRATE i don’t give a shit if you fully shifted or not. you did something. you committed to it. sure, i know it’s hard to keep high spirits, but celebrate the little things. isn’t thanksgiving coming up? be thankful that u found out abt shifting. be thankful you can do an asleep method n shift that way. don’t b mad u didn’t wake up in ur dr, be happy you woke up in a parallel reality and you’re even closer!

write down what worked and what didn’t! if something in your method frustrates or confuses you, change it or remove it. if you visualize in the middle of the method, and you don’t like it, drop it 🤷 do what helps YOU PERSONALLY! use this as a form of journaling. and also, take a deep breath and write out your frustrations w shifting. then write what you love about it. always balance the negative w positive <3

do a reality check! make sure you’re not in a dream. weather you shifted where u want to or not, it’s always good to get in the habit of doing reality checks. it may surprise u and allow u to lucid dream and then shift!!

be in the present! if you didn’t shift, fuck that! you’re here right now and that’s what you can control! sure, you didn’t shift in the PAST but you can in the PRESENT and the FUTURE! so focus on that. it helps with your hope and motivation <3

that’s all i have for u lovely! if i think of anything else, i will update this blog, bc i do rlly believe and hope it will help people <3 this is another blog that made me think, so thank you for that! :)

i love u honey!! i wish u the best on your shifting journey !!

[ioveyouyouloveme]

A Tie between Two Hearts (Part 1)

Irene (Red Velvet) × Fem g!p reader × Elsa (Frozen)

Warnings : This series contains suggestive content, mentions of drinking, cheating, stalking, mentions of torture, possessiveness. Plz indicate any triggers I did not mention.

Pics not mine credits to the original owner

Word count: 1.1k

꧁༺ƈօռȶɨռʊɛ ʀɛǟɖɨռɢ༻꧂

"Y/n get your ass down here!" Her roommate yelled at her as she left her room and walked down the stairs. When she got to the bottom of the stairscase Irene was waiting for her. "Finally-" She said rolling her eyes "I was beginning to think that you were never gonna make it down the staircase." she said walking towards the couch "Now hurry the fuck up, the movie's about to start." by the time she reached to couch Irene was already waiting with the blanket open. Y/n gave her a questioning look and she responded "What? I want cuddles." Y/n chuckled softly before entering the blanket.

꧁༺-------༻꧂

Elsa felt herself almost trip as the ship swayed violently, the storm growing stronger. To balance herself she hold on to the side of the ship. Out the corner of her eye she saw Kristoff approach her also holding on to the side of the boat. "The captain says it's too dangerous to continue!" He shouts over the storm "Then we turn back, go back to Arrendale and choose a new course!" "Unfortunately that won't be possible!" The captain said approaching them. She let out a frustrated sigh. They had heard reports from neighbouring kingdoms say that on their way to Arrendale they saw a strange island that seemed to entrance their ships captains and cause them to drive directly into a storm, this phenomenon was the current reason as to why they were on this ship. Soon after the captain told them the bad news they heard one of the crewmates scream "Holy shit! Look to the skies!!" Their heads all whipped up looking towards the sky. What they saw made all of them freeze in fear. A bolt of lightning rushed passed them hitting directly towards the centre of the ship causing for a white blinding light to shine across the entire ship. Everyone squeezed their eyes shut in attempts to stop themselves from being blinded.

When Elsa opened her eyes she was no longer on the ship, but rather on solid ground. She frantically looked around searching for Anna, Kristoff and Olaf. The place was thick with fog which made it exceptionally difficult to find them. After a while she saw the outline of their silhouettes through the fog.

The closer she got to them the clearer their muffled voices got. "Calm down! How am I supposed to calm down, in this situation?!" I heard Kristoff's voice "I don't know, just find a way to. I'm freaking out too and we can't have both of us freaking out, so you need to man up and stay calm!" Anna said obviously frustrated by the situation. Elsa heard Olaf's voice say "Guys I think it would be very beneficial if we all just took a deep breath in-" They all took in a deep breath "And let it go." They all started letting go of their breath but Anna abruptly stopped "Let it go? Let it go! Oh my god where is Elsa!?" she asked frantic "I'm right here Anna." She said emerging from the fog. Anna ran to Elsa and embraced her in a tight hug. Anna pulled away from the hug with a concerned look on her face "What's wrong?" Elsa asked concerned "Elsa where exactly are we?" "I don't know." She answered "Where ever we are it seems to be a very wet and creepy place." Kristoff said obviously tired of standing in the rain "Umm, I don't know where we are either, but where ever it is, it seems the person that lives here is very wealthy." Olaf said looking in the opposite direction of them.

They followed his gaze and were met with the site of mansion. "Holy sh-" "Kristoff please keep it PG-13." "I'm gonna knock and ask for help." Olaf said already standing in front of the door "Woah woah woah!" They simultaneously said. Olaf paused and turned his body towards them, paused for another brief second then knocked "Olaf no!" They said "Was I not supposed to do that?"

꧁༺-------༻꧂

Y/n and Irene were watching 'Jeniffer's body.' when it started raining. When it got to the scene where Jennifer kisses Needy Y/n heard Irene whisper "Damn Megan Fox is Hot." "That she is my friend." Irene turned her head towards her "What? You thought I didn't hear you?" Irene then shyly turned her head back towards the TV "But she isn't as hot as you." Irene looked at Y/n wide eyed with her cheeks a rosy color. She bashfuly turned her back towards the TV in attempts to ignore Y/n's comment but Y/n quickly grabbed hold of her chin and turned Irene's head in her direction "Irene I know you're not that emotionally dense." She said gazing deeply into her eyes. She gently removed her thumb and index finger from Irene's chin. Irene was stunned to say the least "Um-I-mm I don't know what to say." "You don't have to say anything. I was just letting you know." Y/n said tucking some of Irene's her behind her ear. This action made Irene's cheeks flush which caused Y/n to chuckle lightly.

"It's fine if you don't feel the same way." Y/n said getting up to leave. When she turned around Y/n felt Irene's hand grab on to her wrist and gently pull her back on to the couch "Y/n will you be my girlfriend?" Irene asked looking deeply into Y/n's eyes "I thought you'd never ask." Y/n swiftly leaned in and connected their lips to Irene's. The kiss was soft, sweet and filled with love.

Their kiss was then interrupted by the sound of two knocks coming from the door. The two looked towards the door confusion 'who could possibly be knocking here at this time of night?'

Y/n quickly got off the couch and told Irene to stay in the living room. She cautiously made her way to the door. As she got closer she could hear hushed murmurs behind the door. Y/n swung the door open with great force which startled the people on the other side of the door. Looking at them through the fog Y/n had a strange feeling, deja vu if you will. It was if she had seen these very silhouettes before but she couldn't quite tell from where. Slowly one of the figures emerged from fog. The first thing Y/n took notice of was the woman's dress, it had an icy blue colour and had a very specific make to it, Y/n could've sworn sh had seen it somewhere. To engrossed in her thought, Y/n hadn't noticed that the woman was now standing in front of her "Umm… Hello? Hi? Sorry…ma'am?" Y/n was broken out of her trance when the woman snapped her fingers. "Hi I am Elsa of Arrendale and if you could please tell us where we are?" Y/n looked at the woman's face in pure shock.

What. The. Fuck.

Tag list: @grandrebelfestivaldreamer @hermyjack2003 @hiroko-kirari07 @dreantttttttttt

[sugarwithtea]

Hello can you do 3 14 and 12 from fluff2 plz

rise and shine | jhs

pairing : boyfriend!hoseok x reader

genre : fluff, humour

rating : sfw

summary : hobi wakes you up but you are being whiny.

word count : 793

warnings : swearing

author's note : this one was a very cute request, thankyou so much!! also, thanks to @oddinary4bts for beta-ing this cute guy so quickly hehe! ily!

prompt : "good morning, sweetie" + "sad...i have a blanket with all this extra room and no one to share it with." + "your hugs are nice.." from this list.

Were your dreams always so colorful?

Or is it something which happened after the entry of a certain someone in your life?

Well, sadly, you aren't able to dwell on that feeling too much because that certain someone has been trying to wake you up for the last 15 minutes.

"Good morning, sweetie." He adds the pet name just to annoy you. Bastard.

"Hobi please," you whine and pull the blanket over your head.

It's fucking 10 am.

This guy can't be serious to wake you up this early on a goddamn Sunday. 

"Rise and shine, sunshine," he almost yells – or you feel like he does because your state is still partially lucid.

"Call me an emo bitch. I am not a sunshine" you grumble and turn the other side.

You snuggle deeper into your bed when there's no noise from him but then grimace a second layer when he suddenly opens up the curtains.

"Ah. Just met an emo bitch named sunshine." 

"Hobi. I don't need memes on a Sunday morning."

He laughs as he comes near you and his scent invades your senses.

It's comfortable, colorful and very warm. You have a habit of describing people and scents with colors, and Hobi feels like yellow mixed with pink. But he also has an alter-aura – if that's a thing – which gives off severe deep orange and emerald vibes. And as always, your morning thoughts do not make any sense.

He pats your cheek twice and pinches it, as you squirm in your place like a child and roll away from him, lying on your stomach.

A sigh sounds out in the room and you realize it's his Sunday morning too. You aren't tired or exhausted, you are just being lazy. And if he has been trying to wake you up from the past few minutes, you feel that you should comply with him.

So, grumbling absolute gibberish, you roll over and sit up in bed, and almost immediately something hits your head.

"Ow."

It's pink and squishy. With those signature Kaws symbols. Fucking Hoseok.

"Oh my god I'm-" he doubles down while laughing as you take the fluff toy in your hand, "I'm sorry. I thought you wouldn’t wake up so I was," ha ha ha the only sound that comes out of him as he sits down on the floor with his hand on his tummy, "I was going to hit you with it, but you sat up suddenly. Oh my god."

Your grumbling doesn't stop as he straightens up and looks at you cheerfully, enjoying your disheveled state.

"I was waking up for your sake but now I'm ughh," you whine and sit back against the headboard, moving your blanket here and there.

"Now you are what?" he tries, holding his laughter in with pursed lips.

"Sad … I have a blanket with all this extra room and no one to share it with." You also spread your blanket to emphasize your statement and look down with a pout.

He laughs and your pout turns into a small smile, held back by you chewing the inside of your cheeks. Your hands are still fluffing up the blanket when he pulls it out of your hand. You look up, surprised, and watch him getting into the bed, pulling the blanket over his legs with his mouth set in a triangle.

"This is all because I love you," he grumbles and you smile brighter than the sun. You know he does this because he loves you, but you also know how much he enjoys your lazy shenanigans. It's just a matter of how long it will take him to break his character – which convinces absolutely no one.

You snuggle up to his side and look up at him with that same shit-eating grin of yours. It's a hobby. Annoying your boyfriend is your hobby. And you love it – as much as you love him. You wrap your hand around his torso, as you lay your head on his chest, eyes closing at the feeling of utter comfort.

And of course, he breaks. Not even a second later his hand finds solace on your waist and he tugs you closer (if possible). The way you can feel his smile shining on his face, even with your eyes closed, makes it impossible to stop the rising feeling in your chest. You can never ask for a better Sunday morning than being wrapped up in his arms.

"Your hugs are so nice-"

"Always, yes. One of my talents," he cuts you off and you let him continue about how useful his talents are for you.

And certainly, you can't deny it. Because there is nothing in your life that you value more than Jung Hoseok.

---

feedback, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated so please let me know your thoughts :)))

© sugarwithtea. please do not repost.

[arsoooooonmun]

The Last Time.

An Abby Anderson "The Last Time" by Taylor Swift inspired one-shot AU

Reader is in her mid 20's, but this doesn't have any mature scenes.

Avoided the use of Y/N.

Abby might be OOC in some dialouges.

There are no specific features of the reader because this is just pure angst. :))

hehe grammar might not be oh-so-good bear with me plz 😘🤞

enjoy . (i cried while writing this)

AUTHORS NOTE: Hi! I know I just ghosted the very first work of mine (SHOT), but I had a huge reason for it: I am busy. (I actually got lazy and was mentally unready for the amount of notes that the social media au I posted got. I also was burned out from those types of au, so.... have this. A one-shot.)

Abby didn't notice it at first. She thought it was all normal. Burn-outs are normal in a relationship, aren't they?

Sure, the relationship was rocky at first because Abby told you in the first place that she wasn't ready for commitment, but she told you, "I'll do my best for you."

Now, you just feel like gaslighting your way out of this place because you are so suffocated in the room that was once a home for you, but now, you wish nothing but to leave.

She never told you that within that phrase, you had to sacrifice yourself too.

Three years had passed ever since you two were official. The first two years were fun, laughing while looking at the sunset — staring at her freckles when she smiled so hard while talking about your memories together.

And now they're all going just to be memories.

It's a Friday night, and Abby was supposed to be free. Abby was a neurosurgeon, and yes, the work is hard, but aren't you working hard too while also making the time for her?

And god forbid, but you hoped she didn't forget that it's your fourth year together. You wished that she didn't forget your anniversary again.

You called her and texted her again and again, but nothing. Three hours and it's now 2am, your anniversary has now passed.

Your tears were flowing and clenched hard on your shirt. It was a simple request, you decorated the whole place, and you asked her to come home early since she is off at work at 9 pm.

You weren't that hard to please, a bouquet of flowers, a box of chocolates — heck even a simple letter will make you understand her.

Still nothing.

And now Abby just opened the door.

Looking at her walk, she was drunk.

She forgot it again.

Abby didn't even notice you sitting on the couch.

"Oh, I don't know you are still awake." Abby told you once she noticed you. Your hurt crushed with the thought that she didn't even tell you why she was late and drunk.

"Abby, do you even know what time it is?" With all your remaining patience and love, you hid your disappointment and tried to understand.

"Sorry, me and my workmates decided to drink. It's just a fun refreshment." Abby looked around and noticed the balloons scattered on the floor.

"Why are there balloons? Did anyone even think of cleaning up? Were your friends here?"

Your eyes widen and tears started streaming down your face again.

"It's our fucking anniversary, Anderson." Your words were filled with anger. It was heart-wrenching, you wanted to puke right then and there, is Abby even your girlfriend anymore?

Does she even love you anymore?

It seems like cold water has washed over Abby, and she looked at you with wide eyes.

"Oh my god, I am sorry, darling —" You cut her off before she had the chance to continue her apology with the same reasons again.

You sighed loud enough and looked down. "I am done, Abby."

"I am done with us. Let's break up."

Abby's face froze all over, you couldn't see it and you shouldn't because you know deep inside you'll take your words back but then, you'll hurt yourself all over again.

And you were honestly tired.

"I can't bear the thought that you can just say sorry and then hurt me all over again. God fucking dammit Abby, this isn't even the first time you forgot an occasion about us. You fucking forgot my birthday last year and this year. And you know what? I forgave you because you were working that day. But do you also know that all of your birthdays were as special as mine for me? I took a day off to celebrate your birthday on that place you wished so badly to visit, and you remember what you did? You fucking yelled at me telling me you can't just take a day out of your work and even scolded me for using MY money. MY hard work earned money to make YOU happy." You cried your heart out, and the tone of your voice was filled with pure anger.

"You told me you never asked for that much, then what do you think what love is?" Your voice cracked and you clenched your fists.

"Do you even know how painful it was that you can never love me the same way as I love you, but have you even thought of doing something for me?" Abby's hands were now shaking, thinking what to do.

She never saw you this way. Abby never wished to see you and hurt you this way.

But she did, and she knew nothing could ever fix this, and that slapped her into the reality that she never deserved the love that you gave her.

The warm hugs that washed all her problems away, and your smiles that made her think of what life was all about.

Abby will lose it — she lost it the moment she entered the room without thinking of how important you were to her.

An apology will never fix this.

All that can fix this is letting you decide what will happen between you two. Abby knew she'll be left alone in this cold apartment you both called home before.

Frustration and guilt filled Abby's body. She lost you, and she didn't know what to do with herself. She didn't know which move to take while you were in front of her, you were not even looking at her way and waiting for her response.

Does Abby even deserve to tear up? Knowing she was the reason why the both of you are in this situation right now. Why did she lose the person that she needed the most?

How can she ever live with this memory of you crying because of her? And losing herself and you in the process?

"I—" You couldn't look at Abby, who finally spoke. Abby immediately clenched her hands on her chest, and tears were pouring all over her freckles and cheeks that you once kissed.

"Is that.. is that what you want?" You swallowed, and it finally kicked in that this was real. Abby is in front of you and was asking if breaking up was what you wanted. "Is that what you need?" Your heart crushed even more, thinking that Abby was probably loathing herself from the thought that you needed to go away from her to heal.

But it is — it is what you need.

"Yes." One word, one word that once made you and Abby smile. That one word that made you both official is also the reason why the formed sweet memories turned them into dust.

Abby felt her whole world collapsing. You don't need her anymore. She can't watch you while having fun, running towards the sun while on the beach, singing songs wholeheartedly on a random roadtrip, and she could never kiss those lips of yours that made her feel special.

She can't ask for your hand, can't hold you close, and can never make you love her all over again.

Nothing can reach the pain that is creeping inside both of your hearts.

"Okay." That was all Abby could say despite all of the words that were running on her mind.

"If that's what you want — what you need. Then, I'll give it." You felt so weak, so vulnerable, and Abby knew you hated that.

"I know my apologies wouldn't ever fix the pain I gave you. Your courage of telling me that was enough to make me think of how long you were enduring this." Abby sighed deep and was stopping herself from kneeling, begging you to come back because she knew you won't be able to hold back from holding her no matter how painful it was for you.

She never had the chance to take back whatever she had done, never able to make you feel the way you made her feel, and that is what will ghost her for the rest of her life reminiscing you.

"I love you. I really do, and I am sorry I wasn't able to show it because of how stubborn I was thinking you would understand with all of my work, and you did. And I fucking wish you didn't."

"You sacrificed a lot of things for me, and I — I can't even remember to celebrate your birthday and our anniversary." You finally looked at Abby, and she was crying. She was shaking her head, and you saw her trying her best to let out all of her frustrations.

"You deserve better. It sucks because it's true, and I wasn't able to be the best for you because all I thought was me. I was selfish. You weren't, and god, I hope someone will love you — " Abby was hating herself with the thought of someone loving you better than she ever did. All she hoped before was to be someone you can rely yourself to and now she is hoping you will never meet someone like her again.

"I hope that someday, someone will love you how you deserved to be love because that was what you did to me, and it hurts that I never made you feel that way." You sat down the couch, processing all of her words, and you cried. You both cried hard — knowing that she was right.

"I am so glad that I met you and to show how much I love you,"

Abby looked into your eyes.

"You can let go of us now."