close-your-eyes-and-open-your-mind

anonymous asked:

A fluffy moment with Hanzo and ZenSis! after their babies have just been born?

You sighed, your body exhausted from giving birth. Hanzo pulled you into his arms and you settled into his warm embrace. He rubbed your back as your eyes started to drift close, hearing Mercy fuss around with the whimpering babies.

“We have children,” you murmured and Hanzo grunted, “It’s a bit weird to think about.”

“A little,” Hanzo said and you sighed.

Your eyes whipped open and you tried to sit up, grunting in pain, “We never decided on names.”

Hanzo swore under his breath, hearing Mercy coming back to have them fill out the birth certificate. 

“First thing that comes to mind,” you said, “I’ll do the boys and you do the girls.”

The two of you blurt the first name that came to mind, smiling at the other.

Meditation

Lately I’ve been stressed. Work, grad school, personal life has all been weighing down me this week.
I got back from the gym about 30 minutes ago. I walked in the house, I put down my bag, sat on the couch and closed my eyes. I cleared my mind of the worries, stressors, and deadlines I have coming up. I opened my eyes to a clear mind and a drastically changed attitude.
Point of this post is for those people that feel like they have stress in their life and can’t seem lose the negative feelings that come along with that.

Meditate.

Take 5 minutes to close your eyes, feel your breath, and clear your mind. You literally feel weightless from those worries being lifted off you.

I have neglected this for some while, but I’m definitely meditating few times a week from now.

Till Next Time

whenimaunicorn  asked:

You’re passing a horn of mead around the fire when one of the shieldmaidens from another kingdom proposes a salacious game from her homeland. She sets before you Hvitserk, Sigurd, and Ivar and tells them to close their eyes and not to move no matter what happens. She instructs you: “choose one of them to slap, one to lick, and one to fondle.” Make your choices, and if you’re brave enough, describe what you do in more detail (Where? How hard? How do they react?)

You drink deeply from the horn while contemplating your choices. Three helpless princes at your mercy; the possibilities seem endless. You saunter over to Sigurd, a nice plan forming in your somewhat drunken mind. He instantly opens his eyes when he feels your weight on his lap.

“No looking.” You reprimand in a slurred voice and you could swear that he blushes a little. He closes his eyes again and you entangle your fingers in his hair. You hold the blonde curls back so that his ear becomes exposed and lean in to lick at his earlobe. Sigurd shudders underneath you as your tongue teases at his skin.You hear the audience whistle and call out encouraging words. The attention of your warm, wet tongue becomes too much for him to handle and his hands lock on to your waist. You pull back and the crowd boos at him. You jump up from his lap, moving as gracefully as possible, and somehow you manage not to fall.

“I need restraints!” You shout “Ropes, rags, what have you. These boys are not very compliant, it seems.” After a few minutes of frantic searching, one of your friends hands you some mixed stumps of rope. Once the princes have all been restrained, you continue with the plan that you hope will result in as much enjoyment as possible for you. You stand in front of Hvitserk, so close that he can smell you. He smiles smugly, confident the he will be fondled. After all, he had been giving you some extra attention earlier tonight and surely you had to reciprocate the gesture. 

“Come now, don’t be shy.” He purrs. Time to wipe that look of his face. Your hand cracks against Hvitserk’s right cheek and his head jerks to the side. He opens his eyes and look at you, completely dumbfounded.

“That’s for trying to lift my skirt earliert.”You say, loud enough for all to hear. Everyone in the crowd break out in laughter. Most of them had seen Hvitserk drunkely make a pass at you and it had been clear to everyone but Hvitserk himself that you were not at all interested at that particular moment. You had flirted with him many times before and even allowed him to slip his hand down your pants to feel at your ass, but you don’t like the idea of him thinking he is in control of the relationship and so you have to put him in his place.

“Sweet revenge!” You call out while slowly spinning in a circle, egged on by the cheers erupting from all around you. You turn to the last prince and smile deviously. Everyone falls silent again, probably wondering why the hel you’ve chosen to fondle the impotent cripple. To the spectators, it must look like you have a death wish. You ignore their judging eyes and get down on your knees in front of Ivar. His lower lip is quivering in a very obvious way; he now knew that he would get fondled. His nervousness tugs at your heart and you decide to hurry up so that he can relax again. A murmur goes through the crowd as you remove the straps holding his legs together. You press yourself between his legs and Ivar starts to shake even more.

“Relax.” You purr as you let your hands slide up the insides of his thighs. You had always found it annoying to hear people snicker behind Ivar’s back about his assumed impotency. It was one time, you’ve had trouble getting it up on at least two occasions you had pointed out to a man that you occasionally let into your bed. Of course, with Ivar it might be different due to his illness; but you were more than willing to take the risk, especially now that your brain was marinating in mead. Just the thought of how pleased he would be with you if you could awaken his cock in front of everyone was enough to make you wet. You tilt your head and allow your cheek to briefly rub against the front of Ivar’s pants, prompting him to gasp. You let one hand slip under his tunic to feel at anything you can reach, while the other one tends to his cock.

“What is happening?” Sigurd asks, confused by the sudden change in the volume of the crowd.

“Is she giving Ivar much more time than us? That’s not fair.” Hvitserk protests.

“We never set a time limit.” You remind them without losing focus on your current work, but Ivar tenses up at their words.

“Just ignore them and let me continue. I can feel that it is working; can’t you?” You say in a low voice so that only Ivar will hear. He remains tense while mulling over your words, but ultimately he listens to you and sits back in the chair. You become more zealous in your movements and a loud moan escapes Ivar’s mouth. Sigurd and Hvitserk can no longer resist the urge to look and you smile at their shocked faces when they see you sitting between the legs of their now slack-jawed brother. Ivar tries to free his hands but when he doesn’t succeed he grinds his hips to meet your palm and fingers. Everyone has gone dead silent and all you can hear is the crackle of the fire and Ivar’s pleased moans. Finally, you squeeze him through his pants and then you let go. Ivar whines at the loss of contact and opens his eyes to give you the most pleading look you have ever seen.

“We can finish this soon.” You whisper while pulling back from him. You find some more mead and raise your cup to the shieldmaiden that proposed the game.

“I think I have a new favorite game.” You giggle at her and take a deep sip. The crowd breaks out in cheers again and it feels deafening to hear it so soon after the long silence. You do not bother with freeing the princes from their restraints; they would have to figure that out on their own. Instead, you sway back and forth to the music that someone is creating with their lute, making sure that they can see you as you dance with your back turned to them. After a while you glance over your shoulder and discover that they have called someone over to help remove the ropes. You pause and wait for them to be freed, and when they rise from the chairs you make eye contact with each of them. You walk away from the big fire, away from the feast, and move deeper into the forest. You can hear them following you; two sets of footsteps and one dragging noise  You come to small clearing and stand in the middle of it, waiting for them to catch up. Hvitserk is first, but Sigurd is close behind. Ivar drags himself to a fallen tree and sits on it. Hvitserk licks his lips when he eyes you.

“You really can’t tease us all like this, you have to choose.” He says. You raise your eyebrows and put your hand on your hips, the mead that is rushing through your body hasn’t exactly made you more demure.

“I don’t have to do anything. Besides, I’ve been told that you boys are very good at sharing.” Sigurd and Hvitserk exchanges glances while Ivar stares at you, one of his hands stroking over the bulge in his pants. You wink at him before turning back to his brothers.

“Fine” Hvitserk says at last “but I go first.” He tries to wrap an arm around you but you step to the side. In your drunken state you don’t notice the empty pitcher that someone has left on the ground and you stumble over it, conveniently landing on your ass next to Ivar. He looks down on you with a big grin. You flash a big smile and reach your hand out to find his bulge.

“You’ve taken care of it for me, good boy.” You say enthusiastically when you find that he is still hard. Hvitserk motions to step closer but you wiggle your finger at him like one would when correcting a child.

“I’ve already promised Ivar that he can go first and unlike you two he is ready.” You giggle, one hand still groping at Ivar’s crotch “Go back to the feast and I will find you later.” Ivar throws his head back and groans in pleasure. His brothers sulk as they leave the clearing. Ivar slides down to the ground and rests his back against the trunk. His hands are tugging at your dress before he’s even settled down. You let him do all of the undressing, but make sure that you lift your hips and then your arms to make it easier for him.

“Take off your shirt so that I can see you properly.” While he does what you asked for, you turn your attention to  his trousers instead. His shirt lands in a pile on the ground and he stares at you as you start tugging at his pants.

“Hips up.” You order. He does as he’s told but you can see that he is nervous about how you will react once he’s fully exposed to you. He even closes his eyes to shield himself from any potential pitying look you might give him. He feels his pants being removed and then; nothing. No laughter or “oh, poor Ivar” but also no encouraging touch. Then something brushes against his upper legs and his eyelids twitch.

“Ivar, I’m going to need your help.” He opens his eyes to find you facing away from him, holding yourself up over his erection. You take one of his hands and guide it to your tits, allowing him to hold on. The other hand you guide to your hip.

“Now help me take you in, slowly.” You demonstrate what you mean by allowing yourself to sink a little further down so that his tip nudges against your opening. Ivar follows your instructions and you moan together when he sheathes himself inside you. You only give him a few seconds to adjust before you start moving on top of him. He pants into your neck and kneads your tits eagerly. Then his mouth leaves a trace of kisses from the ack of your neck to your ear. Suddenly, he growls loudly.

“You are a fool, woman. Do you really think that I will let you go to my brothers after this?”

Reaper Werewolf Headcanons

Which was supposed to be here, but I misread.


  • You knew that Reaper had his secrets
    • He was a dangerous man
    • Who you were pretty sure had died once
    • He was pretty dodgy with that whole deal
  • But he would disappear once a month
    • When you joked the obvious thing
      • That he’s a werewolf
    • His face grew even paler
    • Telling you to stay in the house whenever he’s gone
  • However, curiosity gets the better of you
    • Trailing after him on the full moon
    • Using all of the stealth skills Reaper had, ironically, taught you
  • Your heart clenches in your chest as you watch him transform
    • His pained screams echoing in your mind
    • You joked about it
      • But now you were seeing it
    • He immediately snaps his head to you when you break a branch behind you, trying to get away
  • You freeze in terror as he stalks towards you
    • His black furred hackles raised as he growled
    • You close your eyes 
      • Accepting death
    • Death doesn’t come and you feel a tongue drag up your arm
    • You opened to see his head tilt
    • Whining and you gently rest your hand on his head
    • Stroking the mangy fur
Powerful Freeing Exercise for Empaths

“Take a deep breath and close your eyes (or keep them open if you prefer.) Feel your awareness running through the circuitry of your own mind, your own body, as it always does. Now, let it flow and roam beyond the confines of your body. No longer afraid, let yourself search and sift and enfold and be enfolded into the world around you. Feel the pulse of consciousness—your consciousness, mine, ours, and that which is beyond you and me—and yet still is you, claim itself, and experience itself. Free of these labels: mine, yours, theirs, ours, etc. Open your eyes, and repeat this. Move further out, expand and stretch yourself into impossible distance. You may find that you can even feel your own consciousness as far away as the moon, which is now approaching fullness. For the moon, as far away as she is, commands a force of energy which easily becomes one with your sensitive soul. Now, feel the other empaths out there—all of us, stretching and liberating ourselves together. You are helping them, and they are helping you.

Let’s try this for today—and perhaps tomorrow. Maybe five minutes or one minute a day, or a week. Whatever suits you. The important thing is that you’re not alone—as many of us as possible are bending the dimension of consciousness in which we all exist. And we’re beginning to shift humankind towards and into the new age of spiritual revolution.”

— Alayna Freese

anonymous asked:

Pride and trapped

It was hard to open your eyes with a pounding headache. But an achingly familiar voice coaxed you to raise your head and force yourself awake. Through blurry vision, you recognized the face whom the voice belonged to. “Dwayne.” You managed to say. The first word that came to your mind.

Pride gave a small smile, happy to see you were awake and alert. “That’s right, darlin’. You okay?”

You groaned at the question. “Head.” Was the only thing you could come up with before blinking open your eyes all the way. They stung, but you wanted to see Dwayne’s face. “You?”

He gave a small nod. “Our hands are tied, honey. Don’t know where we are. Just get your bearings, and we’ll find a way out.”

Drabbles are closed

Come To Me

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Jin x Reader

Word Count: 1062

Summary: You miss Jin, Jin surprises you.

A/N: Hello! This is the first of a series of drabbles based on my screenshots from the “Spring Day” MV. These stories may or may not have anything to do with the MV itself, it just depends on what each specific screenshot made me feel/think of. Each member will get at least one! I will eventually do more MVs and groups :)


“Y/n…”

His voice dances around softly through your mind like a leaf on the wind. “Y/n…” A little louder. You can almost see the smile on his wonderfully plump lips. “Y/n!” Louder and louder… Happiness is radiating off of him. “Y/n! Y/N!” Wait… he sounds so close? 

“Y/N!”

Your eyes flutter open as his words become loud enough to disrupt your dream. However, you are met with a silence that so greatly contrasts the noise in your slumber. You sigh dejectedly as you eye the empty space on the fluffy white comforter to your right. Lazily, you slide your hand up to where his chest would be, rubbing circles into the soft material. As lovely as it feels, your fingers are itching to caress his skin instead.

Jin has been gone for three months now. Every night, you’d wrap yourself up in the sound of your name falling delicately from his lips through the foggy connection of the phone. With a few I miss you’s and I love you’s, you’d be out like a light. Last night, he couldn’t take your call. He wouldn’t tell you why- and you were left to imagine him calling your name in your dreams. With another sigh, you close your eyes and shift your head back to a comfortable position. You miss him so much and the sadness weighs on your heart like an anvil. A few more hours of sleep to numb the pain sounds like the only solution. You’re about to drift off, until-

“Y/N!”

You shoot up from the bed. That was way too loud to be a dream.

“Y/N! I know you hear me!”

“Jin?” You mumble, scanning the room like a hawk. Was this some kind of prank?

“Y/n! My love!” He’s…. here?

“JIN?!” You immediately fling yourself off of the bed and sprint through your apartment to the front door. Heart racing, you squish your face against it to look through the peep-hole. Nothing. Nobody.

With a slight melody in his tone, you hear him call again, “Y/nnnnnn, jagiiiiiiii…”

“Jin?” You shout, opening the door and instantly shivering at the draft of your apartment building’s stairwell. “Where are you?” You glance around your floor and step to the ledge in the middle that looks down on the lower six floors. You almost lose your balance and lean too far over the railing upon seeing him. “JIN!”

“Ah, finally! I thought you’d never come out!” He laughed loudly and outstretched his arms up to you as if asking you to jump into them. He stands proudly in the center of the first floor. “Come to me!

“Are you crazy?!” You laugh with him and run your fingers through your hair in disbelief. “You should be coming up to me!” you shout down to him, bouncing down the first few steps, too enlivened to care about putting on your slippers or any clothing other than Jin’s oversized blue t-shirt. You shift your gaze from your flying feet to your boyfriend who is starting his own path up lowest stairs. After almost tripping upon leaning over the railing again to see him, you stop and catch your breath. “Jin, I-”

“Don’t stop now, jagi!” He beams up at you as he runs, laughing even more.

“Kim Seokjin, I swear to God-”

“Come on, come to me!”

His long legs bound up the stairs, two at a time now, easily clearing another flight. Your legs start to burn as you continue, but you don’t care. You’re both so close… two, maybe one more flight until…

SMACK!

“Oof! Y/n?” Jin laughs breathlessly as his back hits the wall and you land in his arms. You weren’t looking at him as you rushed down those last two flights, determined to be in your boyfriend’s embrace once again. You lost your momentum on the last few steps of the third floor and flew straight into Jin, the both of you stumbling into the wall of the stairs together. As you regain your balance and your adrenaline rush subsides, you look up to see your handsome lover smiling at you, face slightly flushed from the brisk run. You feel his arms gently constrict around your waist. You had almost forgotten how warm and secure they felt… “Hey Y/n,” he says softly, drawing you closer to him until your fluttering heartbeats are practically talking to each other.

You waste no time gripping the front of his shirt with both hands and pulling him down for a frenzied kiss. Finally, after three long and despairing months, your beloved Seokjin has returned to you. The aching cold in your chest is soon replaced with the blooming warmth that only your boyfriend can give to you. You pull away with a breathy laugh, and gaze up at him with watery eyes. “Jin,” you sigh happily and tilt your head as you drink in his appearance.

Neither of you speak for a moment; you both simply enjoy the silence and each other’s presences. Your eyes flit around his facial features as your love for him practically overflows- that is, until you remember last night. “Why didn’t you call me last night?” You playfully smack his arm and half-scowl at him.

He chuckles and leans his head back against the wall before looking back at you fondly. “I was about to get on the plane to come back to you early. I wanted to surprise you.” You soften your gaze at his words and place a light peck on his lips.

“Well, it worked. You freaked me out this morning, yelling like that! I’m surprised our neighbors haven’t come out complaining.” You laugh lightly and lace your fingers with his, swinging them in the small space between you. He looks down at them and grins until he notices your slipper-less feet.

“Jagi, you’ll catch a cold! Here, hop on.” He leans down a bit in front of you, motioning to his back. You hesitantly climb onto him and cling to him like a koala.

“You’re gonna carry me up four flights of stairs?” You mutter in his ear as he stands up straight and shifts your weight, securing his arms around your bare legs.

“You came all the way down here to me barefoot,” he jests, looking back at you and planting a sloppy kiss on your cheek. “I think I can take you back up.”


Hey, yall! New GOT7/BTS writer here! I used to write for many fandoms, but most recently, Kpop has swooped in and stolen my heartu. I’m just now getting into writing again after a few years haitus and I thought this would be a great way for me to stretch my muscles and get back into the groove. This is my first of many writings to come. These boys are fantastic muses after all, so I’ll be plenty busy! :)))))

pan-chan64  asked:

Could I request some Kakyoin cuddling their s/o after a really bad week

But of course! I changed up the scenario a bit, so I hope you don’t mind! Enjoy!

Noriaki Kakyoin:

    You slumped against the couch  and relaxed your shoulders as your tired eyes slipped closed. Your limbs hung limply while your eyes were defined by dark and heavy creases under them. Releasing a resigned and weary sigh, a tension had lifted upon the realization that the week was over. It was officially Friday, and you had two days ahead of you to prepare yourself for next week, but your melancholy mood hadn’t lifted. After only two days, you still had to go back into the world. You couldn’t succumb to relief just yet knowing it wouldn’t last long before you had to suffer more.

   With your eyes still closed, you were on the verge of drifting off. In the back of your mind, you had caught the sound of the front door clicking open. After the door had been closed and locked once more, you can hear someone huff through their nose in a laugh.

   "Seems like someone’s had it rough lately.“ Kakyoin chortled.

   He placed his house keys aside before bending down to take off his loafers. As much as you wanted to react to his arrival, you were already asleep by the time he made it to the couch. Carefully sitting next to you, he laced his arms around your middle before gradually straightening himself against the cushions as to lay down with you on top of him. Even in your sleep were you able to feel his warmth bleeding into your form.

  Holding you close, Kakyoin’s heart thumped in accordance to your slow and shallow breaths. Noticing how serenity was plastered across your sleeping face, he only smiled to himself. He was glad to see you finally content after what seemed like forever.

   Falling deeper into unconsciousness, you hadn’t noticed that he placed a lingering kiss on your forehead before sleep started to pool at his own eyelids. Joining you in your moment of peace, he grew oblivious to his surroundings as he too nodded off, enjoying this moment with you.

- Admin CJ

4:00 am.

My eyes are wide open till the sky is no longer pitch black, thoughts are rumbling in my head like an infinite earthquake caused by the crack that you caused inside my heart. perhaps letting all of this out would help numb the pain.

// Ever loved someone so much that you just find yourself staring into the nothingness ,recalling all your past relationship stripping them off  of the word love ? because what you felt then wasn’t close to what you feel now , were every single past relationship seemed irrelevant , and now the only thought that’s going through your mind is FUCK this what everyone has been talking about LOVE.I didn’t sign up for this or at least I didn’t sign up for this intentionally but thinking to myself maybe I did, with every time you leaned in for a kiss and my lips were pressed against yours, with every time your arms were wrapped around me and I held you tightly , with every time my lips uttered “I love you” to you , with every time I held eye contact with your beautiful wide black eyes.In my own defense I couldn’t resist it all ,I couldn’t resist those pretty lips of yours nor could I resist the warmth that your hugs offered were your smell and touch would make everything in this world seem like an atom of nothingness, I couldn’t resist not breaking that fear of eye contact of yours. Most of all i couldn’t resist that cute habit of shyness that you have.

//fucking thing is i think i left so many things in that pink room of yours, all those passionate kisses , the cuddling , your skin being against mine , looking into each other’s eyes thinking that this is it, this is always what we’ve longed for. And then there’s just this moment of me holding you and giving you  a kiss goodbye thinking to myself “what have I ever done to deserve this amazing human being ?”.

//I can’t help but think about you now .. i can’t help but think about how you feel, if you feel anything at all. Do you even miss me? do i cross your mind from time to time? do you wish you could take the bad things back and have me back? Do you still want me? it’s so fucking  hard to think that the  answer to all those questions is no, so I abstain from answering them for you. maybe one night, when you get into your bed, all of those things i’ve left on your sheets would pinch you, would remind you of my existence, maybe .Until then , there isn’t a thing I can do.But I miss you, I miss you so fucking much, you have no idea. i want you back . I would take you back in a heartbeat.

// stay safe.

Finding Love Over Coffee, Pt. 3

Spencer Reid x Reader

Warning: Smut. Reader discretion is advised.

*************************************

Your alarm went off, startling you. Opening your eyes, you noticed that you were in your bedroom. Groggy, you thought, how did I get here? Hearing a moan by your side, you nearly jumped out the bed clicking on your lamp. You looked at your bed to see Dr. Spencer Reid. He noticed your shocked look.
“What’s the matter (y/n)?”
You shook your head and closed your eyes then opened them again. He laughed.
“I’m still here. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
“Am I dreaming?”
“Not anymore. You seem wide awake now.”
“Oh, then I was dreaming.”
You laughed now that you realized that you were dreaming. Spencer was amused. He sat up and tapped the bed for you to sit next to him.
“So what were you dreaming about?”
“I was dreaming of when we met.”
“Oh. That’s a good dream.”
He put his arms around you and kissed your cheek.
“Yes, it was. I mean, is.”
You both giggled. You loved being in his arms. It’s the best feeling in the world. He started kissing your neck. He knew how to get you going.
“Spencer, you know what this does to me.”
He looked into your eyes and smiled.
“Yes, I know.”
He put his hands into your hair pulling you in for another kiss. Your lips met his with anticipation sending chills down your spine. He laid you down feeling your body. You returned the gesture. Your bodies embraced with sheer passion. His hands moved down your body finding your sweet spot placing his fingers on your clit lightly rubbing it. His lips moving to your neck lightly nibbling.
“Oh Spence.”
You reached for his dick, grabbing hold, stroking it. He moaned in your ear as you stroked it faster. He rubbed your clit faster and put his fingers in your hole causing your lower body to quiver. He kept pushing his fingers in you as he sucked on your breast causing you to come.
“Oh fuck!”
He looked at you smiling pulling his fingers out of you licking them then he positioned himself in between your legs rubbing his dick on you. You wanted him inside you.
“Is it alright that we don’t use a condom?”
“I’m fine with it, if you are.”
You were still a bit breathless from coming as he bent down to kiss you lips as he rubbed his dick until he entered you.
“Oh yes. I’ve been dreaming of this moment.”
He pushed your legs toward your body as he began pumping into you slowly getting into rhythm making you moan. You placed your hands in his long hair pulling him toward you as his rhythm quickened and gets deeper with each push.
“Oh My God! Spence!”
You came again. You couldn’t hold back. He was driving you crazy. He kept going deeper, faster causing you to shake more, sending you over the edge again. The more he fucked you, the more you came, which became to much for him to handle. He shuddered to a stop, pushing deep inside you.
“I’m coming! Oh, Fuck! I’m coming!”
Your hands were still in his hair as you felt his head tilt back causing you to look at his face as he filled you up. Once he was done he looked down at you breathing hard.
“That was amazing.”
“Oh yes it was, Spence.”
He leaned down embracing you as you kissed for a few moments before getting up and pulling out. He fell to your side.
“(Y/N), You’re the first woman I’ve completely given myself to. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
You turned toward him cuddling with him for a moment before getting up to clean up. He followed you into the bathroom putting his arms around you.
“You’re the best thing that has happened to me in a long time. I don’t want to lose you.”
“You won’t lose me.”
He kissed the back of your neck then released you so you both could clean up.
Walking out the room, you realized that if you don’t get yourself together that you’ll be late for work and so will Spencer.
“Shit, Spence. We’ll be late for work.”
“We better get dressed quickly. Guess, I’ll have to grab my coffee when I drop you off at work.”
“Haha. You always do that.”
You both laughed as you finished getting ready then out the door to work.
***********************
Terena G. Pickett (2017)

139 Dreams ☁ 006: Realization (Xanxus)

Title: 139 Dreams

Anime: Katekyo Hitman Reborn

Pairing: Xanxus x Reader

Word Count: 1,037

Genre: Fluff

Prompt: Realization

Originally posted by yakumocchi

006
Realization
☺(Papa) Xanxus☺

You let out a yawn as you leaned back on the couch, re-adjusting the small boy that was sleeping on top of you. Your legs were propped up on the coffee table, ankles crossed, and your elbow was sat on the armrest as you stared blankly through half-lidded eyes at the TV. Silent Library was on, but you paid it no mind, being too tired to notice or care. You just stared blankly at the screen, your mind half in a state of unconsciousness. It wasn’t long before you fell asleep.

It was about three hours later when your front door creaked open, a dark shadowy figure entering the home before silently closing the door behind him. Despite the boots on his feet, he managed to stalk into the living room without making a sound, other than the grunt of disapproval at the fact that you had left your front door unlocked. The male stood over you, his crimson eyes taking in the sight.

You were sat on the leather sofa with your feet propped up on the wooden table, your shoes still on. Your head was resting against your fist, while your free arm was wrapped securely around the waist of the small black haired boy who had his arms wrapped around your neck in return.

Letting out a grunt of annoyance at the position the two had decided to fall asleep in, he slowly removed the small male from your grip, holding him in his arms and taking him into his bedroom. Once the small boy was tucked in, the man returned to the living room, picking you up bridal style and carrying you to your own room. He set you down on the bed, roughly removing your shoes and throwing them across the room before stripping down and climbing in next to you, his arm secure around your waist. Within minutes, the male was asleep.

You woke with a small groan, your back hurting from the position you had previously been in. That pain went ignored when you felt an arm around your waist, belonging to a stark naked male. Turning over in said male’s possessive grip, your eyes widened in surprise, not expecting Xanxus to be there. A small smile came to your lips as you stared down at the sleeping male, a warm feeling erupting in your chest.

As quietly as you could manage, you released yourself from his grasp and crawled out of bed. Peeking into the room across from your own, you saw your son sitting up in bed and letting out a soft yawn which he tried to cover with his small hand. His deep orbs shined when he saw you in the door way, stretching his arms out as an indication that he wanted your attention. With a light chuckle, you walked into the room, sitting yourself on the side of his bed and ruffling his dark colored hair.

“Good morning.”

“Morning, mommy!” He smiled, crawling over to hug you. “Mommy?”

“Yes?” You were unaware of the presence hiding behind the door, watching through the crack and listening in on the conversation between you and your son.

“Can we go see Fuuta-nii and Tsuna-nii today?”

“Of course.” You smiled, poking his cheek. “Nana has been trying to get me to come over again, anyway~”

“Auntie Nana is a very kind person. So is Uncle Reborn.”

“They really are.” You agreed. “Are you hungry, sweetheart?”

“Yes mommy!” Yuujirou hoped off the bed, running over to his drawers to get out a change of clothes.

You sent him one last smile before leaving the room. You were surprised to see Xanxus standing there, already fully dressed in his normal attire.

“I’m surprised you’re here.” You mused as you walked past him towards the kitchen.

He scoffed in response, sitting down at the kitchen table and crossing his legs, his crimson orbs set in a glare. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” You hummed, mixing the pancake batter. “You want any?”

“Che. No.” He scoffed again, grabbing a nearby newspaper and absentmindedly flipping through it.

Yuujirou appeared moments later, freezing in the doorway as he caught sight of his father. A smile replaced his shocked expression before he ran over, jumping onto the older man’s lap. “Papa!”

Despite himself, Xanxus couldn’t help how his eyes softened slightly, his hand resting on top of the small boy’s black locks. Xanxus came to realize soon after Yuujirou was born that, no matter how hard he tried (and he tried hard), he could not bring himself to be cruel or cold in anyway to the small boy.

“How long are you going to be staying, papa?” He questioned, his dark orbs staring up at his father in wonder.

“Couple weeks.” Xanxus grunted, purposely avoiding the boy’s child-like stare.

Your eyebrow rose at this as you glanced over your shoulder before looking back to the frying pan where the pancakes were cooking. You didn’t question him, too satisfied that he was actually sticking around for a while this time. It made you feel content for several reasons (one of which her pride stopped her from admitting… to him, at least).

Xanxus, sensing your change in mood, glared at your back with a scoff as he moved his son off his lap and into the chair next to him. He couldn’t help but notice the happy expression his son wore when you set down a plate of pancakes in front of him. He also noticed the small smile that you wore as you sat across from him, drinking a soda and watching your son eat with a contented expression.

Fuck it, he thought with a glance between the two of you. He was the boss of the fucking Varia. If he wanted to take more than two weeks off work than damn it, he was going to!

With this, Xanxus came to the realization that he really did have feelings for you. And not only that, he realized just how precious his only son really was to him. Even knowing what kind of man Xanxus was, Yuujirou still accepted and loved his Papa, and that was something he wouldn’t be letting go of.

anonymous asked:

in your last ask, you said that covering your eyes affects your minds eye; does closing your eyes do the same thing? i find that i have a hard time focusing with my eyes open lol

Yeah closing your eyes can help you focus better!! In fact I close my eyes a lot when doing spirit work, especially for doing any astral stuff. When I was beginning I actually used a blindfold a lot in order to increase my psychic sensitivities to my surroundings. It really helped to improve my mind’s eye clarity. I guess I didn’t make it clear because i didn’t want to ramble about this stuff but when i said that “covering your eyes affects your minds eye” this is what i was referring to.

So now you’re probably wondering “uhhh if it helped u see better with ur mind’s eye in the past then why now did u use a blindfold to obscure it???” My only answer to that is that’s why I’ve been saying that I don’t know if it even helped when speaking with D.S. It just seemed like a good idea at the time I guess lol. Maybe it had something to do with the intent? You know, i put on the blindfold with the intent of blocking my minds eye so it was sort of blocked. But before I put it on with the intent of improving my minds eye and thus it was improved. I don’t know x3

So basically, you’re awesome and you should keep doing what you’re doing cause it works for you and I support you 100%. I was merely just experimenting with the blindfold to see if it had any effect.    

you go to the fog place yourself this time. it’s like turning to the side suddenly, a narrow periphery only open for a second. 

although you did not coordinate this, cm florence is already there, as though waiting. you register that she is wearing the white dress, patterned in vertical lines of embroidered flowers. it splits open at the knee and petals around her. cotton or something, vaguely soft. 

have you made up your mind?

i think so.

mm. i just want to look at your face for a moment before we go. here. you are already quite close in the fog. she takes your head between her hands and looks not really at you, but- you’re not sure what. her eyes flick back and forth for a moment, and then she makes a soft ohh in the back of her throat and smiles, lets go. i think we’re ready then. we can talk once we get there.
the fog starts thinning out this way. 

and just like that, you’re walking after her, slightly behind, noticing once more her particular certainty about where her feet will fall. 

the fog begins to change color and then smell and then the ground shifts under your feet and turns both soft and compact-

the trees make a cathedral around you. 

the light falls down slowly through the canopy, softened and diffused by layers and layers of intersecting green boughs. a feeling of depth. under the vast scale of the red cedars, the muted light makes you feel as though you are deep deep underwater, peacefully swimming in something infinitely larger than yourself

florence’s bare feet stepping forward ahead of you, the tattoos on her ankles too fast / for freedom winking as she moves through patches of shadow and sunlight

your feet are bare too. the duff and compacted needles are cool and springy, slightly resilient underfoot. you do not leave footprints.

the clearing itself is held in the lap of an enormous redwood cedar. an irregular oblong framed with ferns, the edges slipping back into the paths that snake through the woods. park benches in a single line mark the far boundary of the space. the iron has grown almost green with sea patina, all fogged over and glassy. 

do you remember being here?

you raise your face, feeling the scent of sea and cedar, the soft light sifting down. all the bracken and ferns and ridges of earth where older trees used to be create a bowl around you, like being in a cupped green palm

yeah. it’s gentle but pungent, the smell of the cedar all around you, the cedar earth a fragrant dark rich red under your feet. red as old blood. the smell is like a prayer. you have pressed your face to it a hundred thousand times, in sickness and in health. 

you came back here? afterward, to this memory?

i think it was the last place i really felt safe, for a long time. something about being so ill and such beauty still existing in the world. it made sense to hold onto that. 

she nods. i thought it might be a good place for this. you have it in common between you.. you were here after bandon. you were so raw, and this was a calm eye in the middle of all that… you don’t have many of those. a wry, but gentle smile.

and i was alone here.

you were. which also makes it special, gives it that space we need, for our work. you are both quiet for a moment, having circled back around to your purpose, your reason for being here at all. forest noises fill in the space between you; calling birds, the distant thrush of waves.

are you ready? florence asks. i can go get her, but you can take as long as you need. she’s not touching you, but her hands want to: they halfmove, fold and unfold. wanting for a shoulder, your face, your own hands to touch. a hesitancy you’re not sure of. 

yes, you say. 

she looks as if she wants to say something very much, but begins to turn away, just brushing your shoulder with the verymost tips of her fingers.
while still within distance she abruptly turns back and gathers you up, tightly. her hand, firm on your jaw, guides your face to look at her.

no matter how this goes i am very proud of you. a kiss on your left temple, a kiss on your right, and she’s gone, picking her way out of the clearing. 

you do not watch her walk away because you do not want to see the point when these trees become else, the vanishing point, that bridges between here and there. in your heart you would like these woods to continue on forever without ceasing, a green echoing that goes on and on. 

instead, you sit on one of the benches and wait. 

it is not long before florence walks back. an almost perfect echo of the night of the 27th: arms, blanket, body. the sunlight is behind her, slanting through the dense trees, throwing her silhouette into perfect relief. 

she sits down carefully near the far end of the bench, arranges them both. come around here to the other side, bucky, where there’s room for you. 

there’s room, but only enough. enough that it gives you only two choices, to sit or not. no edging away, no hiding. intimate, your leg against hers, your shoulders touching, you sit so close. 

florence holds the head of your younger self in her lap, body lying down the length of the bench. she sleeps, as you still do, curled tightly into herself, hands knotted under the blanket in the same way.
and the distance, the years, the long and twisted miles of anger and tears and fighting and grief, folds up between you. two fuses, inches apart.

you feel your panic stir in your chest, the wet overwhelming one, like a hole bored clear through flesh. you take a breath, and take another, and realize that you can smell cedar and nurse logs and florence and cloth and very faintly the salt of the sea but you cannot smell the hospital on her skin. 

florence begins to resume the small rituals of tending. tucking hair back, tracing lines with her thumb and forefinger, making the blankets neater. light continual contact. she glances at you, then back down to her lap. i worry about her being cold. i know this… doesn’t change anything, but i do. i worry. she reaches down and parts the side of the blankets, takes the unconscious hands out and looks at them. covers them up in her own. so cold. you’re not sure you have the right to the pain on her face, but it’s there, all the same. 

small hands that used to be yours.

slowly, you reach out and lay your hand over your younger self’s. gently. deliberately. and nothing happens. her hand is cold, and bony and bruised, the fingernails shredded, joined to an arm lax with exhaustion that goes deeper than sleep.

you wait and nothing happens. something should, something catastrophic, something cataclysmic. you keep your hand there, half-tensed. almost unable to move for anticipating a blow that doesn’t come.

florence leans against you right then, her eyes half-closed. warm, calm.

is she breathing? you blurt, panicked. everything has always ended before here, and you don’t know how to go on

florence sits up, half-surprised. yes of course, look. she lays her hand flat between four electrode stickers.

i don’t know what to do. 

her hand rises and falls.

you don’t need to do anything. just keep breathing. keep holding her hand. remember you’re here and not there. 

where’s her telemetry unit? you keep noticing details you couldn’t remember in a dizzying influx of information. this body you can only remember clearly as someone else’s. there’s lanugo beginning on her arms. 

florence looks at you patiently. there’s no risk in her being here with us. you know how this goes. 

you are scared but you can only feel its current tugging at you, not pulling you down. there is further to go still.

what can you remember about that day? florence asks.

i remember i thought i would be in and out in an hour or so. there was an advertisement for the clinic on the radio as we drove there. it wasn’t a surprise. i always knew where we were going.
the initial appointment took five hours. most of which was sitting in a cold sterile room alone waiting and losing track of time. i had never had to talk with a doctor one on one like that before. there was always someone else i could use as a distraction, a foil to bounce things off of and this time.. there wasn’t. i thought a lot of things but i didn’t ever think i would be going to the hospital that day. when doctor m. told me she apologized. and then…

and then? florence asks. 

and then i walked myself across the street into the hospital. and the programs took over from there. 
there’s a lot that was frustrating because i had lost control of being able to do things for myself, because of protocols and just because.. i couldn’t do them. like not being able to walk anymore. being unable to get out of bed, having to page someone to do absolutely everything for me. not being able to be alone, ever. not being allowed to have the bathroom door shut. the very thing that saves you be the one that traps you.

everything was like that. the telemetry unit being an effective tracking device, refeeding… everything was so grounded in there being a body, in keeping myself in that body that i had tried for months and months to escape, to turn into something else 

and i didn’t want to be there but i didn’t want to be dead either, not really. although at the time i thought about bandon with this perverse kind of angry jealous longing. 

and all those doctors and nurses and cnas and mas working so hard to keep me rooted in a body i didn’t want to be in anymore

there’s what feels like a dichotomy between being angry and being scared and i.. i think i always chose angry then, too. 

-you were angry at yourself then, too?

yeah. i guess i was. you feel like you’ve opened a box that used to hold something important, and found it empty. all this time. 

sometimes you need time, bucky.

it’s just been this cycle, going on and on. endlessly perpetuating self-hate. you’re staring out, into the clearing as you speak. years and years of it.

but you’ve gone through and you’ve seen there’s no way you could have avoided- what happened happened. trauma is like a circle, she’s not free until you are and you had to see these things to be able to let go of blaming her, of blaming yourself.

the ouroboros, you say.

well, that’s one way of putting it.

you both (all three) sit for a moment, silent. then florence speaks

i think our time here is almost up. i’ve got to walk her back. she looks at you, that kind of gold light in her eyes. is there anything else you want to do before-?

you look at the face surrounded in blankets, imagine running your hand over it like she does. some things are still too far out of reach.

no.

okay then. 

a reversal of the night of the 27th. you’re walking behind them both, into the fog. it changes color and scent and becomes denser and more regular. you reach a doorway full of light and florence nods at you, walks through. there’s still the imprint of a smaller hand in yours. 

you wait the long minutes in the busying fog until florence comes back and grabs you up.
she’s holding your head against her chest, rocking both of you back and forth.

i am so proud so proud of you. you’ve left her an opening. a way out!

i did. you mutter, unsure. i did. a pause. can we go somewhere else now?

-of course.