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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months

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Dirty Work 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: Outta left field.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The brick facade stares back at you. You have to keep from gaping in awe. You're not a sightseer, you're there to work. A job. Your first ever. A bit late, but better than never.

You stop at the gate and hike up your kit as you shove your hand in your pocket in a cramped search. You slide out the flip phone and pop the top, clicking through for the email. The cheap burner is all you could afford and you needed a cell to get any sort of employment. Even just to live, it seems.

You click on the agency's email. A concise list of instructions for your first day. Alone. Last week, you shadowed a woman named Florence as she took you through an east-side home, but this week, you're on your own and uptown. The property is much nicer than any you've been in before. The sort you gaze at longingly in passing. A true urban palace.

You follow the first point on the list, keying in the code awkwardly with spaced-out punches. The last beep triggers a buzz as the mechanism releases and you turn the haandle to let yourself through the iron gate. You close it, pushing it to make sure it catches. You look around at the greenery; expertly trimmed hedges and a stone bench, flowerbeds clustered artfully in all shades. A mini Versailles in the heart of the city. The owners must be very well-off.

You gulp as you follow the stonework of the winding path along the curved driveway. Your shoulder aches from the weight of your kit and your spine is still rigid from the tense bus ride. You approach the front door and stagger to an awkward halt as you check the screen again. In all caps; DO NOT USE THE FRONT DOOR. You peer up over the stone steps and give a nod. Of course the help should go through the back.

You circle around to the rear of the house, the scent of pollen and the freshly groomed hedges clouding around you. You find the door nestled beneath a net of ivy and key in the next code. The very modern security contrasts the antique veneer of the house. You step into the silence of the grand home and listen. You're not sure if you're alone. What do you do if you aren't? It might be awkward to wash someone's floor without an introduction.

You move to the next directive; cover shoes. You squint and suck your lower lip in. You see the small box on the corner table tucked beside the door. You stay on the mat as you pull on the plastic shoe covers. It makes sense. You don't want to track in another mess to clean.

Again, your breath flies away from you. Even just the back hallway is divine, or maybe you're just brutish. You're not very hard to impress with what you're used to. A job won't cure it, but it'll make it bearable.

The next point; gloves. Okay. At least it's straightforward. The owners must be very particular. Or germaphobic. You let your assumptions write a story as you advance into the house. The email directs you to a closet where you are permitted to hang your things and where a mop, broom, and vacuum await you amid other supplies too big for your bag. Next point…

You proceed inside, slowly. The instructions are written almost to guide your every step. You move down the hallway with duster, broom, vacuum, and finally the mop. You're sweating by the time you get to the first doorway. The kitchen. Despite your employ, the place is already near immaculate. The only sign of life is a single black mug beside the sink.

It's eerie as you cross the tile, investigating with your eyes, almost too afraid to touch. You're going to have to if you mean to do good work. You continue down the list, doing your best to be thorough. When you return to the hall you're caught in place by a thought. There are no family pictures. It adds to the emptiness of it all. There are portraits of famous landmarks and imitations of reknowned artworks, though you wouldn't be surprised if they were genuine. But no family.

Next point. A bathroom just diagonal from the kitchen, spacious with dark wood and shining gold. You leave it smelling with the sterile scent of the cleaner. Back in the hall, you pause to drink from the water bottle in your bag. You head back down the hall intent on your next task. An hour already.

Another large room; a dining room that opens into a sitting room with a large fireplace. It really is amazing. Your father won't believe how nice it is here. You don't have time to worry about convincing him as you dive into your work. It isn't difficult work but you want to do a good job. You get this knot in your stomach just think of your boss, Clara, telling you otherwise or going home with bad news.

You finish the sitting room and go back to get your water. You nearly finish it. You check the time again, then the list. You can refill before you continue. You go back to the kitchen and cross to the fridge, pressing your bottle to the lever beneath the filter. It'd be nice to have something like that at home. You listen the hum of the fridge as you fill your bottle.

"Ahem," the clearing of a throat startles you and you jump, splashing yourself with cold water as you spin to face a tall man. He stares at you imperiously from the doorway, his figure lithe as he holds his chin up in dissatisfaction. "And who said you could do that?"

"Um," you swallow and look at your water bottle, fingers numbed by the water, "sorry, sir, I ran out--"

"Clean up your mess and get back to work," his lilted accent slices into you.

"Sorry, sir--"

"Bullet number one, A," he says tersely.

You frown as you struggle to understand. You replace the cap on your bottle and fish in the pocket of your black pants. You take out the phone and check the email. 'Do not speak unless permitted.' Well, he spoke to you first. It's the only reason you said anything. You're not very chatty yourself.

You keep from repeating sorry again and dip your head down. You take the cloth tucked into your pocket and bend to sop up the water from the floor. You don't look at him as he looms and you exit the room, sidling past him in shame. Oh no, you hope he doesn't tell Clara.

You replace your bottle in your bag. You'll go without. You look at your phone again. You can do this. No more mistakes.

You march back down the hall and dare a glance into the kitchen as you pass. He's already gone. That must be Mr. Laufeyson, the owner noted in the job description. Is it just him? He doesn't seem very fond of others. Or just you. You're just a maid, after all.

🧹

Your father's apartment is in the south. The fence is crooked and missing slats and the grass is patchy and yellowed. The porch groans as you climb the steps and let yourself into his side of the duplex. Cigarette smoke greets you with a cough in your throat. You open the window he shut in your absence as the TV blares in the next room. He's on the couch, puffing tobacco into the air in gray swirls. The place is even grimmer after a day amid your client's spotless halls.

"Hey dad," you say as you stand just beside the couch, "how was your day?"

He grunts and offers nothing else. That's about what you get from him. The effort of just that noise sends him to hack and his wrist tangles in his oxygen tube as brings his hand up. He knocks ash from the end of his cigarette onto the floor.

"First day alone went well," you say as he settles, breathing loudly as he tries to steady his breaths. "Think I did pretty good."

"Oh, big whoop, got a job, at last," he sneers, "about time. What're you? Thirty-three?"

"Thirty," you correct him, but don't add that your birthday is coming up.

"Same difference," he croaks and sucks on the smoke until he's coughing once more.

You try not to let him defeat you. It's just the way he is. You brought home A's from school and he wondered why they weren't A+'s. And when you got accepted to college, he asked you who was gonna pay for it. And when you filled out an application at the drive-thru window, he asked you if you were going to be another deadbeat flipping burgers.

"What, they got you scrubbing floors?" He spits, "you don't do it for free or something?"

He looks around venomously. You do clean but you can't get the yellow stains out of the wall or the stench out of the carpet. You won't say so.

"Did you eat yet?"

"Can't be near the stove with this thing," he taps the top of the tank on the other side of the armrest. He's also not supposed to smoke near it. Or at all.

"I'll heat up the hamburger helper from last night."

"Fucking dog food," he barks.

You wince. You love your father but he's a very picky man. Things must be his way or no way at all.

"Might have a frozen pizza," you suggest.

"Cardboard," he mutters.

You stand, silent and helpless. There isn't much else left in the fridge.

"Could afford better if you'd got your ass up ten years ago," he buts out his smoke and just as quickly, opens the pack to slide out another.

"I tried..."

"Not hard enough, eh," He takes off the oxygen tube and leans away from the tank to light the next cigarette, "not hungry. All your talkin' spoiled my appetite."

You apologise and leave before you can annoy him further. You're not very hungry either. Just sore and tired. Your feet hurt from being on them all day and your eyelids droop lower with each blink. You climb the stairs and drag your feet into your bedroom and shut the door gently. Your father hates when you slam. You don't like it much yourself.

You fall into bed as the musty air clings in your nose. You close your eyes and roll onto your side. You sigh. You figure if you can handle your father, you can handle Mr. Laufeyson and his list.

🧹

Your next job is in the eastside. It's not as precise or overbearing. The instructions are standard; a list of the rooms that need cleaning and a tip left on the counter. The email says the family is out of town. How nice it must be to come home to a nice, clean house. You pad out the three-day week with two more home in the northwest suburbs. The money would be better if you could work a full week but so long on you're in your probation period, you only get part-time hours.

Your second week starts again in the north, outside the Laufeyson property. The codes are different but the list is the same. You begin your work diligently. This time, you ration your water, and pay special attention to each step. Once you're through this week, you get your first check. Dad should be happy about that.

As you get to the front room, a living room or what some might call den, you set first to dusting the ornaments on the high mantel. You find the more you do it, the work is almost soothing. It's simple and mindless. You admire the silver candlestick, careful not to loosen the tall candle placed in it.

"Shiny," the slither frightens you. You quickly replace the candlestick at the corner of the mantle and face that man; the presumed Mr. Laufeyson. "Somehow, I feel it wouldn't belong in wherever you call home."

You lower your eyes. Florence says most clients are friends but she warned you about these ones. Those who deride you and the work they don't want to do themselves.

"The previous one did think they were lovely," he muses as he struts forward, his long steps like a cat's, "too bad they were too big for her bag."

You flick your gaze back up and blanch. "Sir, I wouldn't--"

He tilts his head as his eyes flash dangerously. You snap your mouth shut and give an apologetic frown. You press a finger to your lips to say, I'll be quiet.

"She was chatty too. You girls always are."

You nod and listen. Your throat constricts as you wring the cloth in your hands. You think you might not be very forgiving if someone tried to steal from you either.

"But..." he looks at his watch, "you are quick."

The comment drips from his mouth as if it tastes bitter to him. It isn't quite praise, only a fact, but it isn't a reproach. He smirks and snickers.

"And you do look rather terrified. We're understood then."

You give another nod. You think you understand. You wouldn't think to steal but you can't blame him for putting down rules. You squint and your brow twitches as your ears tinge.

"Point one C," you whisper to yourself; 'Do not steal.'

He pauses as he goes to pivot on his heel. He lifts his chin and shifts as if he might look at you. He doesn't as he carries on to the door.

"You may refill your bottle once per shift," he pauses by the door, tapping the frame before he leaves you.

You stay stuck to the floor, wavering as you watch him go. He wasn't nice, but he didn't dismiss you either. You can stomach his disapproval if it means you still have work.

#loki #dar loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #maid au #dirty work #marvel #avengers #thor

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sillyromance · 2 months

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Hay I'm not having the best day

May I request some soft comfort vore with transformers prime breakdown please I can understand if not. :)

Good day, dear anonymous!

Of course! Here you go - and I hope it'll be better for you soon!

P.S: I wanted to finish this story today since you were feeling sad... So I didn't really had the time to check it properly. I really hope there are no bad mistakes - and that you'll forgive me if there are... Good luck and take care!

The way to sort out problems.

- ... And then I threw him over the wall.

- Primus!.. I almost regret I haven't seen all o' that. You should definitely take me with you next time.

Breakdown and Knockout were going down the corridor, chatting. That time the medic had to stay on board to complete a specific task, so his big blue friend went on a mission alone and spent outside all day. Catching their loud laughter shaking the ship, you smiled, but very soon your eyebrows frowned again, your head titling down. The carmin mech wasn't the only one who missed the bulky decepticon.

That day wasn't the greatest. Everything seemed sucks, and without your friend it was even worse since there was no one who could cheer you up with their clumsy jokes. Surprisingly, you had grown fond of Breakdown quite fast. The first time you saw him you thought you wouldn't get out alive, and now... You learnt he was the best pal anyone could ask for: caring, fun, ready to listen to you any moment. And unlike other decepticons, he was very tolerant to humans - as well as his mate Knockout. Those two protected you and made sure you had everything you needed. The medic was a bit annoying at times, especially while playing flirty, but it was bearable, moreover that your favourite decepticon was around too.

As you expected, soon your paths crossed. Breakdown waved his huge manipulator in a greeting gesture.

- Hello, Y/N. How is it going?

- Fine... - You smirked, rolling your eyes. - As always.

- Well, I wouldn't say that. - Knockout's faceplate grimaced. - At least not after watching you wonder around the decks like a ghost since the noon. Perhaps, you will throw some light on their behaviour, Breakdown. I have tried, but pharmacy seems to be helpless here!

- Shut up... - You scoffed, turning away. A one more thing that you hated about him was his disgusting habit to stick his nose in others ' businesses.

- Well, then I gotta go, Knockout, sorry. See you in the lab tomorrow!

- Sure thing, Breaky!

You trailed the skinny mech dancing away and vanishing behind the nearest wall. Bastard!

- So, what did happen?

The blue cybotronian's yellow optics were staring at you with confusion and concern; he bowed, offering you his hand. It didn't take long before you climbed on it.

- That's... Uh.. Just a bad day, you know.

- I see.

- You must be worn out. I think you should get a proper rest, not to...

- I'm not going to sleep or anything until my friend is OK. Got it? - His voice was soft and soothing, though it was possible to feel some serious notes rumbling deep inside. - Let's, head to our room. I think you might use some... Special treatment, don't you?

It would be hard not to blush.

- Well, I guess so...

Without further discussion, he put you on his shoulder and started going.

The lights went deem due to the late our. While still on the move, Breakdown told you about his adventures from the beginning, definitely trying to distract you from the bad thoughts occupying your mind. It was... Nice. Finally, your big teddy bear was here with you. His low, husky baritone appeared to be best treatment for your aching nerves to settle.

- Home, sweet home...

At privacy, at last.

Breakdown made his way straight to the berth. It was a pity to leave your cozy nest beside his neck, but a thought about the place even better where you would soon find yourself convinced you to keep your complaints unsaid. Sitting on his palm, between his thick fingers, you suddenly realised how small you actually were - it wasn't like you didn't know it before, but such situations still hit you hard. And so the more heartwarming it was for you to know that, being so gigantic, he didn't ever tried to cause you pain. And something was telling you he never would.

- Ready, Y/N?

- Yeah... - You got up and laid a quick smooch of gratitude at his red cheek. - Thank you, Breakdown.

- Don't mention it. - He smiled softly. - You would do the same being on my place.

After that his mouth opened before you, awaiting. Sighing, you ducked right into the warm, pulsing grey cavern. Now you could truly relax.

The glossa bent down to make it easier for you to get comfy inside the maw. Tingles of pleasure were wandering around your back as it was gifting you with careful, gentle licks. Dump air weighted your body with lazy drowsiness while sticky transparent saliva soaking in your clothes made you nice and slick. As it often happens before sleep, your brain unexpectedly came up with an idea that if your relatives could see you now, they would all instantly fell unconscious. And it was the first thought which finally made you giggle.

The muscles came to life, pushing you further, to the dark entrance of the pharynx. You laid limp as they affectionately hugged you, tugging you forward... Breakdown swallowed. What a nice feeling - to be dragged into a warm blanket of your friend's throat! His muscles could turn your bones into dust in no time. His dents could chop you into bloody mess back at the watering chamber above, but you was cared for, adored... loved. Every gentle contraction of the flexible metal muscles signalled about it. You was sliding down, down, down... Thumping sparkbeat was booming calmly somewhere nearby, white noise of engines was ringing in your ears...

You had been already at pure bliss as you arrived inside your friend's spacious fueltank.

- I hope the ride was good. - The mech's words reached you, distant, yet close like echo. - I'm going to recharge too. Don't hesitate to wake me if you want out.

- I think, it won't happen any time soon, big guy... - You mumbled, curling up in a ball and cuddling with glowing walls surrounding you. It was already extremely hard to not doze off, especially with those lulling, happy gurgles and groans burbling around. - Sleep tight.

- You too, Y/N...

It was the last thing you heard before falling into the peaceful world of dreams...

#soft vore #extreme cuddling #safe vore #transformers vore #willing prey #willing pred #transvoremers #tfp vore #vore breakdown #comfort vore

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thedeadthree · 1 year

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— OCS AND TRAGIC HORROR TROPES

TAGGED BY the darlings @kingsroad, @jackiesarch, @florbelles, @dihardys, @jackiesarch, @denerims, @shellibisshe, @chuckhansen, @jendoe, @leviiackrman, @aceghosts, @marivenah, @multiverse-of-themind and @yennas to take this loveliest uquiz for the dears! ty ty <3

TAGGING: @feystepped, @griffin-wood, @risingsh0t, @queennymeria, @rocketsummer, @pearlcscent, @malefiicarum, @celticwoman, @aartyom, @manghhos, @stormveils, @belorage, @adelaidedrubman, @confidentandgood, @arklay, @roofgeese, @shadowglens, @unholymilf, @leondaltons and you!

THE WEREWOLF

there's something inside a werewolf that's sharp, thorns and barbs coiling up in tight knots of vine even on their best days. halfway through a conversation, you'll forget your happiness and the pain comes back in a flash. you never meant to, but the sharpness has done harm on your behalf. it's defensive. it's leftover artillery from a battle you spent so long fighting that it still doesn't feel like it's truly over, does it? you want so badly to be soft. to take the hand that you are offered instead of baring your teeth. and it might be hard to believe, but you are soft. you're the softest one out there. it'll just take a while to untangle those vines enough to know that very little is often life-or-death, and not everything touches to hurt.

THE GHOST

it's an odd thing, to feel so far from grounded and yet trapped, tethered, unable to escape. there's more you have to do! so why can't you move? i'm sure you have an answer to that, at the very least in the back of your mind. people love to say that ghosts hold grudges or haunt for revenge but they always get it wrong; you're stuck because something or someone chained you down and left you there. you try and reach out to all those bright people who pass through your life, but it rarely feels like it does much more than knock a cup off the table, blow some papers into the air. i need you to trust me- they see it. they're listening. they'll keep looking for you and, eventually, they'll be able to see you too.

THAT WHICH CANNOT BE KNOWN

oh god. how did it come to this? to some extent, you've gone so far past your own idea of "human" that it must be kind of fun, right? maybe. i'm not sure. as an artefact of cosmic horror, you're wild and wacky and colourful and people are probably drawn to that, but you will never let them know you. the mystery intrigues for a while, but it'll wear everyone down. it'll wear you down, too. who are you? do you remember? are you so far gone that you can't go back? and maybe that's the most tragic thing of all- becoming so distorted in your identity, and for so long, that no matter how hard you want to return you can't ever seem to figure it out. but you've learned a vast amount up in the stars, and people will work hard to get to know you. it doesn't matter who you used to be. sometimes, you should just start from scratch: give yourself a name, a birthday. let someone celebrate these things with you.

THE VAMPIRE

it is the loneliest day of a vampire's life, the first time they look into a mirror and see their reflection missing. drinking blood sucks too, don't get me wrong, but as a vampire you had to learn to hide from the sunlight, from your family, all your friends, because you were unavoidably different now and you didn't know how to explain that to them in a way they would understand. you could get stranger's blood in bursts, but what is life when you can't know someone for longer than the night lasts? you left everything behind because it was easier than trying to tell them. i just hope you know you're not the only vampire out there, and that there exist people who will understand your situation without a word. they'll sit with you in the dark for as long as you'll need them to.

THE WITCH

people need to find blame wherever they can; it makes the bad things in their life feel just a touch more bearable. the witches are so often blamed for the curses others are under that no one even questions it anymore. you point to a supposed witch and everyone else prepares the stake, no matter their innocence. to be born and believed a witch is one of the worst curses of them all- you can have friends and family, but there's always a dread that someday, someone will point to you, and everyone you once trusted will throw you into the pyre. if you're here, reading this, you've probably been burned before. and i don't blame you for wanting to hide away, to really become the witch they all say you are, to curse them. but to be a witch is to brush your fingertips over the bark of a tree and watch it grow a touch stronger. keep that in mind.

THE MUMMY

here's the thing about mummies- why the hell is anyone opening up their tombs? you were resting. you were peaceful. but someone intruded, barged in and broke down your walls and stole all the parts of yourself that you cherished, and then blamed you for being angry. blamed you for chasing them down no matter how fast they ran and how many obstacles they put in your path. and you know what? they deserve your rage. they destroyed something sacred. they didn't give a shit, and they wouldn't ever have lamented their actions had it not been for you- the real hero- getting up and showing them that they don't have the right to destroy and pillage as they please. that is your home. that is your body. nothing they do can take that from you. if not for you, they probably would've kept breaking into tombs and disturbing restful lives without a second thought. you won't be repayed for your good, but i hope you know you are a saviour in your own right.

THE GHOST

#only if you want to! 🥀🍄#oc: calla targaryen #oc: iovanna dayne #oc: valaenya targaryen #oc: maekar targaryen #oc: una nathaira uller #oc: illyria ilmestys #oc: elaenaera targaryen #leg.ocs #leg.tagged #WELL HOW RUDE OF YOU UQUIZ TO CALL OUT IOVANNA LIKE THATT kjsankhjnxk gutted her in front of everyone etc etc!#'something chained you down and left you there' PROFOUND MEANING FOR VANNA #this was so lovely to do! rn. my scoliosis is being wiiiicked rn so alas i cant yell much of the lore of the clowns in the tags but AHH..!#this was the cutest! i died by how accurate they were omg? these were so good for the beloveds! ty ty so much dears <3 #but i would like to introduce baby beloved calla <3 my sun and moon dear girl! daughter of iovanna and totally NOT d*aemon shjanhjskn #the same as her older brother baelor who is also not at ALL the blood of d*aemon ajsnjskk #shes bonded to the dragon naahviintas the gilded queen <3 s*unfyre has competition in whos the worlds prettiest dragon janjkxjks hehe <3 #theres layers to this bloodline of vanna there is nuance etc etc and i cant wait to yell about it GAHH #unas answer thought WHEEEZE i was cackling when she got it...... even uquiz knows babe! it knows a witch when it sees it dear!#her vehemently denying that she is aware of any sorcery but the scene i have in mind for her bonding to the cannibal was a bl*ood ritual?#it was seen in the vision she had the ritual was asked of her by the cannibal she suspected (dragon dreams! fun!) and so she abided right?#aeggy the king and his witchy gf love that for u both! <3 #okay maybe i did lore essay here a bit sajnkjnxk ✨😵‍💫#AHH TY TY AGAIN im emotional ty ty so much omg..? and please if youve done this already and i tagged you please feel free to pass <3 #the fact that calla got werewolf knowing she ends up with a stark janskjnkdxj ICONIC <3 (her endgame is cr*egan babey!)

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navxry · 1 month

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🎟️

This is your ticket to go on a ramble of anything that’s on your mind or anything you want to go ahead and share! Lore, creations, thoughts, anything that’s interesting you lately.

Anon, I'm afraid you're giving me full rights to rant about the worst things in my head (/exag, it's not that bad I promise)

Anyways uh read more time!

Lowkey had thoughts of running a certain story in a different blog, or making a game for it. It's still in the works because I need to polish up a few things, make it make sense, etc., but it's still up there.

The reason why is actually pretty simple: I feel like people don't like to interact when it's not about the reader, so I decided that maybe I should make a game. It's going to have its own variation + my own indulgent version (that will NEVER see the light of day in my other blogs, fuck you), but I'm not sure if people would enjoy it. I know my friends would, but would someone that I don't know like that?

Speaking of which, I already have the blog made. 2, actually! One is for another purpose, which would be a love letter blog for a fandom. I missed writing IDV because I've left the game (it was becoming too much for my phone </3 sad time gamers), so I decided to try a love letter format for Yan IDV residents. I doubt I'll get traction, but it's a cute idea and self indulgent in a way, because I get to write my faves being in a variety of levels of unhinged.

I think I'm more or less hesitant on the first idea because it feels like the initial reception just... Didn't pan out so well haha. It feels like I'm trying to show my own personal stories to the wind, but the wind refuses to even acknowledge it's existence. With this method though, I can at least say that at least the people that like it will know where to look for it.

Again, it still needs polishing, it's not done and I sure as hell KNOW that it'll take months if I took the game route. However, I think it'll be worth it if I just push myself to try. It's the only thing I can feasibly do, after all.

To my friends who supported it and even to the people that followed the story in silence: thanks. You guys make it bearable for me to try this method. It sucks that it'll be something I (most likely) won't do on that blog and transferring it would be tough, but so is life atp. I'm probably gonna most likely cut it with plan B's ending (I knew my initial plan won't work orz), so uh. We'll see how it goes, yeah?

(also I am kinda glad I didn't get to 200 followers there ironically because MOST ARE FUCKING BOTS AND SOME ARE MINORS LIKE HELLO??? So unfortunately I have to block them en masse and tbh? I'm gonna update my rules for that. I don't want minors interacting there no sir.)

(yes I'm talking to a few of you that interacted there while knowing y'all are minors/ageless in your blogs. Don't think I don't see you.)

Anyways ty anon for giving me the ticket to rant, I needed that. Hopefully this didn't sound so depressing oops.

#'navina' deciphers... ⟡ 𓆪 #;; ill start on my va journeys (or readings lmao) soon #;; aka dming the people that rbed #;; though there MAY be a chance that i wont be able to depending on my schedule and if my sorry ass gets busy orz #;; hopefully not though but! we shall see

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