#21st birthday gifts for sister

[pianofever]

PersonalisedBee

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[bokkombap]

Round, around, a round again / Will you start where I end?

[enree9h]

TRICK OR TREAT | sjy

PAIRING : nerdstalker!Jake x afab!reader

SYNOPSIS : you're all out of treats and now Jake wants a trick out of you.

WARNINGS : short fic (and almost plotless), dubcon, mentions of stalking, (if that makes you uncomfortable, don't read), p in v, kissing, making out, unprotected s.ex, Jake is a total loser (plus a nerd) and he needs you bad.

MDNI

wc : 1.6k

a/n : freaktober fic?? Planning on writing one for the other hyung line members until Halloween

There came three knocks on his door. The pause between the second and the third one was something he was familiar with. Months of observation is what got him there. Months of observing you, the curve of your hips, the mole on your collarbone, the scar on your inner thigh. Too bad, he thought, you didn't even know who he was. 

So when he walks to his door and swings it open, the autumn breeze brings with it a waft of vanilla- your perfume, the one your sister gifted you for your 21st birthday, he recalls. 

He feels his fingers go cold on the door handle, all the heat getting redirected to his now hardening length. Jake’s dilated pupils were a clear indication of your effect on him. When you heave a sigh and lean against his door, your exhaustion clear as day, he takes his time to gawk at you. 

The fishnet stockings catch his eyes in an instant, he wonders if they were the same pair you'd thrifted from the corner store that one Tuesday afternoon, unaware of his eyes tracking your movements. But that train of thought is soon lost at the sight of your thighs plump against the black net. 

You greet him with a lousy ‘hey’ and Jake gets startled by your voice- its throaty and the rasp makes him want to pull out the photo he had of you on his camera and release all his pent up frustraton of the day. But why opt for the grainy pixelated image when he could clearly have you pinned right below him. 

He wanted to take it slow- gradually slipping into the crowd you surrounded yourself with, maybe going as far as blurting out an awkward introduction to catch your attention. But with you leaning on his door frame with the browns of your hair falling over a size too small black corset top of yours- he couldn't think straight. 

So when you step closer and tease him with a trick-or-treat question he whispers ‘trick’ like a question before his brain could catch up with the panicking of his heart. 

You laugh and tell him he had picked the right option because you were all out of candy and way too tired to hand out any more. But Jake was hyper focused on the way your eyes rolled back when you sighed at the end of that sentence and the way the scent of your raspberry lip gloss reached him. His body was reacting to the thrumming distance between the two of you. 

Jake invites you inside the next second, how could he not when you were clearly ready to crash? When he was moments away from engraving the sight of his fingers sprawled over your thighs in his mind. 

Walking inside you take notice of the area shrouded in black- lights out, windows shut close, silence so thick it felt lifeless and bleak. But maybe that's how life was as a twenty one year old, you thought, recalling the state of your own dorm room. 

Jake watches you. He watches you with the same gaze he'd watched you with for the past six months- it's dark and hollow. His eyes stay trained on you as you walk over to where his bed was. Your eyebrows crinkle and he wonders why but when you plop down on his bed with a light bounce and a shadowed smile, he doesn't let it bother him any further. 

You ask him about his major and when he responds saying its engineering your eyes widen for a split second. Jake takes a note of it and wonders if he was mistaking something for- admiration? 

He decides to test the water by moving to sit beside you. Instantly, whiffs of vanilla invade his system yet again. You lean backwards and fall onto the bed, the hair pooling around your head like a halo. Jake feels light headed and hot, he wants to run his fingers through the mop of your hair, and pull on it. Would it be just the way he’d imagined or more? 

The corset top fits you just right but Jake thinks otherwise. As you lay with your arms over your belly his eyes find your chest- the swell of your tits squeezed behind the laced up cloth drives him to a new high and without another thought his fingers inch closer until you feel the lightest brush of them against your thighs. 

Jake asks you about the whole ordeal of trick or treating and you reply- distracted, with a minute long answer of how Halloween, specifically trick or treating was a total waste of everybody’s time and energy. And how you were basically dragged and threatened by your best friend into doing it.

Focused on the rant bubbling out, you don't feel the cold touch of Jakes's fingers rubbing over your skin. 

On that particular night he was feeling a little more- rash and impulsive so he ran his hands over you until they disappeared under the dark of your skirt. A gasp falls out of your mouth and goosebumps start to dot your skin at the realization but to Jake that sounded like a feather light gasp of approval. 

When you go silent mid rant Jake is jerked out of his fantasies but his hands never leave your skin. He looks down at you, the glow from the streetlight leaves only half your face illuminated. 

You say his name in a hushed whisper, it is feeble and weak. He would have missed it if it weren't for him being so inwardly drawn to anything and everything that was you. He hums in response and traces the line of your underwear, his hands under your skirt leave you gasping. 

The room was clouded in darkness but knew he saw lust swirl in your dilating pupils and that was more than enough for him to lean in and grab your lips between his. 

But you don't kiss him back. He moves against you in a weird hurry and you let him. It's almost humiliating and Jake knows it. Breaking his failed kiss he draws back and stares you down until you see slivers of rage swim up to the surface of his clouded eyes. 

The next time he kisses you he doesn't go slow, he doesn't go easy. His lips are smashed against yours. All groans of disapproval from you go unheard.

Jake groans into your mouth when his knuckles graze your core and the cotton comes away wet. Without wasting a second he is slipping your legs out of it all while his tongue silences your whimpers. 

You go silent when his finger comes in contact with your clit, his thumb rubbing mind numbing circles on your throbbing bud leaves you arching your back, breathless for more. Jake relishes in the feeling, in the feel of your tits pressed flush against his chest. And it only leaves him dying for more. 

He recalls the state he'd been in for the past six months- pathetic and desperate, stroking himself to the blurry pictures of you he'd snapped in broad daylight. He recalls all the times he'd been a whimpering mess at the thought of your thighs wrapped around his head, his heat buried deep inside your pulsating hole. 

When you fall back down on the mattress it felt like he was losing you and Jake was not going to let you slip past when you'd literally and metaphorically come knocking on his door. 

His fingers are driven inside your wetness, not one but three at once and you are screaming into the autumn air, biting your hand, squirming under him.

He curses at himself for not having his phone nearby, oh how he would’ve given anything and everything to capture your flushed face and the squelching sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of you. 

When you utter a quick “I'm close” between gasps of pleasure, Jake pulls his fingers out and licks them clean. You watch him dwell in the taste of you on his tongue, it's almost as if he's savouring it. You are left slightly rattled nevertheless the image of him- the ruffled state of his hair and the sight of his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as his fingers left his mouth with a gentle ‘pop’- clean and wet. It left behind its imprint. 

Jake pulls down his zipper and frees himself with a groan. You want to stop him and make him look for a condom but it was too late. He was already inside you, stretching you around his girth, parting your thighs. 

He's thrusting into you with blind eros, the headboards creak but Jake is focused on the bulge in your lower belly. He loves the sight, the feel, the sounds of you crying his name out. His brain is foggy and blank, the only thought was that of you and your tits bouncing against the tight lining of the corset.

Jake wants to mark the date and maybe he would go around to do just that. 

His hips plunge into your trembling ones until they finally go still with a jerk. Jake glances down, his panting fogs the air and scoffs at the sight of his release dripping down your inner thigh and onto his bed. He really wanted to snap a picture of it- of your throbbing clit, of your skin flushed red, of you beneath him, gasping for air. 

He bends down to press a quick kiss against your lips and teases you by mentioning how you actually stuck with the “trick” part of trick or treating. And how you had never exactly run out of treats for him. 

Maybe Halloween wasn't such a waste of time after all, at least not for Jake. How could it have been, everything was planned after all.

[acewritesfics]

Beautiful | Jax Teller 

Pairing: Jax Teller x Winston!Reader 

Request: No. Find original here -

Synopsis: Jax takes his old lady out for the night.  

Warnings: Mentions of drugs, alcohol, swearing, talks of body parts, mentions of dressing and undressing. This was originally a Song-fic. H/C - Hair Color. E/C - Eye Color

Word Count: 2,186

Main Masterlist

Jax beams as he watches the woman he's madly in love with hurry around their bedroom, dressed in her black lace bra and panties set, that just so happens to be his favorite, oblivious to him standing there, focused on trying to decide what to wear. His eyes scan her body, stopping on her ass, admiring his third favorite part of her body. 

He never imagined falling in love with Y/N Winston, the younger sister of his best friend, but something changed when she left for college. When Y/N left Charming for college, she was just Opie's annoying little sister; but, when she returned four years later, it seemed as though she had completely changed. She was now a woman, not a girl. 

Y/N settles on a pair of skintight black jeans and a flowing deep crimson tank top. On the bed, she has her leather jacket that he gifted her for her 21st birthday, laying next to her jeans.  She eventually catches him standing there as she slides her legs into her jeans.  She pulls on her top as he enters the bedroom, a bit disappointed that his second favorite part of her body was now also hidden from him. 

After giving him a short kiss, she walks over to her dresser and gathers up her make up bag and hair brush. "I thought we were going to meet up at the clubhouse?" 

"Church got out a little early," he muttered, his eyes following her as she entered the ensuite connected to their bedroom. He observes her brushing her H/C hair as he leans against the door frame. 

When she put down her hairbrush, he closed the gap between coming up behind her so they're back to chest. He slides his arms around her waist, his fingertips caressing the flesh on her left hip where his crow was inked before resting his hands on her stomach and kissing the side of her head. "I figured I'd be a gentleman and come pick up my old lady." 

"You'll be driving the cage," she quips as she looks at him through the mirror.  

"I know," He smiles looking back at her, his baby blues meeting her E/C eyes. He takes a step back from her as she starts to apply her makeup. 

They got it confirmed last week that Y/N is pregnant again, after speculating that she was a few days before hand. Aside from not being able to ride bitch right now, they haven't told anyone about the pregnancy yet. Being just nine weeks along, they choose to hold off until the second trimester, when the risk of miscarriage is significantly lower. The first pregnancy ended in a miscarriage at 11 weeks, and it wasn't only them who were devastated by it. 

Despite the fact that they are quite certain their family aren't buying into the excuse, they used her being sober driver as an explanation for her abstinence from drinking and riding on the back of Jax's motorcycle. They noticed Gemma, Opie's, Piney's and even Clay's suspicious looks when she would deny a drink or avoid being on the of a motorcycle. Y/N could tell Gemma was the most suspicious and that she was picking up on more than just those two things. 

Once Y/N has finished applying her makeup, she exits the bathroom to retrieve her jacket and put it on, with Jax close behind. 

"How do I look?" She asks as she slowly spins around, flaunting her appearance. 

He closes the gap between them once again, encircling his arms around her waist and planting a scorching kiss to her lips. He smiles as she responds kissing him just as heated as he was.  Nobody else has ever made him feel the way he does when he kisses Y/N. He knows he had the same effect on her as she always left him out of breath. He knew this because of the small moment after their kiss when her eyes remained closed and her lips pouted. 

Before letting her go, he quickly kisses her and doesn't say anything as he leads her to the car, locking the front door on their way out of the house. 

"I never answered your question," he says as he opens the passenger door for her but blocks her from entering the vehicle. She looks at him puzzled. "You look fuckin' beautiful," he whispers as he kisses her lips again before helping her into the car before getting in himself and driving to the SAMCRO clubhouse. 

When Jax pulls into the lot, the music is already booming from the speakers, there is already a strong odor of weed and cigarettes in the air, and beer bottles and cigarette butts are scattered all over the ground. He exits the car as Y/N gets out and meets him at the front of the car. He smiles as she slips her smaller hand into his larger one and laces their fingers together. As they enter the clubhouse, he brings her hand to his lips and gently kisses the back of it. 

As soon as they are inside, surrounded by patches, friends of the clubs, old ladies, sweet butts and crow eaters, Jax let's go of her hand and placed his arm around her waist pulling her into his side. A few people stared and scoffed at them, he was unable to control the smirk that grew on his lips. The women envious of Y/N and the men who aren't members of the club wishing they were him. 

Jax orders drinks from the prospect behind the bar before noticing Tig and Chibs sitting nearby. He leans close to Y/N to talks to her without having to yell, "Go sit down with Tig and Chibs, and I'll bring the drinks over." 

She gives him a quick peck on the cheek and moves over to the table where his SAMCRO brothers are seated. He watches when both men stand up and hug her before she sits down. 

He catches a few men glancing in her direction with hungry eyes as he surveys the crowded room. As his gaze returns to her, he suppresses the temptation to pound their faces into the nearest surface. Jax is unsure of what he did to earn her love, but he is glad that he did. He couldn't picture his life without her. 

Jax has only ever been in one committed relationship before he got into one with Y/N. Because of Tara's decision to go medical school, his ex-girlfriend ended their relationship but not without trying to convince him to leave with her. He'd been crushed and drowned himself in weed, alcohol, and pussy when he wasn't working his way up in the club. 

All of it came to an end when Y/N returned from college. 

After she returned home, a lot of things changed for him. Y/N became the reason he stayed awake and alone in bed most nights, her face being the one he saw when he tried to take another girl back to his room. When she wasn't with him, he thought of her constantly, wondering what she was doing and if she was safe. He had to stop himself from calling her every chance that he got  He existed solely for her and the club. Even though the guys made fun of him for being whipped, he didn't know where he'd be without her. He couldn't picture his life without her. He didn't want to. 

Jax brings the drinks over to the table and sits in the empty chair next to Y/N's handing her bottle of water to her. She leans in close to him, kissing his cheek once again, and whispers "thank you" as he drapes an arm across the back of her chair. 

"Hey, where's my kiss?" Tig is heard asking. 

"Not here, but maybe if you ask her," Y/N chuckles, pointing to a brunette crow-eater who is gazing lustfully at the club's resident crazy while wearing next to nothing. "She might give you one." 

"You might be right." He smirks, looking in the direction that Y/N is pointing.  He gets out of his chair and moves over to the couch where the crow-eater is seated. 

After an hour and a few drinks, Jax glances at Y/N as Chibs walks away, finishing their discussion. He finds her looking back at him with a small smile and love in her eyes. Now that they are alone at the table, he smiles tenderly at her as everything around them fades, Y/N becoming his sole focus for now. He didn't want to admit it, but she had turned him into a love-sick idiot. 

"How are you feeling?" She asks, concern in her eyes as she takes in the faint bruise on the side of his head. Moving her hand from his leg, she reaches up and runs her fingers through his hair. This afternoon he'd been hit in the head by some thug the club had to deal with, earning him a nasty headache.  However, it vanished when he took a few painkillers before church. His headache was returning, and the loud music was not helping. 

"I feel wonderful," he says trying to ease her worry and kisses her to distract her knowing she'll see right through his bullshit. 

"You're an awful liar." 

"I know." He offers her a small smile. "My headache's back." 

"We don't have to stay. I'm beginning to feel a bit worn out, myself." 

"Let's go home," He stands and offers his hand to her, helping her stand up also. They say goodnight to the most of the club members before Y/N makes plans to meet Gemma for lunch the following day. As they exit the building and walk to her car, Jax hands Y/N the keys. 

"Take these and lay down." Y/N offers Jax a glass of water and some pain relief she'd snagged from the kitchen on her way to the bedroom. As soon as they walked through the front door, Jax made his way into their bedroom, stripped down to his boxers and climbed into bed while she double checked that everything was locked up and all the lights were off. He takes them as she instructed and leaves the half empty glass of water on the bedside table. 

He doesn't move from his upright position while he watches her undress till she is only wearing her bra and panties. 

His eyes follow her once more as she walks over to his dresser and picks out one of his SAMCRO shirts before entering the bathroom. A few minutes later, she returns wearing his shirt and with her face make-up free. He continues to observe her as she removes her bra, pulling it from the sleeve of his shirt and discarding it on the chair in the corner of their room. He moves to lay down as she climbs into bed, facing him. 

"How's your head?" She softly asks. 

"The pain is starting to fade." 

"That's good. 

"How are you feeling?" he questions, cupping her face and caressing her cheek with his thumb. 

"Amazing," she says as her eyelids close, relishing in the tenderness of his touch. "Though I was feeling a bit queasy earlier." 

He rolls onto his back to reach his bedside table and switches off the lamp. Y/N moves in closer and places her head on his chest. 

With his arm around her holding her close, he kisses the top of her head. "I know I never tell you I love you as much as I should, but I do love you." 

"I love you too," She smiles. His spoken 'I love you's' are rare but he didn't have to say it for her to know it's true. Every day, in the smallest things he does for her, he tells her he loves her.  

"I don't mean to turn into a huge sap but you're the most wonderful person I know," He kissed the top of her head again. "I don't know what I'd do without you or if anything happened to you." 

"I hope we never have to find out." 

"Me too." He sighs. A silence falls over them but is soon broken by Jax. "We should get married." 

Y/N sits up looking at him in the darkness, a look of shock plastered on her face. "You wanna get married?" 

"Yeah I do." he admits. They've never had the marriage talk until now. They hadn't had the baby talk before she got pregnant both times. "We have a good reason to. I love you, you love me and we're going to have a kid." His hand reached under the shirt she was wearing, his fingers brushing the skin of her belly.  

She smiles. "Okay, let's get married." 

Jax smiles back and pulls her down to him making her giggle. He runs a hand through her hair tucking a few strands behind her ear. "You really are wonderful." 

"Just kiss me already," she orders him. 

"Sure thing, Darling." he laughs and pulls her into a passionate and mind-blowing kiss that was bound to leave both of them breathless. 

[desultory-novice]

"Like Brother, Like Sister"

Gonna try for 1-2 short, last minute Apologies AU side comics before I drop The True Ending and declare this AU (mostly) finished.

This one (the "beginning" of the White-Haired Noir AU) was already semi-complete (I had originally intended to color it) so here you go!

Noir wasn’t the only one willing to stoop to criminal acts to save them. Alas, they are doomed to never leave the planet together…

-

This is basically how the Dark Matter Painter stuff comes about.

For a bit of clarity - while there wasn’t a full script for this - in the AU AU reality, Adeleine was the one responsible for “killing” the sibling’s mutual best friend, Raquelle (whose soul would go on to feed/host the future Dark Rimula) by over excitedly sharing the paintbrush’s magic with her and, in playing around with it, accidentally turned her into a (living) painting, a process she found she could not undo...

Her tormented attempts to do so anyway, pushing the paintbrush’s abilities to create/duplicate life, plus the innocent girl’s shame and desperation to hide her responsibility for taking the life of the girl who was a combined parent-sister-friend for her AND the closest person Noir had to a friend outside herself (with the gift HE got her) was too much for her, allowing Dark Matter to get a firm grasp in her.

She had just enough time to finish her picture perfect forgery pass for Noir (her own smeared into illegibility) before it consumed her.

...Noir's date of birth is March 21st, btw. (Being Dark Matter Swordsman's birthday and all)

-

[Apologies AU Masterpost]

-

...Man, between this comic, the last story, and the one coming up, it's "Not Very Fun to be Adeleine Week" on Desultory Novice. ^^;

[topsytervy]

Tradition - Leon Kennedy

synopsis: Leon decides to restart a tradition on your 21st birthday that your brother used to do

word count: 2,494

warnings: mentions of death, drinking, and drug use (the drug use mention is just in conversation, swearing (just in case because I can't remember), and spelling/grammar errors, i think that's it

~~~

Leons eyes scanned over the build a bear, trying to decide which one to grab. 

It started as a tradition with your brother. Your brother was 10 years older than you and when you were first born, your dad had taken him to the store to get you a toy. 

“Every baby needs a stuff animal, dad,” Andrew had said as he dragged your father through Toys R Us. 

“Okay, okay. Calm down buddy, she's not going to disappear.” Your father laughed as your brother carefully examined each animal carefully. 

He had settled on a wolf, claiming that it’s the perfect stuffed animal for a baby. 

Your dad didn’t really understand why he thought that, thinking that a cat or dog or even a unicorn would've been a bit better, but Andrew was firm in his decision. 

Your dad found out a few months later why Andrew had thought that when he went in to check on you one night when he heard you crying, seeing that your brother was holding you as he sat in the rocker, wolf in hand. 

“You’re okay, squirt. I'm here. Nothing's ever going to hurt you while I'm here. And if I'm not here, that’s why you have wolfy. Cause wolfy’s going to protect you from all the bad dreams and monsters under the bed and everything in between if I'm not able to.” 

After that, every year on your birthday, Andrew got you a stuffed animal and when you got too old for stuffed animals, well, he still got you one, just left it on your bed when you weren't there and gave you another gift that wasn’t a stuffed animal. 

Leon had met your brother in high school when he was a senior and Leon was a freshman. Andrew had walked past some juniors who were picking on him, and he stopped, shoving them away and telling them to fuck off, taking Leon under his wing for the rest of the year. 

You will never forget the first time you met Leon; he opened the passenger side door to your brother's car, climbing in and noticing the booster seat in the back. 

“We just gotta pick up my little sister then I can drop you off.”  

Leon nodded making himself comfortable and before he knew it, he was watching as little seven year old you run up to Andrew throwing his arms around you as he picked you up, swinging you around before setting you back down, taking your hand and leading you to the car as you talked about, what Leon assumed, your day. 

Ben opened the door for you, letting you climb in and buckled yourself up and that’s when you noticed the blonde sitting in the front seat, immediately going shy. 

“Y/n, this is Leon. Leon, this is y/n.” 

Leon smiled at you, giving a wave, “hi.” 

You sent a shy wave back before turning to Andrew. 

“He’s just coming over to hang out for a while, squirt. Play some video games.”  

You nodded before turning your attention to your lap as Andrew shut the door, climbing back into the driver's seat before turning up his music. 

You saw a lot more of Leon after that, greeting him with a hug every time he stepped in the door before dragging him towards your room to see whatever new thing you did with it or the new thing you just colored. 

You’d spend your days chilling on the couch as him and your brother played video games, reading a book or doing whatever. On occasion, Leon or Andrew would let you sit in their lap and hand you the controller, helping you play as the other let you shoot him or pass him in Mario kart but mostly you just watched, just wanting to be in the presence of your brother and his friend. 

And then the accident happened. 

You had called Andrew in tears, wanting to be picked up from the party you had snuck out to, and he dragged himself out of bed at 11 pm, grabbing his keys and heading out the door. 

“I told you not to go to that damn party. Those people are nothing but trouble,” he scolded you as you sniffled in the passenger seat. 

“I just wanted to break out of my shell,” you told him, wiping your hands across your cheeks to get rid of the tears. 

“That’s fine and all but can't you do it somewhere else. I know I saw at least three kids doing lines on that coffee table when I went in to grab you.”  

“I wasn’t doing them! All I did was have one drink! Besides your one to talk! The only good guy you hang out with is Leon!”  

“I never said I didn’t do anything stupid. I've made my mistakes and learned from them. I was hoping that you would've learned from my mistakes too,” he waited at a red light, turning towards you, “there's nothing wrong with going out from time to time but you don't go alone. Bad things happen all the time and people can lie.” The light turned green, and Andrew eased off the brake and onto the gas, “I'm just trying to keep you safe, squirt. You’re my little sister and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if anything happened to you.” 

Abd that was when the car came from his side, running the red light.  

You couldn’t even get the words out before the car made contact. 

You don’t remember it all that well, you remember your parents pleading, you remember Leon visiting you, and you remember when Leon was outside the door with your sobbing parents before he came in to tell you that Andrew wasn’t able to pull through.  

“I'm so sorry squirt. Andrew…” he took a breath, “he didn’t make it.” 

You never cried so hard in your life. 

Leon remembers that day like it was yesterday. He remembers your parents being so torn up and he offered to tell you the news, having been in the police academy and working for the government., he figured it would be easier for him to tell you. 

Sure, it would be hard cause he's known you for ages and Andrew was his best friend, but he could push through. 

 He never could've prepared himself for your cries though, how heartbreaking it was. 

Later that night, after you had fallen asleep, Leon looked at his messages with Andrew, a tear sliding down his cheek as he read one that was sent just a week ago. 

If something ever happens to me Leon, take care of squirt for me please. She needs someone by her side in this world who will protect her from the bad and push her towards the good. 

Leon looked up towards the ceiling, “Don’t worry, man. I'll keep her safe,” he whispered. 

And now here he was in build a bear at 28 years old, trying to find which bear to get you for your 21st birthday. 

“Daughter, niece…” Leon jumped at the worker who appeared next to him, “sorry, didn’t mean to frighten you.” She apologized, laughing slightly. 

“You’re fine. I just- it's for a friend. It's her birthday today and I thought maybe I’d get her one.” He gestured towards the animals, and she smiled. 

“Well, is there anything you know she would like in particular?”  

Leons mind raced as he tried to think of your favorite animal or character or something and then he saw the perfect one. “I think I do.”  

**

Leon let himself into your apartment with his spare ley, knowing you wouldn’t be home yet. He honestly hated where you loved.  

Two years ago, when you told him you had gotten your own place and needed help moving, he was excited for you, helping you pack up and load up a U-Haul and your car before he drove the truck to the address. 

“I know it's not the most ideal place for me to be but it's what I can afford at the moment, so I'll make do.” You shrugged as Leon took it in. 

 It was on the sketchier side of town, and he immediately could see every bad scenario in his head. “I wish you invited me to go apartment hunting with you,” he told you honestly as you unlocked the door. 

“You were busy, and I had the money saved up for this. I know it looks a little…” 

“Sketchy,” 

“Yeah, but I promise it's not that bad. There's been no break in or murders- “ 

“In case you forgot squirt I used to be an officer,” 

“Recently,” you added with a sheepish smile, before fully tuning to him, “I'll give you a spare key if that will make you feel better.”  

Leon sighed as he made his way towards your bedroom, grabbing a piece of paper and a pen from your kitchen as he did. He scribbled a note before placing it on your bed along with the build a bear box, before making his way out. 

He relocked the door behind him, giving a smile to one of the neighbors who was watching him.  

**

You walked up the steps to your apartment, exhausted and fumbling with your keys as you approached the door.  

“There was a man in your house,” your neighbor, Willie, piped up and you whipped your head to look at him.  

“I'm sorry?” 

“I saw a man come out of your house earlier today,” he repeated, “kind of big, dirty blond hair, wearing a leather jacket,”  

You let out a breath, “he's fine. That’s just Leon. I've known him since I was a kid.” You informed him. 

“That’s good. I was nervous for a minute that you had some peeping tom who snagged a key to your place somehow.” Willie smiled and you laughed. 

“Yeah, he likes to stop by sometimes. Check up on me. Surprised you never noticed him before.”  

Willie grin just widened, “I try to keep my nose out of everyone's business. That’s Jeff’s job to snoop.” 

You laughed at the mention of the man down the hall who always seemed to be wanting to know everything about everyone to tell everyone else. 

“Well thank you for looking out for me,” you said as you opened your door. 

“of course, miss. Just making sure everyone's safe.” 

You gave him one last smile and wave before heading inside, toeing off your shoes as you shut the door. 

“Alright, Lee. What on earth did you leave for me?” you mumbled, eyes scanning the living room. 

You moved frown the hallway towards your bedroom, peeking in to see a familiar looking box on your bed. 

Smiling you ran over, picking up the note. 

I know I can't be there for you all the time so I'm hoping this will help bring you some comfort for those sleepless nights that I know you have.    

Happy Birthday, Squirt. 

*I'll be picking you up at 6:30 for dinner and drinks so don’t spoil your appetite. * 

You set down the note and began carefully opening the box. You hadn’t gotten a stuffed animal in four years since Andrew’s death, and you were itching to see what Leon had decided on. 

You felt your throat close up when you got sight of the stuffed animal in the box, your eyes immediately watering as you reached in, pulling out the stuffed wolf gently.  

You stared at it for a few seconds before deciding to try and press the paw, not knowing if Leon put a sound in the wolf or not, a bit surprised when a sound came out. 

Not just any sound. 

Your brother's voice from the last voicemail you had from him. 

“Hey squirt, I know you’re at work and that’s why you didn’t answer but I just wanted to say,” the tears started to flow freely as you listened to your brother sing a tone-deaf version of happy birthday before speaking again, “anyway, after blessing your ears,” he laughed that laugh that always made you grin and continued, “happy birthday and be safe. I’ll catch you later. I love you.” and that was the end. 

You didn’t know how long you sat there on your bed, staring and crying over the wolf but you know it was long enough that you Leon had let himself in again, walking down your hallway and stopping at your door, knocking on the door frame. 

Your head snapped up and you launched yourself off the bed and into Leon’s body, wrapping your arms around his waist. 

“Thank you, Leon.” 

Leon’s arms found home around your shoulders as he hugged you tight, “Of course squirt,” he rested his chin on top of your head, “You know you always got me right?” 

“I know. Thank you for always being there Leon. Every high and low. You were there.” You sniffed. 

Leon’s heart clenched and he let a few tears slip out of his eyes. 

You two stayed like that for a few minutes before you let go, stepping away from him and wiping your tears. 

“God, I’m sorry. I’m a mess and I’m not even ready and- “  

“it’s fine,” he reassured you, wiping his own eyes, “your brother would be so proud of you, you know that.” 

You nodded and Leon smiled, “How about instead of us going out, I order us some food, go down to the gas station and pick us up some drinks, and we just stay in tonight?” 

“I like that idea. Ill grab us some blankets and pillows so we can camp out in the living room tonight.” 

“Sounds like a plan,” Leon turned to walk out of your room, but you spoke causing him to turn around. 

“I’m really glad Andrew stopped you from getting beat up that day, Leon.”  

“I would not have gotten beaten up. I could have easily taken those kids,” he answered, “but I’m really glad he did too, squirt.”  

Before he left to go pick up the drinks, he watched as you picked up the wolf he gave you and gently set it next to the wolf that sat on your bed that your brother had gotten you 21 years ago, “what are you going to name him?” 

“I think I’m going to call him Andrew.” You smiled, looking over at Leon, “and he’s going to sit right here next to wolfy since he was given to me by one of the three important guys in my life, just like wolfy was, and they’re going to be good friends.” 

Leon smiled at the two wolves on your bed before shifting his gaze back to you, “I think that’s a great name and a great place for him.” 

As Leon walked out of your bedroom and into the living room, he could’ve sworn he heard a thank you Leon, and not from you. 

But from your brother. 

~~~~

[astrid-blythe]

"A birthday gift for my little sister cousin on next month! #2. Approximately 6 hours in total."

Made on Saturday, September 21st, 2024.

[gnabnahc317cb97]

Hyunjin

Hyunjin and your No Good Terrible Very Bad Date ☁️🔥

What more could possibly go wrong is the wrong thing to say after a date from hell. You seek shelter from the rain and the comfort of your sweet friend Hyunjin when one disaster after another befalls you.

An Arrangement 💔☁️🔥

The original ending to An Alternative. When the preppy girl and the bad boy collide sparks fly until his need to be a hard ass with his friends overrides his mouth. Your best friend Chris is there to pick up the pieces and it seems after years of friendship there maybe more sparking between you or is there? With a little help from an unexpected ally Hyunjin refuses to let you go with out a fight.

The Set Up 💔☁️🔥

When the most popular boy on campus invites you on a date to a party with him you say yes but you're apprehensive, unsure as to why he would take a sudden interest in you. When it all seems to be just a vicious set up by a group of girls that are hell bent on making you miserable, you take off. Does Hyunjin really see something in you or are you just a pawn in a cruel game? A part of the 'Thick Reader Series'.

The Payoff 💔☁️🔥

The sequel to The Set Up. You're floating on cloud nine when you find out the sorority that lives to torment you has come under fire by Hyunjin's frat and the school. Of course the sisters blame you. Is what seemed to be a set up on your behalf actually karma and Pi's just desserts or did someone set this wheel in motion for you? A part of the 'Thick Reader Series'.

Finger Painting 🔥

Hyunjin asks you to help him with an art project. He needs a super special canvas... you.

Reading Romance ☁️🔥

While hanging out and reading with your best friend Hyunjin he catches a glimpse at what you're book is about and wants to know more.

Love Letters to Who 🔥☁️💔

Your 21st birthday you were gifted a mysterious journal. If you thought you were shocked when you saw a reply to your first entry from someone, you just about shit when you saw words appearing on the page out of nowhere, right in front of your eyes! Who was owner of those words? Who was H.H?

Dandelions ☁️

You and Hyunjin find a field of dandelions. Hyunjin sees a field of wishes.

Drunk Confessions pt 3 ☁️🔥

When your coworker Hyunjin walks you home, you invite him up for drinks. Things between you get heating up quickly, and it's not just the alcohol.

Please do not repost or translate any of my works. My blog and stories are NSFW and 18+ ONLY! Minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked!

[boldlyvoid]

Where There is Love, There is Life | Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Choice | for @elriel-month 2024

Summary: Elain trains, Azriel Gossips, and Lucien learns the truth.

Warnings: made up Daglan lore, mentions of HOFAS, history of bonds, Helion and Lucien talk

Word Count: 6k | Masterlist

Sitting in Helion’s personal library once again, there is a sheet of paper, an ink well and pen, and a stack of books almost as tall as Elain. And that’s just what Helion has deemed important for todays lesson. The walls are covered in books, well, 3 of them are. The fourth is dedicated to a chalkboard adorned with thoughts, theories and numbers she doesn’t yet understand. 

“Now that we’ve gone over astrology, did you happen to get all the birthdays of your inner circle?” Helion asks, pushing the pen and paper towards her. 

“I thought we were doing numerology today?” Elain asks, realizing she never brought the sheet of paper with the dates on it. 

“We are,” he smiles. Today’s one of the rare hot days in spring, so her eyes dart from his smile to his big muscled arm that he has on show. The shirt he’s wearing can barely be considered a shirt at this point; it just covers his nipples and stomach… but she’s not complaining. 

“Then why—

“Everyone has a life path number, which you get by adding up the numbers of one birth month and day,” he continues. “The easiest way to learn how to calculate the number is through repetition. So, start with your own and then your sisters; we can move on to the bat boys in a moment.” 

The term makes her smile. She straightens her back, grabs the pen, and starts to write. “My birthday is May 16th.” 

“It is?” He lights up. “Well, we’ll have to throw you a party, then!” 

“Oh, no, no, it’s okay,” she waves him off. “I might go home for the day.” 

He nods, “Or we could invite your court here? There is a beautiful plot of land my Pegasus frequents. It’s lush with flowers and fruit trees; I think it would be the perfect spot to celebrate you.” 

She blushes; it sounds magnificent. “If it’s not too much—

“It would never be too much,” he assures her. “Now, May is already a single number. You’ll have to add 1 and 6 together…” 

“So 5 plus 7,” she starts to write. “My number is 12.” 

“It can also be simplified down to 3,” he smiles. “Out of everyone I’ve ever met, you radiate 3 more than I’ve ever thought possible.” 

He pulls a book from the pile, flips through some pages and slides it in front of her. “See here; people with life path number 3 are creative spirits driven by their infinite imagination. Which is why the cauldron must’ve gifted you with sight. It knew you could see the wildest visions and still decode them.” 

She continues to read the pages, absorbing the knowledge— some of it does sound like her. Like not being able to pick a singular hobby but rather jumping back and forth between everything she enjoys. She would go crazy without baking, gardening and cross-stitching. An independent, free spirit, she’s not restrained by others' expectations of her. Yet, she also loves being around people. Having friends outside of her sisters for the first time has truly changed her life. She felt so lost without Nuala and Cerridwen; she misses them so much right now. She’ll have to ensure they come for her birthday and not lift a finger the whole day! They deserve a break.

“Anything sticking out?” Helion asks. 

She nods, “a few things… I’m definitely unable to stay organized. Ask Feyre; my greenhouse is a mess on a good day.” 

“Speaking of the High Lady, what is her birthday?” 

“December 21st,” she starts to write it down. “December is 12, so that becomes 3… the 21st also becomes 3, so her number is 6.” 

“Exactly,” Helion beams. “Were you this good in school, too?” 

“All 7 years that I was able to go,” she says with a sigh. “I learned what was important, my mother said that once I was married I’d only need to focus on keeping a house together. She said I’d never need advanced math.” 

Helion presses his lips together awkwardly, “Well, at least this math isn’t hard.” 

She simply flips the pages, finding the information on the meaning of 6… which is exactly how she would describe her sister. She starts to laugh at it; it’s way too accurate. 

“As a child and young adult, responsibility was always there on your 6 Life Path, but you may have rebelled against it,” she reads. “You will learn a lot about parenting in this life time. But you are also here to create, to learn that creativity has many forms, and is not confined only to creating a biological family.”

Helion smiles. “She did make a son as beautiful as her paintings.” 

“That she did,” Elain sighs, chest full of pride. 

The 6 Life Path teaches you that you are primarily accountable to yourself, that family members and relatives do not own each other, and that love thrives when it is able to flow freely in all directions.

She’s always loved her sisters and always will… however loving them became a lot easier when they weren’t all sharing a bed. Knowing Feyre is on the other side of her massive mansion of a home, knowing she could just walk to her when she needs her, that’s a blessing. Knowing Nesta is just a quick trip to the House of Wind, living her best life with people who love her, that’s all she’s ever wanted for Nesta. 

Being apart somehow brought them closer together. 

“Nesta is April 13th,” she says, starting to write once again. “4 and 4 is 8… she has an 8-pointed star on her back.”

Helion’s eyes widen, “like the lost sword Gwydion.” 

She nods, not allowing her face to change at all. It sure was still lost… it’s totally not in Nesta’s possession.

She turns back a page, finding it interesting that she and her sisters are so close in number and yet such polar opposites of each other. That’s life, though. 

“The path of Empowerment,” she reads, filled with pride, once more… it fades when she starts to read and it gets too real. 

The 8 Life Path signifies a lifetime of investing in yourself and overcoming judgments that stand between you and your strong ambitions. Modern numerology often diminishes 8’s meaning with an almost exclusive focus on material and financial matters. Yes, 8 is the number of power on the physical plain, but it is also the number of true understanding and balance, without which personal power is superficial and material gain is easily lost.

“I love her,” she whispers, trying not to cry. “She struggles in silence and lets it eat at her until that hunger needs to bite at someone else.” 

Helion nods along, “But it’s all about balance. While she may be in her head, thinking she deserves or doesn’t deserve certain aspects of her life… she’s powerful. Not too selfish, she’s able to use her hurt and her experiences to connect. She networks and organizes, and she’s convincing. I heard about her little dance with Eris last year. I saw how she captivated the high lords during the war and managed to change even Berons mind. The bad comes with the good, making her a perfect 8.”

Elain nods along, finding her smile once more. “She is… everything.” 

“Believe me, I know,” he teases. Still hitting on her no matter how long she’s been mated. “Now, do you remember the others?” 

“I believe so… they’re on my desk in my room,” she shares. 

“I’ll have someone bring them to us,” he assures, waving in a servant. 

She writes down Azriel’s. January 27th. An Aquarius, and after her lesson the other day, nothing fits better for him. He lives in his head, thinks outside the box, and has a deep sense of justice. He's an easygoing loner, and he’s an air sign. It’s no wonder he loves to fly. One of a kind with beautiful eyes, they say what they think with great eloquence… that’s her Az. 

His life path number, however, is 1. 

“Ah… of course,” Helion says as he reads over her shoulder. “One typically takes care of themselves, stand on their own two feet and always get what they want.” 

She smirks, blushing again. “He does.” 

Once again, on his page of the book, she reads everything… but it’s not right. “He’s not self-centred or insensitive?” 

“With you,” Helion reminds her. “At work, when he’s the spymaster, the shadowsinger… he has to put himself first; he has to not care because bringing feelings into an interrogation will backfire on him.” 

“I guess,” she continues to read. 

But because 1 is the first number, being at the top – being first – is your natural place. You will gain the maximum satisfaction from this energy when, instead of using it to compete, you use its pioneering vibrations to carve new roads in areas that interest you the most.

“He is the best at what he does,” she can agree with that. “Oh, and it says concentration is one of the splendid gifts a number 1 has. When he’s been given a command, he’s always so focused on getting the job done.” 

“No wonder you’re so happy,” Helion nudges her. 

She shoves him back. “Yes, and It says here: Practice the art of leadership by welcoming and encouraging your ‘following’, while confidently maintaining your position as originator and leader. Others soon realize that you will not be tricked into anything that goes against your grain or best interests.”

“That’s your man,” Helion agrees. Standing from his seat, he meets the servant at the door and takes her note. “The most powerful High Lord was born on the Eve of Samhain… when the veil between worlds is at its thinnest. When magic is at its height.” 

“So his number would be…. October is 10, so that’s a 1, and 31 becomes 4, so he’s a 5,” she says with glee. “He and Feyre are just a number apart.” 

“5s are an interesting breed,” Helion hesitates, sitting back down beside her, he takes a deep breath. “They’re intense, both emotionally and sexually. Their body, mind and emotions are equipped to easily adapt to change… However, they either flourish with the change or are overwhelmed by it. 5s are able to change their inner attitudes and outer appearances to suit different circumstances” 

“That’s my brother-in-law,” Elain laughs. 

The book states: 5 is an active and unpredictable path. It is so filled with sudden and unusual events and opportunities that you sometimes become confused by it or afraid of it. Once in a while, these 5s do let go, or the 5 current becomes so strong that they are swept away into some kind of drama, only to miss the excitement of it all because they believe they are simply out of control. The freedom of 5 starts with a burning desire to live life as fully, freely, and openly as possible and to experience variety, excitement and adventure. And, of course, these desires can only come from within. Refusing to let go of what is safe and familiar so that you can discover alternatives is a large part of what causes a mistake to be repeated. And most 5s do seem to repeat the same old mistakes, often without realizing it. Admitting to your mistakes can be a battle in itself. Accept that mistakes are inevitable in your life because that is how 5s learn and prosper.

“I’m going to need a scribe to copy this for him,” Elain teases. “He could learn a thing or two.” 

Helion smirks, crossing his arms as he sits back in his chair. “Have you ever been on the wrong end of one of his decisions?” 

“Just last week,” she shares. “He thought it was okay to tell Az to stay away from me so he could keep a good connection with Lucien and the Human Queen, Vassa. Not taking into account that fact that I may want say in my future.” 

Helion nods slowly, “Sounds like Rhysand.” 

She lets it roll off her shoulders, “I settled it. He’s learning, albeit slowly, but he’s learning how to deal with the Archeron sisters.” 

“How does Cassian deal with you all? Being a Cancer and all,” he pushes the paper towards her. 

“July 9th…” she reads aloud. “That would be 7 and 9, so 16 becomes 7.” 

“Perfectionists, prone to secrecy, but as they get older, that need to protect themselves goes away,” Helion explains. “Knowing Cassian as long as I have, he had a hard time trusting people to be as good as he was; he did work while with his legion because he knew that he would be the one to get shit done right.” 

“And now he’s accepted that the rest of us are there to help him and he’s not alone,” Elain smiles softly. “What else?” She asks as she flips in the book. 

“Deep thinker, a cleaver planner… he’s the orchestrator. It’s why he leads armies and he will go down in history as the best warrior since Enalius.” 

She finds a passage that is so Cassian, she sits up straighter as she reads it: Your intuition enables you to sense and feel your way through life. Positive results will follow when you learn to rely on the combined voice of your thoughts and feelings. While others sit perplexed by a problem, you can produce the right answer, instinctively, in one intuitive flash. And once you have the solution, your intuition will take you inward and backward to show you how you arrived at it.

Helion nods along. “Numerology is one of my favourite aspects of divination. Numbers are everywhere, you’ll start noticing them more and more now that you’ve learned this.” 

“How so?” 

“You’ll notice that you look at the clock at specific times every day, without real reason. You’ll notice things come in packs of 3 or 8 or 12. You might even have numbers in your dreams…. And in visions, speaking of which, have you had any since you’ve been here?” 

She shakes her head, “No, I haven’t had one in a few weeks. They only come to me when they want to.” 

He hums, “okay… Tomorrow, I wanted to do some hydromancy, but I think it’s time we look more into clairvoyance and clairaudience. Both are extrasensory perception; the mother or the cauldron or whatever you believe in either whisper the future into your ears or show you glimpses of the future.” 

“I have had both,” she assures. “During the war, I had no idea what was happening and while I kept seeing the firebird who ended up being Vassa, the ravens were first whispered to me. I kept hearing ‘the ravens are coming’ and it confused me so much.” 

Helion starts looking around at all his personal books, reading the titles, but he cannot find what he wants. “I’m going to have a book delivered to your room tonight,” he explains. “You don’t have to read it all. However, it will be a good introduction to what we will be discussing soon.” 

She nods, “are you sure we should have a large lesson tomorrow, given that Lucien is coming?” 

His eyes widen, as if he forgot that was happening. “What if we meet here at dawn? You can join me for my meditation to get in the zone for the day and I’ll have breakfast dropped off here so we can begin early.” 

She nods, “I would like that.” 

—

Azriel’s shadows are like a second skin to him after 500 years. He almost doesn’t notice when they come and go, not until they’re whispering secrets and warnings to him. It takes a while for him to realize that his shadows disappear around Elain. They can find her, they can follow her if he asks, yet when she’s close, they leave. He’s not sure if it’s for privacy or because they know he’s completely safe with her… out of everyone in the world, Elain is the only person he’s truly safe with. 

When he returns to the day court, his shadows simply say that she’s in the library and dissipate. 

He heads to the main library, the first of many in the day court, the closest to the palace. Inside, he can’t scent her over the smell of old books… yet there is a hint of Ash. His shadows come rushing back, worried for him after everything he’s been through in the last few years. He’s been hit with more ash arrows and faebane in the last 3 years than he has in his whole life, which is saying something. 

He follows the smell, a hand on the truth teller as he approaches an alcove. He knows the female sitting at the table, at least from what he can see of her over the stacks of books: Nuan, the Alchemist from the Dawn Court. He knew she’d be here; she had been here all week, researching the Ash family to see all that it could do to the Fae. 

He clears his throat, alerting her to his presence and making her jump in her seat slightly. “Oh, hello, Lord Azriel.” 

He grimaces, shaking his hands, “Please, it’s just Azriel.” 

“Azriel,” she settles with a smile. “Is there something I can help you with?” 

He shakes his head, “I was looking for Elain, I think I have the wrong library.” 

“Ah,” she smiles, having guessed that the high lady’s sister and the spymaster were together. “Well, since you’re here, I have a question.” 

He approaches her, standing beside her work table, “What can I do for you?” 

“I’ve come across a book on the Daglan, the history of the start of Prythian and old folklore,” she explains. “Do you know anything about how they were conquered?”

Az takes a deep breath and assesses if he should tell her. Rhys would be pissed… not as pissed as when Nesta gave Bryce the mask, but still pissed. If answers come from this, however, he might not stay mad for long. 

So Az takes a seat. 

“Where do I even start,” he can’t help but laugh. 

He started when Bryce arrives, explaining their trip to the prison and the history they uncovered. Theia and her daughters, the Daglan, the portals to other worlds… how they concurred worlds and were overthrown only twice and finally destroyed by the portal-jumping half-fae who stole his dagger. He explains how the Daglan corrupted the cauldron and created the monsters now locked in the prison in the night court…. And how the same portals they used to jump worlds brought in the beasts that hunt in The Middle. Beings like the kelpie, the weaver and whatever Amren was before the war. Even Koshcei. 

“Cauldron almighty…” she swears, jaw dropped as her eyes wander, thinking a mile a minute in her mind. “Do you know how they corrupted the cauldron?” 

He shakes his head, “not fully. The original 8 Asteri— that is the Daglan’s true name. They pooled their power together and imbued it into the cauldron… they made the dread trove as well as Gwydion and Truth Teller.”

“Did you learn how to fix it?” Nuan asks, begging for answers just as he did that day he learned all this. “Learn why they did it?”

“No, I did, however, allow one of my shadows to go with Bryce to Midgard. The Asteri, when they were here, there was a tithe to absorb a percentage of our power; in Midgard, they created a parasite to infest the water and stifle their magic until they came of age. The coming of age ceremony was called the drop, once they partook they gave a portion of their power to the Asteri and their powers were unlocked. They were not as powerful as they could be, but they were just enough to live a long, long life. Those who didn’t partake faded away into nothing with age, like a human would.”

“And Bryce defeated them?” 

He nods, “She almost died in the process… which is another way the daglan took power. The power they took in the drop was called first light, the power they take after death is called second light. Once they took it, they didn’t get to go to the forever resting place some believe is out there. They became nothing.” 

Nuan slumps in her seat. Rubbing her hand over her face. “This is so much bigger than a family of trees…” 

Az laughs, “believe me, it was a lot to take in when it was happening. Now, we’re left with the knowledge and no way to fix the cauldron. We don’t even know in what ways they corrupted it; what they changed.” 

“The cauldron holds water,” Nuan reminds him. “They might’ve gotten the idea for the parasite from what ever they did to the cauldron.” 

He hums, thinking about it. “Are you coming to dinner tonight in the great hall?” 

She nods, “why?”

“Elain might be able to tell you about what the water in the cauldron was like,” he explains. “Seeing as she was the first one dunked into it, and she was blessed by it…” 

“Unlike the other sister who stole from it,” Nuan knows. The whole of Prythian knew that the oldest Archeon sister was to be feared for what she did that day. They just don’t know she gave the power back.

“Would I be allowed to see the cauldron?” She asks. 

He takes a deep breath, thinking it over. “Rhys and Feyre will be here in a few days, they, and Helion, can discuss if it’s a safe option for you.” 

She nods, agreeing. “I appreciate the help today. I um… I figured out something, I think it’s something you and Lady Archeron would like to know.” 

“Go on,” he pulls in even closer, anxious to know what she’s uncovered in her days of research. 

“While Ash wood can kill us, the blooming leaves of the Ash tree can be used as a tea. The Daglan did awful, horrific experiments on the fae, all of which were recorded… ingesting the leaves doesn’t maim the drinker. Instead, it gifts them with dreams of their one true love. The Daglan put a stop to the tea the moment they found out what it could do, and now I’m guessing it’s because they corrupted the cauldron to change how bonds work. The dreams would show a true love match; the cauldron now wants powerful offspring because the Dagaln fed from them for so long.” 

It all hits Azriel like a brick wall. “So if I take the tea…” 

“You’ll know the truth,” Nuan smiles. “So will Lady Archeron.” 

—

Feyre and Rhys arrive with Lucien right at noon, greeted by Elain and Helion in the golden courtyard. Helion’s hand is on Elain’s back, and she glances at him, noticing he’s holding his breath while staring at his son. Taking in all his features, noticing all the parts that are himself and what parts are Lucien's mother…, his heart breaks when he sees the scar on his face, knowing there are more scars he keeps inside. 

“Welcome!” Elain takes over for him, breaking away from Helion to meet with him. “Lucien, it’s nice to see you.” 

Surprisingly, she opens her arms and brings him in for a hug. 

He’s a bit shocked, but accepts. Holding her close, smelling Azriel on her. He pulls back with concern on his face, “Did the shadowsinger fly you in?” 

She shakes her head, “he’s been staying here during my training, assuring I stay safe after what happened with the cauldron the last time I started looking for answers.”

It's not a lie, just not the whole truth, either. 

“In your bed?” He chuckles, “I was wondering when you’d finally get together.” 

“You wouldn’t be upset about it?” 

He shakes his head, “I don’t own you; you’re free to make your own choices. I’ve been alive for over 300 years; you haven’t. I’d like to see you make your own choices and mistakes and find happiness.” 

She pulls him in for another hug. " Oh, Lucien, thank you! I expected you to want to follow the cauldron's orders.”

Lucien soaks in the hug, eyes closed as he holds her. “This is the one time I’m not going to blindly follow someone's orders. I’ve learned my lesson.”  

“It’s also why we’re here,” Rhysand says from behind them. “We’ve learned quite a few things about the cauldron, things that you should be made aware of.” 

“The uh, the dining room is all set up for lunch if you’d care to join me in there for this meeting,” Helion finally speaks. “It’s lovely to have you here, Lucien.” 

He reaches out his hand for Helion, “Thank you for inviting me. I’ve always loved visiting the day court.” 

They all agreed it’s completely up to Helion when he tells Lucien; if he ever tells him. This meeting is about the information Nuan found in her research, how to find one's true love and what the Daglan did to mating bonds. 

They gather around the dining table and fill their plates with sandwiches, fruits, and vegetables with dips, cheeses and meats. Its a wonderful spread that his kitchen staff makes on the regular. Elain is going to have to start incorporating these into her own meal rotation at home. 

“What is it you wish to tell me,” Lucien asks between bites. 

Rhysand looks to Elain and then Helion, “Who would like to explain?” 

“I can,” Elain assures, putting down her sandwich and taking a sip of her bubbly wine first before continuing. “Last spring, we had an unexpected visitor in the Night Court. She jumped from her world to ours thanks to the Harp— the 4th forgotten item from the dread trove.”

Lucien's eyes widened. “Is world jumping real? I thought it was a myth?” 

Elain sighs, “It’s very real. You need specific items to do it the right way. However, Bryce was brought here to learn more about her heritage. She was the original Queen Theia’s long-lost ancestor… it turns out that Theia killed Fionn, took the trove and opened a portal to another world that the Daglan had overtaken after they were kicked from our world. There, Theia confirmed that the Daglan, now the Asteri, are just power-hungry monsters who feed off our power. When they were here, they used the cauldron to create deadly weapons, horrible monsters they could hunt for sport, and they corrupted the cauldron to ensure that mate bread more powerful beings they could feed off of.” 

“Holy shit,” Lucien can’t believe it. 

“Nuan, who fixed your eye,” Elain continues, waiting for Luciens mind to catch up, he nods. “She has been doing research for us. The wood of the ash tree is deadly for us, however the Ash tree is a cousin of the olive tree…” 

She picks up an olive with her fork and eats it, “how can one thing kill us and the other be so delicious?” 

“That is a fascinating question,” Feyre says under her breath. 

“Nuan discovered that the Daglan discovered a tea that would allow for the taker to dream of their one true love and those who were able to could then Scry to find them,” she continues with a large smile. “Before the Daglan corrupted the bonds, all mates were assigned together for the purpose of true and happy love. They outlawed the tea because they didn’t want true love bonds anymore, they only wanted powerful offspring.” 

“Are you saying we aren’t a true love bond?” Lucien clues in, shoulders slumping. “I mean, I knew it wasn’t a strong love, I just didn’t expect it to not be true love.” 

Elain shakes her head, feeling sorry for having to break the news to him, “no, the Daglan would collect a tithe from us, taking 10% of our power that we willingly gave to them each year. They wanted a way to still take 10%, they just wanted a stronger 10% so they corrupted the cauldron to make mates who would produce powerful offspring that would satiate them.” 

“Like my parents and Tamlin’s,” Rhysand adds. “They did not love each other; they have just been born through the generations to continue to make powerful children, even after the Daglan left.” 

“How do we fix it?” Lucien asks. 

“We’re still working on that,” Helion jumps in. “Elain is still learning all that she can do with her power so we can attain more answers.”

“So far, I’ve learned basic divination, meditation and relaxation, tarot, astrology, and my favourite has been numerology,” she beams at him. “When is your birthday?” 

“Um, October 3rd,” he shares. “My mother tried to have all of us in the autumn.”

Helion stares at his plate, moving around his side salad and not saying anything. 

“So that would make you a life path number 4,” Elain explains. “Life path number 4’s spend most of their life looking for their true identity. You find accomplishment through hard work. You have great self-discipline. 4 teaches the value of determination, effort, simplicity, and dependability.”

He nods along, slowly taking it all in. “That… that sounds right. What would someone born on January 1st be?”

“A 2,” Elain answers without missing a beat, making Helion smile. 

“She is the best student I’ve ever had,” he compliments, staring right at Feyre. “I don’t want to give her back.” 

“I’ll come visit you,” Elain assures him. 

“What does 2 mean?” Lucien wonders, something like urgency on his tone.

“Um,” she looks to Helion for a bit of support. He nods his head slightly, reminding her that she’s got this. “the energy of 2 does not seek to control but to achieve balance. Those born on the 2 Life Path have the potential to lead the way for humanity through their refined powers of persuasion, their ability to inspire on an emotional level, and most importantly, their desire to bring equality and peace to this planet.”

Lucien blushes slightly, looking down at his plate. “She is going to change the world.” 

“Who?” Feyre asks, sitting up straighter. Happy for her friend.

“Vassa,” Lucien beams. “Don’t tell her, but I’m— I think I’m falling in love with her.” 

Elain places her hand on her heart, “This is wonderful news, Lucien!” 

“Thank you. I’m excited to take this tea now, to see if my true love match is her… even if it isn’t, even if it was Jesminda, I still want to be with Vassa.” 

“We’re still looking into her curse,” Helion assures him. “I’ll do anything I can to help you get to keep her.” 

“Thank you, Helion,” Lucien smiles. 

They look so similar it blows Elain’s mind. How does he not see it? It should be like looking in a mirror for him. 

“The teas will be delivered to our rooms tonight,” Elain assures. “We are all taking it. Some has even been sent back to Nesta and Cassian to check. Morrigan and Amren are taking it as well.” 

“What does this mean for you two?” Lucien asks Feyre and Rhys. 

They look at each other and smile. Rhys is quick to hold her hand above the table, “we know the truth. This love we have between us in unbreakable.” 

“I personally believe that the reason why mating has become so hard. People were shocked to find out that all 3 of us were mated so soon after becoming fae. It’s unheard of for a whole family to find a mate.” Feyre adds. “The Cauldron picked up to help it. I think the cauldron misses when it was dedicated to giving out love and life to these lands.” 

“So we bring it back,” Helion announces, holding up his glass. “No matter what it takes, we bring true love back to Prythian.” 

Everyone raises their glasses in response, dedicated to the task at hand. 

—

That night she sits in bed beside Azriel, a mug of steaming tea in both of their hands. “Are you sure?” She asks. 

“I want to know… even if it’s not you; even if I’m meant for no one, I want to know and love you anyway,” Azriel assures. 

“And if we do dream of each other?” 

Azriel’s eyes soften; he’s more beautiful than ever before. “Then we’ll know why we’ve wanted one another so badly.” 

“Do you think this tea will make us tired or just aid in our dreams when we do fall asleep?” She asks. 

A knowing smirk grows on his face, “Why?” 

She takes another sip and places her almost empty cup on her night table; Azriel follows her lead and does the same. She quickly straddles his hips, hands on his shoulders, “because I would like to remind you just how badly I’ve wanted you all this time.” 

—

Elain and Azriel are the last to arrive at the breakfast table the nest morning. Hand in hand, matching smiles plastered to their faces. 

They dreamt of each other last night. 

Feyre is sitting in Rhys’ lap, being hand-fed cantaloupe while Lucien laughs. Helion shakes his head with a smile. "Well, I take it you had good dreams?” the golden High Lord asks.

Elain nods, “We had the same dream… us and our daughter playing in the grass behind our home on the Sidra.” 

Feyre places a hand to her heart, “the same girl you’ve seen before?” 

“You’ve seen her before?” Azriel can’t believe it. 

Elain nods, “We adopt her from Illyria, seeing as I can’t have babies for us.” 

Azriel kisses her head, “we’ll create the family we deserve.” 

They take a seat side by side, across from Lucien, “So, what did you dream of?” 

“Fire,” Lucien explains, smile building. “Blinding, bright fire that took over all my senses.” 

“Your firebird,” Feyre swoons. 

He nods, overjoyed with love in his eyes, “My firebird… Helion, who did you see?” 

He takes a deep breath, thinking it over. “I saw my mate… Seraphina.” 

“That’s my… mother’s—“ Lucien blinks in understanding. “What?” 

Helion simply nods. “I met her a year before she was betrothed to Beron. We met again during the great war, and… we had a love affair that lasted over a hundred years. Beron never knew, not until the end, when she became pregnant.” 

Lucien's mechanical eye closes in on Helion, studying him. “You’re… my father?” 

Helion nods. “I didn’t know. Not until last week.” 

“Does my— does Beron know?” 

Helion shrugs, “I’m not certain. However, his level of cruelty to you, from what I’ve heard, could be explained by knowing you’re not his blood.” 

“Then where does—

“Your mother was sold to your father to ensure that the fire in her veins passed on to all his children. He wanted the strongest brood and would do anything to get it.” 

“Why didn’t you do anything about it? Why didn’t you challenge him?” Lucien begs, “You know he hurts her, and you do nothing?” 

“What do you do?” Helion challenges him right back. “Beron is not a man I would like to mess with unless absolutely necessary. Your mother asked me not to intervene. She asked me to let nature take its course, and she said when the time was right when he died, she could come back to me.” 

Lucien just shakes his head, “I wish he would die tomorrow.” 

“We all do,” Rhys murmurs, reminding the men that there are others in the room, still. 

Lucien calms, shaking his head as it all settles around him. “So I’m… I’m heir to the day court?” 

Helion nods, “you are… I’ve heard your fire is bright, almost white. That you can winnow and you run like the wind. I wonder if there’s more light to you, if when you become truly happy... if you’ll glow like myself and Feyre do.” 

“I’ve…. I’ve glowed,” Lucien admits. “I thought it was… I’m not sure what it was.” 

Clearly lying, he doesn’t seem comfortable enough to share. 

“How about we leave you two,” Elain announces, standing with her plate now filled with food. “My chambers have a sitting room; we can move there. Let them bond.” 

“Fantastic idea,” feyre is quick to her feet, feeling just as awkward as everyone else. “I’d love to hear more about your dreams.” 

@greenleaf777 @lostvillainess

General Taglist 

@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtle @katsukis1wife @buckleyhans @mrs-ssa-hotch @ssavanessa22

[angelicgaming1007]

Not my usual content but

One of my best friends, my sister, my chosen family. Did the most touching thing for me. My birthday is coming up next month dec 21st and she sent me my gift early. This amazingly sweet crazy woman /lh got me a neil cameo.

I have been very open in here about my struggles with my mental health. I've been a huge advocate for asexuality across platforms for sa/da survivors, for people from rough homes and toxic friendships and families. And this is why I've always been open so no one else feels alone.

The cameo, was that for me. Made me feel less alone less like I'm fighting an uphill battle. No it did not fix the issues in my life. But it made me feel loved something i have a hard time feeling even if it's said to me. I've been crying on and off the past 3 hours since she sent it.

There's just something about in character as astarion, being called by your chosen name and told that you are loved. To be called sweetly by pet names and told you aren't broken for needing help.

I was secretly in therapy online for a year after a particularly bad ex friendship. One of my worst abusers. I felt so..ashamed to be in it. I might be going back into it if i can. A friend of mine is offering and has set me up with a few appointments with her in jan and feb, if things go well.

So i just kind of needed that reminder. I hope this can be a reminder to you all aswell, getting help admitting you need help is a kind of strength not weakness and you all are loved too. I know it might be hard to believe in the moment but you do matter.

Neil is such a sweet compassionate man with the biggest heart for accepting cameos of a personal nature like that. And I'm forever grateful. Not just to him but to my friend for doing something so amazingly big. And i will never forget this.

All my anxiety has just melted away in this moment and for once i feel hopeful about my birthday and the future. Because i know i have friends who care by my side like her.

[ithinkyouhealedmyheart]

Ghostwriter CH 18

Unbetad Unedited Unhinged || AO3 Wattpad

Character(s): Kendall Knight, James Diamond, Carlos Garcia, Logan Mitchell, Gustavo Rocque, Kelly Wainwright, Mrs. Knight, Katie Knight, Veronica Clark oc, James Clark oc

Pairing(s): Kendall Knight/Veronica Clark, James Diamond & Kendall Knight & Carlos Garcia & Logan Mitchell, James Diamond & Veronica Clark

a/n: Happy Birthday Ronnie!!! My sweet, traumatized girl

The air that morning felt different. Thursday, November 21st, was a typical day on the calendar, not circled or marked with a red pen. But, for some reason, Kendall slept in. On work days, he rarely slept in. He didn’t know why he slept in, but his elbow smacked against the wall, causing him to jolt awake. In a mess of limbs he jumped around the surprisingly vacant bedroom, grabbing clothes at random off the floor. Hopping into his jeans, he had one arm through a sleeve and the other halfway through. Frazzled and mostly half-dressed, Kendall yanked the door open to find his mother serving breakfast to James, Carlos, Logan, and his sister. There was a high-pitched ringing in his ears as if he were flatlined at the hospital. 

“Morning, honey.” Mrs. Knight greeted him, and she put waffles on the empty plate. 

“Why aren’t you guys at work?” Kendall sat down and tucked his chair against the table. “I thought Gustavo got angry when we were late?” 

“Kelly made him give us the day off,” Carlos said with a mouthful of waffles. 

“Why?” Kendall turned to his mom. 

“She said it was her birthday gift for Ronnie when she stopped by earlier.”  Mrs. Knight sat at the head of the table. “What are you boys planning for her?” 

“It’s her birthday!” Kendall choked on the orange juice. 

“What?” Logan and Carlos dropped their forks on their plates. 

James looked like the only one who knew it was Ronnie’s birthday. Katie rolled her eyes. She had a feeling the three of them were going to start freaking out because they weren’t told it was her birthday and they couldn’t not give her a birthday present. Luckily, she wouldn’t have to worry about gift-giving because she and her mother would be making something for Ronnie, which meant she could avoid stupid teenage boys since she’d be in the apartment. Mrs. Knight was a bit confused. She knew the boys hung out with Ronnie often, and it seemed strange that her birthday surprised them. The mother thought her son and his friends would have at least known about this. Mrs. Knight’s smile faltered for just a second. 

Kendall was already trying to formulate a plan, but setting up a birthday party for Ronnie would be different from anyone else's. He didn’t know her as well as he thought, not even enough to get her a proper birthday gift. Considering he wasn’t warned, he didn’t want to half-ass it and get her a card. She’d probably end up hating him, but how could she if he didn’t even know? Okay, maybe he would hate himself because he always believed he was a great gift-giver. Also, Ronnie is his friend and doesn’t deserve something he picked out at the last minute that has nothing to do with any of her interests. He was typically the first to finish at the breakfast table, but his thoughts slowed him down. James completed his breakfast first, followed by Logan and Carlos, who scrambled out of their seats in a hurry. The brunette stayed with Kendall when Katie changed in the bathroom and Mrs. Knight went to change in her room. With his fork, the blonde poked at the last waffle and stared at it like he had laser eyes. He was mentally cataloging all kinds of ideas for a surprise party. He was sure that Lucy and Camille would be over the moon to throw a party for their friend, and he could even try to get Mercedes on board once he figured out how to contact her. 

“So, what are you planning?” James took a piece of bacon from his plate and chewed on it. 

“Trying to figure that out,” 

“Well, you should figure that out soon.” James shrugged. 

“I’d figure that out sooner if you could help me.” 

“You’re the guy that comes up with all these plans.” 

“James.” 

“Okay, okay. Do you really want to get Ronnie a meaningful gift?” 

“Yeah?” 

“How much do you know about her?” James asked, draping his arm over the back of the chair. 

“Her favorite color is yellow?” 

“Get her sunflowers!” 

“I’m not getting her flowers. That would be weird because she already has a boyfriend.” 

“What? You asked for my help, and I gave you an idea,” 

“It’s a bad idea.” 

“Okay? It’s not like you’re coming up with anything better,” James scoffed. 

“What are you getting, Ronnie?” Kendall raised a brow. He either called James on his bluff or caught him lying, but regardless, he was skeptical the brunette got her anything. 

“That… Is a secret.” James smiled sheepishly. Kendall shook his head with a laugh. 

“You didn’t get her anything, did you?” 

“No. I ordered it, and it hasn’t arrived.” 

“How did you know about her birthday?” 

“She and her dad talked about it last week when I went to dye her hair.” James shrugged. “I ordered her a songbook since it looked like she was running out of space in her notebook.”

“Oh.” Kendall’s face fell. There goes that idea, but it was too obvious. 

Anyone who knew she was a songwriter would try to get her a new songbook. He needed something with a deeper meaning. But why did this matter so much? On James’ birthdays, he gets his beauty products; on Logan’s, he gives him an advanced calculator; for Carlos, he buys a corn dog maker. Perhaps it was because he had been friends with them since middle school. He had known them for so long, and of course, he was able to give them a proper gift. This told him that he must get to know Ronnie instead of denouncing her as an unreasonable girl who wanted nothing to do with him. 

James sat at the breakfast table when Kendall washed the dishes, and he moved to the couch when the blonde went to change in his room. He looked around his room now that he was fully awake. At the front of his mind, the first thing he thought about was that Ronnie always wore that yellow sweatshirt. It had to be the only one she had if she wore it 24/7 in the heat. He had all kinds of sweatshirts that he had taken with him from Minnesota; they were in his suitcase under his bed because they took up too much space in the dresser, not because he had too many clothes, but once sweatshirts were folded, they were way too bulky. 

He pulled out his suitcase and set it on the bed. Because Los Angeles was so sunny and warm, he didn’t have much use for his sweatshirts. Of course, if Big Time Rush ever went on tour, that would be a different story. It’s non-negotiable for them to make a show in Minnesota. If their songwriter tagged along, he could show Ronnie around and take her to the ice skating rink– Wait. That’s a damn good idea. Assuming she didn’t know how to ice skate, Kendall could take it upon himself to teach her how. Hopefully, it’s not something she hates. He wouldn't know what to do if she didn’t like ice skating or hockey. At the top of the neatly folded pile was a cornflower blue hoodie. Gingerly, he picked it up and unfolded it. Blue was his favorite color, and he didn’t have an emotional connection to this sweatshirt. Oddly enough, this felt less weird than giving her a bouquet of sunflowers like James suggested. For some reason, it felt less intimate than providing her flowers. That was something a boyfriend did for their girlfriend, and he knew well enough that he wasn’t Ronnie’s boyfriend. 

James wasn’t in the apartment when Kendall exited his room. The sweatshirt in his hands felt heavier than it should. He didn’t know why he checked to see if the coast was clear. But, for some reason, he didn’t want to get caught. The blonde sneaked out of the apartment, closing the door carefully to avoid making any noise. 

“What are you doing?” 

Kendall jumped and spun around. Lucy stood there with a hand on her hip. She quirked a brow and tilted her head. 

“What do you mean? What am I doing? I’m not doing anything.” Kendall laughed awkwardly and put his sweatshirt behind his back. Lucy was unimpressed and very skeptical. 

“You’re up to something, aren’t you?” 

“No!” Kendall paused and cleared his throat. “No, no. I’m not up to anything. No schemes or plans.” 

“What are you hiding?” Lucy tried to peek around him, but he took a step back. 

“Hiding? Nothing– I’m not hiding anything.” 

“Bullshit,” Lucy took a step closer. While he was frazzled and most likely trying to come up with an explanation, she peeked around his back and held a hand over her mouth. She tried not to laugh. 

“It’s a sweatshirt. Why are you so nervous about a sweatshirt?” There was a tinge of amusement in her eyes. 

“I’m not nervous.” Kendall frowned. “It’s a present for Ronnie.” 

“You’re giving Ronnie a sweatshirt.” Her brows shot up. “You? What’s going on between the two of you?” She stepped closer, and he stepped back nervously. 

“It’s her birthday, and I figured she only has one sweatshirt–” 

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.” Lucy interrupted. “But, if it’s for her birthday, I won’t pry.” She shrugged. “Don’t you need a card with cheesy messages?” 

“Right, yeah! I was on my way to get one!” Kendall turned on his heel and started walking down the hall. But Lucy couldn’t be shaken off easily. 

“You do know that Curt is her boyfriend, right?” 

“Yeah, why?” Kendall tensed. He didn’t need to be reminded of that every five minutes. 

“Thought I should remind you,” she shrugged. “It’s kind of shitty to get her a card the day of her birthday.” 

“Did you know when her birthday was?” 

“No.” 

“Then you don’t get to talk.” 

Lucy opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She shoved her hands in her pockets and frowned. Kendall pressed the call button for the elevator. They waited in silence. The doors opened, and Ronnie stood in the elevator. She was almost as surprised as they were. 

“Kendall, Lucy!” Ronnie’s face lit up. “I was on my way to Rocque Records. I woke up a bit too late.” 

Kendall hid the sweatshirt behind his back and tentatively stepped into the elevator. Lucy did her best to help him hide it. Ronnie was, in a way, glowing; she looked, albeit happier than usual. Her vibrant green hair was pulled back in a fishtail braid. Instead of her usual sweatshirt, she wore a baggy turtleneck patterned with butterflies and bumble bees. Her jeans were distressed at the knees, and her cuffs were rolled at the ankles and decorated with stars in a black Sharpie. Her mustard yellow Converse were slightly dirty and creased, but it made them look worn in like they had been cherished for years. Kendall was taken aback. It wasn’t that she never cared about her appearance, but sometimes he thought she would roll out of bed and consider that good enough. He wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. It was almost like she was different, but he could tell something was hidden behind that smile. The corners of her mouth quivered in the slightest. 

“Ah, about work…” Kendall finally snapped out of it when they got to the lobby. “Gustavo gave us the day off!” 

“Oh.” For a split second, Ronnie’s expression changed. Her smile snapped back like rubber, and she shook her head with a laugh. “I don’t think they’ll mind if I stop by, right? Gustavo needs to give me some pointers about one of my songs.” Her notebook was tucked under her arm. 

“Right…” Kendall nodded slowly. Maybe he was imagining things. There was no way she couldn’t be happy on her birthday. Opening his mouth to say something, she disappeared out the door before he could wish her a happy birthday. 

With Lucy’s help, Kendall found the perfect card to get the songwriter from the convenience store down the block. He didn’t expect to see Cat’s Crew again since Gustavo liked to keep them separate from Big Time Rush, but it was nice to see them around L.A. It looked like the three girls had a fourth member with them. She wore a cropped leather jacket, and her dark, curly hair was pulled up. Seeing them again reminded Kendall that they had to record another song with Cat’s Crew. The first was received well, and the second might even be better. He used the self-checkout machine and even paid for Lucy’s birthday card even though she didn’t want him to. 

Across the street, Ronnie stepped into a coffee shop on the corner. Since the guys weren’t going to Rocque Records, she decided to walk from the Palm Woods. Los Angeles was such a scenic city it only made sense that she wanted to walk. But, it was a pretty lousy idea considering her birthday “curse” had plagued her since kindergarten. Anything could happen. A car could run her over. She could roll her ankle, break her leg, or lose her notebook because she accidentally left her bag at Rocque Records. Anything could happen. The bell above the door jingled as she pushed it open. The smell of pumpkin spice and ground coffee beans hit her like a tidal wave. The small tables with chairs were relatively vacant except for the booths by the back wall. A barista at the counter with long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail was tapping her nails against the counter. She was lost in thought. 

Ronnie’s eyes trailed over to the big menu on the wall. Various options made her brain stop in its tracks. The high-pitched whirring of the coffee machines made her jump. She leaned against the counter and cringed. It was unsurprisingly sticky, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t expected it. The barista looked tired, but she forced a customer service smile. Her name tag read A. Torres. The muffled noise from the outside world spooked the songwriter. Although it was louder outside, it was jarring how much sound was muffled by the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. In a panic, she ordered a mocha, and instead of pulling out her debit card, she pulled out the Rocque Records credit card. She didn’t know about this mistake until she got the receipt. If Gustavo and Kelly were at the recording studio, she could talk it over with them, and hopefully, they wouldn’t crucify her. The coffee was five dollars, but it was better to be cautious than reckless, especially considering it was the company’s money and not hers. She wouldn’t complain if they took the five dollars out of her paycheck. She hastily pulled cash from her wallet and stuck it in the tip jar. The barista thanked her with apprehension, and Ronnie moved to the end of the counter to wait for her coffee. She wasn’t a big coffee drinker because it tasted bitter and joyless nine times out of ten, but she needed as much caffeine as possible to make it through the day. 

While she waited, she flipped through her notebook. She was running out of space, and many songs went unfinished. Invisible wasn’t yet finished only because she needed to know what the guys would sound like singing it. Typically, Gustavo handled splitting up the lyrics for the boyband, but she wanted to split it up for them this time. At first, she tried to mimic how they sounded since she wasn’t too keen on letting them sing it yet. Only trying to imitate them when they’re singing made it all the more complicated. But throwing herself into her work was the best way to distract herself from her birthday and her birthday “curse.” 

The so-called curse started when she was in kindergarten. She was so excited to celebrate her birthday then. Before lunch, she got sick, and her mother had to drive her home. She spent the entire day in bed with a stomach bug and could not enjoy her birthday cake. It sat in the fridge untouched for three days until she could finally partake in it. Then, in second grade, she sprained her ankle while trying to play kickball with the other kids. In fourth grade, she got her braces; in fifth, she had to get stitches on her leg. The list of misfortune went on and on. The curse mellowed out a couple of years ago, but she was cautious and observant. The last thing she needed was to break her arm or accidentally hurt someone. It was more like she didn’t want to hurt anyone. She could handle it if she got hurt. Her dad might not. 

“Hi, Dave!” she waved to the security guard behind the reception desk. 

“Vee,” the old black man waved back. He was nursing coffee in a styrofoam cup. “Happy birthday!” The songwriter stopped, her hands clenched around the edges of her notebook, the pointy corners digging into her skin. 

It’s started. She thought to herself. All it took was an acknowledgment of her birthday. Sometimes, she could trick herself into forgetting her birthday, and then she could get through most of the day without something terrible happening. It worked in Freshman year. She could only hope it would work this year. She hesitated when the elevator came down. The cables could snap, and she could plummet to her death. 

“Are you okay?” the security guard asked. 

“Fine– Fine!” Ronnie smiled over her shoulder and stepped into the small metal room. She continuously pressed the button to close the doors. 

The moving part of the mechanism echoed in her ears the same way her heartbeat did. The edge of her vision pulsated as the blood moved through her veins. Okay, don’t freak out. Ronnie reassured herself as she took steady, deep breaths. You’ll be safe inside Rocque Records. Nothing will happen. She half-heartedly believed it. With the addition of the four teenage boys in Big Time Rush, her life was suddenly chaotic. She didn’t think much would happen initially. When she first got to Los Angeles, she expected the guys would not want anything to do with her. They would only talk at work but otherwise would be strangers. She hadn’t expected four boys to befriend her and include her in all shenanigans. Part of her couldn’t wait to see how Callie and Addison would react. 

BTR was so viscerally different from her friends in L.A., which made their interactions enjoyable. Of course, Addison loved Big Time Rush, so she would probably fangirl on them. If her friends ever decided to visit, they could meet her boyfriend and her other friends. Addison and Mercedes, Lucy and Callie would get along. Camille was excellent, but she lived for the drama and the action. Addison and Callie did not like drama, or well, they didn’t like drama unless it was theirs. If she had stayed in Vermont, this would have been the first birthday she celebrated with them, but life had a strange way of pushing her in different directions. Her friends shoved her face in the cake on her last birthday as a joke, but Ronnie wasn’t laughing when the party ended. She hid in her room with headphones, playing Insane Clowne Posse on her computer at total volume. The loud music grounded her. She left her room when her dad came home with the cake she actually wanted since her grandmother vehemently despised Italian rum cakes. She shared the cake with him in the kitchen, and they talked about comic books.  

Throughout his childhood, her father collected comic books. He often reminisced that they went for nickels when he was younger. Her father also liked telling her that his comic books would go to her if anything happened to him because the collection was expensive. Of course, he had always planned to sell them in his old age, but he would give them to her if he never got around to selling them. Ronnie looked forward to when he would pass them down to her. It was a hobby they shared, and she cherished comic book collecting. She specifically loved Detective Comics and a few different Batman runs. But she never shared her love for comic books with anyone else because someone at her high school would have made fun of her. 

The door to recording studio B creaked open, alerting Gustavo and Kelly. They were confused. They didn’t expect anyone to be there because they had given the five of them the day off. Ronnie opened the door wider and waved at them. Her half-empty coffee was in one hand. 

“Ronnie!” Kelly stood up and quickly tried to cover what they were working on. “What are you doing here? We gave you the day off,” 

“It’s Thursday.” Ronnie furrowed her brows. “Typically, when you give us a day off, it’ll be a Friday. Also, I left my bag here.” 

“Yes, but you shouldn’t be here. It’s your birthday!” Kelly grinned from ear to ear. “Don’t you have anything planned with the guys?” 

“No. They don’t know it’s my birthday. I like to keep it under wraps– Wait…” Ronnie paused. She looked between Gustavo and Kelly. “How do either of you know it’s my birthday? “How did the security guard know it’s my birthday?” 

“Your dad told us,” Gustavo said nonchalantly. “Now, enjoy your present and get outta here!” He shooed her with his hands. 

“My dad?” Ronnie’s shoulders slumped. “Of course…” She mumbled. “But, wait, I’m not leaving. I walked here so I could avoid my birthday.” 

“Seriously?” Gustavo raised a brow. “What kid wants to avoid their birthday?” 

“Me.” The songwriter shrugged. 

“You.” Kelly shot the record producer a look. 

“I figured I would work on some of my incomplete songs,” 

“Yeah, yeah. That’s fine. Go to studio A.” Gustavo waved her off and turned to what he and Kelly were working on. He wasn’t going to throw her out of the building. 

Ronnie didn’t wonder about what they were working on. She could only assume it was a surprise to the band. She grabbed her bag off the sofa by the back wall and walked across the hall to recording studio A. Thankfully, it was empty. For some reason, she was half expecting the guys to be waiting for her in the dark and would jump out of their hiding spots to surprise her. Kendall had been acting weird when she saw him in the elevator, but it could be entirely unrelated to it being her birthday. She hoped it was unrelated. She sat in the roller chair by the recording equipment and put her notebook on a music stand. She flipped to Invisible and stared at the lyrics. 

“When the lights go down in the city,” she sang softly under her breath. She tapped a pen against her chin. The bridge felt like something they would sing together or perhaps layered like an echo. 

“There needs to be something between those verses,” she scribbled the pen against the paper. “You’ll be right there shining bright.” She tried to mimic the pattern of the first verse but decided to change the flow because variation made it sound better. 

Once again, it was creepy that Kendall Knight was watching Ronnie from a crack in the door. Or, he wasn’t watching her. She didn’t close the door fully, and he wanted to ensure she was alone in the recording studio. The songwriter wasn’t that much shorter than him, but she managed to walk faster than him even when she stopped in a coffee shop. He could smell the coffee wafting through the air. He never knew she liked coffee since she rarely brought drinks to the studio except for water. He hesitated, unsure if he should make his presence known. Would it ruin the peaceful atmosphere? 

Ronnie shrieked when Kendall opened the door. Her instinct was to cover her notebook like a teenager covers their laptop because their parents barged into their room. The blonde wrapped the sweater and signed the card before he visited Rocque Records. The wrapping paper was patterned with multicolored letters that spelled HAPPY BIRTHDAY in caps. Ronnie froze. She stared at the gift in his hands. Her face was void of any expression. She didn’t know what to say or what she should do. When it came to gifts, she was almost always stunned, but the person who gave the gift always wanted a reaction, and as much as she could fake a reaction, she couldn’t fight the lack of words in her brain. It was as if she flatlined. 

Kendall panicked when she didn’t say anything. She was staring at him, and he was scared he had done something wrong. Lately, he’s been doing everything wrong. He didn’t want her to be mad at him after finally reaching their weird truce. He moved back away because it was beginning to get awkward, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to stick around if she started saying mean things to him. 

“W– Wait–” 

She stared down at the gift in her hands. The words died in her throat, and she felt like she didn’t know what to say. Her thumbs gingerly brushed over the wrapping paper that crinkled. Cold and smooth, but the glitter on a few letters was scratchy. He didn’t put the sweatshirt in a box, so it was malleable in her hands. 

“I don’t– I’m sorry— you– This…” Anything she tried to say died out as quickly as it was vocalized. 

Kendall relaxed. He was put at ease because she was speechless instead of quietly stewing angrily. He sat across from her in the second roller chair. While she stared down at the gift in awe, he took this opportunity to steal a look at her notebook. His friends wondered what she wrote because she was so secretive, but Ronnie snatched her notebook off the music stand before he could even look at the words. She tucked it against her chest. She could feel her heart hammering out of her ribcage and was scared that Kendall could hear how erratically it was beating. Her hands shook as she carefully tore through the wrapping paper. The notebook fell, but she couldn’t grab it. A yellowing piece of paper slipped from her laptop, and Kendall picked it up carefully. The handwriting was dainty cursive, not anything that matched Ronnie’s messily scrawled homework. He furrowed his brows. 

The title at the top of the page: Homesick

Under it followed: by Annette Clark

Kendall picked up her notebook and stuck the page behind the front cover. He knew that was something he shouldn’t have seen. He put her notebook on the music stand and smiled when he saw her trying to keep the wrapping paper intact. 

“I have more at home, you don’t have–” 

Ronnie ripped the paper without a second thought and paused. It was a blue sweatshirt. She furrowed her brows and looked at Kendall oddly for a second. Why did he get her a sweatshirt? Was it his sweatshirt? She blinked twice and lifted it from the wrapping paper by the shoulders. If she put it on now, it would be baggy on her. There was a ghost of a smile on her face. Was smiling the proper reaction? Should she show her teeth? Should she give him a tight-lipped smile? 

“You like it.” Kendall chuckled. “I can see that twinkle in your eye,” 

Ronnie’s eyes widened, and the tips of her ears flushed pink. Was he that observant? Did her eyes give that much away? Was she not micromanaging her reactions enough? Say something. Say something. Say something. Say– 

“Thank you,” the words didn’t fit in her mouth properly, and she felt like she was chewing her words. She did want to thank him because this was a nice gesture. But was thanking him enough? 

“Are you okay?” 

“I– I’m caught off guard…” she trailed off her sentence, her knuckles curling around the sweatshirt's soft fabric. Why couldn’t she just be normal? She’d seen so many people get gifts, and their reactions were natural. Why was this so forced? 

“Ronnie?” 

“I’m fine.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her shoulders heaved. The good thing was that Kendall wasn’t judging her. Maybe he didn’t mind the silence. Perhaps he wanted to give her the space to gather her thoughts. 

A heart was a heavy burden to bear, and yet it felt as though it was thousands of pounds. It beat heavily in her chest, and she could feel the way her skin clenched around the red muscle. Realistically, it was safely tucked away in her chest, but it was as if someone had cut it in half and displayed it for everyone to see. The way it swelled and pulsated as if it were being dissected like a frog in a science classroom. She got up from the chair. Her body was buzzing restlessly. She gingerly draped the sweatshirt over her bag and looked at the card sitting next to her notebook on the music stand. The card was blue with a sunflower on the cover. She reached out and grabbed it, but the card sang to her when she opened it. Startled, she quickly closed it and gave Kendall a weird look. 

“Logan helped me figure out how to replace the audio in the card,” Kendall cracked a smile again. “Trust me, I think you’ll love it.” 

She opened the card again, and it was audio from the first song she helped Gustavo on, Paralyzed. The writing on the card was generic and meaningful but not sentimental. Kendall signed his name in big, swoopy letters, much like how James liked to practice singing his name on his homework. Ronnie laughed. 

“This is awesome! Thank you,” 

“Of course, you’re my friend.” Kendall scratched the back of his neck and smiled sheepishly. The word friend felt so weird, but he didn’t mind it. That was all they ever were and ever will be, probably. “So, what were you working on?” Kendall switched the conversation quickly. He didn’t want to dwell on something like the status of their relationship for too long because it wasn’t like he could change it, even if he wanted to. 

“Oh, a song for Big Time Rush.” The gears in her mind switched, but she felt rattled to the core that he hand-delivered her birthday present. 

“Can I help?” 

A metaphorical lightbulb went off in her head. 

“Actually, yeah!” Her eyes lit up. She grabbed her notebook and flipped to the page in her notebook. “I’ve been trying to figure out who should get which lines.” She thrust her notebook in his hands. 

“Oh, okay– “ Kendall looked down at the words. ”Wait, this is the song James was asking about.” 

“I originally wrote it for myself, but I think it would be nice to give it to you guys since I’m the songwriter for Big Time Rush now, and I no longer write for myself but the group.” 

“I think you should write for yourself regardless.” 

“Yeah, but most of my songs will go to the band.” 

“Not all of them, not if you hide them from Gustavo.” Kendall chuckled. 

“Well, yeah… I should have thought about that.” Ronnie tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Let’s get started on this song!” Kendall clapped his hands together and stood up. She handed Kendall her notebook. 

“For now, we should just work on vocals. Then Gustavo can tweak the song however he likes.” 

“Alrighty then, you’re the boss.” Kendall snapped finger guns at her as he walked into the recording booth. 

Ronnie flipped switches and ensured everything was plugged in before she gave him the go-ahead to start singing. Kendall had to admit that he really liked the bee and butterfly-patterned turtleneck she was wearing. He enjoyed seeing her without her sweatshirt, but he couldn’t understand why she didn’t like wearing long-sleeves. Considering Los Angeles could get terribly warm, it was a bit weird, but he wasn’t going to ask about it unless she wanted to tell him. He couldn’t help but think of her like a cat. He was sure she would be an orange cat if she were a cat. 

The two of them stayed in the recording studio for a couple of hours. Between recording Kendall’s vocals and playing around with different lyrics, they also goofed around whenever they needed to take a break. At some point, Gustavo had to kick them out, or Kelly made him kick them out because it was Ronnie’s birthday, and she shouldn’t be cooped up in Rocque Records. The talent scout was vocal about how the teenagers should be teenagers instead of dedicating the last of their childhood to a nine-to-five job. Kendall and Ronnie stood shoulder to shoulder outside the building. It wasn’t awkward, but they didn’t know what to do. 

Then, a lightbulb went off in Kendall’s head. 

“Have you gone ice skating in Vermont?” 

“What? No,” Ronnie adjusted the strap of her drawstring bag on her shoulder. The sweatshirt and card were tucked inside. “I worked at an ice skating rink but never went skating.” Ronnie tucked her hands under her armpits because her fingers were oddly cold. “My mom taught me to roller skate, so I assume it’s the same.” 

“Sort of?” Kendall shrugged. “Come on, I’ll teach you.” 

“What?” Ronnie’s hand dropped to her sides, and her face turned red when he grabbed her hand and tugged her along. 

In the back of her mind, she was yelling at herself. She should have been spending her birthday with Curt instead of Kendall, but he hadn’t texted her all day. Of course, Curt didn’t know it was her birthday because her father only met him briefly. She felt terrible for not telling him but didn’t want him to make it a big deal. It was weird that Kendall was making such a big deal about it. She was seventeen now, but that didn’t mean she needed special treatment. At the same time, she had no idea what Curt would have done. It was sweet that Kendall did this much despite knowing her for a month. Maybe Curt would have been overtly romantic and showered her with unnecessary affection. She was never too keen about PDA. 

The ice rink wasn’t far from Rocque Records, so they could walk there. Kendall tugged her along, chirping happily about ice skating and hockey like a bird. He and his friends had been playing hockey since middle school. She was a casual fan of the Vermont Catamounts, the collegiate men’s hockey team, but her mother was a much more avid fan. Since her mother grew up in New England, she adopted the pride of New England teams as soon as she could talk. Her mother’s favorite team was the Boston Bruins. The only reason Ronnie watched hockey was because her mother loved watching it. She and her father would search high and low for Bruins merch whenever her mother’s birthday came around. 

Kendall paid for rental skates before she could even take her wallet out of her bag. Ronnie promised herself to pay the blonde back. It was cold inside the ice rink, but she would make do. It was almost this cold in Vermont. She hadn’t gotten used to the sunny California weather. He talked while he laced her skates. His eyes sparkled. There were freckles of gold in his green eyes. She tried to keep up with what he was saying, but when he got excited, he talked fast. 

Thirty minutes later, they were on the ice. Only a few people were there. Kendall was better on the ice than she ever could be, but he kept his arms out in case she fell over. 

Ice skating was so much different. It was nothing like roller skating. 

The songwriter expected to fall several times; the ice was cold, and her body was numb. Before she got on the ice, she put on the sweatshirt Kendall had gifted her, and he nearly choked. He hadn’t expected her to put it on at all. Ronnie was hesitant even though he told her not to hesitate since that would make her fall even more. But, of course, she didn’t listen. 

“Stop looking at your feet,” Kendall laughed. She clutched his arms with a vice grip. 

“I need to make sure they aren’t going to hit each other!” Ronnie snapped, her voice wobbled when she wobbled. 

“They aren’t going to if you keep a wide stance.” 

“How wide of a stance do I have to have?” 

“Your feet should align with your shoulders.” 

“...Okay.” Ronnie tried not to look at her feet, but it felt weird looking at Kendall when they were already an arm's length apart. 

She fell a couple more times. Their hour was up before they knew it. Of course, time passes quickly when you’re having fun. Ronnie removed the sweatshirt and tucked it into her drawstring bag again, carefully avoiding bending the card. The sun was about to set, and Kendall pulled out his phone to check the time. 

“Oh, shit!” Ronnie’s eyes widened. “I should be home by now!” 

“What?” Kendall panicked slightly. He never shared much of a conversation with her dad, but he was scared of what her dad would think if she wasn’t home on time. 

The singer and the songwriter ran back to Palm Woods. Kendall apologized to the people on the sidewalk as they ran through. Paparazzi caught sight of them in the distance and tried to get some pictures. It was peculiar that Curt Haverfield’s girlfriend was seen hanging out with Kendall Knight from Big Time Rush, much less that she and him were running through L.A. This would be a story for the ages. 

Ronnie breathed heavily as she rummaged through her bag for her keys, but the door opened. They both were out of breath, but it was surprising Kendall looked like he was going to keel over and die. Her father was on the other side of the door with a big smile. He threw his arms out wide. James, Logan, Carlos, Mrs. Knight, and Katie were further in the apartment. Ronnie felt like there was a puncture in her lungs. 

“Happy birthday!” Her father cheered as he wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. She was grateful for the pressure and hugged him back. 

“Thanks, Dad!” She chirped back. 

Kendall’s eyes widened, seeing his mom, sister, and friends. No one told him they were setting everything up at her apartment. Mr. Clark gave him a weird look as he ushered his daughter inside. Kendall swiped his hair back. The sweat made it stick to his forehead. 

“Where have you two been?” Katie asked. She eyed her brother suspiciously. 

“Ice skating rink,” Ronnie tucked stray strands from her face. Her braid was messed up because of all the running, but she wouldn’t fix it. 

“Here, let me honey.” Mrs. Knight circled the table and pulled out a chair for Ronnie. Cautiously, she sat down and tensed when Mrs. Knight started fixing the French braid. 

“You took her ice skating without us!” Carlos gasped. “How dare you!” He punched the blonde’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, dude. We would have loved to help teach her how to ice skate.” Logan chimed in. 

“Did you have fun on your date?” James leaned an arm on Kendall’s shoulder. 

“It wasn’t a date.” The blonde shrugged his friend off. “What is it with you and dating?” 

“Oh, nothing.” James shrugged. 

“There! It’s nice and neat again,” Mrs. Knight stepped back. Ronnie hesitantly touched the braid and smiled slightly. Her mother used to do her hair in the kitchen on special occasions. 

“I hope you’re hungry for cake.” Mr. Clark grinned. 

The lights went out, and all the kids froze. Her father lit the candles on the beautifully decorated cake and carefully carried it over to the table. Her name was written in yellow cursive writing on top of the Italian rum cake with strawberries. Technically, it was a tradition that her grandmother started when her father was young for an Italian rum cake to be had on birthdays. She had grown up with them for a good majority of her life. It was the last semblance of her family together and tasted like home. Everyone around her sang Happy Birthday, but James was showing off. Kendall smacked his chest because this wasn’t the time or place to practice vocal runs. That was reserved for rehearsal. When the song ended, Ronnie paused. What should she wish for? She was living her dream already, but what else could she want? She had a boyfriend– Oh God, her boyfriend. Curt hadn’t texted her today. He went radio silent. She blew her candles before she could think about her birthday wish. 

The room erupted in clapping and cheers. 

Her father handed her the knife to cut the first slice. She was hesitant to cut the cake, as it was so beautiful, and she was afraid to mess it up. But they all waited patiently. Ronnie took a deep breath and cut the cake when she exhaled shallowly. The last thing she wanted to do was breathe on the cake. Eventually, the cake was passed out, and BTR played softly on the radio. Maybe the birthday curse didn’t exist. It had to be all in her head. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, but she wouldn’t pick it up. She didn’t need to be on her phone right now. She was with people who cared about her and wanted to be there. Being present at this moment was the best she could do. 

Curt: Happy Birthday… 

[naegajeiljalnaga]

I see it, I like it, I want it, I got it <3

So I spoke to my sister 2 weeks ago and she said she wanted to get the Samsung Galaxy S23 Ultra. My mom said she wasn't able to get it for her because it's too expensive. I recently got the Galaxy Z Flip 6 so she got the same phone for my sister. I didn't get my sister a gift for her birthday this year because I had more money going out than money coming in so I didn't have the money to get her what I initially wanted to get for her. I thought to myself, "I should get my sister the phone that she actually wants." So I told myself that by the end of January next year, I will buy her the S23 Ultra.

My best friend's 21st is also in January next year, and I wanted to get her a really nice gift for her that I felt might be meaningful. I also needed some cash so I can travel to her and travel back home after her birthday celebrations. With all of this in mind, I started thinking of ways I could get money because I told myself that I will do all of these things.

And now, I've got a huge lump sum of money that will not only cover my sister's phone and my best friend's birthday, but also I can buy matching jewellery for me and my 2 besties (the birthday girl is one of them), I can buy all the perfumes that I wanted and the perfume oils too, all of the makeup and hair products because my hair has been crying out for help (don't worry hair, your cries have been heard and are now answered), and all the unexpected expenses that have come (like my speeding ticket...) and still have a nice cushion of money to save and invest.

I'm so grateful that I not only am spiritually and energetically abundant but also materially and financially abundant. This money came at the best time for me to celebrate the people I love most (including myself) with Christmas, my sister coming back from uni, both of my besties' birthdays in December and January, and my sister's 21st also being next year, I can get them the material things that show my appreciation and love.

From the day I started thinking of how to get money, I've been playing my manifestation playlist so I'm going to give you the songs I have on that playlist:

7 rings - Ariana Grande

just like magic - Ariana Grande

successful - Ariana Grande

Blessings - Big Sean feat. Drake (I'm not a fan of Drake but I have to say I'm blessed because I am)

Blessings (Reprise) - Chance the Rapper

Bankroll - BROCKHAMPTON feat. A$AP Rocky & A$AP Ferg (this song is really for the chorus)

Money Bag - Cardi B

Lucky Girl - Carlina

Turn to Gold - Aiza

I am - Baby Tate feat. Flo Milli

Good & Great - KEY

CoolAs - KEY

Everywhere - Chloe x Halle

Butterfly (222) - Maijah

Pretty Girl Magic - Moonlight Scorpio

Money Is Coming To Me - Eddie Watkins Jr.

I Get Paid Every Day - Mello Well

Ching Ching Ching Goes The Money Tree

XS - Rina Sawayama

You don't have to listen to all these songs, choose what gets you in the mindset that says you already have it. I love songs that also affirm that I'm capable of getting everything I want, hence why I have got what I want now and it came at the snap of my fingers. Everything I want is already mine like this money.

Listening to music and writing what I would do with the money are my favourite ways of manifesting money; you can do whatever works for you. I just wanted to share this to tell y'all that it is possible, don't doubt it. May this be the last success story you look at before you get your own success story.

Sending all the best vibes, everything you want is already yours xx

[krikeymate]

Frankenstein AU.

Billy Loomis was a madman. That's what people say. All too wealthy, was it any wonder. He saw himself above others, and so he saw himself above God. He saw himself above science.

His experiments got him killed. The town didn't take kindly to finding him digging up their loved ones in the night.

They set him right.

Sam turns 3 the night her father is put down. The noise and the lights wake her up. Her mother ushers her back to bed but stays staring out the window as he's dragged through the streets.

She remembers seeing the tears on her mother's face in the moonlight. It's years before she ever sees them again.

Sam inherits the Loomis home after her grandparents abandon it out of disgrace. She doesn't want to move, it scares her, all dark corners and empty rooms that stretch forever. Her mother doesn't give her a choice.

Things get better. Things get worse.

Her mother takes a husband, and though he is not kind, he is not cruel. He gives her the best gift of all, after all. A little sister.

That is the second of only three gifts Sam ever gets from the world.

For the world hates her so. She's scorned by her peers, her parents, her town. They look at her and see a man she's never once spoken to. They treat her like the dead.

It weighs heavy on Sam, but there is no weight she could not carry so long as her sister's hand was in hers.

For 18 years Sam suffers through life, and on her 21st birthday, it ends.

Sam had been cornered by these boys - men - before. Richie had not taken kindly to being rejected, his affection turning to scorn in an instant. She'd always faced them alone, for no matter how much the world hated Sam, it had no such hostility for her little sister.

Until that day.

It takes only seconds for Sam's life to end. A quick flash of the blade in the moonlight, a pool of blood that puddles to the dirt, the hurried scurrying of rodents fleeing the scene on two feet.

Tara dies in Sam's arms, by a knife meant for another. One much more deserving.

She carries her home, paying no mind to the blood nor the rain, nor the tears on her face. She feels none of it, only the disappearing warmth of her sister.

Tara's cold. She hates being cold. So Sam takes her home, to sit by the fire, to dry her clothes.

In the aftermath, her mother's husband leaves in the night, legacy destroyed in a blink, and her mother may as well have disappeared for all that Sam sees her.

Not that Sam ever wanted to see her. She wanted only what she could not have.

What little staff they kept learned quick, to leave their masters be. Maintain the home, deliver their meals, be gone to their quarters by sundown.

Sam spends all her hours in the basement. It's always cold down there. She hates it, this isn't where her sister belongs, down here in the cold and the dark, but she cannot bring herself to bring her up to the light, to bury her in the grounds beneath her favourite tree, to plant flowers to bloom from her corpse.

She cannot let her sister go, so she stays in the freezer, in the lab which got her father killed.

Her father.

His experiments.

The room remains virtually untouched, a time capsule, dust blanketing pages of abandoned papers.

With a swipe of her hand, she begins to read.

[more-than-tender-curiosity]

Cheater Chester Chester Zester

I'll answer this for Right on Time Chester specifically since it gives me a little more room to expand.

What is the character’s go-to drink order? Vodka red bull for alcohol, quad shot over ice with a splash of oat milk for coffee.

What is their grooming routine? First thing when he wakes up, he applies moisturizer. He is a dewy, well-maintained young man. Also his hair is permed on top so he has to condition it twice, apply gel while still in the shower, wrap his hair in a teeshirt, then carefully scrunch it up right once it's dry. He has to shave his face maybe once a week but he can never seem to remember to do it in the morning so it's usually right before bed/right before going out.

What was their most expensive purchase/where does their disposable income go? Cameras. Lenses. Straps (and not just for the camera). Anyway

Do they have any scars or tattoos? He has a little palm tree tattoo on his ankle from his 21st birthday trip to Miami. He doesn't remember the trip but he does remember the tattoo artist. He also has top surgery scars.

What was the last time they cried, and under what circumstances? Chester cries watching drag race recaps leave him alone. From a real deep emotional standpoint, though, he doesn't cry very often. He handles grief very well and his folks were actually very good to him, so he's probably one of the best off of the gang in terms of mental health.

Are they an oldest, middle, youngest, or only child? He was the youngest with one older sister.

Describe the shoes they’re wearing. Chester has a lot of boots. His nan gifted him with her gogo boots from the sixties because as luck would have it, they were the same size. That was when he was 16 and he has since expanded the collection to include boots for all sorts of functions and occasions. In my mind's eye right now he's wearing untied doc martens from the 90s, no socks.

Describe the place where they sleep. Well, it was the couch that he and Nick broke last summer, but now he's sleeping on 500-thread-count silk sheets in one of Jay's guest rooms. He got the Lavender room. In his bed are 12 pillows (they should never have shown him the linen closet), a horrifically dogeared copy of some god-awful 50-cent mafia romance novel that he's otherwise meticulously annotated and sticky-noted, wrappers from some uhhhhh Recreational Edibles, and probably a sock or two (he always kicks them off). He hasn't been single in a very long time so he's feeling kind of piggish.

What is their favorite holiday? Thanksgiving. Yes he does the cooking, yes he does the cleaning. Mostly because everyone else around him is useless. Though now that he's living in a house with a full army of servants, it's going to be sooo different.

What objects do they always carry around with them? He always has a camera of some sort. Always. Even if it's just his phone, but he fucking HATES taking pictures on his phone because no matter how 'good' that camera is, he swears it can never compare to his 'real camera'. He's honestly right. Beyond that he always has chapstick and, in his wallet, condoms. Eventually jay gives him one of his get out of jail free business cards.

[izicodes]

Thursday 16th March 2023

I am proud to say that I have officially completed my apprenticeship with a Pass grade! I am done done done done!!! I told my manager Tracey and she said "Well, now you're an actual Junior Software Developer! No longer in training!" and I am so happy! 💻💗

I told my Dad, Mum, my fiancé, my sisters and my uncle and they're all super happy! Do you know what that means? Gifts!!! Hehe!

And what a coincidence my 21st birthday is in 4 days so extra gifts AND work are taking me out for my birthday so extra happy day!! ✨

However, even though I finished the apprenticeship, I'm obviously not an expert so I will be continuing studying on my own. I still feel like "Oh I know some stuff but I'm not 100% confident in the rest" so will continue trying new things, building random projects and just go from there!

Thanks to everyone who helped me here and externally! 💗💗

[siren-darkocean]

Near finished update on my Glatorian shirt my sister is making me (which I'm still considering my 21st birthday gift from her)