#Before anyone gets incensed at these anons: Its Fully On Me

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Ièm jsut a little kitty, I domèt know how 2 spell.....

[write-ur-wrongs]

The Death of Me

Pairing: Geralt x reader

Word count: almost 4K - big whoops!

A/N: This was totally meant to be a drabble / blurb, but the story got away from me! A huge thanks to the sweet anon who submitted this prompt - I was beyond inspired and chuckled warmly throughout the entire writing process. This baby isn’t proofread so thread lightly!! I sincerely hope y’all enjoy this one :’) 

Prompt:  Heya! I saw your post about wanting to practice writing short stories so I have a small prompt for Geralt! What about: the reader and Geralt have always had a difficult relationship, always running into each other at the most inconvenient moments and hence disliking each other. However, while Geralt is passing through a village the reader comes barging into his room bloody and near death, only getting a chance to say “I didn’t know where else to go” before collapsing. I would be honoured if the idea inspired you :3

____________________________________________________

You’d never considered yourself unlucky but lately life had a funny way of throwing you for a loop, or rather, throwing you to the wolves. One wolf, actually. A damn, irritating, and arrogant white wolf.

At first, it was all business. You’d arrive in a village itching for a contract, only to find that a “legendary witcher” had already come through and taken care of every monster within a two-days ride. Furious, hungry, and broke, you set out determined to get as far as you could and as quickly as possible. Your determination got you far enough that you’d managed a full three months of contract work, but not far enough it seemed.

You’d been on your way to collect payment from your latest contractor when you’d heard the buzz on the street; a witcher had come through asking about work, and had been told to wait and see as someone else (a woman! A human woman!) had already committed to the case. Apparently, he was either incensed or bemused at the idea – the brute was very hard to read, so say the town gossips – but it didn’t matter to you. You beat him to it and now you get to eat. When you finally met with the contractor to collect your coin, you couldn’t help but swell with pride as they thanked you, eyes wide, for taking care of a monster no human ought to be able to handle. You could have sworn your pride had given you wings as you floated out of the inn.

That is, until you heard them mumble under their breath, “Thank Gods that lass was able to handle it! Had it been the witcher, I would have had to pay triple!”

“Thank heavens for cheap labour!” whispered their partner, raising their glass to cheers their big victory.

Suddenly whatever weightlessness you felt transferred onto your coin purse. Biting hard on your cheek you pushed up your chin, determined to remain dignified. But then you saw him.

Impossibly broad chested, rippling muscles evident beneath his leather armour, with golden eyes that reflected back to you with a cruel playful nature that made bile rise in the back of your throat. He held your gaze and raised his own tankard to you as you walked past him. His deep voice rumbled through you as you pushed the door open.

“Cheers to cheap labour,” you heard him say, and swore you could hear the smirk on his full lips.

Groaning furiously, you pushed the door so hard it swung back and slammed shut behind you with such force a flock of birds took off somewhere in town. Undeterred, you stomped off towards your horse and set off at a gallop.

I’m going to make sure I never cross his fucking path ever again, you thought searingly.

You were wrong it turned out, but how were you supposed to know that?

You’d gone years without actually seeing him again, but that didn’t mean you were free of him. You’d alternated winning and losing contracts to each other, and the pressure of beating him to the next one stressed you so fiercely you developed ulcers. That alone would have been enough to push you to murder had you not heard from another witcher that their brother, the great white wolf, was losing sleep trying to keep up with you. Knowledge of this fact spurred you on; after all, if you couldn’t beat him, it’s best to be even, no?

The next time fate brought you two together, though, you could not have been farther from on top. What made matters worse, is that you weren’t even in battle when your paths crossed. Your literal paths just simply… crossed.

You’d been riding east for many days and just as many nights. You were tired, sore, and somehow still soaked to the bone despite the fact that the rain had stopped at least a day ago. You were so tired, your muscles seemed heavy in your limbs, and you had to keep blinking hard to bring the spinning world around you back to its axis. As you rode through an intersection on the trail, the sun peaked out from behind the thick curtain of clouds just long enough to pull you fully into sleep, and right off your still-moving-horse’s saddle.  

You honestly didn’t remember falling asleep, or off the saddle. You also had no memory of the moment another traveler, who was riding towards the intersection on the other trail, leapt off his mare just as you started your descent and caught you before you could split your skull open on one of the many rocks sprinkled throughout the street. You had no memory of the way he’d pulled you off the path, leading both horses behind him as he’d carried you over his shoulder. Zero recollection of him laying you down on a bed grass, tying your horse to a nearby tree, lighting you a campfire, or filling your pack with some bread and meat.

What you did remember, was the arrogant look on his face when you finally woke up. The condescending tone he took as he reminded you that you were ‘only human’ and had to take care of yourself accordingly was also seared into the annals of your memory.

You hated that he’d saved you almost as much as you hated the fact that you’d been asleep around him. Completely vulnerable for God knows how long and he’d been there to witness it all. Whenever the memory of the look on his face or the way he’d crossed his arms and tilted his stupid head as he condescended your humanity came to you, you couldn’t help but cringe even months after the fact.

***

Your saving grace came a full six months after your damned damsel in distress moment on the trail.

Well fed, well worked, and well travelled, you were taking your time enjoying the market in your town of the week. The work you did wasn’t glamourous, but it did allow you the means to afford a few luxuries every now and then. This time, it just so happened that your coin could buy you the sweetest gift of all: revenge.

The market was busy as ever, you could barely hear yourself think over the cacophony of voices and animal bleats bouncing around the square. Had it been anyone else, the conversation would have been lost among the noise around you, but when that voice came rumbling through the mess of shrieks and shouts, you couldn’t help but seek out the source. You didn’t know why you cared or why you were so surprised to find that the voice’s owner was none other than the White Wolf himself.

“You good?” you asked, making sure to tilt your head, hands on your hips, the same way he’d done the last time you’d met.

“Fine.” He practically barked, not even turning his head fully to address you directly.

The merchant, none-too-concerned with your arrival on the scene, continued as if uninterrupted. “I’m sorry Mr. Witcher, sir, but I can’t go any lower. This is the best I can offer.”

“I can’t pay that much,” he grumbled, hands closed into tight fists.

“I’m sorry-”

“Is this enough?” you interjected, knowingly offering forward far too many ducats.

“Y-yes!” breathed the merchant, looking quizzically at Geralt before picking three coins from your open palm, “thank you, madam...”

“Y/N,” you introduced yourself with a warm smile and a nod.

“Y/N!” Geralt hissed, at the same time, reaching out to push away your hand a fraction too late; the vendor was paid, and you’d won this round.

“What is it, Witcher?” you teased, as the vendor took his sword back for repairs, “been on vacation? Why so skint?”

“Been low on work lately,” he replied coolly, cat-like eyes boring into yours, “not as many contracts as there use to be.”

“Well, I’ll be,” you said, cocking your head to the side and pursing your lips in mock contemplation, “I can’t imagine why that’d be the case! Seems I keep running into monsters to kill.”

“Mmhm.” He hummed, narrowing his eyes at you.

Refusing to let him have the last word, you quickly turned on your heels and high-tailed it out of the market, shouting over your shoulder to the blacksmith to give any change back to Geralt before disappearing back into the crowd.

***

Being even should have brought peace between the two of you but it seemed to have the opposite effect. Your last interaction only fanned the flames of your rivalry. As the months turned to years without coming upon each other again, you still found yourself filled with unreasonable anger whenever you saw a mop of white hair cross you on your travels.

And not that you’d know it, but it turned out that Geralt wasn’t faring any better; finding himself frustrated and acting recklessly whenever he’d come upon anything that reminded him of you.

You were both completely obsessed with one another. Thoughts of the other constantly on the mind. Whether in waking or in dreams, you were both equally afflicted by an intense need to outperform, out run, and also, inexplicably, to impress the other.  

*

It was that need to impress each other that led you to accept a contract you should have never even considered taking. You honestly wouldn’t have even considered it had the circumstances been any different but you’d been hearing about this monster for weeks on your travels. Tales of the mighty griffin tearing people to shreds had been circulating far and wide on this side of the Yaruga, and honestly, with every retelling you’d expected to hear that a witcher had handled it, but that never happened. You’d somehow managed to arrive at the village at the source of these stories before him and had an opportunity to literally rob him of this victory.

Granted, you were the only one who’d been attributing him with this win, but that didn’t matter, not to you. The only thing you cared about when accepting this particular contract was the knowledge that by taking it, you were preventing him from having it, and that was more than enough.

The shock on the villagers faces when they saw you accept the contract only added to your already inflated confidence. The sheer size of the griffin’s wingspan humbled you a little, though, and whatever grand illusions of an easy victory you’d carried into the forest were squashed along with a couple rib bones only moments after engaging the beast. In short, you were fucked.

Some might say that coming out of it alive was enough of a win. Those people would be morons, you thought as you stumbled clumsily back towards the lights of the village, clutching your split abdomen with both hands and blinking back blood dripping from your forehead. Every step you took came with the stabbing pain of additional tearing around your wound. You could barely think, your ears were blocked and caked with dried blood and dirt, your tears stung as they fell across the gashes on your cheeks, and every breath in felt like it could be your last. You’d never admit this out loud, but a part of you wished the creature had finished the job.

Perhaps the only saving grace here was that in your condition, you couldn’t hear the villagers as they pointed and gossiped. You didn’t hear the “told you so’s” or the lewd shouts coming from the drunk men as you stumbled into the tavern. You could barely hear the disappointment in the inn owner’s voice as they reprimanded you for accepting a contract, they knew you couldn’t complete. Rolling your eyes, you pushed your way towards the stairs as quickly as possible – which, as it turned out, was not so quick, praying that someone would call you a healer.

“… and to think a witcher arrived only hours after she went off to kill herself! Tsk-tsk!”

You stopped dead in your tracks, drops of blood falling across your brow as you interrupted the momentum you’d been building. “W-what?” you croaked, turning towards them as much as possible to make sure you’d hear them correctly.

“Yeah! And not just any witcher, lass, the Butcher of Blaviken no less! Checked in with us just as you head out. Had you waited half a day you could have saved yourself a world of – ‘ey! Now where’s she off to?”

As you registered this news, something inside you snapped. Before you knew what was happening, you’d made your way upstairs and started pushing your full weight onto every door you passed. The great White Wolf, the Butcher of Blaviken, was certainly arrogant enough to leave his door unlocked. You might have been wrong about the griffin, but you’d be damned if you were wrong about this.

Fortunate or not, you weren’t wrong about this. As you pushed your shoulder against the last door with whatever strength you had left, the door swung open with very little resistance. The heavy wooden door slammed loudly against the wall at the exact moment that your limp body crashed onto the floor.

“WHAT the fuck!” Geralt howled, leaping off the bed and onto his feet. His wild eyes assessed the situation in an instant, and he bound to you in barely two strides. “What the fuck did you do? What happened?” he asked as he flipped you over, so gently you were sure you’d already passed out and were now dreaming. Or maybe the blood loss was finally catching up to you and you were full-on hallucinating.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” you breathed, barely above a whisper, before losing consciousness in his arms.

*

Regaining consciousness was a slow, painful process. You’d come in and out of it a handful of times throughout the night, and flashes of what you’d seen before you lost it were coming to you in an almost dreamlike haze; terrifying images of the furious griffin, its blood-soaked talon shining in the setting sun as it reared back to strike you again, and warmer visions of Geralt, shirtless, running towards you with – could it be? – genuine concern in his eyes.

Now as the rising sun cast its glow across the room, you squinted painfully against the light. Your head felt as though it was full of cotton; heavy, and scratchy, and unnatural on top of your shoulders. Hesitantly, you ran your tongue over your teeth and were equal parts relieved to find them all there and disgusted at the acrid, mineral taste the blood left behind. Blinking slowly, you tried to bring up your hand to rub at your eyes, but stopped short as you felt the large bandage draped across your forehead.

Slowly, you started to register the other bandages, on your arms, your cheek, across your abdomen. Your eyes grew wide as you finally registered the man facing away from you in the far corner of the room. Geralt’s broad strong back was hunched away from you as he rifled through herbs and small glass vials looking for something. Inexplicably, you found yourself disappointed to see he’d put his thick black tunic back on. Horrified by that realization, you literally gagged, startling Geralt and pulling his attention squarely onto you.

His big dumb beautiful face was all hard lines as he looked you over, stern eyes flashing to meet yours before dropping back down to the vial in his hands. You couldn’t help be notice the way the muscles in in jaw rippled and tensed as he sighed. He was oozing disappointment and anger, and that infuriated you.

“Am I dead?” you ask, squinting at him a little theatrically as you squirmed and winced in your bed.

“No.” he practically growled, his body tense as he made his way towards you slowly.

“Oh,” you breathed, bringing your eyes up to his before adding, “this isn’t hell?”

To your immense satisfaction, his stern eyes widened into shock, but then something unrecognizable flashed across his features – wait, was he hurt?

“Why, because I’m here?” he shouted, as if in confirmation of your hunch, and slammed the damp cloth he’d been holding back into the basin.

“No, jackass,” you retorted, pleased that despite the position you were in, you still had some semblance of an upper-hand, “because a griffin fucking fileted me like a fish and some poor drunk is probably downstairs slipping in a pool of my blood right now.”

You’d kind of hoped that he’d laugh, or at least have a comeback geared up for you, but Geralt just stood there staring at you, his mouth in a tight line, nostrils flaring.

Uncomfortable by the intensity of his stare and the silence accompanying it, you decide to continue to poke the bear.

“Come on, what’s with the face, Geralt? Pissed I’m still alive? You know you could have just closed the door over my body, let nature finish the bloody job.”

“Fuck, no! Y/n!” he screamed, startling you out of the attitude you’d put on, “I’m pissed because you’re an impossibly difficult woman hellbent on killing herself! I’m pissed because you don’t seem to fucking care about what happens to you! You can’t keep doing this Y/N! Because one of these days you’re going to get hurt and you’ll be too far away from me and I won’t be able to fucking save you, again! I am pissed because I am losing my mind spending every god-awful day wondering if you’ve gone and gotten yourself killed! Fucking hell, woman! If you didn’t find me – I-if I wasn’t here, with these herbs – Damnit Y/N!”

You just sat there, mouth opening and closing like a fish. You couldn’t believe it. You didn’t know what to say. This man, your nemesis, was in front of you pacing back and forth, breathing heavily, looking like a maniac. His nostrils were flaring more than the monster that almost killed you just yesterday. Part of you wanted to correct him and demand he never address you as ‘woman’ again, but his wild earnest eyes kept you quiet. My god… was he crying?

Before you could say anything, Geralt sighed gruffly, ran his large hand over his face and stormed out, mumbling something about needing to get you more water.

Left alone with your thoughts, you couldn’t stop yourself from spiralling. You’d expected him to be angry – hell, you wanted him to be angry! You’d humiliated yourself twice over, enraging him would ease the blow – but this was… different. He seemed genuinely concerned about you. And what was with his whole speech? He spent every day thinking about you? Worrying about you? There’s no way.

Sure, you thought about him daily, but that was out of spite! You hated the man! Why else would your heart race whenever you thought you spotted him in a crowd? Why else would you actively seek out the most dangerous contracts? What, like you were hoping these contracts would draw him out, and therefore, closer to you? As if!

Your ridiculous inner monologue was interrupted by Geralt’s return. The horrible brute knocked gently on the door before stepping inside, and your heart had the audacity to skip a beat.

Oh, you thought, fuck.

“I need to change the dressing on your wounds,” he grumbled, not meeting your eyes. You nodded wordlessly as he settled onto the chair next to you. You watched him work in silence, praying he would attribute your insane heartrate and flushed skin to a pain response from his work.

“Geralt?” you tried, chewing nervously on your cheek, as was just finished up with the last of your dressing.

“Hm?” he hummed, keeping his eyes cast down as he fussed with the bandage on the gash across your abdomen.

“Thank you… for saving me.”

He finally brought his gaze up to meet yours, but said nothing in return. He merely grunted in acknowledgment. You didn’t know why, but his silence in combination with his inscrutable gaze encouraged you to keep talking.

“I honestly only took this contract because I didn’t want you to have it,” you admitted bashfully.

“What the fuck? No one was taking it because they weren’t paying nearly enough! Hell, and you’re just a human,” he fumed, throwing up air-quotes as he said it, “so what – they offered you a third of nothing?”

Laughing lightly, you shoved him with your elbow, “they offered me three whole ducats!”

“Oh, wow,” he laughed, low and rumbling, “so a big pay day for you, eh?”

“Shut up,” you gasped as pain rippled through you with each peal of laughter, “knowing I could screw you over was payment enough!”

“Well congratulations are in order, you did manage to screw someone over,” he chided.

“Me,” you stated dryly, gesturing widely at your busted up body.

“You,” he echoed with a sigh that seemed to deflate him.

He suddenly looked so small, sitting there next to you. You watched him as clenched and unclenched his jaw, rubbing his large hands up and down his thighs – was he anxious? You mind raced as you felt his eyes travel slowly up your body. You held your breath as he worked up the nerve to finally bring his eyes up to yours.

The moment his eyes landed on yours, something shifted. Whatever had been lodged uncomfortably between the two of you all these years had finally clicked into place. This change, albeit small, was palpable. His eyes dropped to your lips and lingered there. He was looking at you like he’d never seen you before. Like he was afraid he might never see you again.

Without speaking, Geralt inched himself closer to you and reached a tender hand to tuck your hair behind your ears before cradling your face.

“You’re not allowed to die, do you hear me?” he whispered, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb.

You gave him a quick nod and brought your hand up to his, nuzzling into the warmth of his palm before giving his hand a quick kiss.

“I need to hear you say it,” he begged, bringing himself even closer to you.

“I do,” you breathed, trying to sit up to bring your face closer to his. “I’m not going to die, not on your watch, but I’m also not quitting.”

“Y/N –”

“No! If I quit, you’d get lazy. Who’d push you? What would be your driving force?”

“Wow,” he scoffed, looking at you incredulously but fondly, “you’re so fucking arrogant.”

“And yet…” you said, quirking a brow flirtatiously as you pulled him closer by the collar.

“… and yet?” he murmured, letting himself be pulled closer to you. His eyes half-closed and his lips slightly parted.

“You love me.”

“I love you.”

And then he kissed you. His mouth claimed yours urgently but his hands were ever gentle, ghosting over your bandages and caressing your skin with a feather-light tenderness that would have brought you to your knees had you not already been bedridden. Any hesitation or doubt melted away under the heat of his touch as all those years of tension sprung apart catastrophically. The knot you had carried in your stomach unfurled into flittering fireflies, their heat traveling up your stomach to your chest as his hands worked their way into your hair.

You didn’t know when they’d fallen, but you let out a shaky laugh as Geralt kissed away the tears on your cheeks, his thumb swiping at the tears his soft lips failed to catch. Breathing heavily, he rested his forehead against yours; his hands cupping your face as yours captured his.

Gods – this man was going to be the death of you.  

[worldwidemochiguy]

100 days (soft yandere! Taehyung)

Summary: You and Taehyung celebrate your 100th day anniversary... again. (it’s really 274 days, but who’s counting?)

Word Count: 3.7K

Authors note: This was in response to an anon requesting a part 4 for made for each other, so thank u to them :))))) and also ig enjoy 

Made For Each Other Masterlist

General Masterlist

You hummed, turning the bukkimi over again to see the bottom had turned a pleasant golden brown. You swiftly took it from the frying pan and placed it on the plate next to all the others you had just pan-fried, forming two rows of neat white pouches decorated with edible flower petals. You knew you had, perhaps, gone a bit overboard for your 100 day anniversary, but you wanted to make it special. 

On your first 100 day anniversary — a little over three months after he had taken you — Taehyung had been so sweet, even if you weren’t quite ready to accept him yet, still clinging onto the childish notion of independence. You had woken up to a beautiful dress set out for you to wear, one that you had no other choice but to don sullenly since he had anticipated you wanting to disobey him and had taken all of your other clothes and hidden them. 

He had made you breakfast in bed — your favourite breakfast, actually — and served it along with a single rose. You had taken the food and sequestered yourself in your room. At lunch, he had asked if you wanted to eat a meal with him on the couch and watch TV — something he had not let you do since he took you. That was probably the first time you were voluntarily enjoying yourself in his company, eating the pizza he ordered and sat as far away from him on the couch as was physically possible. In the evening, he had taken you to a restaurant that he had completely booked out. It was just the two of you, and the moonlight, and the terrified chef who you were pretty sure Taehyung had threatened to kill if he didn’t stay and make the two of you the best meals you’d ever had in your lives. You didn’t realise it then, but you looking back you realised how romantic Taehyung was, even though you had been unpleasant and ungrateful the entire day. 

Now, you had a chance to finally make it up to him. It was the 9th of October, 100 days after your first kiss and you were determined to celebrate this with him since you had ruined the first 100 day anniversary. Taehyung always went above and beyond to demonstrate his love for you; constantly buying you gifts, treating you with kindness and patience even when you disobeyed him, and protecting you from anything and anyone that would try to hurt you. You were so lucky to have him. 

When he left for work in the morning, you had persuaded him to let you stay behind, complaining that you had a stomach ache. He was fully prepared to stay with you and take care of you in bed — an offer that had been very difficult to refuse — but you assured him that you would be fine at home alone. He had made you promise to text him at least once every twenty minutes, a promise you were glad to make, and left after a prolonged make-out session, “to make up for all the kisses I’ll be missing at work today” Taehyung had argued.

“I’d hope so!” You shot back, “I won’t be very happy if I decide to come in and see you fucking Jimin over a desk.” You had intended to make him laugh, but instead he pulled you into his chest, crushing you there as he whispered into your hair.

“Never,” his voice was hushed, but almost scarily fervent, “I’d never betray you, baby, never. I’d rather die.” Slightly shocked by his reaction, but touched to your core at the sentiment he was expressing, you had burrowed into his arms, reaching up slightly to place a kiss on his jaw. He leaned down return a chaste kiss before pulling back with a deadly serious expression you seldom saw him wearing directed at you.

“I don’t ever want to hear you doubt me again, baby. You have to trust me, always.”

“No, I-I know,” you had stuttered in the face of his controlled anger, “I was making a joke, but it wasn’t funny, and I shouldn’t have done it.” His shoulders loosened slightly. “I’m sorry Tae.” He sighed and pulled you back into his chest. 

“It’s ok, baby.” 

“Will I be punished?” He stilled for a second, chewing his lip contemplatively. You held your breath. 

“No.” You exhaled. “I wouldn’t punish my baby when she feels poorly. Besides, you’ve learnt your lesson, haven’t you?” You nodded eagerly and he tapped your nose with a smile, before kissing you goodbye. 

You had fought with yourself over whether or not to call him and ask him to come back to the apartment for almost forty minutes after he left. You hated lying to him, and every second without him felt like a moment wasted, but you knew you should make this day perfect for him. Your suffering would simply be a demonstration of your love, after all, it wasn’t like you had never suffered for him in order to prove your love before. 

You started off by doing an intense clean of the apartment. After spending the better part of two hours — admittedly, about half an hour of that was spent giggling on the phone texting Taehyung while he should’ve been in a meeting — on your knees scrubbing every surface until it shined, you dotted scented candles around various points in the apartment. You didn’t light them, partly because it would be a waste since they wouldn’t be properly appreciated until much later in the day and also because you knew Tae would never be ok with you doing anything that dangerous, especially on your own.

You gathered up flowers Tae had bought for you and placed them in vases in strategic well-lit areas, the sunlight from the window bleeding through translucent petals and tinting the light a soft pink. You had even printed selcas Tae and you had taken together and pegged them on strings hanging from the walls, as well as a few of his favourite photos of you that he had taken while he was still first getting to know you from afar. He really was a skilled photographer. He had managed to take such beautiful shots, all while you remained unaware of his existence. You draped a white tablecloth over the smaller dining table, the one that would allow you to sit directly across from each other as if you were on a real date in a restaurant, and placed a small note on top of it.

100 days since our first kiss ♡

i can’t wait for countless hundreds more (of both days and kisses xxx)

i am so grateful every day that you saw me and for some reason thought i was worthy of you, 

i love you tae and i can’t wait to spend the rest of our lives together !!!

- your girlfriend ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Now, you had just finished what you planned to bring out for dessert in what you had internally dubbed The Ultimate 100-Day Date for Tae My Amazing Wonderful Perfect Boyfriend (you were thinking of maybe shortening the name a bit). You were just about to get out the sweet potatoes to slice up for the Japchae main course when the door swung open with a bang. 

You screamed as a man ran into the apartment. He turned to you - Oh my God, I’m going to die - and dropped his suitcase- suitcase? Why does he have a- 

Oh, it’s Tae. 

Guess I won’t die after all. Or I will, since he seems determined to squeeze me to death. 

Taehyung was crushing you to his chest, gripping you tight enough to bruise, as he muttered something unintelligible into your hairline. His body was shaking, with relief or hysteria, or both, you just didn’t know. 

“Tae- hey, Tae-” He shoved himself off you abruptly and you gasped in a relieving breath, too focused on getting oxygen in to worry about the expression on his face.

“Baby…” his tone was dark, dangerous — he may have called you something affectionate but there was nothing on his face that expressed anything remotely related to love. It was chilling. 

“Tae… you’re back early.” He was back early, way too early, two hours early, this basically ruined your plan to surprise him. Though, he didn’t seem to have noticed the changed decor of the apartment so who knows, maybe he wouldn’t realise. 

“Well, I had to leave work early and come back after someone forgot to text me for over an hour.” 

Ah. Fuck.

You had felt guilty for texting him for so long earlier in the day. This meant that when the alarm you had set chimed, reminding you to text him again, you had ignored it thinking that you would be able to text in five minutes. You had not remembered to text him after five minutes, or ten, or thirty, or sixty. And now he was pissed. 

“I come home expecting to find you collapsed, unconscious because of your stomach pains that had caused you to feel so ill that you absolutely had to stay at home today, alone, on your own insistence.” You gulped. You could feel the anger rolling off him in waves and it wanted you to whimper in submission. You think you did, and if anything it made only made him more incensed. 

“And instead I find you miraculously cured from the pain you ensured me would cause you to stay in bed all day, within reaching distance from your phone, making fucking bukkimi.” 

As he spoke, he stalked closer to you like a lion circling its helpless prey, cunningly manoeuvring himself around until your back was pressed against the wall with nowhere else to run and he was in front of you, eyes practically sparking fire.

“Who the fuck are you making this for anyway? Who is he? Tell me his name, baby, I want to hear you scream it as you watch the life drain out of his eyes. As you watch him die for touching you. I’ll kill him for touching you, baby. I’ll kill every motherfucker on the planet that touches you, and I’ll make you watch, I swear to God. I can’t hurt you like that but I’ll make you regret it.” 

“T-Tae,” you stuttered, lips quivering, and his lips twisted into a cruel smirk,

“Wrong name, baby. I said I wanted his name, and I know you weren’t making these for me. You said so yourself, you weren’t expecting me. I’m home early.” He mocked your words cruelly, and you felt the floodgates break, finally allowing the sobs to punch their way out of your throat. You couldn’t believe Tae thought that you- that you would- you couldn’t even think the repulsive thought you were sure his head was full of. 

You were going to be sick. All you wanted to do was make this 100 day anniversary special since you had ruined the last one, but you ended up ruining this one too. 

Tae simply watched as you released your tears, seemingly unaffected, but you could see his hands clenching into tight fists, white-knuckled in the attempt not to touch you, to comfort you. This little fact gave you some hope, and you let yourself have five seconds to control your sobs before straightening up again, looking him in the eye and praying he could see the sincerity in them. 

“I’m sorry. You’re right; I lied to you.” He took this like a physical blow, and reared back, undoubtedly preparing to shout at you some more, so you continued on, not letting him misinterpret. “I am preparing this food for you. Not anyone else, just you, I swear it.” Your voice broke slightly, but you tried to carry on in a calm and even tone of voice. “I just- I shouldn’t have lied to you in the morning about my stomach, I’m so sorry and I knew it was wrong even then, but I just wanted to surprise you.”

“I prepared this… date? For us. It’s our 100 day anniversary, and I wanted to… I don’t know, I spent the day preparing food for us so that we could sit down and have dinner together. I’ve got your favourite dress of mine hung up in our room and ready to put on. I even cleaned and decorated the apartment to make it more… romantic. But I ruined it. I lied. I’m sorry.” As soon as you had finished talking, you let yourself cry again. Silent tears ran down your cheeks in rivulets as you waited for Tae to leave and brood in his room for a while, like he always did when he was deciding on the best punishment. But that’s not what he did this time. 

He stood there, completely still, but then he suddenly looked around him, noticing the decorations you had painstakingly placed around the space you had come to call yours, rather than just his. He then looked to the kitchen counter, where the evidence of your hours of hard work lay. 

“But… It’s not our 100 day anniversary. It’s not even close. That was like 5 months ago, we celebrated it together.” His voice came out as quiet and scratchy, a huge contrast to the enraged yell he used to eviscerate your heart only moments earlier. 

“No, I-I know. I remember how sweet you were that day, and I ruined it by being rude and ungrateful. I wanted to fix that, to do something nice for you, instead of just letting you do all the nice things like always. This is the 100 day anniversary of our first kiss, the day I told you I loved you for the first time. I thought it would be nice to celebrate it… together.” You finished lamely, feeling more and more embarrassed with every word. 

“You… you remembered the 100 day anniversary of our first kiss?” 

“Of course I did.”

You were certain that he would now — upon realising how pathetically, uselessly attached to him you were — dump you and your shit on the curb and call someone to pick you up and take you far away. But, for the second time in roughly two minutes, he didn’t do what you expected. 

Instead of withdrawing, he got even closer. His arms came up to wrap around you as his head dipped down so that he could press his forehead against yours.

“No, baby… I’m sorry.” You stilled in unadulterated shock. He was sorry? For what? “You certainly shouldn’t have lied to me, but I understand why you thought that was best. And I’m happy you wanted to celebrate this anniversary with me — that is, if you still want-”

“Of course I do!” You bit your lip, you shouldn’t interrupt him, but you couldn’t bear to just let him believe you were anything other than desperate to spend time with him. 

“You still want to?” He asked, incredulous. 

“Of course I do!” You repeated, hoping this time he would actually listen to you. “I just don’t get why you would want to be with me, right now. You were… so angry at me, Tae.” He sighed, curling his arm around your waist and pulling you flush to his chest. That was something he always did when he felt extra possessive over you. He did it a lot.

“I know I got mad, baby, I just- the thought of you with another man makes me see red-”

“I’d never cheat on you, Tae. Never. I’d rather die.” You interjected without control, and he shushed you softly. 

“I know you wouldn’t, baby. And I shouldn’t have thought that you would, especially considering how angry I was this morning when you joked about me doing the same thing.” His fingers came up to comb through your hair and you dropped your head back, finally relaxing again. He laughed softly.

“I’m sorry I ruined your surprise for me.”

“No, it’s alright.” You replied, voice softer and slurred slightly as his fingers massaged your temples, “You can keep me company while I slice the japchae.” 

You made him stand far away from where you were preparing the meal, a cute pout on his face that made you relent several times and walk over to kiss him. If you let him close to the food he would just take the knife from you — aish, this is too dangerous for a precious princess like you to touch — and do all the work. You were determined that, even though he didn’t get the surprise dinner, he would at least get a nice meal where he didn’t have to lift a finger to do any work. 

This plan was foiled slightly when he distracted you were you were slicing the potato into thin strips. His newest scheme to get you to let him do what he wanted was to just constantly look at you with bedroom eyes. It was, understandably, very distracting, so you were not too angry at yourself when your wrist loosened slightly and, instead of drawing the knife over the noodle, you ran it against your skin. You stopped as soon as you felt the lancing pain and looked down with a quiet whimper, watching as your blood spilled over all of the perfectly sliced soon-to-be japchae. 

“That took me so long~” you whined softly,

“Babe?” Taehyung’s panicked voice broke through your mourning of the wasted dinner and you glanced up in time to see him practically vault over thin air in order to get to you faster. “You’re hurt! I told you that you shouldn’t hold the knife!” He yelled, even as he took your index finger into his grip so tenderly that it barely hurt. It was a narrow, clean cut — the knife was very sharp, after all — but it was deep, and you weren’t sure how long it would take for the wound to stop bleeding. He held it tightly to staunch the cut as well as he could, gently leading you into the bathroom where the first aid kit was. 

He hushed you when you fussed about getting blood on his fancy suit, and responded each time you apologised for ruining dinner with a plea to stop being ridiculous and a kiss. He even kissed your banged finger to make it ‘heal faster’. You promptly said that kissing you on the lips would heal your finger twice as fast, and his laugh, loud and deep and clear, was the best thing you had heard all evening. 

Tae decided to order takeout since the japcahe was off the table, pizza please, you requested and his expression mirrored your cheesy smile, both of you remembering that first 100 day anniversary where you had refused to even look at him while you ate the pizza as fast as you could to avoid talking to him. Oh, how things have changed. When the pizza arrived, both of you moved to sit together on the couch, curled up as close as could be and surrounded by the candles Tae had lit for you. 

He happened to straighten up slightly and look around, his eye caught by a letter left on the table you had set for the original meal. 

“What’s that over there?” He questioned.

“That’s a table, Tae.”

“Aish,” he jogged your body slightly, even as you both laughed, and then asked again with a cute pout that you were helpless to resist.

“It’s just a little note I wrote for you, I don’t know.” Instead of letting his curiosity be satisfied by that as you had hoped, his eyes lit up with interest and he immediately rose from the couch. 

“Are you… you’re going to read it now?” Your cheeks heated up as you remembered what you had wrote, and the many, many hearts you had scribbled down next to his name. 

“Of course I am. Did you write it expecting I’d never read it?” His tone was teasing, and only made you more flustered.

“No I just… didn’t think you’d read it… literally right in front of me.” You heard his laugh from across the room, though you didn’t look up to see it since your eyes were firmly planted on the ground, as was your stomach — it had lurched uncomfortably downwards as soon as it became clear he wasn’t going to read it somewhere when he was far away from you.

“I’m not literally right in front of you,” he called from the other side of the apartment, and then you heard his footsteps making their way back to you until his house slippers were directly in your downcast line of vision.

He reached down and tilted your chin up with one hand, in the other hand of course, he was holding the note. 

“Now I am, though.” His smile was triumphant, and it didn’t dim even as he pulled back to stand up straight and read the short note. If anything, the smile grew bigger and brighter until it outshone all the strategic, ambience-creating candles in the room. 

“Baby…” he started, his voice sultry and low, causing you to shiver involuntarily. He noted this with a smug eyebrow quirk. “I quite look forward to giving you those ‘hundreds of kisses’,” the smirk in his voice became evident as he quoted your note, and you wondered if you could burrow into the sofa and make your new home there, “But I’m afraid this letter is actually incorrect.”

“W-what?” You were so distracted by his offer of a hundred kisses that you didn’t truly register what he said, “What do you mean?” 

“I mean, the part where you called yourself my girlfriend.”

“Huh?”

“It’s wrong — or at least it will be after tonight.”

“What- Tae, why-” you floundered, feeling slightly hurt but mostly confused, “-why is it wrong? Why… should I not call myself your girlfriend?” 

Taehyung answered promptly, “Because you’ll be my wife.” And then he dropped to one knee. 

[jafndaegur]

That Day We Met, It Snowed Too

Jumin x MC

°.*~*.°.*~*.°.*~*.°.*~*.°.*~*.°.*~*.°

a/n: This is based off the Japanese folk-tale the Crane Wife (particularly Rin & Len’s version in Seasonal Feathers). This was inspired by and made as a companion for @anon-drabble’s take on Orihime and Hikoboshi. Yes, this is male!MC.

°.*~*.°.*~*.°.*~*.°.*~*.°.*~*.°.*~*.°

Nimble fingers worked the loom, and MC looked up from his whittling to watch Jumin work. They were both talented, but his husband took craftsmanship to a level like no other. Beautiful blue and silver decorated the woven cloth, the threads going back and forth and back and forth as Jumin added line after line. The motion was hypnotic. He couldn’t help but be drawn in.

His chest clenched, and MC bent over, coughing wracking his frame. The loom carrier clattered when it hit the floor, Jumin suddenly at his side. Steel grey eyes searched him in panick. MC tried to control his breathing through the thick hacking veil.

“The cold does my lungs poorly,” he admitted, covering his mouth afterwards. His forehead touched the floor and his body spasmed violently with each cough.

“Once this blanket is done, you will have better warmth, my love.” Jumin’s touch was a steady and gentle reassurance on his back.

MC tried to hide the blood seeping through his fingers as he slowly sat back on his heels. “You’re too good to me.”

Panic fueled every ounce of Jumin’s body as he rushed for the doctor on the otherside of the village. The snow was cold. The world frozen. But neither of those things stopped him from dragging the old healer back to his home.

Who knows how long it took, but his body paced aimlessly. He trudged back and forth in front of the door, waiting on the verdict. Little by little, Jumin’s patience began to seep away into a thin frail line. He was half tempted to barge in on the exam when the doctor emerged with a grim expression.

Jumin felt his stomach rise to his throat.

“He will die,” the doctor murmured. “You’re lucky the cold season is almost at its end. He will have some good weather to see him off.”

Jumin grit his teeth. “Is there nothing I can do?”

“Well…” The doctor scratched his chin and gave a huff. “There is medicine.”

“Where can I find it?” Jumin demanded. “I will pay anything. I will do anything. I need the medicine.”

Humming darkened in the doctor’s throat. “I can order it…however, it is a western remedy. And therefore far more expensive than either you or he can offer.”

“How much?”

The doctor mentioned very vaguely his guess of the cost.

The storm in Jumin’s eyes darkened. He barely managed to thank the old man, barking out a reminder to order the medicine, before storming back into the hut. MC slept soundly on a futon, his breath rasping with every rise and fall of his chest. He had only until spring…

Jumin walked over to the loom, staring fully at the half-finished blanket. They would need high price and high quality in order to afford the elixir for MC. But it didn’t matter. He could afford any price if it was for his beloved. Nails shredded into skin, and Jumin tore the top layer of flesh off his forearm. Blood dripped onto the floor and splattered onto his feet. But no longer did he hold human skin. Instead in his grasp was a patch of ebony fur.

He began to weave his pelt into the cloth.

…

MC trudged onward, limbs numb and skin freezing. The weighted pack on his back made him want to just give up, however he was so close to home. Just over the ridge. Just over the ridge and onto the next plateau—he would be able to see his hut.

But the overnight snowfall had brutally hindered his progress. Knee high, he hadn’t brought the right tools to make the trek.

Snowflakes clung to the fringe of his bangs and his eyelashes. The white puffs dampened his clothes and froze his skin.

A distressed yowl paused him and he felt his body grow rigid. Not from the biting cold, however. The pit of his stomach heated and he felt his nerves spike through his throat to his jaw. He clenched his hands.

Again another howl, followed by another and another. And as MC listened, he realized that it wasn’t a cry of hunting or anger—but of pain. Fear.

His own. Its own. Whatever it was.

He crept closer to the sound, the snow crunching underneath the soles of his feet. Trying to keep his teeth from chattering, his jowl muscles pulled taut. He inhaled deeply.

And exhaled.

A large feline thrashed and scattered mounds of snow as it tore and tore and tore at a hunting trap which had snagged its paw. Deep red stained the snow, and as MC snuck closer he could see the gouges that marred the creature’s limb from all of its escape attempts.

“What a painful death for a beautiful creature…” MC stared ruefully at the animal. It was large, far larger than any cat he had seen. With long pointed ears and a wavering fluffy tail, the creature was all ebony fur and rippling muscle underneath.

A hunter. A predator. A carnivore stuck in a trap.

Swallowing slowly, MC stepped close, carefully and tediously. All the while he called out gently to the creature, trying to calm it.

The animal whipped around and faced him with a snarl before giving pause and staring almost incredulously.

Beautiful steel eyes observed him, and he was almost taken aback at how much knowing was hidden behind the glassy surface.

“I’m going to get you out,” he murmured, never breaking the contact.

The cat’s lips pulled back and it bared it’s teeth while it hissed. But MC crouched lower, came closer, made himself smaller. He reached for the iron cord, a simple deer trap designed to tighten with continued struggle. He had no idea who left a trap like this out on such a terrible day…but he loosened the knot, undid the chord—and screamed when the cat pounced on him and dug its claws into his shoulders.

It growled and snarled,and he squeezed his eyes shut. Alarm coursed through every vein and artery when he realized that this animal almost the size of his upper body was going to kill him. But a moment passed, and then a breath, and a second, and a minute. Nothing else transpired.

He opened his eyes, very warily. The animal observed him with a narrowed curiosity. He blinked. It blinked.

Then in a sudden whorl of fur and snow, the creature bounded away—leaving MC flat on his back.

He picked up his hat and flattened out his robes, wobbling the rest of the way home. When he arrived and put down his pack at the front step of his hovel, he tried to ignore the raven-haired man sitting at the stoop. The stranger radiated magic, not that he would say out loud that he had noted such.

“Won’t you invite me in? It’s rude to make a visitor wait,” the man rumbled, his arms still crossed over his chest and his eyes still closed.

“I don’t make it a habit of inviting odd people into my home.” MC raised his brow but opened the door.

The man looked up with a slight, Cheshire smirk. “My name is Jumin. And now we are not unacquainted.”

“Well… how long do you plan on visiting?”

“However long you’ll permit my presence. ”

MC smiled.

...

Claws grew from fingertips. Fingers hardly moved. Arms and legs were wrapped tightly with bandages.

Jumin curled up beside MC’s side, his wrapped-up hand brushing along a gaunt cheek. His husband was fading, and he couldn’t even feel the fluttering warmth beneath the layers of cloth that bound his wounds. The blue and silver blanket, Jumin clutched that with his free hand as his bottom lip wobbled.

“Would you still love me,” Jumin whispered and his voice cracked. “If I were no longer human—if I turned into a monster to protect you?” His fangs poked painfully inside his mouth.

MC’s every inhale and exhale wheezed past dry lips. His eyelashes fluttered.

Gripping his creation, Jumin stood on one quavering leg and then the other. His body rocked violently back and forth but he forced himself to take a step after step after step until he was sprinting. Flying across earth and fresh breathing grass as if he were weightless. His first task was to sell the blanket, the second to get the medicine.

Hurry, hurry, there’s no time left.

He skidded through the merchant’s plaza, begging for anyone to take a look at his work. A few glowered at him while others showed concern. It wasn’t until he reached the closest stall that he garnered the attention he needed.

“Young man, let me look at your wares.” A trader called. He was dressed finely in gorgeous robes, his pale blue hair pulled back in a ponytail. An envoy for the royal household.

Jumin stumbled hopefully towards the vendor, all but shoving the blanket into the stranger’s hands. The appraising look and guarded touch that skimmed over the cloth set his stomach on fire with anxiety. But he kept quiet and observed. Fleeting hints of smile, a small twinge of the eyebrow—the vendor was at least pleased.

“I buy and sell high quality art,” the seller explained. “Our rulers are quite the fanatics when it comes to such, so I’ve seen my fair share of well-made pieces.This, however, is the most beautiful tapestry I’ve laid my eyes upon.”

Jumin shook. “That. That is my life’s work.”

There was a brief flicker of understanding on the other man’s face, before he lightly brushed his hand along the surface. The cloth rippled with an opalescent shimmer, as if made of gemstone. Displaying flashes of blue, silver, and ebony at their finest.

“I can see the story you’ve so painstakingly woven.” The merchant dug into his coinpurse. “Ten gold pieces.”

“Twelve.” Jumin leaned forward, his face seriously drawn.

The man nodded. “Fair and deal. Your price, my friend.”

Jumin couldn’t find the words to thank him. So he promised more business. He promised more cloth. He took the money and bolted for the doctor’s. Bandages were beginning to unravel. Fur and blood were seeping from skin.

“Medicine!” Jumin all but screamed when he arrived.

The doctor retrieved the item, a small parcel, and handed it to the incensed man. Jumin shoved the gold into the old man’s hand, and ran away.

Fur and blood, fur and blood, all of it staining further.

Jumin’s feet flew over freshly reborn land, spring entering her height of season. Flowers bloomed and trees blossomed, yet he could only muster the strength to make it home.

Time was up, for both he and MC.

He could see the hut in the distance. His heart thundering in his chest. Feline eyes narrowed and angular face scrunched in determination. But he fell. His body collapsed as his wounds reminded him over and over, tying him in crimson threads and restricting every movement.

He yowled out in pain, his voice the furthest from human. Please…please…I’m so close.

Jumin sobbed.

“Did you know,” a frail and familiar voice whispered.

His vision snapped up to see MC crouching down before him. A healthy glow warmed his husband’s cheeks, and his body looked strong and sturdy.

W…what?

“Don’t you know,” MC gathered Jumin into his arms, burying his face into the crook of his neck. “I will love you whether you are human or not. I have since the day I first saw your ebony pelt against the bleached snow, your form flitting when you ran free.”

His arms smudged and smeared blood and fur and human life between them as he drew them together, held them together.

Jumin grasped onto to the embrace—trembling—the medicine safe in his hold.

[delicrieux]

divination

PART 2: MY GIRL

PAIRING: charlie weasley x reader

summary: charlie has a crush on (name) and tries to act normal around her. surprise! it appears (name) has a crush on him, too also, requested by anons and @ghostwriter050402. a/n: this may or may not be a set up to another fic lol. ANYONE THAT WANTS TO BE TAGGED LEMME KNOOOO!!! ALSO! y’all are THIRSTY FOR CHARLIE!! TBH CAN’T BLAME YOU i love myself a man w a ponytail. i’ve gotten a lot of requests so i put them at the end of the fic as to not take up too much space :) what else what else...oh! thank you everyone for loving my fics! means the whole world to me, really. your comments make my day <3 THANK YOU TO MY BAE @slytherin-princess1 FOR THIS MOODBOARD! SUPPORT MY WIFE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! xoxo

feedback is always appreciated xoxo

MASTERLIST.  ko-fi (i chug coffee as i write these fics, and another cup would make me happy <3)

Charlie Weasley never really had the chance to talk to you during your first three years at Hogwarts, and he blames it on Quidditch and his lack of suave charm for this ordeal. Bill always raved about how absolutely fantastic you are, what a smart witch, good friend, and a passionate person. He was not even sure how you looked until he saw his brother rush to a short Slytherin girl with the prettiest eyes he had ever seen. He was about to take a sip of pumpkin-juice, though his hand, seeming to have a mind of its own, had halted near his lips and the liquid drizzled helplessly onto his shirt. He hardly even noticed the mess he was making, instead his attention now stuck onto you as his eyes trailed you and Khan wave bye to Bill and take a seat by your table. Bill, too chipper for such an early gloomy morning, sat down next to his brother idly chatting about this and that when—

“Charlie…” Bill started gently, “Are…Are you okay? What happened to your shirt?”

That is how it had all started. Rita Skeeter’s competition made you even more of a target for the public eye, and he suddenly started seeing you everywhere. Perhaps noticing you is the better term to describe it – you are not a ghost, nor have you deliberately taken routes where you knew he was loitering about. If you were missing your usual group of friends, which consisted of some of the brightest and most mischievous students of the time, you were sneaking around the castle looking like a suspicious girl trying to act as inconspicuous as possible. Even before regarding you fully, not just in passing indifferent glances, he had heard of your mission, your brother, and the dangers and chaos that followed after you.

You are just…so cool, how could he not crush on you?

Andre is friends with everyone. He has connections and he knows how to use them, and he also happens to be Charlie’s best friend. Keeping crushes a secret from bothers is easy because they are mostly preoccupied with other things, and Bill is drowning in his Prefect duties as it is. But from best friends? It took exactly five minutes for Andre to notice the dreamy look in Charlie’s eye during dinner one night, and ten minutes to coarse it out of him. With his secret outed, Charlie had desperately shushed his friend when he giggled not so subtly, and only after Andre swore not to say a word about this to anyone did he ease up. After a bit of deliberation, Charlie then asked Andre for a bit of help. Nothing drastic, just something to get your attention, or at the very least inform you of his existence.

And Andre had helped him. In a conversation, which Charlie demanded be described in great detail, that Andre and you had had at Hogsmeade, Andre had named dropped Charlie, completely out of place and out of context. You must have either not noticed or not cared, because it sure as hell sounded weird and awkward.

But as fate has it, he is seated next to you in one of his least favourite lessons – Divination. Though, upon noting your tiny form plopped on a seat by his table, he soon came to change his mind.

The room is hazy and full of light pink and purple smoke, lavender incense, and crackling fire. It’s hot. Fumes stick to his skin, and he has to shake off his robe as in a last attempt to feel less warm. You have long lost yours. No windows are open. The Professor mumbles ghastly into her crystal, her soft whispers a mix of fright and awe. Students mumble quietly amongst themselves. No one dares to break the silence with a laugh, because they know that the professor will freak if they do. The crystal ball resting on his and yours table emits an alluring lilac hue.

The two of you had shared formalities and then fallen into silence, focusing on the task at hand – seeing the future. The Professor had promised that vision would come to all who gaze into the crystal’s depths. Charlie did not buy it for a single second, he even grinned dumbly, about to strike a conversation with you about what absolute bull this class is, only to find you greatly immersed and glaring at the crystal. It then dawned to him that you are, most likely, trying to see your brother in that small glass. That or you are greatly interested in checking out your reflection.

“Is it working for you?” You inquire, your eyes finally lifting from the crystal to him. He shrugs, rolling up his sleeves.

“The only thing I see is me sweating.” He comments dryly. You grin.

“I suppose it is a bit silly,” You agree, “I was hoping to at least get a snippet. The Professor was really into it. Thought I give it a genuine go before wanting to throw it out the window.” Your voice turns bitter, “I think my face is going to melt off.” You mumble, pressing your palms onto your red cheeks. “Do you think we could sneak out of here?”

He chokes on fumes, they burning his throat. We.  Plural. Should he be excited, or are you simply nice enough to want to break him out this horrible class and send him on his merry way? After a few contained coughs, and you giving him a sympathetic look, he nods, “I think if someone came close to death or caused a diversion, we could book it.”

“What if I pretended to faint?” Your voice tints with glee, which is a bit morbid but he doesn’t mind. Your eyes twinkle mischievously in the lilac glow, “You could call the Professor and then carry me to the infirmary or something.”

Carry me. He chokes again. Your hands lands on his upper arm, soothing gently, your voice now laced with concern, “Are you alright, Charlie?”

He nods dumbly, “I think I’m allergic to this smoke.”

“Well, if you faint first I will try my hardest to carry you.” You say with a smile. He grins.

“Yea, good luck with that.”

“I know a few handy charms.”

“Use ‘em often?”

“Only when desperate times call for desperate measures.” You look him in the eye, “You ready?”

“Try not to hit your head on your way down.”

“I am hardly that reckless.” You state and he stares at you expectantly, “Yea, alright, I get it, I’ll be careful.”

Just as you are about to start your act, his eyes catch the strange mirage in the crystal. Curious, he peers into it, and his heart skips a beat – in the haziness he manages to recognise his figure and yours, but it is dark and blurry and hard to understand but he thinks that you and he are in a chamber of some sort. He blinks stupidly, alert and uneasy, about to call your name but once he looks up he sees you lifeless leaning off your chair before you fall and knock the crystal off of the table.

The whole class hears you slump  - it is more the clatter the ball makes as it rolls off of the table and onto marble ground – and a series of gasps along with the Professors confused “What happened?” echo in the hot classroom. Charlie is quick to your aid, jumping from his chair and circling around to lift you, “I think she fainted, Professor.” He explains, worried. Soon he has you in his arms. He notes you trying your hardest not to grin, and he has to fight off a smile too. With you safely in his grasp - honestly, light as a feather – he turns to the Professor, “I will take her to the infirmary.”

“Yes, please do…But be back quick!

Yeah, that’s a no, the two of you share the same line of thought. You and Charlie are only coming back long after class is over, and only to get your stuff back.

After a successful mission the two of you were free for the period. He was a tad disturbed of how good you were at this acting thing, but the adrenaline over being your partner-in-crime had taken hold of him and he could do nothing but smile dumbly at every word you said. The two of you lazily spent the period, lounging in the cooler part of the castle and letting exhaustion take hold of you. The air was fresh and crispy and the ground radiated with cold. The two of you had plenty of time to relax, and once conversation was done with, pleasant silence settled. Which got him thinking back to before you gracefully knocked the crystal ball over with your award winning act. About the two of you, venturing alone, in what he presumes is a dangerous and deadly place. Was that a Cursed Vault? Or perhaps a doorway to it, a room that holds a clue to where it might be. You had taken Bill on an adventure…

Will you be taking him, now?

His eyes then found your form, slumped in one of the beanbags, dozing off. A pang of worry had tugged on his heartstring. You must be so tired, he realised, sleepless. He can only imagine what kinds of nightmares you have about your brother. How painful it must be not knowing where he is. He shuddered at the thought of harm coming to one of his siblings. He would be devastated, a complete mess.

For the rest of the period he thought about you, Jacob, and the Cursed Vaults. His resolve to help you all but became stronger.

The meetups between you two were more frequent. He still mostly conversed with you during Care of Magical Creatures, since it was one of the few classes the two of you had together, but now Divination, instead of being the typical annoying class it used to be, was a thoroughly enjoyed joke fest. Your hello’s, ones that, at the very beginning, were bright and energetic, gradually came to be breathless whispers of ‘…Hi’ accompanied by a lovely smile as you met him in a hall or elsewhere.

He fit in perfectly in your group of misfits. And after nearly half a year of growing closer, it was finally time to explore the Cursed Vault hidden somewhere in the Forbidden Forest. The only problem was locating it, but thankfully, Tulip had snooped around and found a chamber that might contain a map. Bill was supposed to accompany you. That idea did not sit well with Charlie. So after thinking it over, the same night his older brother was supposed to meet you in the dungeons, he had caught him in the Common Room.

It was a clear night, starry. It was four in the morning and only ashes left in the fireplace. The Common Room was void of life, just books scattered, pillows lying on the floor, and blankets messily thrown to the side – they were remnants of activity. Charlie called his brother in a raspy, sleep ridden voice, and Bill had nearly jumped out of his skin, already near the portrait.

“Can I go, instead?” Charlie asked. Bill had frowned, about to question why on earth he would want to, but Charlie quickly interjected, “Please.” He mumbled, “You already went with her…Can you just…give me a chance?”

Surprised and a bit reluctant, Bill had agreed.

That’s how it had happened. Of course, when you had gasped seeing Charlie loitering about the dungeons and not Bill, he had explained to you that “Bill’s busy. Completely forgot about the essay he put away for the last day. Woke me up ten minutes ago, to be honest.”

The dungeons are damp, cold, and quiet. Your footsteps echo off of the walls and short ceiling, almost creating vertigo. It’s dark. No light, just a dim glow of the glossy walls. He can’t make out your face, just your silhouette, and even then only after a while of walking in complete darkness. It is a bit eerie. You can’t afford to shine Lumos – that might give you away. If Snape is even anywhere near these parts, he would surely notice the odd change in lighting.

He grows unease by the minute. You are uncharacteristically quiet. Granted, you might just be scared to speak in case of a spy lurking about, but still, not even a comment? Joke? Inquiry? Completely unlike you, and he knows you well enough by now that you are a chatter box that will argue her way into her grave so having you not whispering or giggling is highly disturbing. He figures you are scared. That’s fine’. He is, too.

“Don’t worry.” His voice never grows higher the sound of your soft footsteps, as his hand, clumsily grasps yours in the dark, “I’m here.”

Your fingers intertwine with his firmly, and he feels warmth spread through his whole body, “You were so silent that I forgot.” You murmur. He practically hears you smiling.

The walk to the secret chamber grows ridiculously short. He feels as if he had just gotten used to feeling your small hand in his when, inevitably, he had to let you go. The passage way had opened with a charm that fell from your lips and a spark from your wand. Once the two of you entered, it closed shut behind you, solid as stone and as if never there to begin with.

The room is airy and cool; a familiar lilac glow illuminates the scarce décor and he has to shut his eyes hurriedly as they sting from the sudden change in lighting, Once he adjusts, he is alert and ready to assist you. He finds you immersed in some letters found in a nearby bin.

“This…” You start, eyeing the papers warily, “Might take a while.”

Charlie shrugs with a sympathetic smile, “I’ve got time.” He assures you.

“Up for some light reading?”

“Define light.”

“Thousands of pages.”

“…Can I skim?”

“If you find the map or at least an allusion to it, you can eat these papers for all I care.”

“Don’t say that to Barnaby. He might be tempted.”

He felt emotionally and physically beaten after thirty minutes or so. The letters you had given him were mostly about books and taxes and other boring things alike, and before long he had sat down onto the ground. There are no seats here, after all, and the floor is hardly the most comfortable, but it beats standing. What is more, he is tired, and sleepy, and if it was not for the pinching cold he is reminded of each time he exhales a puff of smoke, he would surely be snoring.

He notes you squirm after a while. You had been sitting next to him, then away, and then close by again, lastly you had laid down, but even then your attempts were futile. It was painful watching you. So ridden with stress, sleep deprivation, and his feelings for you, he had, without even contemplating, suggested that—

“You can sit in my lap.” That promptly woke him up; choked up, he added, “I already carried you…so…it’s like that. Just…I’m sitting. And it’s cold. I could start a fire, though.” He suggests awkwardly, a bright red blush blooming on his freckled cheeks. You simply stare at him, void of words, the letters between your fingers long forgotten. After a pause, he notes you blush like a rose and nod shakily. You pick yourself off of the ground – and the letters that spill from your grasp – and make your way to him. He watches you approach with a racing heart. Merlin, why can’t he be cool and collected like Bill is?!

Your body is like a furnace, heating his frosted fingers and making him smile shyly into your shoulder. His arms wrap around your waist and your back hits his chest. You hurriedly pull the parchment to hide your face, and he wonders can you even read anything from so close. He catches a whiff of your perfume and his heart skips a beat. Really, this was not a good idea. How will he focus now?!

“…Hey…Charlie?” You squeak. He clears his throat.

“Yes, (Name)?”

“You know… The Yule Ball is coming up, and I…wasn’t planning on going, but...” You tilt your head to get a look at him; once your eye meets his, your lips quirk upwards into a lovely smile, “If…you wanted to go…”

“I best get my suit ready, then.” He grins at you, squeezing you closer. With a pleased smile you turn back to the letters, “But…shouldn’t I be the one to ask you?”

“Were you going to?”

“Well…no—“

“My point exactly.”

 BONUS:

The windows are dotted with snowflakes; outside a storm rages over the castle, icy wind howling. A glimpse of it can be caught once doors open. It is usually Hagrid carrying Christmas decorations, or an occasional pine tree.  Festive music echoes in the halls. The students whisper amongst themselves what they will do on holiday, who they will invite to the dance. The atmosphere is sweet and gleeful. Couples in love use the odd mistletoe to smooch and be screamed at by Prefects and teachers alike.

It’s late in the evening and you had just picked up some Potions books from the Library once you ran into Bill. If you hadn’t known any better, you’d say he was waiting for you to emerge. You greet him with a smile as you pull the heavy tombs closer to your chest. He returns the grin with a nervous twitch, and falls into step with you. The two of you chat the whole way to the staircase leading to the dungeons, where you stop to give him a quick hug. Once you turn to leave he calls after you, breathless, a question leaving his lips.

“Do you want to go to the Yule Ball with me?”

You freeze in place. Gulping, a tad saddened to be the bearer of bad news, you look at him helplessly, offering an apologetic smile, “Oh, I’m sorry, Bill…But…Someone already asked me…” You admit, “And I said yes.”

His face crumbles a bit, but he soon glosses over the obvious hurt of rejection with a cheery, “Oh! Well, save me a dance, then. Catch you later?”

“I’m sorry, Bill—“

But he’s already on his way back to the Gryffindor Common Room.

 requests:  can you do a cute lil charlie weasley x mc?? it can be about anything tbh,, i just love him so much and i adore your writing!!! /  Your “won’t he?” gave me soooo many feelings! In the part 1 I saw you hint (sort of) a Charlie/Reader. I love Charlie since forever, so could you write a OS with him, pretty please? /  HEY ITS ME THE CHARLIE/MC ANON IVE HEAD REQUESTS ARE OPEN gfgfhg so if its really ok to request what about charlie with the biggest crush on mc ( a slytherin girl like in won't he? ) and just. he is such a dork. idek what to write im too excited just plz gimme lovesick charlie fghgh /  OMGGGG YOUR HOWARTS MYSTERY FANFICS ARE SO GOOD ITS JUST..AHH! SO SO CUTE! BUT broke my heart with bill, i do love felix ❤❤❤ but what if you try write a what if bill did tell her how he felt?? or more a one shot where charlie finally got the guts to talk and spend time with mc??? its all so good i cant wait for more! /  Heyyy can you write a Charlie Weasley from hogwarts mystery please? /  can we please get some charlie weasley fics going ? or one shots ? 😩 hphm charlie has me head over heels 😭

forever tags: @scarletraine- @brahwhytho- @smilesfromabove- @pharaohkiller - @victoriaelvendorkweasley-@onehellofdevilotaku- @eyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy- @phillipas00- @xxcrowfeatherxx- @cupcakestyleshood- @invisibilityrocks- @nephalem67 - @chwechwechwe - @porpentyna - @lesbianheartbreaker - @banjosanjo - @madswheelers - @sombodymaybeawatson - @disneyfanatic77 - @superanonymousreader - @aliypop​ - @slytherinyour-chambers - @onehellofdevilotaku - @victoriaelvendorkweasley - @pharaohkiller - @smilesfromabove - @brahwhytho - @scarletraine

[la-anarchy]

1-92 😏😏

well fuck me anon lmao thanks guess ill get to it hahahah

1. Would you have sex with the last person you text messaged? - ugh yea fuck it i prob would

2. You talked to an ex today, correct? - nope i did not

3. Have you taken someones virginity? - I have

4. Is trust a big issue for you? - It is

5. Did you hang out with the person you like recently? -nope

6. What are you excited for? - country fest on july 5th

7. What happened tonight? - went to my friends and played with his baby daughter

8. Do you think it’s disgusting when girls get really wasted? - not if its not an every day thing

9. Is confidence cute? - of course

10. What is the last beverage you had? - whiskey and coke

11. How many people of the opposite sex do you fully trust?- honestly not many

12. Do you own a pair of skinny jeans? - lmao nah

13. What are you gonna do Saturday night? - ummm im not sure really prob gym and drink

14. What are you going to spend money on next? - um gas

15. Are you going out with the last person you kissed? - lmao no (also havent kissed anyone in months)

16. Do you think you’ll change in the next 3 months? - I mean i guess so probably

17. Who do you feel most comfortable talking to about anything? - my best friend kinda

18. The last time you felt broken? - about a week ago

19. Have you had sex today? - nope its been almost 10 months

20. Are you starting to realize anything? - oh yea

21. Are you in a good mood? - I am

22. Would you ever want to swim with sharks? - sure fuck it

23. Are your eyes the same color as your dad’s? - yes

24. What do you want right this second? - i could go for some cuddles or rough sex.. both ?

25. What would you say if the person you love/like kissed another girl/boy? - i dont know honestly

26. Is your current hair color your natural hair color? - yes

27. Would you be able to date someone who doesn’t make you laugh? - no i dont think so

28. What was the last thing that made you laugh? - my friends baby

29. Do you really, truly miss someone right now? - always

30. Does everyone deserve a second chance? - maybe not in the way they always want

31. Honestly, do you hate the last boy you were talking to? - na hes a good friend now

32. Does the person you have feelings for right now, know you do? - yea id say so

33. Are you one of those people who never drinks soda? - no but i try to not drink it

34. Listening to? - king of the hill

35. Do you ever write in pencil anymore?- yes

36. Do you know where the last person you kissed is?- i have a good idea

37. Do you believe in love at first sight? - no

38. Who did you last call? - my best friend

39. Who was the last person you danced with? - my ex

40. Why did you kiss the last person you kissed? - we broke up and it was like a good bye kiss 

41. When was the last time you ate a cupcake? - i really dont know lol

42. Did you hug/kiss one of your parents today? - yes

43. Ever embarrass yourself in front of a crush? - probably

44. Do you tan in the nude? - sometimes

45. If you could, would you take back your last kiss? -like as in not kiss the person, no i wouldnt take it back

46. Did you talk to someone until you fell asleep last night? - nope

47. Who was the last person to call you? - my friend

48. Do you sing in the shower? - every time

49. Do you dance in the car? - hell yea

50. Ever used a bow and arrow? - yurp

51. Last time you got a portrait taken by a photographer? - the Marine Corps ball52. Do you think musicals are cheesy? - nah

53. Is Christmas stressful? - hahha yea

54. Ever eat a pierogi? - yes?

55. Favorite type of fruit pie? - peach or blueberry56. Occupations you wanted to be when you were a kid? -actor, doctor, teach, Marine, cop

57. Do you believe in ghosts? - yea i think i do

58. Ever have a Deja-vu feeling? - yea i used to a lot when i was a kid

59. Take a vitamin daily? - nope

60. Wear slippers? - only during the winter

61. Wear a bath robe? - i used to

62. What do you wear to bed? during the summer just boxers but in the winter pj pants and a Tee

63. First concert? - Brittany Spears lmao

64. Wal-Mart, Target or Kmart? - wal-mart or target

65. Nike or Adidas? - ariat lamo but i guess nike

66. Cheetos Or Fritos? - cheetos

67. Peanuts or Sunflower seeds? - peanuts

68. Favorite Taylor Swift song? - ummmm idk the name of it but i did like one of her old “country” songs

69. Ever take dance lessons? - not professional but i did take a few line dancing ones and my ex was a dance teacher and she tried to teach me some moves

70. Is there a profession you picture your future spouse doing?- i wanna become a cop now that ive already become a Marine

71. Can you curl your tongue? - yes

72. Ever won a spelling bee? - once i was 5

73. Have you ever cried because you were so happy? - yes

74. What is your favorite book? - um i have a lot of favorites

75. Do you study better with or without music? - without

76. Regularly burn incense? - candles sometimes

77. Ever been in love? - yes

78. Who would you like to see in concert? - i really wanna see luke combs and upchurch haha

79. What was the last concert you saw? -ummmm i think it was FLGAL

80. Hot tea or cold tea? - cold

81. Tea or coffee? - coffee

82. Favorite type of cookie? - chocolate chip or peanut butter

83. Can you swim well? - yes

84. Can you hold your breath without holding your nose? - yes

85. Are you patient? - sure haha

86. DJ or band, at a wedding? - DJ

87. Ever won a contest? - yes

88. Ever have plastic surgery? - no

89. Which are better black or green olives?- black

90. Opinions on sex before marriage? - all the sex

91. Best room for a fireplace? - family room, basement, or if you got a big ass bedroom

92. Do you want to get married? - very much so

[eyesaremosaics]

Can you make a post about reincarnation? Also, do you remember any of your past lives? You have mentioned it briefly before, very curious to hear your thoughts! I can't remember mine

Hi anon, apologies for the delay in my response. I know this took over three months for me to answer… It’s just that there is so much to say about the subject. It’s a very broad spectrum that we are dealing with. In regards to past lives, how far down the rabbit hole do you want to go?

There are many different cultures/belief systems/philosophies and religions that have unique interpretations of reincarnation and how/why it manifests. Buddhism sees it differently from Hinduism for example. If you are curious about those specifically here are some links to explore:

http://www.buddhanet.net/e-learning/reincarnation.htmhttps://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rebirth_(Buddhism)

In short: Tibetan Buddhism holds that there are two ways that someone can take rebirth after death. The first is to be reborn involuntarily, under the sway of ‘karma’, drawn back to life by destructive emotions and desires. This is the fate of most of us. A few, select others, through the power of compassion and prayer to benefit others, are believed to be able to choose their place and time of birth as well as their parents.

Hinduism:

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reincarnationhttp://www.hinduwebsite.com/reincarnation.asp

In short: Hindus believe the self or soul (atman) repeatedly takes on a physical body, until moksha. There is no permanent heaven or hell in Hinduism. In the afterlife, based on one’s karma, the soul is reborn as another being in heaven, hell, or a living being on earth (human, animal).

As aforementioned in previous posts throughout the years, I went through a period of devout atheism during my teen years and early twenties. A series of unexplainable events led me to the beliefs I have today. Apart from being a very spiritual child, without anyone impressing it upon me, I had a series of supernatural experiences that shook me to the core.

My mother says when I was two years old, I used to say things to her like: “remember last time? When I was the mom and you were the kid? I liked that better.”

The creepiest instance in my case, I have mentioned on this blog before. I had this reoccurring nightmare since I was three years old, that I was a grown woman–not a child–and I was on fire. I ran to the window to call for help, and I tangled in these dark velvet curtains and burned to death. I was too young to fully comprehend the dream, and I never told anyone about it.

My whole life I was unnaturally petrified of Fire. Most children learn through experience that fire is “hot”, I was always terrified of it. I KNEW it hurt. I would scream and cry around candles, incense, matches lighters etc. spitting on the wick after blowing out the tiny flames, throwing flammable items in the sink, or out into the street.

My grandmother, being fed up with all of this, finally confronted me at age eleven. In an irritable tone she asked: “do you know why you are afraid of fire?” Stunned, o shook my head slowly before she continued: “during the civil war, you were waiting for your husband to come home, your oil lamp knocked over and caught your skirt on fire. You ran to the window to call for help, and you tangled in the curtains and you burned to death.”

How could she know that?

In that rich color and detail? When I had never told a soul about that dream.

In middle school, I had nightmares about being burned at the stake as a witch. People chanting “witch! Witch!” Over and over… Throwing more wood on the pyre, as I choked on the smoke through screams of agony.

This feeling of persecution followed me all my life. Never fitting in anywhere. Always being “different” from everyone else. I always felt that when I walked into a social situation that everyone hated me by default. That I had to prove my worth to them. I also had a lifetime as a leper. Being shunned and diseased. Deformed and decaying as I lived and breathed. I am convinced this is where my self karma around victimization stems from in my previous lives. I incarnated into this life with the intention of working through/healing this within my being.

Certain people… I met and immediately KNEW them. Almost as though I had been waiting for themto show up. As though we had known each other for forever. Time stops when you meet those in your soul collective. The ones you choose to incarnate with again and again to resolve karmic lessons and aid in one another’s expansion.

There is a book I read about ten years ago, that was given to me by my grandmother called: “the Michael teaching”. This book can only be purchased online, and was written by a rather unusual couple. They married and both transitioned genders throughout the course of their marriage. They both channel, and this book is a dictation from the entity known as “Michael”.

This entity is a collection of over a thousand souls who have all cycled off the physical plane to the next realm of consciousness. The physical is the lowest level, but the most tangible. Our lessons here in the physical reality (wether you believe in other planets, parallel universes or what have you) is to learn separateness. We come from the Tao (love/source consciousness/universe) to learn to individuate, and experience the tiny fractal of unique experience which is our soul.

Once you have learned all you can about separateness, you go on to the next cycle of experience. If I remember correctly the astral plane is next (the place that you go when you dream). Abstract concepts can be explored here, as well as merging with other souls. Generally a group of souls from the same “collective” come together to learn a series of lessons, before going on the the next cycle of experience.

There are 5-7 cycles in total I believe, and the last is becoming one with the universe again. So the whole thing was a cycle of experience in itself. This teaching always stuck out to me, it resonated because they presented the information unbiased. They distinctly said: “blind faith will not help you grow. We are merely presenting information from the perspective of the astral plane as we currently experience it. Take what works for you, and leave what doesn’t.” Which I really liked.

At the time I was very atheistic, and that book exposed me to unique concepts about energy, different “roles” we take on here in the physical plane, and the deep layers of the process of reincarnation. There is so much information on the subject, I could not possibly include it all in this post. A general overview of soul age as I understand it is:

Infant soul: these souls incarnate with the soul purpose of survival. In smaller scale food foraging societies, or third world countries where it is man vs. nature. Also the souls of animals and lower life forms are explored at this soul age.

Baby soul: a baby soul is primarily concerned with following the rules. They are just getting the bearings of independent consciousness and want for very little. These are simple souls, who are easily herded to a cause, or manipulated by stronger personalities. Their life lesson is to think for themselves, and begin to foster a greeter sense of personal identity.

Young souls: we live in a primarily young soul society. America is a prime example. Bigger, better, faster, stronger. What you have is what you are. Their primary concern is power. People obsessed with fame, validation, vanity, or any superficial pursuit is adhering to young soul mentality. Their lesson is to exert power and distinction over others. To solidify their identity. It is in this period that they begin to create karma with other souls. Wounding and impacting them with selfishness. People who start war are always young souls. They are not in touch with their inner world or their emotions, and have little understanding of empathy. If they do, it is only as an extension of their own egoic state.

Mature souls: at this soul age you experience your heaviest karmas. Mature souls are all about the “drama” or heightened reality. They live in states of turmoil and extremity. This is the soul age where you will experience a terminal illness like AIDS or cancer. All the heavy repercussions and self reflection that come with this experience. This is the soul age where you will experience a lot of death, trauma etc. where you will become a drug addict, a criminal, a victim. It all serves your expansion, to learn both sides of the coin. The winner and the loser. The victim and the perpetrator.

Old soul: an old soul has already learned all the basics of consciousness, how to solidify its identity, and all heightened possibilities of experience, now it is tying off loose ends. The old soul feels out of place. They have great wisdom from seemingly nowhere, and are often highly intuitive and empathic beings. They resolve all their karmic debts to souls from past lives. They work through the heavy traumas and let them go through expansion. The more they learn, the less identified they become with the physical realm. When their lessons are complete, they return to the universal consciousness. Often old souls feel they do not belong here.

Within each soul age are more levels. Seven actually, but you will have to read the book if you intend to go deeper with this understanding. So a person can be a level two mature soul, but still have young soul tendencies (ex. Have a lot of heavy trauma in their life which gives them depth, but a visceral need to become internet famous to validate their self worth. Or an early level old soul, can still carry a lot of the “drama” fromThe transition)

My understanding is that the universe is a living organism, that the objective of the universe is to expand and discover layers within layers of experience. To learn every possible facet (seen and unseen) until it implodes on itself and starts a new system. That it is continuously in a state of being and becoming.

A soul has very much the same experience, and when it is done with the physical reality it moves on to another set of lessons. Just as there are other realms/dimensions, your soul would pass on to explore these deeper and deeper before returning to the universe itself. Becoming one.

Past life retrieval can be done through guided meditation or hypnosis, though I highly recommend doing your research on spiritualists/psychics/Mystics in your area who specialize in soul retrieval to be sure you are not being overcharged or conned.

It is possible to retrieve past lives on your own. Generally children are more connected to the organic experience of remembering these lifetimes without any effort as they are the closest to source energy. There are videos on YouTube you can try, books you can read, and hypnotherapist’s you can see.

If you have an irrational fear–generally that comes from past life trauma. If you are innately drawn to a place, or a particular time period, that is most likely an association from a past life as well. Anything you experienced in your past lives that was good, will be reflected in your preferences in this lifetime. Everything negative from past lives, will come up in this one to be resolved. Though some lessons take multiple lifetimes to learn or complete.

Sometimes relationships abruptly end for no reason, and are continued in the next lifetime. The average lifetime of one human being doesn’t even scratch the surface of omnipresent time. Time doesn’t exist in linear form in this universe. It is a man made construct to measure our existence in relationship to our limited concept of the universe. In reality, there is so much we don’t know.

I have this intuition in me that tells me parallel realities do exist. Of course I could be wrong, and I am always open to being challenged, I just tend to trust my gut as it is usually never wrong. This is a complicated concept to be explored, but one that would help support the theory of reincarnation were it true. That one could live several potentialities of existence simultaneously in parallel dimensions. Does that mean they are all aspects of the same state? That the same soul is existing in multiple realities at once to experience the prism of existence more fully?

The evidence to this would be dreaming. Scientists are at a loss when it comes to understanding dreams. Why we have them, where they come from, what they really are and what they mean. One of life’s many great mysteries. In my personal experience, my dreams have foretold the future as well as reflecting aspects of whatever is going on at the time. Most people in the spiritual field and in agreement that your spirit leaves your body to travel to the astral realm when you dream.

According to the Michael teaching, that is the next level of consciousness, just above the physical.

Below are some videos/documentaries/accounts revolving around the concept of reincarnation. These have been many “cried wolf” stories that have been disproved through the years, but there have also been multiple documented cases where a child knew exactly who they were, where and how they died, and we even able to contact old family members and tell them memories that only the deceased person would have.

5th Dimension: Reincarnationhttps://youtu.be/xak1qUhcyTg

Past lives: Stories of Reincarnation https://youtu.be/J0SZp4zI0gU

10 reincarnation stories that will open your mind: https://youtu.be/lwjmJtBphwc

Children’s past liveshttps://youtu.be/Uq8l4XVfgPA

If there were any questions I failed to answer in regards to this subject, feel free to ask.

[pantestudines]

Admit everything you booty

who you calling a booty anon you a booty1. Would you have sex with the last person you text messaged?Yeah2. You talked to an ex today, correct?Haven’t talked to my ex for a while3. Have you taken someones virginity?Dude I wish4. Is trust a big issue for you?YEAh5. Did you hang out with the person you like recently?MMM no not recently6. What are you excited for?College7. What happened tonight?I relaxed, for once. 8. Do you think it’s disgusting when girls get really wasted?I kinda think its bad when anyone gets really wasted tbh9. Is confidence cute?i mean yeah but also the opposite can be true sometimes10. What is the last beverage you had?lemonade11. How many people of the opposite sex do you fully trust?With my anxiety? None... but I want too12. Do you own a pair of skinny jeans?Dont fit me13. What are you gonna do Saturday night?DnD if i get my homework done14. What are you going to spend money on next?Either a Pocket Trumpet or a Nintendo Switch15. Are you going out with the last person you kissed?Never kissed anyone... 16. Do you think you’ll change in the next 3 months?Hopefully17. Who do you feel most comfortable talking to about anything?MMM a few people18. The last time you felt broken?cant remember19. Have you had sex today?HAHAHA thats funny20. Are you starting to realize anything?I need to change 21. Are you in a good mood?Eh22. Would you ever want to swim with sharks?Sure, depending on species. 23. Are your eyes the same color as your dad’s?Uhhhh I think? 24. What do you want right this second?Someone to love? 25. What would you say if the person you love/like kissed another girl/boy?Uh, at this point there isn’t much I could be mad about im not in a relationship26. Is your current hair color your natural hair color?Yeah27. Would you be able to date someone who doesn’t make you laugh?Probably not28. What was the last thing that made you laugh?Idk29. Do you really, truly miss someone right now?Kinda yeah30. Does everyone deserve a second chance?A few people do31. Honestly, do you hate the last boy you were talking to?My cousin? Nah he’s cool32. Does the person you have feelings for right now, know you do?Uhhhhhh I think so? 33. Are you one of those people who never drinks soda?NO its my vice 34. Listening to?John Oliver video’s 35. Do you ever write in pencil anymore?Try to avoid it36. Do you know where the last person you kissed is?They don’t exist37. Do you believe in love at first sight?EH kinda? not entirely instant but quick maybe38. Who did you last call?I dont remember39. Who was the last person you danced with?I dont think Ive danced with anyone either40. Why did you kiss the last person you kissed?I didn’t. 41. When was the last time you ate a cupcake?Two days ago. 42. Did you hug/kiss one of your parents today?no, parents dont hug much. 43. Ever embarrass yourself in front of a crush?Prob44. Do you tan in the nude?I dont tan, except at camp, and even then its not on purpose45. If you could, would you take back your last kiss?Well thats presuming a lot46. Did you talk to someone until you fell asleep last night?Uhhhh yeah actually47. Who was the last person to call you?Idk48. Do you sing in the shower?nah49. Do you dance in the car?nah50. Ever used a bow and arrow?Yeah but I suck at it51. Last time you got a portrait taken by a photographer?never? 52. Do you think musicals are cheesy?Nah I love em53. Is Christmas stressful?not really54. Ever eat a pierogi?A what now? 55. Favorite type of fruit pie?Can I say chocolate56. Occupations you wanted to be when you were a kid?PALEONTOLOGIST (also still trying to be it now) 57. Do you believe in ghosts?Kinda...? 58. Ever have a Deja-vu feeling?Too Often59. Take a vitamin daily?nah60. Wear slippers?nah61. Wear a bath robe?nah62. What do you wear to bed?T-Shirt and Underwear63. First concert?Boy Scout centennial. 64. Wal-Mart, Target or Kmart?Target65. Nike or Adidas?Northwest66. Cheetos Or Fritos?CHEETOS67. Peanuts or Sunflower seeds?Sunflowerseeds68. Favorite Taylor Swift song?N/A69. Ever take dance lessons?Took one tap dance lesson and almost cried I was so bad at it70. Is there a profession you picture your future spouse doing?Me B)71. Can you curl your tongue?Yeah72. Ever won a spelling bee?No73. Have you ever cried because you were so happy?No i dont cry often74. What is your favorite book?my 1927 boy scout handbook75. Do you study better with or without music?Don’t study76. Regularly burn incense?nah77. Ever been in love?... would it be heartless to say no even though ive been in a relationship? 78. Who would you like to see in concert?Chumbawumba or Johnathon Coulton. 79. What was the last concert you saw?Haven’t. 80. Hot tea or cold tea?Blegh81. Tea or coffee?BLEGH82. Favorite type of cookie?Lofthouse or really soft chocolate chip83. Can you swim well?Moderately so84. Can you hold your breath without holding your nose?Yeah??? Who cant?85. Are you patient?No86. DJ or band, at a wedding?Band, I’ll join in87. Ever won a contest?Probably idk88. Ever have plastic surgery?No89. Which are better black or green olives?None 90. Opinions on sex before marriage?A) Why not, go for it B) can I have it91. Best room for a fireplace?Living room92. Do you want to get married?Probably