#I say as I am known as the gift card giver. I will NOT gift you that specific item you want.

[iero]

Officially started Christmas shopping today…

[acacia-may]

Happy birthday in advance 💚💙! For your little event, can I ask 💝 for Fuegoleon, 💌 for Noelle, 🎈 for Nozel and 🎉 for Vanessa, please?

Hello! Thank you so much for the birthday wishes and for your patience! I apologize that it has taken me so long to answer your headcanons ask, but I hope you will still like these! 😊

Headcanons below the cut! Questions from the Birthday Headcanons Ask Game

Fuegoleon Vermillion

💝 — What sort of presents do they most like to give to their loved ones for their birthdays? How much thought do they put into their gifts?

Fuegoleon is a very thoughtful gift giver and always puts a lot of thought into his presents. Though he is royalty and can certainly afford lavish presents for his loved ones, he would prefer to find something that will be meaningful to them rather than just expensive. As he is a very detail oriented person, he will often pick up on and pay attention to the little things that his loved ones like or show interest in, and he tries to choose gifts based on that (which will often come as a surprise to the recipient, garnering excited "how did you know?" reactions). Fuegoleon also tends to choose practical gifts over simply decorative ones when he can and prefers to give gifts that will last and that the recipient will get a lot of use out of. (For instance, he often gives books as gifts).

Noelle Silva

💌 — How much do they generally write in birthday cards? Is it usually a fairly generic message or personalized? Something short but heartfelt or something very lengthy and detailed?

Noelle wants to write thoughtful messages in birthday cards, but she struggles when it comes to expressing her feelings and how much someone means to her in words. She has been known to rewrite her birthday cards multiple times trying to craft the perfect, heartfelt message for her loved one, often getting frustrated when she stumbles over her words and crumpling up the card and starting over. In the end, her determination tends to win out, and though she'll probably never be the type to write a long, detailed expression of how much she cares in a card, she will write something personal and definitely more heartfelt than what she could/would say if she was just talking to her loved ones (perhaps something along the lines of "Happy Birthday. You are such an inspiration to me, and I am so blessed to have you as my friend."). Her birthday wishes to the ones closest to her are a bit short, but they are very heartfelt and genuine.

Nozel Silva

🎈— What’s one of their fondest and/or best birthday memories?

One of Nozel's fondest birthday memories was from one of the earliest birthdays he can remember. His mother, Acier, was always a bit more down-to-earth and free-spirited than the rest of the Clover Kingdom royalty and (perhaps a bit scandalously) wanted to try to bake a birthday cake for her son herself. It didn't turn out as well as some of his more lavish, professionally baked and decorated birthday cakes, but it meant so much to Nozel that his mother had taken the time to make that for him (even though she really didn't have to). To this day, he looks back on this as one of the most treasured memories he got to share with his mother, and though (of course) he couldn't keep the cake itself, he does still have the candles his mother had gotten for it. If he has children of his own one day, one of his secret dreams (even if it is a bit undignified) is to one day try to bake them a birthday cake himself, just like his mother had done for him, and use the same candles. He doubts any cake he could make could turn out nearly as well as his mother's had, however. 💕

Vanessa Enoteca

🎉 — Do they like surprise parties? Would they want one and/or would they throw one for someone else?

Vanessa absolutely loves surprise parties and surprises in general! She would love one but would likely be very difficult to surprise since she is so naturally intuitive (and a lot of her friends are terrible liars). The Black Bulls would probably have to send her away on a mission, plan the party while she was gone, then host the party immediately when she returned in order to manage to actually surprise her. Even if she caught onto their plans, she would do her best to pretend to be surprised for their sake and would definitely be incredibly touched that her loved ones tried to surprise her.

Vanessa would also adore getting to throw a surprise party for someone else. (This might even be more fun for her than actually being the surprise party recipient). She has lots of fun ideas for parties and can actually be fairly organized when she wants to be, so any surprise party she put together would likely be a blast! She can also actually keep a secret so her friend would absolutely be surprised! 😁

(A/N: My personal headcanon is that Vanessa's first ever birthday party was a (chaotic and disorganized but well-meaning and sweet) surprise party Yami, Finral, and Gordon (with a little help from Henry) threw together for her for her first birthday with the Black Bulls. I actually wrote about it here, as part of my Early Black Bulls series, so I might be a little bit biased, but, yes, I absolutely adore the idea of Vanessa loving surprise parties🥰).

[just-a-bit-of-a-nerd]

baby umbrella 2 (CHRISTMAS SPECIAL)

AN: I hope you enjoy, this took me 3 days to finish so it’s kinda long. Enjoy!

Summary: Y/n tries to help her uncles and aunt have an amazing Christmas to make up for all the bad ones.

I woke up extra early the next morning. 

Like 5 am early.

Now I usually don’t do this but I had important shit to do.

See I am known for being the best gift giver ever. 

I know exactly what people like and I take note of things they enjoy.

And I’ve been saving my allowance even more than I usually do for everyone.

Like I got Uncle Luther a gift card to his favorite diner as well as a cookbook cause I know he likes to try cooking new things with Sloane. 

For Sloane I got her a new camera and scrapbook because I know she’s into arts and crafts.

For dad, I got him a new set of throwing knives he’s been looking at but refuses to buy cause he’s weird.

For aunt Allison I got her a new pair of boots that I thought she’d like. 

 And I got Claire an Aladdin doll set because that’s her favorite movie at the moment.

Got uncle Klaus a nail art set that I also have because he always talks about how jealous he is that I have one and he doesn’t whenever we do our nails.

And I got Viktor new violin strings as well as a watch he’s been wanting.

Now there’s one more person who I haven’t bought for yet.

Uncle fucking Five.

He never talks about his likes or interests at all.

The only thing I could think to get him was fucking coffee.

Which can’t be a gift on its own so I have no clue what to get him. 

I don’t just wanna get him clothes, his favorite coffee place Griddy’s closed down so I can’t get him a gift card from there, I can’t JUST get him coffee, he already has a stash somewhere in this house. 

And I can’t ask anyone for help because then that person would know that I’m buying something for everyone and I want that to be a secret. 

So I’m stuck and I only have $40 more dollars to spare and less than 24 hours.

This isn’t fucking good.

I get ready as quickly and quietly as possible then I get online and do the stupidest thing ever. 

I go to google and look up ‘what to get my grandpa for Christmas’.

And that was absolutely no help and it made me feel stupid. 

I decided to go downstairs and get something to drink before I wallow in panic.

When I get downstairs I see the one and only Five Hargreeves drinking coffee as always.

“What are you doing up so early?” he asks as I walk over to the fridge.

“The excitement of the holidays awoke me,” I lied/joked, “what about you?” I ask as I come sit next to him with a glass of orange juice.

“Can’t sleep,” he answered, taking a sip of coffee.

“And is that because you have sleeping problems or because you drink exactly 30 cups of coffee daily?” I asked.

“Probably both,” he answers looking down. 

I tilt my head in confusion, “why do you think you have sleeping problems?” I asked him to take a sip of my own drink.

“Probably the apocalypse,”  he starts, “it was different falling asleep there obviously, I guess I just got used to it and now it’s weird trying to fall asleep without it.”

I stop to think for a minute before asking, “What are some things that make it different, if you don't mind me asking,” I add that last part in fear of getting too personal.

“No it’s okay, and I don’t know,” he begins to explain, “one I didn’t have a bed but if anything having the bed now helps really. But there was this…sound I guess. Like an end of the world sound, it was like the crackling of fire and wind and rain and…lots of stuff. Back then I found it all annoying but now I see it’s kinda what helped me sleep.”

That was it. That’s what I’m gonna get Five. A sound generator or whatever. Now I just need to find out when and where to get it. 

“Well I hope your sleep schedule goes back to normal soon,” I say like I’m not hatching a plan to do just that at the moment.

“Yeah me too,” he answers, then uncle Viktor walks in.

“Y/n? What are you doing up this early,” he asks as he takes the orange juice from me and pours himself a glass.

“Holiday excitement,” I give a similar answer to what I gave Five and he just nods. 

“Are you excited about the holidays too Five?” Viktor asks as he looks up at Five.

“Oh yeah I’m overjoyed,” he answers sarcastically.

“Wouldn’t expect anything less,” he replies.

-time skip- 

It’s like 7 now and I need to find out how I can get outta here so I can finish my shopping.

“Hey dad can I go and pick up some flour? We’re all out and I wanted to try out this Christmas cookie recipe,” I tried and he looked at me like I was crazy.

“Alone?” he asked and I nodded.

“Very funny, no,” he answers and starts to walk away.

“Come on dad you know I can take care of myself,” I beg as I follow him, “I can move things with my mind and you even said my fighting is getting better, and it’s 7 in the morning. Kidnappers don’t roam around until at least noon.”

“You’re not allowed to leave the house alone, you know that,” he argues.

“Well I’m gonna be all by myself at school,” I pointed out, “whatcha gonna do then?”

“When school starts I’m gonna drop you off and pick you up, and you won’t be alone during the school day so you’ll be fine,” he concludes.

“What are you guys arguing about?” Uncle Viktor asks.

“Viktor!” I exclaim, “could you please explain to my father that I am fully capable of walking across the street to pick up flour for 5 minutes.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with that,” he agrees with me and I smile.

“See,” I say as I turn back to my father, “Father, papa, daddy dearest, I love you but you can be a little clingy sometimes,” I explain to him.

“I don’t care what he,” he points at Viktor, “you,” he points at me, “or anyone listening in thinks, You. Aren’t. Going. Alone.”

“What if I took her?” Viktor speaks up, “ I mean come on Diego it’s just flour that she could get alone but if you’re gonna be that way I’ll just take her.”

“I’m gonna ignore the last part of your sentence and say yeah, you can take her,” he agrees and I mentally facepalm.

Awesome, I can go but I’m gonna have to go with someone who can’t know the real reason I need to go.

Perfect.

“Cool, you okay with that Y/n?” he asks and I just nod, “Alright then let's go,” he motions his hands to follow me and I do.

We get in the car and he starts driving.

“I can’t believe he doesn’t trust me enough to get flour,” I complained.

“It’s not you he doesn’t trust Y/n,” he explains, “it’s the world.”

“Well I’m gonna be living in it alone in at least 5 years time,” I reasoned, “will 18 year old Y/n need one of her uncles to take her to the store?” I ask and Viktor chuckles.

“No you won’t, but Y/n,” his smile fades, he’s getting serious now, “you’re still a kid, and he has good reason to be over protective, he had to see how losing Claire affected Allison, he spent 2 months not knowing where you were, and then he did lose you. But he was lucky enough to get you back, so if I were him I’d be the same. And I know it’s annoying for you to deal with but try not to be too mad at him for his clinginess,” he finishes and I nod.

“Yeah I know,” I confess, “but I forget when he does stuff like this.”

“It’s easy to forget,” he agrees, “just remember afterwards”

I nod and the rest of the ride is us talking about nothing too important.

Once we get there Viktor grabs a cart and walks up to me, “There’s some other stuff I need to get while we’re here so we’ll get the flour once we get close to it,” he explains and I smirk.

“Or could you give me a tiny taste of freedom and I’ll grab the flour while you get the stuff you need and we’ll meet by self checkout?” I question and he thinks about it before nodding.

“Okay, just don’t do anything stupid,” he gives in and I mentally celebrate.

I walk to the direction of the flour and when I see Viktors not looking anymore I run to the sleep aisle. 

“Sleep machine sleep machine sleep machine,” I repeat to myself until I find one for $14.99.

“Bingo,” I exclaim as I pick it up, I start to run out of the aisle when something catches my eye.

It was a dream catcher for only like $8. I didn’t really know if they work but just in case I get it for him. Whether Five admits it or not I know he’s gotta have nightmares after all the shit he’s been through. Hell I get em and haven’t gone through half of that.

I run to self checkout and quickly pay for the items then run to the entrance. I look for our car and once I find it I make the bag float into it. Earning a few dazed looks, but I could care less. Once it was in there I ran to the flour aisle, grabbed whatever was cheapest, then ran back to self checkout where Viktor was waiting for me.

“Hey, you get what you need?” I asked and he nodded.

“I also got these cookie cutters for your cookies,” he said as he showed them to me and I smiled.

“Wait, do we have baking powder and vanilla at home?” I asked him, yes there was an actual recipe that I found just to make this more believable. 

“Um baking powder, yes, vanilla I’m not sure about,” he answered.

“I’ll go grab some,” I told him as I put the flour in the cart.

I ran to get some vanilla. Once I got back we paid for our stuff then left to go home.

I put the flour and vanilla on the counter and Viktor takes his stuff to his room. I then run up to my room and open my window. My window is on the side of the house where we park our car. Once I see the car I use my power to make the bag with Fives stuff float up to me, again earning weird looks. Once it’s close enough I grab it and hide it in my closet. I’ll wrap it later.

When I’m done with all that I go down stairs to try and find everyone which most of them are in the kitchen.

“Hey, do you guys wanna help me make cookies?” I ask.

“I do!” Claire shouted excitedly as she ran up to me.

“Same,” Sloane spoke up and then everyone agreed and we got everything out.

First we added butter, then sugar, vanilla, and an egg.

Once we did that the recipe called for 3 cups of flour which Klaus begged to pour.

And he did, but after that he didn’t support the bottom of the bag and flour spilled out everywhere.

“Klaus! You have to support the bag!” Luther shouted as I died laughing.

“It’s like snow mommy!” Claire exclaimed as she jumped into the flour.

“Claire no!” Allison yelled but it was too late.

“I’m gonna make a snowball,” she declared as she picked up some flour and tried her best to shape it into a ball, and when she got it close enough she threw it at Diego.

“Hey!” he shouted and if anyone thought I was dying before, I was now. He then rolled his eyes and picked up a clump of flour from the floor and threw it at me, making me gasp.

“Oh it’s on Batman,” I challenge as I pick up flour and throw it right at his face, some flying past him and hitting Luther. 

“Hey!” he shouts doing the same to me.

Then all hell breaks loose.

 Within 5 minutes there’s flour absolutely everywhere and the cookies were long forgotten until Five walks in the room.

“Hey Idiots!” he yells and everyone stops and looks at him.

“Get this mess away from my coffee machine,” he finishes as he goes to pour another cup.

“Yeah we should probably start cleaning up,” Luther suggest and everyone agrees.

-time skip-

After we cleaned up and finished the cookies it was getting dark. I went up to my room and wrapped Fives gift then I brought the rest out of their hiding place. Now my plan was to wait til everyone was asleep then I’d sneak the gifts downstairs and put them under the tree like Santa or whatever.

Once I put the gifts where no one will find them for now I go back downstairs to distract everyone until they go to sleep. I looked in an old closet and I found the Monopoly game I got a while back and decided to start a game with this.

“Hey, does anyone wanna play Monopoly with me?” I asked as I walked into the main room.

“Me I do,” Klaus gasped out, making me laugh.

“I guess one game won’t hurt,” Five also agreed. Whether he’d admit it or not everyone knows he loves Monopoly because he gets to ‘show off his smarts’.

Everyone else also agreed and we set the game up.

“I’m going to be the banker because I’m the only trustworthy one here,” Allison declared to which everyone agreed.  Claire wasn’t gonna play, just guard the money.

“Okay who first?” Viktor asked.

“Youngest always goes first,” Diego says as he pats my head.

I then rolled the dice and got 7 so I moved 7 spaces and landed on a chance spot. Once I do that I pick up a card and read it out loud. 

“It’s a get outta jail free card,” I explain and everyone nods.

“Okay then Five it’s your turn,” Klaus jokes and Five gives him a death glare.

“Technically we’re all the same age so it doesn’t matter as long as Y/n goes first and Five goes last,” Sloane points out. 

“Maybe we should go by the numbers Reggie gave us,” Viktor suggest.

“Okay then Luther your turn,” I say as I give Luther the dice. 

“Okay,” he says as he rolls, getting two 5’s.

“You have to roll again you got doubles,” Five explains after Luther moves to the just visiting space.

“I know I know,” Luther says as he rolls again getting two 3’s.

“I’ll buy it,” he says once he sees he’s landed on St. James Place.

“You know you have to roll again,” Allison points out as she takes his money and gives him his card.

“And if you roll one more double you go to jail,” Diego says smirking.

“Yes yes I know how to play,” Luther says a bit annoyed as he rolls one final time rolling two 1’s.

“Oh what the hell!?” he exclaims as everyone laughs.

-10 minutes later-

“Come on, give me a break!” Diego exclaims as he pays Viktor another $100.

“Why are you so good at this game?” I asked and he just shrugged.

“If you think I’m good Five is the one who asked if he could start a savings account,” he said pointing at Five who’s just smirking.

-20 minutes later-

“Mommy I’m sleepy,” Claire told Allison and she sighed.

“Sloane, could you take over being a banker? I’m gonna take this one to bed,” Allison said as she picked up Claire.

“Of course have a good night,” she said as they walked up stairs.

“Now who will be the new owner of Allison’s old property? Will it be Five, the businessman who if given to much power it’ll all go his head, the gorilla who’s poorer than me in reality, batman who’s barely holding on, or it could be-”

“SHUT UP KLAUS!” everyone shouts at the same time making him shut up.

-45 minutes later-

“What the hell!?” Five shouted.

“Pay up Bill Gates,” I laugh out loud, he had to pay every player $100.

“That is the stupidest card ever,” he complains as he pays everyone what they need.

“It wasn’t stupid when I got that card,” Viktor said as he rolled his eyes.

“Okay my turn,” I roll the dice and end up at free parking and jump with joy.

(Idk how you play but I do it as if you pay for random stuff like getting outta jail you put it in the middle and whoever lands on free parking gets all the money that was laid down.)

“WHAT!?” “HOW IS THIS FAIR!?” “YOU GO SUGARPLUM!” 

I laugh as I take all the money in the middle, almost being as much as Five had.

“Look who’s Bill Gates now,” I exclaim as I sort out my money.

-15 minutes later-

“Hey bitch that’s my railroad,” Klaus shouts at Viktor.

“No it’s not, I literally just bought it!” he shouts back.

“No! I bought it 2 rounds ago but Sloane never gave me my card!” he claims.

“You Liar!” Viktor accuses. 

-30 minutes later-

“I HATE YOU,” Diego shouts, completely ignoring the fact that there’s a sleeping 5 year old upstairs.

“OH?” Five starts, “WELL NEXT TIME DON’T STEAL MY MONOPOLY!”

“Five, give Diego your $200, you landed on his property,” Luther tries to calm them down.

“NO HE’S IN JAIL, I’M NOT GONNA GIVE MONEY TO A CRIMINAL,”  Five argues.

“THAT'S NOT HOW YOU PLAYYYY,” Diego shouts back.

“Why is everyone screaming?” Viktor asks in a calm voice.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP VIKTOR YOUR NOT GONNA TALK AFTER STEALING MY LAST RAILRAOD,” Klaus shouted, still pressed about the railroad thing.

“I WISH I WAS NEVER BORN!” Diego shouts.

“ME TOO,” Klaus agrees.

“YOU THINK I WANTED THIS!?” Five shouts.

“OKAY! I’m putting the game up, bedtime kids,” I declare and everyone walks away grumbling.

I clean up the game and put it DEEP in the closet before I make sure everyones in their rooms.

Once I do that I use my powers to quietly take the gifts and put them under the tree. Once I’m done with that I immediately go to sleep.

-Christmas morning-

The next morning I get woken up by Claire shouting through the halls that it’s Christmas.

Me and everyone else walk down the stairs as Luther hands out gifts.

“And this one is to Claire from Santa,” Luther explains as he hands Claire her gift which she opens immediately.

“Mommy, Look!” she exclaims as she shows her mom the doll set I got her.

“Where did this come from?” she asked, confused.

“Santa mommy, it came from Santa,” Claire explains as I hold back a giggle.

“Um, what are these?” Luther asks as he points to everything I bought.

“No clue,” Diego answers.

“Who does it say it’s from?” Klaus asks to which Luther replies, “Santa.”

“Are they all for Claire?” Five asks and Luther shakes his head again.

“They’re for us,” she shows them the names and everyones confused.

“Open them guys,” I encourage and they hesitantly take what's theirs.

Klaus was the first to open and when he saw what it was he gasped, alarming everyone in the room but me and Claire.

“What is it? A bomb, a threat?” Diego asks.

“It’s a nail set!” he shouts with delight as everyone looks at him even more confused, “It’s just like Y/n’s, who got me this?”

Everyone stays quiet and Klaus gasps again, “It’s from Santa, really Santa.”

“I don’t know about that,” Luther questions as Sloane opens hers.

“Luther, look, it's a new camera and scrapbook!” she shares happily. Luther then decided to open his.

“Oh my gosh,” he gasps, “it’s a gift card and a cookbook!”

Once they opened there's everyone else ripped theirs open.

“Wow, the knife's I wanted,” Diego smiles.

“Oh new strings, and a Watch? Awesome,” Viktor exclaims.

“Oh my goodness they’re so cute!” Allison squeals as she opens her new boots.

“Uncle Five open yours,” I suggest, he was the only one to not open his.

He hesitates before finally ripping the paper and seeing what he got.

“What is it?” I ask.

“It’s…a sound machine, and a dream catcher,” he explains slowly.

“That’s awesome!” I congratulate, “They might help you get a good night's sleep finally.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, just staring at his gift. I know he loves it.

“Okay stop the games, who did this,” Diego asks and I stay quiet.

“It was Santa Diego!” Claire points out and no one really disagrees.

“Wait,” Five stops, “Y/n didn’t get anything,” he points out.

“There’s one more gift,” I pointed under the tree, “is it for me?”

Luther looks and it does indeed say my name. Yep I got myself something so no one would think it’s me.

“Well then maybe it really WAS Santa,” Klaus suggested.

Five shrugged, “Maybe”

[theinfernalcalypso]

OH BOY QUESTIONS (... I get way too enthusiastic answering questions and idk why I'm like this

1. Named after anyone?

I am not! Neither for my dead name or my chosen one... Unless we count my dead name sharing a middle name with my birth giver

Or, well, Astar is short for the name Astaroth. I'm not sure the context of the choosing makes it count tho.

2. Last time I cried?

... almost earlier today because babies and small children make me cry lately-

3. Kids?

I'm not in a situation to have any at the moment, but I would like to

4. Sports?

They're not for me tbh, but if someone I care about is into them I am absolutely gonna learn some basics abt it so I know what they're talking about c:

5. Sarcasm?

The autism makes it hard to have fun with sarcasm with people, mostly due to the fact that I often run into the situation of

>sarcastically humorous statement

>I give what I think is a humorous reply in a flat tone

>(confused, usually also annoyed and looking at me like im stupid) "I was being sarcastic"

>I know?? I was continuing the humor?? Damn

6. First thing I notice about something?

... that it exists?

7. Eye color?

A dark brown, like garden dirt (this is a pleasant shade of brown to me tbh, I do wish they were green but I can't say I'm displeased with them now c: )

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

I have the entirety of the saw series minus the most recent one on DVD (gifted to me, but incredibly well received), I feel this says some things about me and answers this question lmfao

9. Talents?

A few? Writing, drawing, divination (like, any person I've done tarot for that I'm only an acquaintance with (i.e. people who I worked with) were freaked out by how right I got them just looking at their cards)), uuuuuh... idk I'm good at cleaning? And weirdly sagely advice since I was 5 (my advice at 5 years old led to one of my relatives being married quite literally til death did them part) and getting people who have only known me for 30 minutes to tell me their deepest darkest secrets/traumas (I don't know why this happens. I really don't. It keeps happening.)

10. Place of birth?

On good ol US soil near DC!

11. Hobbies?

Dnd, writing, drawing, picking people's brains (if they let me), weaving yarn, video games, studying things that catch my attention (e.g. psychology, physical medicines), and weirdly recently in my life? Bar hopping (I like the atmosphere, which feels weird as someone who's been a shut in most of their life lmao)

12. Pets?

Currently the house has seven dogs, six cats, two birds, and we have chickens and ducks!* None are personally mine, but my aunt did say that the next time we bring a stray cat in the house that cat is mine lmao

*I can assure anyone who may be worried that they're all very well taken care of and very loved c:

13. Height?

5 ft 4.5, but my ID has it rounded up to 5'5" and I feel like a FRAUD

14. Favorite school subject?

Art! Or if we wanna go with the main four (math, history, science, english) it'd be history!

15. Dream job?

At this point in my life? The IDEAL is house spouse lmao

But most people don't consider that a real job, so being an entertainer is also one I'm looking into!

Oh, still not a real job? Mortician. Yes I'm serious.

... as usual, I have no idea who to tag, but whoever wishes to share their answers please do!! I like reading tags and reblogs owo

tagged by @wolfsangel

1. named after anyone? no but my grandma chose my current name 2. last time I cried? today 3. kids? my plushies 4. sports? sleeping (n skating in winter) 5. sarcasm? hard to understand 6. first thing I notice about something? shape 7. eye color? that weird grey color that either looks green or blue to people 8. scary movies or happy endings? scary movies 9. talents? communicating with anything that has a soul 10. place of birth? c++ compiler 11. hobbies? programming, drawing, music, reserching topics no one cares about 12. pets? da dog, da hamster, soon da stickbugs 13. height? 5'5 or somwthing 14. favorite school subject? i dunno 15. dream job? something programming or osint related

tagging: @fvckinnefor @disruptxrr @ttattp @necoboberarc @poorpastel-pain + any1 who wants to do this ^__^

[tiffanylamps]

Here i am to ask you!

What is/are your love language/s?

Hey friend, this is such a wonderful question! Thanks for asking me it 💛 The post I had to let this sink and think it through. I even asked the boyfriend what he thinks my love languages are. Here's what we came up with: (once again, putting a read-more break because of tmi answers)

Quality time: sharing interests, goofing around and having a laugh, watching tv, discussing topics of interest, gaining comfort and just being in the presence of people I like Words of Affirmation: gaining and giving reassurance and compliments, praise, flirting, j o k e s (I like people who can make me laugh and I love people who find me funny) Touch: apparently this one is very hit or miss. I'm quoting the boyfriend: "either you don't want to let go or you're like 'fuck off and don't touch me.'" 🤷‍♀️ I would say that's very accurate. I find physical touch to be either super comforting or really overstimulating. There's no middle ground. Acts of Service: FOOD. sharing household chores. taking the weight of life's day-to-day bullshit off someone else's shoulders, so they can focus on themselves. A simple example from my daily life is on the weekends, I make my boyfriend a hot drink in the morning for him to wake up to, and he always carries the majority of the (food) shopping home. He washes the dishes and I cook dinner. Another example is the relationship I have with my mum; I was an unwell teenager (and still am, minus the teenager part), which meant I was in and out of my GPs/hospitals a lot and she supported me every step of the way. So, when she had cancer, I moved back home and nursed her through it. Receiving Gifts: I am a certified Best Gift Giver ever, fyi. I am seriously so good at giving people thoughtful gifts, it's actually such a useful skill. For me, I'm not all that fussed, as long as I receive something meaningful, I don't care what it is. I'm extremely sentimental and will keep gifts for years (I still have letters and cards, stones, shells, rocks, stuffed animals, and trinkets from loved ones, even if we don't talk anymore, just because they made me feel loved when they gave it to me)

I like the small things in life. Big displays of affection make me really uncomfortable, so I'm a huge fan of little acts of kindness and the mundane side of love. Yeah, skanky holidays and huge diamond rings are nice, but I prefer inside jokes, shared interests, homecooked meals, future plans, and having people in your life that say to you "it's nice to be known".

<3

[itsmeevie01]

Bio!Dad Bruce Month Day 13- Gifts

a teen was standing in an airport, the hood of his hoodie pulled up to hide his dark hair. His hands were stuffed in the pocket of his sweatpants, and he kept his eyes (really blue eyes!) fixed on his phone. When the arrival of the last flight from Paris for the night was announced, he glanced up, scanning the area. Satisfied that whoever he was looking for wasn’t yet at the baggage claim, he returned to his phone. 

20 minutes later, the device binged, and his head shot up, once again scanning the area. The athletic boy’s face split into a smile when he locked eyes with a girl who was waiting near a pile of bags, looking through the ones that were spitting out. The boy made his way over and pulled the girl into a hug. After they had snagged the last of her bags (how on earth did the kid have 6???) the two made their way to the parking garage. When they neared the doors separating the warm airport, the boy pulled the girl’s hood up and made sure his was up as well before pulling the bags he had taken behind him. the tow hurried through the cold air, heads down. 

As they passed a line of cars in the drop off lane, the boy’s hood got knocked off by the wind. He ducked down further, but by then, it was too late. “Timothy! Timothy Drake!” his name flew through the reports and visitors in the crowd. The boy, Tim, scowled and cut those closest to him a glare. The girl behind him sniggered at his distress before pulling her hood farther forward. As she pushed past the teen, there was a flash of blue eyes, before she was pulling him after her. As they hurried off, there were multiple flashes of cameras and questions floated through the air.

---

“what that fuck did you do?” the question was punctuated by the slamming of Marinette’s door. Tim huffed as he slumped into the driver’s seat.

“I didn’t do anything though! Honestly, it’s not my fault B has been making me do the public appearances for WE!” at his sister’s suspicious look, the older teen made a face and checked to make sure she had buckled her seatbelt. S

oon, the two were speeding down the road that led to the manor, where the rest of the family was gathering. 

---

When they walked in, they were greeted by Alfred, who gave Tim an unimpressed look before smiling at Marinette and insisting that the two go join the family in the big sitting room. When they entered, they found everyone staring at the television, where a news story was flashing on the screen. As the Anchor continued to talk, a picture of whatever had caught the family’s interest appeared on the screen and-

“well shit, Timmy, can’t you even pretend to be low key?” Jason’s question made the other boy groan and throw himself into a chair.

“I tried, Jason. I tried. It wasn’t until we were almost to the car that someone saw us.” He glanced at the image on the TV, “at least M can’t be seen clearly. That went correctly.” Jason snorted derisively and let himself fall back into his seat.

“how long do you think before the conspiracy theories start flying?” at his question, Marinette looked up from where she was scrolling through her phone.

“oh, those have already started. Half of Twitter thinks I’m Tim’s Girlfriend.” The room erupted in laughter and the siblings moved to accommodate the teens before turning back to the news.

Bruce smiled at his children as they started to stumble down the stairs. First, Marinette had come down from her room. The 14-year-old had taken the holiday to swap out her jeans and long-sleeved tees for a pair of leggings and a long green top that settled mid-thigh. Although her clothes weren’t festive, per say, you could tell she had thought her appearance through very carefully. At this point, Bruce mused, he wouldn’t expect anything less from the budding fashion designer.

Next had come Tim, somewhere around 5 am. The teen had also changed from his Pajamas into what Bruce realized was an outfit Marinette had planned. Black joggers, black tee peeking out from under a red hoodie, and a pair of slippers that Bruce suspected were actually his.

 Once the two had curled up together gripping their coffee, Dick and Jason appeared. They too had forgone the customary pjs for joggers, in Dicks case, and sweats in Jason’s. Dick was wearing a deep blue hoodie that was almost back, with…OH that must have been Marinette’s doing who else was going to make a custom hoodie for Dick that displayed his Nightwing symbol so subtly. Jason on the other hand…Marinette clearly had put less into being subtle with him. instead of a deep garnet that could blend into the bat symbol on his chest, the hoodie was a bright glaring red. On the back, in cursive, the name “Red Hoodie” had been sewn. Bruce held back a laugh of disbelief at the ease the girl had used to sneak the hoodies into the boy’s wardrobe.

While Bruce was marveling at his daughter’s creativity and sneakiness, Cass slipped in and settled next to him. she too was wearing a hoodie that Bruce now recognized as one of Marinette’s. it was black on black with white outlining the bat symbol. At his look of amusement, Cass handed him the hoodie in her hands.

It was black like hers, except much bigger and completely devoid of color. As he inspected the hoodie, Bruce found a small selection of embroidery on the bottom hem. “dad, I didn’t want to do anything huge, but this is a thank you, and a small reminder that I love you. Stay safe, Marinette Cheng-Wayne” he smiled as he ran his fingers over the stitching. 

When he glanced over at Cass again, he found her playing with the embroidery on her own hoodie where it met her leggings. Before he could turn and say anything to the designer, Damien made his presence known as he entered the room. The boy scowled at everyone before he plopped down on next to Marinette, on the side opposite of Tim. Bruce shook his head as he watched his two youngest interact, Damien in a green hoodie and sweats. The hoodie wasn’t anything special, except for the red lining and yellow accents that Marinette had obviously added as a nod to his hero persona.

Alfred came in shortly after and handed out coffee and Hot Cocoa. As the siblings woke up, they moved so that the family made a semi-circle around the tree. They pulled out their phones and started checked the time, texted their friends, and generally got accustomed to the early morning. 

When Alfred came back to join them, toting two giant trash bags and a camera, Dick perked up, it was time to start handing out presents. As the young adult started moving through the room, the others sorted what he was handing them when they all were given boxes in an unfamiliar paper, many of the older ones traded confused glances with each other. When the last present had been distributed, everyone turned to Damien who glanced around in confusion. “what? Do I have something on my face?” the others laughed, and Marinette bumped him with her elbow.

“its not that, little brother, you are the youngest, so you go first. You open one and everyone else will take turns after until it comes back to you!” the boy rolled his eyes at her explanation, before reaching for the paper that the rest of the family knew signifies that the gift was from Alfred. 

When the youngest had opened the parcel to reveal a selection of books on drawing and wildlife, Marinette smiled at him and nodded to Dick, who had ended up next to Damien. Dick flashed her a bright smile and opened his own present form Alfred. After Dick, Jason tugged off the paper on his box. Then, Cass who turned to Bruce with a prompting tilt of her head. After Bruce had opened his bag (really, Alfred! He didn’t need any more books on raising emotionally stable children. He had done well so far, right?) he nodded to Alfred who raised a pointed eyebrow at him (about what, Bruce wasn’t sure. He hadn’t done anything yet, had he? It was barely 6 in the morning!). Tim rolled his eyes at their interaction, before ripping open his own package and letting out a yelp of happiness at the stack of books that he found waiting for him. 

After that, Marinette simply giggled at the family antics and opened her gift. When Damien reached for the next present, Alfred lifted his camera to capture the smiles that were flooding the room.

Somehow, Damien had left the unfamiliar papered gift for last. When he reached for it, he tried to do a mental tally to figure out who it could be from. First they had opened Alfred’s gifts, so it couldn’t be him. then they had moved onto Bruce’s then Jason’s. After that, they had gone through Cass’s (apparently, she was a notoriously bad gift giver) and his own. Then, Damien had reached for the ones he knew came from Marinette, before deigning to opened Tim’s. if they had opened all of the family presents, then…” Alfred, why are these under the family tree?” Dick’s question broke Damien from his thoughts. “shouldn’t we wait until the Kents get here to open these?” the old Butler shook his head and gestured for the vigilante to open the box. 

When Dick did as instructed, he full on squealed. “How!” at the family’s confusion, the oldest of the siblings held up a card that had been nestled inside. The small crème square read ‘Complements of MCW’. As the family processed what they were seeing, all hell broke loose. The others tore into the boxes in front of them, and all found a personalized gift, and a matching Christmas sweater. No one noticed Marinette’s small smile at the chaos surrounding her, or that though she had the Christmas sweater, she didn’t have a personalized item to go with. 

No one, that is, except Tim.

so, this is LATE, because the place im staying over the weekend has crazy spotty internet and i couldnt get Word to save anything. that said, i will also be uploading day 14, so keep an eye out for that today...

[lindberghtm]

          *  .  desirée lindbergh was spotted in the fashion district adorning prada platform chelsea boots , with some airpod pros on . they’re most likely listening to you know i'm no good by amy winehouse . you may know them as @desi or as that aisha potter  lookalike . their twenty first birthday just passed . while living in the upper east side  , they’ve gained a bit of a reputation . they’re known to be duplicitous but on the other hand reliable . wonder if they’ll be the next person to hit the headlines . ( cis female / she/her + c / 21+ / she/her )   .  

         hey  !!!!!!  i  was  planning  on  coming  thru  with  a  cool  intro  to  establish  myself  as  a ~ cool ~  person , but  covid  has  absolutely  ✨ decimated  ✨  my  social  skills  so  ,,,,,,,  this  is  what  im  left  with  .  anywho  hi  i’m  c  (  short  for  clown  tbfh  )  ,  im  21+  ,  from  the  rainy  ole’  pnw  ,  &  i  use  she / her  pronouns  .  i  was  in  wealthy  like  , , , ,  AGES  ago  &  tbh  i’ve  been  missing  it  real  bad  lately  so  here  i  am  with  a  brand  new  bitch  , , , , ,  ms  .  desi  lindbergh  🖤  i  just  finished  reading  the  girl  with  the  dragon  tattoo  so  you’ll  find  elements  from  that  novel  in  my  biography  like  the  names  ,  & the  general  ‘ company  comes  first ‘  &  ‘  no  one  gets  a  divorce  in  this  family ’  attitudes  .  but  hennyway  here’s  a  pinterest  board  ,  &  my  discord  is  𝐌 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐁#1264  (  the  best  tiktok  song  imo  )  .  my  bio  is  rambly  but  there  are  stats  at  the  top  ,  personality  &  wanted  connections  (  inc  .  this  sideblog  w  wanted  plots  )  at  the  bottom  !  xoxo

*  .  stats  .

full  name : desirée  ‘ desi ’  charlotte  lindbergh - montenegro

age : twenty - two

gender : cis  female

pronouns : she / her  

pob ; current  home : london  ,  england  ;  current  residence  in  tribeca  .

family : henrik  lindbergh  (  80  ,  deceased  ,  ceo  of  lindbergh  corporation  )  ;  miriam  montenegro  (  46  ,  lives  in  the  upper  east  side & london  ,  supermodel  turned  vindictive  widow  )  ;  no  siblings  or  pets  .

birthday : september  2  ,  1998  ;  virgo  sun  ,  taurus  moon  ,  cancer  rising .

career : heiress / model / daddy’s credit card swiper  .

drinking / drugs / smoking :  yes / no / occasionally .  

physical : aisha  potter  fc ,  dark  brown  mid - length  hair  ,  dark  brown  eyes  ,  no  tattoos  ,  two  ear  lobe  piercings  in  each  ear  ,  5 ′ 6 ″ .

*  .  character biography .

1998  : miriam  montenegro  ,  an  english  model  coming  from  a  humble  background  ,  made  it  big  when  she  was  scouted  for  runway  shows  ,  eventually  making  her  way  to  being  a  household  name  .  by  the  age  of  twenty  five  ,  she’d  found  love  (  or  ,  financial  comfort  ,  rather  )  with  the  fifty  nine  year  old  henrik  lindbergh  ,  a  swedish  business  magnate  whose  involvement  in  global  industrialization  spanned  far  wider  than  the  european  economy  .  the  relationship  took  the  world  by  surprise  ,  miriam’s  friends  being  far  more  involved  in  pop  culture  than  an  aged  man  .  while  she  claims  it  was  love  ,  the  world  had  already  made  up  its  mind  on  her  motive  —  money  .

the  pair  got  married  six  months  after  they  initially  became  involved  , & desi  was  born  a  year  after  .  her  father  ,  the  product  of  the  ‘  silent  generation  ‘  ,  was  of  the  impression  that  children  should  be  seen  ,  not  heard  ,  an  outdated  idea  that  her  mother  was  comfortable  abiding  by  .  desirée  ,  by  association  ,  quickly  became  accustomed  to  the  spotlight  ,  the  interest  in  the  uncommon  relationship  between  miriam & henrik  only  growing  after  the  birth  of  their  sole  child  .  desi  grew  up  a  prop  ,  a  toy  for  her  mother  to  dress  up  in  matching  outfits & parade  on  the  global  stage  ,  before  stepping  behind  closed  doors  &  forgetting  about  the  child  entirely  .  this  led  to  desi  being  raised  almost  exclusively  by  nannies  ,  her  mother  more  interested  in  savouring  the  last  of  her  youth & her  father  too  busy  with  his  international  duties  .    originally  based  in  london  ,  the  family  moved  to  new  york  when  desirée  was  starting  her  schooling  to  be  closer  to  the  hustle & bustle  of  american  life  .

2017  : desirée  is  graduating  high  school  a  year  early  after  having  been  sent  to  institut  auf  dem  rosenberg  ,  a  swiss  private  school  that  prides  itself  on  being  highly  exclusive∫ˆ  highly  expensive  .  the  name  was  a  selling  point  for  her  father  ,  but  more  importantly  she  would  be  safe & out  of  the  way  on  another  continent  while  her  parents  bickered  ceaselessly  .  desirée  found  herself  to  be  nothing  special  at  rosenberg  ,  her  identity  having  been  formed  on  the  idea  that  public  exposure  equated  to  popularity  ;  without  the  constant  public  eye  while  at  school  ,  desi  found  a  freedom & lightness  she  hadn’t  before  experienced  .  she  could  be  real  , & have  real  friends  , & not  be  putting  on  a  fake  smile  to  allude  an  air  of  comfort  .  most  of  all  ,  she  could  get  away  from  her  spiteful  mother  ,  who  ,  once  desi  hit  puberty  ,  saw  her  as  a  threat  to  her  own  beauty  ,  success  , & public  popularity  .  being  sent  to  private  school  was  the  best  thing  to  happen  to  desi & her  mother’s  relationship  .

after  graduating  ,  desirée  moved  back  to  new  york  city  ,  moving  back  into  the  expansive  upper  east  side  apartment  , & being  sure  to  move  into  a  room  on  the opposite side  of  the  home  from  her  parents  .  being  thrust  back  into  the  spotlight  ,  a  ‘  homecoming  ‘  of  sorts  that  her  mother  capitalized  on  ,  desi  fell  into  a  depression  .  she  feared  leaving  the  house  ,  she  feared  that  people  would  only  want  to  be  her  friend  in  order  to  access  the  family’s  wealth  (  a  seed  of  an  idea  planted  in  her  father  at  the  age  of  twelve  ,  when  she  was  told  there  was  to  be  no  dating  unless  their  family’s  net  worth  was  over  500  million  )  .  soon  enough  ,  though  ,  desi  made  the  choice  to  get  in  contact  with  her  mother’s  rival  modeling  agency  ,  inquiring  about  the  possibility  about  modeling  .  they  ,  of  course  ,  welcomed  the  legacy  with  open  arms  ;  her  mother  ,  however  ,  decided  that  this  deceipt  would  not  be  tolerated  under  her  roof  , & kicked  desi  out  as  soon  as  she’d  heard  .  desi  called  her  father  crying  ,  explaining  the  situation  over  the  phone  ,  who  immediately  created  a  separate  bank  account  of  her  own  for  desi  ,  secretly  hidden  away  in  an  overseas  bank  to  avoid  her  mother  finding  out  .  the  account  held  far  more  than  desirée  needed  ,  but  it  was  her  father  who  enabled  her  to  get  back  on  her  feet  ,  find  her  own  home  , & start  a  career  for  herself  .  

2020 : desirée  hardly  speaks  to  her  mother  ,  though  they  keep  up  the  public  illusion  that  they  are  as  close  as  a  mother  -  daughter  duo  can  be  .  her  father  though  ,  now  80  years  old  ,  was  actually  close  with  desi  ,  the  two  catching  up  daily & him  celebrating  her  accomplishments  she  believed  were  self  -  earned  .  in  october  ,  though  ,  she  received  a  phone  call  from  her  father’s  attorney  ,  mr.  berger  ,  who  informed  her  that  henrik  was  in  the  hospital  in  critical  condition  after  a  heart  attack  .  she  flew  to  stockholm  ,  where  her  father  had  been  taking  care  of  business  items  , & realized  that  it  was  time  to  say  her  goodbyes  .  her  father & her  played  chess  ,  talked  about  her  childhood  , & reconciled  on  any  old  issues  .  he  passed  away  three  days  after  she’d  arrived  .  seeming  as  if  he’d  been  able  to  tell  something  horrible  was  coming  ,  henrik  had  updated  his  will  a  matter  of  weeks  before  the  heart  attack  ,  naming  desiree  as  the  sole  inheritor  of  all  his  assets & belongings  .  except  ,  of  course  ,  her  mother  ,  who  inherited  a  whopping  five  dollars  from  her  husband  .  this  was  ,  mr  .  berger  explained  to  desi  ,  so  that  miriam  could  not  claim  that  she  had  accidentally  been  left  out  , & was  entitled  to  more  of  his  estate  .  

if  this  wasn’t  enough  ,  the  press  soon  released  that  interntional  business  mogul  henrik  lindbergh  had  passed  away  , & the  companies  he  owned  were  now  owned  by  a  twenty  one  year  old  model  who  had  never  truly  worked  one  day  in  her  life  .  to  make  matters  worse  ,  her  mother  quickly  played  the  victim  ,  launching  a  multitude  of  lawsuits  against  her  own  daughter  for  defamation & coercing  her  father  to  leave  her  mother  out  of  it  .  berger  quickly  chose  desirée’s  side  ,  though  he  couldn’t  become  her  personal  attorney  out  of  conflict  of  interest  with  the  executing  of  the  will  .  as  the  accounts  lie  in  limbo  during  the  legal  battle  ,  desi  is  relying  solely  on  the  secret  account  her  father  made  her  in  switzerland  ;  if  her  mother  knew  ,  she  would  try  to  go  after  it  ,  as  well  .  

2021 :  desirée  has  layed  low  over  the  last  few  months  ,  her  mother  continuing  her  public  display  of  heartache  as  the  widow  .  desi  can  be  said  to  be  two  -  faced  due  to  her  sweet  disposition  one  day & her  cold  attitude  the  next  .  in  reality  ,  she  is  normally  kind & thoughtful  ,  giving  the  benefit  of  the  doubt  to  those  two  wrong  her  ,  but  lately  she  has  become  more  withdrawn  ,  secretive  , & volatile  .  she  was  recently  photographed  in  a  restaurant  ,  crying  on  the  phone  with  her  head  in  her  hand  ,  something  she  would  never  normally  allow  to  happen  .  overall  ,  though  ,  she  doesn't  want  to  speak  publicly  about  the  legal  battle  because  she  considers  it  a  delicate  matter  &  wants  to  take  the  high  road  .  because  of  this  ,  she  puts  on  a  face  that  she's  happy  ,  has  done  her  mourning  ,  &  intentionally  does  things  to  make  it  seem  like  life  is  normal  ,  like  making  appearances  at  events  about  new  york  city  &  being  spotted  hanging  out  with  friends  .  only  a  very  small  handful  in  her  inner  circle  notice  the  immense  stress  she's  under  because  she's  good  at  managing  it  ,  &  doesn't  want  to  be  pitied  .

*  .  personality  .

personality  wise  ,  she  is  quite  bubbly  ,  thoughtful  ,  dependable  ,  observant  ,  calm  , &  chooses  her  words  carefully  .  on  the  other  hand  ,  she  can  be  very  hot  &  cold  ,  self - isolating  ,  two  -  faced  , & tells  blatant  lies  when  she  ought  not  to  ,  &  denies  vehemently  when  others  call  her  on  her  bs  .  she’s  the  type  to  remember  someone  saying  they  like  something  ,  in  passing  ,  then  suddenly  she  shows  up  with  that  exact  thing  when  she  sees  them  next  .  her  love  language  is  definitely  gifts  &  acts  of  service  .  considers  herself  a  good  advice  giver  but  won’t  take  any  advice  others  give  her  .  kind  of  an  air  head  ,  in  that  she  can  get  so  wrapped  up  in  her  own  world  that  she  forgets  that  others  aren’t  just  npc’s  in  her  life  sfjklsd  .  can  get  overwhelmed  easily  ,  &  retracts  back  into  herself  &  isolates  in  her  apartment  for  days  on  end  ,  pampering  herself  with  huge  shopping  sprees  ,  overpriced  face  masks  ,  &  too  much  champagne  .  her  way  to  deal  with  problems  is  to  pretend  they’re  not  there  until  eventually  they  go  away  🤡

the  world  knows  the  bulk  of  the  lindbergh  -  montenegro  affair  ,  as  its  known  in  the  media  ,  thanks  to  her  mother  taking  interviews  left  & right  to  allude  to  her  being  snubbed  by  her  own  daughter  .  desi  pretends  that  it  does  not  bother  her  ,  that  justice  will  be  served  & that  legality  will  prevail  over  her  mother’s  cries  ,  but  the  weight  of  the  affair  is  taking  a  toll  on  her  .  

*  .  wanted  plots  .  

click  here  for  sideblog  with  wanted  plots  !

best  friend / ride  or  die  :  someone  desi’s  been  friends  with  for  YEARS  ,  knows  all  her  family’s  bs  ,  prob  has  called  her  mother  a  b*tch  to  her  face  dflkjsdkl  .  literally  the  nicole  to  her  paris  ,  the  lorelai  to  her  rory  .  

squad  :  a  group  of  friends  who  go  clubbing  every  saturday  &  get  brunch  &  gossip  the  next  morning  ,  have  shady  nicknames  in  their  gc  ,  have  designated ‘ roles ’  in  the  friend  group  (  mom  friend  ,  the  cr*ckhead  ,  the  wingperson  ,  etc  .  ) ,  go  on  trips  together  ,  have  the  wildest  birthday  parties  ,  etc  .  please  !!  

first  love  :  this  would’ve  been  in  their  teens  ,  a  summer  fling  that  she  fell  hard  for  &  who  her  father  didn’t  approve  of  bc  he’s  business - minded  first  .  they  tried  to  do  long  distance  when  she  went  back  to  school  in  the  fall  ,  but  it  didn’t  work  out  &  now  they’re  either  on  good  terms  &  have  sweet  memories  of  that  time  ,  or  one  is  still  kinda  salty  how  things  ended  .

bad  influence  :  encourages  desi  to  get  the  stick  out  of  her  *ss  ,  &  when  she  hangs  out  with  them  ,  they  tend  to  go  overboard  on  whatever  the  entertainment  of  the  night  may  be  . 

friends  to  lovers / slow - burn  romance  :  they’re  friends  first  ,  but  there’s  been  undeniable  romantic  tension  between  the  two  of  them  (  imagine  pope  towards  kiara  in  obx  )  ,  &  their  friends  can pick  up  on  it  .  they’ve  never  acted  on  it  , worried  of  ruining  the  friendship  ,  but  they’re  always  a  lil  disappointed  when  the  other  goes  home  with  or  gets  involved  with  someone  else  ,  but  are  ultimately  there  to  pick  up  the  pieces  afterwards  .

enemies  /  mutual  dislike  :  maybe  someone  whose  family  her  father  screwed  in  business  ,  their  parents  could  have  been  friends  before  desi’s  mom  turned  on  them  somehow  ,  they  think  desi  thinks  she’s  queen  of  the  world  ,  etc . let’s  plan  it  out  hehe

cheating  :  oop  !  i  love  the  angst  ,  so  gimme  someone  who  either  a  )  cheated  on  desi  ,  or  b  )  they  think  she  cheated  on  them  due  to  some  tabloid  article  ,  rumor  around  town  she  was  seen  with  someone  ,  etc .  their  relationship  was  prob  rocky  as  fuck  ,  toxic  ,  &  lacked  trust  &  communication  .  just  a  total  shit  show  tbh  .

that’s  all  i  can  think  of  now  dskljfkl  please  feel  free  to  reach  out  over  tumblr  msgs  or  on  discord  !  

[sunwisecircle]

Hwaet

The other day I was feeling kind of poorly because I kept seeing all these posts about feeling drawn to this or that deity, or the Theoi ‘showing up’ in people’s lives. (Or: how I realized Dionysos is encouraging my unterwürfiges ass to be assertive, a post)

I don’t know as I ever felt ‘drawn’ to Dionysos. I had a fascination with Mercury when I was in middle school, part of my twisty-turny religious history, which I now equate to Hermes having always been around in one form or another. I read mythology a lot as a kid -- my father had a copy of Bullfinch that I carried around in my backpack for ages and I was obsessed with the Roman Empire for part of elementary school, and I had learned that the Greek and Roman gods were the same so while I know differently now, I look at the Mercury/Hermes thing in the context of that background. I thought the mythology was cool. I referenced Bacchus on a regular basis as a certified wine aunt. But Dionysos didn’t just show up in my life when I decided I wanted to worship. Hermes didn’t just show up.

It made me feel bad, and I wondered if I was doing something wrong because the Theoi didn’t and haven’t ever come to me. I’ve never had a dream in which they reveal themselves to me. I’ve never had a moment of ‘oh, this deity is calling to me’ or ‘that deity is interested in working with me’. I never even followed the advice I saw of doing research before introducing yourself to a deity, doing the introduction, then asking their permission to worship them & waiting for their assent before doing so -- and if they say no, then that’s that (that last will never not be confusing to me they are deities they are literally there to be worshipped why do I need to ask their permission to do so but go off I guess???).

But the more I thought about it, the more it only makes sense. Of course the Theoi didn’t ‘show up’ in my life. Of course they didn’t show interest in me, or send me dreams, or whatever. Given the course of my life, that would not have made sense.

When I was 19 I left my parents’ house because I wasn’t going to let them dictate my future when I had to pay for everything. I made the choice. When I was twenty-one and my ex (may he rot) left me, I made the choice never to put my life on hold for anyone ever again. I chose my university. I chose my major. I made a 13-year plan to reach a set of goals (two more years on that and I only have three more goals to reach, two of which I am currently in the middle of, so looks like I’m right on track). I moved to another country by myself with €900, two suitcases, and a backpack when I was 25 to make a life for myself. I made choice after choice, and didn’t wait for anyone to give me permission to live my life how I wanted to. I’m not even the type of person that waited for other people to make the first move. If I had a crush on someone, I’d walk up to them and tell them as much. (I literally once walked up to a guy I liked and told him he should ask me out for coffee).

How would it make any sense for the gods to come to me instead of the other way around. When I got sick of worshipping a god who hated me, I decided on Dionysos. I walked up and said ‘Hi. I like you. We should be friends.’ and that was that. Once I learned more, I’ll admit to having had fear of approaching the other Theoi the same way because I’d seen so much about them coming to people instead of the other way around, and I was afraid the first time I prayed to Hermes before travelling because I didn’t know him and he hadn’t made himself known to me yet and what if it was rude and and and. After that first time... I’m still fearful, of course, but I think that’s more owing to my upbringing and religious trauma than anything else. I don’t wait for the Theoi to come into my life. Dionysos didn’t show up; Hermes didn’t show up. I showed up to them. I walked up to Apollon and gave him my term paper about Old English poetry, and bought him some orange-coloured candles. I told Hermes this next term paper about late Latin language change is for him (Hey, I am making this thing and I want to give it to you as a gift). My thesis -- the topic of which I still don’t know -- is for Dionysos. He knows this. I told him as much. I gave Hestia my lava lamp since I turn it on every evening before I say my prayers and turn it off when I go to sleep. I went to The Trees and poured a general round of libations for the Twelve Above, Those Below, and Anyone Who Wishes to Partake.

None of which is to say that I’m particularly assertive, because the gods above and below know I am not. I have certainly been manipulated into doing things I didn’t want to do, and ended up in situations that were bad for me because I am the world’s most submissive submissive. It may be the autism. Or the authoritarian upbringing. Maybe both. Probably both.

My beloved lord Dionysos knows this about me, which I think is part of the reason that he has never been anything but gentle with me. Even when he gave me directions to do something, he never got angry with me when I was scared to do so. Right after I announced to him that we should be friends, he was on me to get rid of a toxic relationship in my life and I pushed it off for weeks because that would require me to be forceful. The prodding I got. The poking. The ‘Hon. Come on. You know you need to’. So I did. I’d wanted to for years, but he helped me find the courage to do so.

He’s always been very much about consent. Do I want something. Am I sure I want to worship him. Do I know my goals. What do i want out of a relationship with him.

Then lately when I ask him questions I’ve been getting ‘maybe’ cards. Almost like he’s saying ‘What do you think?’. (Which isn’t to say that he doesn’t give me straight answers about important things. He’ll point me in a direction if I need it. If I ask him about an offering and he’s not a fan, he’ll give me a definitive no; or if I’m doing poorly and just need reassurance he’ll definitely give it to me.) (Ffs he is so good to me fakjlafdskjlöadfsjköfas I can’t.) I usually ask him if he has time to chat with me before doing a tarot reading. Once he said no, but I really needed to talk to him so I told him as much. He then said yes. I said thank you and told him I love him after. I told him once that I wanted his advice on something, and when he gave me a ‘well, what do you think?’ I told him I know what I think, but that he’s my god and the giver of good counsel and I wanted his input before I did anything. He gave it to me. I told him thank you, that I love him, and took his advice in consideration.

And then it hit me. I am not used to asking for what I want. I am not used to giving my opinion. I am not used to setting boundaries, or saying no. And this absolute amazing deity, a literal fucking god, is out here getting me to practice with him. It’s like he looked at me and said ‘You remember how you just came up to me one day? That energy? I like that. Let’s keep that, shall we?’.

Make goals. What do you want. Think about it. Dream big. What do you want. What do you want. What do you want.

Oh.

Okay.

What do I want?

[firelord-frowny]

its so hella weird to have anything good to say about my brother but like wooow his gift giving skills are legendary

i am the worst gift giver known to humankind lmao and i always either just get people exactly what they asked me to get them, or i give them a gift card. i neeeever try to ~guess~ what someone might like bc i’ll fuck it up every time. 

but christmas/birthday gifts from my brother over the last few years have included:

a huge mug in the shape of an alien head

another huge mug with a lil star map of constellations on it 

anOTHER huge mug that says “i get it from my mamma”

a regular sized mug that inexplicably has a tiny statue of a bird inside of it

a big ol DK reference book about US national parks 

a pillow with a huge embroidered spider on it 

i can’t imaaaagine anyone knowing exactly what kind of weird shit to get me without having asked me first. like woooow.

[whoopsimwritingagain]

Back Home - Jacob Black

A/N: This is an A/U where there’s no mention of the vamps/ Bella, but I’m not outright denying their existence in this universe because this universe would collapse. The character is modeled after Bella in some ways and is original in others. Please send in requests, and commentary on my work,

DISCLAIMER: I am no longer accepting requests for any of the wolves! While I am glad to write any that have already come to my inbox I realized in writing that I simply do not know these characters well enough to feel good about my work or write complexities into the story. Sorry for any inconveniences!! Much love.

Word Count: 1978

Warnings: None

I rolled the last of my suitcases across the hardwood floor of my childhood bedroom into the closet where it would wait to be unpacked. “I think that’s the last of them,” my dad says. I have barely spoken since I arrived. I just can’t seem to find any words worth speaking. My dad knows why I’m here. At this point I feel like the whole town of Forks knows why I, a 22 year old former valedictorian, is moving back into her dad's house and working at the local diner. Everything seemed to be going fine. Better than fine actually, I had earned a coveted paid internship at the Boston Globe that I was set to start the month after my wedding to a promising young medical student. God, I should have known this was coming. That sentence sounds flat out ridiculous.

After graduation we entered the wedding prep whirlwind. Everything had been booked and ordered, but I had to deal with my soon-to-be mother-in-law. So I endured a month of her asking me if we wanted the bridesmaids hair to be curled or braided and teased, or if we should order last-minute gift bags. I endured a month of her silent judging, or not so silent when I wanted to have a glass of red wine after having my teeth whitened. All of that for him to leave me on our honeymoon. Ethan told me that I had changed while he was “too busy to notice,” and that I didn’t make him happy anymore. He said he wished he would have left me at the altar so we wouldn’t need to go through the headache of nullifying the marriage. A three year relationship thrown in the trash and a ring thrown in the ocean (that he billed me for.) So I got on the first flight to Boston from Athens and booked an Airbnb for the remaining weeks until I could move into the apartment I had planned to share with E. And then the unthinkable happened. My contracted position at the Globe was eliminated. I was offered a package, along with the dozens, maybe even hundreds, of employees that lost their jobs thanks to the digitization of journalism. I used most of the money from the package to do four things on the Thursday Evening I was “let go.” 1. I bought my plane ticket to Seattle, and booked a rental car I could take to forks 2. I backed out of my lease. 3. I wrote Ethan a check for the ring. 4. I sent the majority of our wedding presents back to the givers along with a note giving a blunt and apologetic explanation of how my life had fallen out of place.

Knowing all of this, my father gave me my space. He let me not talk the day I moved back in, he let me ignore my old friends, he let me leave my personal mail unopened on the kitchen counter - I didn’t want anyone’s condolences. After the fourth week of me interacting solely with him and my customers at the diner he slid a card for a therapist across the dinner table. Now, I recognize that therapy is very beneficial for a lot of people, and I couldn’t tell you why, but I absolutely did not want to go to therapy. So instead, we found a sort of compromise. I would start talking to people. I wouldn’t ignore the neighbors anymore when he goes over to chat with them, and I’d start going to church with him. But most importantly, I would start seeing one of my old friends - at least once a week. I protested and I tried to find loopholes, but each time he would remind me that I was living in his house rent-free while I worked to pay off my student loans, and I would have to shut up. So I finally started picking up the sympathy calls, or at least the calls, from one person in particular, Jacob Black. Jake, my high school boyfriend, the one that got away if you will. Or rather, the one who stayed behind. Jake and I have a long history. Our dads have been good friends for a long time. My father and I moved to Forks because my dad wanted to downsize our lives after my mother died. Billy and dad met in the very diner I work in now, and apparently Jake’s mom had died 2 years prior. Grief loves company or some shit like that. So we grew up making mud pies and stick forts on the beach. Around high school things got weird and by the end of the first semester of our freshman year we figured it would only hurt more to try and fight the feelings we had developed for each other. So there you have it. High school love.

Jake had been an absolutely perfect boyfriend. Sure, we fought, everyone fights, but we really had something special. Jake is just so light-hearted, and sincere, and physically… well, he’s pretty stunning. Getting through his transition was tough because he was so confused and angry. But we did! I thought if we could make it through that we could make it through anything. I was wrong. March of senior year I was accepted to the University of Washington’s journalism program, and Jake started talking to Billy about what taking a bigger role in the pack would look like. I didn’t want to stay in a small town, but Jake couldn’t leave, he had too deep of a connection. We talked about this after graduation. The decision wasn’t immediate. If anything, that week we made every effort to be closer to each other. Occasionally, after we had sex, or during whatever movie we were watching, one of us would catch the other staring off into space. No doubt contemplating the predicament at hand. It was a mutual ending, but it was still hard, it still hurt for a long time. I even saw a counselor at my college for a while just to try and figure out what I wanted. But we have remained good friends, he even stood at my wedding, so his calls have been the hardest to ignore. The next time he calls me, I answer, and it’s the most relief I’ve felt since I threw my ring into the sea.

We meet the next day at a little cafe. He looks happier than I remember. Jake greets me five minutes early and his beaming smile makes me feel secure. I wave at him right before being engulfed in one of his warm and comfy hugs. For those five seconds it’s like I’m back in high school. This is the least worried I’ve felt since those simpler days. No deadlines, or internship applications, no boyfriend to make me feel like I need to “be better” all the time. Just Jake and cold brew. He starts with small talk, knowingly avoiding the dreaded “how are you” and navigating more comfortable topics like the pleasantly sunny day we were enjoying in the rainy peninsula. He fills me in on the latest pack drama and I regurgitate the bits and pieces of local news I pick up at the diner. He’s making some joke about the Forks kids who have been sneaking onto the beach at the res and as I laugh I instinctively put my hand on his arm. It would be cheesy to call what he makes me feel “electricity”, but that small action definitely made my hair stand on end. Jake must feel the same way because we both blink at the point of contact for a moment before pretending to study the wall. The conversation lulls for a minute. When he starts to talk about the res again he moves his arm, but he doesn’t pull it away, instead he holds my hand.

The cafe closes three hours after we get there, so we grab drink refills and head to our favorite trail. Perfectly stationed between my house and the res. I sit down on a rock near the cliff and Jake comes to sit down by me. We sit there in silence for a while, enjoying the waves. Jake looks over at me now and I can already tell what he’s about to say. He opens his mouth and then thinks better of it. Instead he says “Is it… okay?” “Actually,” I reply, “I think you’re the only person who’s allowed to talk to me about it right now.” “Oh, okay” he gulps and lets it sit for a second. “Y/N I can honestly tell you that I didn’t see it coming. If I did I would have told you I wouldn’t have let you… I wouldn’t have let him!...” Jake is clearly flustered at this point. “I wouldn’t have let it get that far if I thought it would hurt you.” It’s hard to know how to respond to him when he gets like this, equally caring and alpha male, so I think carefully before speaking. “Jake you won’t always be able to tell what’s going to hurt me… no one can. People get hurt in life sometimes there’s nothing you can do about that.” Wrong answer. Jake’s brow furrows. “But I should have been able to protect you! It’s different.” I shake my head. “Jake you can’t be perfect all the time… I know you’re different, and that's special! But… that doesn’t mean that bad things will never happen. A bad thing happened to me, Jake. A lot of them actually. But… now I’m back home. I might not have my job but I have my degree, I’ve got no apartment but I’m not paying rent, and I don’t have a lying husband… but I have a true friend.” There’s a good half-minute of breathy silence “Wow,” Jake finally breaks it, “not a dry eye on the rock.” I smile “Haha Jake.” He turns my chin towards him so we’re making eye contact again “I know you missed my dry humor.” he says with a grin. And then we’re kissing. I don’t know who kissed who or how this started. But he’s kissing me and I’m kissing him. I don’t know how much time passes with my arms around his neck and for the first time since I left Forks, I don’t care that I don’t have the answers to everything anymore. Eventually, he draws away, but not too far away, and asks “friend?” I grin at him and answer “maybe not”

We spend the night talking and curled up in his bed, the same big wooly comforter as when I left. We talk and we talk and we kiss again and eventually, we do more than kiss. If I was talking to one of my friends I would seriously chastise her for sleeping with her high school ex-boyfriend the first night she sees him again  but with Jake, it’s just so different. He isn’t my high school it’s just him and me and everything is exactly like it’s supposed to be. It’s almost six in the morning. His face is lit by the rising sun and I’m laying on his chest. “Jacob” I state. “What” he cocks his eyebrow and wraps his arms tighter around me. “I think I’ve fallen back in love with you.”

Ahh!

So I started writing this in August and obviously college and life hit and I didn’t really forget about it but I just never felt like I had time or motivation to finish it. Then Rona. I hope you all are safe and able to take care of yourself. I’ll fix grammatical stuff as I catch it but please continue to requests and double requests because I will get them done eventually even if I disappear.

[sleepy-spudstackz-blog]

The thought out confession

By Makayla Gomes

An Ojiro x neutral!reader

Ojiro hunched over to kiss your forehead. When Ojiro realized what he did, he started blushing like crazy wondering why and how he did what he just did.

Ojiro’s pov*

What the hell did I do!?! Oh no what if she wakes up? What is they know what I did? Dear Lord I’ll be in so much trou----

Ojiro calmed down knowing that what happens in your sleep you’d never remember it unless if you were faking your slumber. Around 3:00 you finally woke up to see that you were laying on Ojiro’s lap.

Your pov*

Huh? Where am-- this is Ojiro’s house.. Did I.. fall asleep? *You look up* Ojiro?!? Wait...DID YA FALL ASLEEP ON HIM?!?

Ojiro had been asleep for an hour after the past events. You were too embarrassed and lazy to wake him up so you laid there until you felt like he was about to wake up. A quick fifteen minutes later Ojiro had woken up and wasn’t quick to remember that you were in his house.

Oh hey Ojiro! You finally woke up!

GAHH! Oh hey Y/N...you kinda shocked me there.

Oh I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you…I was just chilling while you were asleep and well I’ve known you since kindergarten and you can forget things easily.

Classic me…*he looks at the clock and sees the time; 4:03 a.m* Hey it’s pretty early in the morning so why don’t you stay over and have breakfast with me and maybe come with me to the store?

Oh yeah of course! That sounds like fun!!!

Ojiro had gotten up and started making breakfast and you decided to help him cook. After eating and doing things that you would normally do in the morning you headed out the time is currently 5:23. You headed out to the store and had gotten some things, and not much later you had bumped into Izuku and Kirishima.

Izuku: Oh hey Y/N! Long time no see! How have you been!!!

Kirishima: Oh yeah hey Y/N! Oh and, *Kiri looks at Ojiro and scoffs in disgust* you…

Izuku: Anyway what are you doing here Y/N and with...THAT.

You clearly saw that Ojiro was uncomfortable and a bit sad.

Will you

A)stand up for Ojiro. or

B)leave Kiri and izuku and continue shopping with Ojiro

If you choose A:

Ok… at first it was pleasant to see y’all again… OF COURSE until you both started talking bad about Ojiro so you both can go on about your day without talking to me or Ojiro. Also has anyone told you that that green hair REALLY doesn’t look good on you. And you Kiri, maybe you should have just given up on being a hero in middle school cuz right now you and Izuku are acting like bullies or even worse a Whole VILLAIN.

You and Ojiro walked away.

Umm...Y/N… thanks for what you did back there…

No problem Ojiro! * a slight blush runs across your face. *

If you choose B:

You had enough of Kiri and Izuku picking on Ojiro so you had used your quirk just to paralyze Kiri and Izuku long enough for you both to leave far from the two.

Umm...Y/N… why would you do that…

I did it because I had enough of them talking to you like that and plus I didn’t want to go off on them or I may have gone hostile like in the sixth grade…

Thank you…

No problem…* a slight blush runs across your face. *

A few hours later you and Ojiro had finally finished shopping. It was originally planned to take at most five minutes but of course you love food (cuz who doesn’t) you had to stop at each free sample stand and there were a lot of free samples, it had also spoiled what Ojiro had in mind.

Y/N: Who knew that those double built burger bite would be so well...BUILT!

Ojiro: I mean the man there did warn us about how stuffed the little thing was.

Y/N: Well any ways Ojiro, you said you wanted to tell me something when we got back to your place, right?

Ojiro: Umm...well you see…

As Ojiro was about to explain himself you had bumped into another old classmate Katsuki Bakugo or as you called him Kacchan, he always let it slide because he was one of the people who had and still did have a crush on you.

Kacchan: Oh hey Y/N! How are you!

Y/N: Hi Kacchan I’m good! How are you!

Ojiro: Hello Bakugo.

Kacchan: My day was pretty trash till now. What brings you here?

Y/N: Shopping with Ojiro. What bout you?

Kacchan: Oji-who?

Y/N: Oh yeah! You had just remembered that Katsuki never used anyone’s name besides your name so he never learned anyone’s name. I was just going shopping with monkey man as you would call him.

Ojiro: I—um me and Y/N need to get going. * Ojiro grabs your hand and pulls you toward the way of his house. *

The longer Ojiro was holding your hand the more you would blush. Before you knew it you were at his house.

Y/N:Hey Oji-kun. Um you can let go of my hand now...you said this while hiding your heavy red blush that ran across your face giving you a warm prickly feeling.

Ojiro: Oh! I’m sorry Y/N I really didn’t mean to! I was just —wait O-OJI-KUN?!?

Y/N: IM SORRY OJIRO I WAS THINKING OF A NICKNAME FOR YOU BECAUSE I GAVE EVERYONE A NICKNAME IN HIGH SCHOOL SO I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE CUTE—I MEAN NICE!!!

Ojiro: N-No Y/N it’s fine I’m the sorry one for holding your hand without permission.

After everything was settled down and you had fallen asleep on the couch Ojiro had left to pickup something he said he had ordered.

⚠️⚠️From this point on the story is in Ojiro’s view point.⚠️⚠️

Ojiro had left to get something he had ordered then he started over thinking.

Ojiro’s pov: all that’s left is for me to pick up Y/N’s favorite flowers that I ordered and then I should be ready for the confession… Oh but what if they say no and what if they...no it’s their choice and their heart… I’ll except any answer even if it’s not the one I wanted…

Ojiro had gotten the flowers and had left the ordering place and returned to his house fast enough in order to complete everything else that he had planned out. When he got home you were still sleeping and he was able to finish the plan.

Ojiro: Hey Y/N… wake up something came up..

Y/N: what’s wrong Oji-Kun? Is it something bad?

When you woke up and rubbed your eyes you had seen a homemade cake with frost blue frosting and a bouquet of flowers but not any flowers, they were your favorite ones.

Y/N: Hey Oji-kun? What’s all this?

He handed you a card that read “ If you keep reading this at a slower pace then you will be giving a surprise that may be good or bad depending on how you feel about the gift giver. Now at this point you can look up.

And so you did and saw Ojiro with a poster with the words of your favorite poem How do I love thee by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.

Ojiro: How do I love Thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to depth and breadth and height My soul can reach when feeling out of sight For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.

Y/N: O-oji-kun??? * a blush runs across your face and you can feel your heart practically beating out of your chest. *

Ojiro: Y/N what I’m trying to say is… I love you to the point where every encounter we have I want to hold you in my arms and never let go. I love you to the point that whenever you aren’t with me my heart begs for your smile, your laugh, your face and your everything. I envy other men that get your full attention to the point where I wish we were the only two there. Y/N わたしは、あなたを愛しています(Watashi wa, anata o aishiteimasu/ I love you)

Y/N: I-Ojiro.. 私もあなたを愛してます

(Watashi mo anata o aishitemasu/ I love you too)

You run up to Ojiro and give him a kiss and he was caught dumbfounded but quickly returned the tender kiss tilting his head to match up with your lips perfectly.

PART TWO—FINAL PART—END

[grimoiresontape]

Reading Room: Demetrius Lacroix

This week I am delighted to be joined by my dear friend and godbrother-twice-over Demetrius Lacroix, to talk about good divination practices, client care, and combining community-minded charity and spirituality. Demetrius is a Tarot Reader, an Oungan Asogwe in Haitain Vodou and the co-owner of Botanica Macumba, an up-and-coming spiritual supplies store and community space down in the New Orleans.

Al: Laroye! Thanks for having this conversation with me. You are a great reader in many different styles and systems of divination. How do you help a client decide which kind of divination is best for them? When do you recommend, say, tarot over palmistry?

Demetrius: I try to guide all my clients to the information that will help them the most: Tarot and Palmistry are two of the prime examples that people have come to expect and ask for. Many of them are not aware of the ways these two divination systems work. Tarot for me is highly detailed, and lays out a very wide story and can tell the story with depth. Palmistry lays out many details as well, but they pertain more directly to the client themselves, their likes and dislikes, and the general things they can expect throughout their lifetime. The time-line of the information is much broader, much longer, and therefore not always totally helpful. Many of my clients are looking to know what is happening in the right now, this coming week, their relationship today, and I find that for me Tarot answers this more clearly than palmistry.

A: That makes a lot of sense, palmistry being more concerned with the individual’s whole life. If I have a case that needs concrete specificity cartomancy is usually my go-to. I am very much a fan of Professor Porterfield’s cartomancy as taught in his A Deck of Spells book - very historically-grounded Hoodoo style of reading playing cards to answer questions and remediate problems. 

Geomancy is also good at delivering perspective on particular plans and projects, but is still a little less well known unfortunately. So, hey, what’s the weirdest form of divination you’ve ever heard of or seen?

D: My Mambo in Haitian Vodou reads with people’s left shoes, I’m not sure how that works but she can do it!  And while not necessarily being weird, it reading of molten tin or lead, when it is poured into water. The results are determined much like in Ceromancy, divination through candle wax.

I sometimes wish I could sit in a cave with lots of fumes of various burning organic matter and scry into a mirror or darkness, giving messages of fortune, for now I'll stick to my reading room in Botanica Macumba.

A: What do you find to be the the subtlest or trickiest kinds of questions or clients?

 D: I find that questions about love tend to be the most overtly tricky – I always try to divine on relationships from the perspective of both individuals, so I can try to read with balanced perspective. I feel like some people try to use divination as a way to get someone to validate or confirm plots and decisions that may not be given approval by their friends or other associates.  I have found that in readings, the client may not be willing to tell the full truth about a situation, and that they may be reactionary when you tell them news that is contrary to what they want to hear. Even though I have a tendency to be direct and straightforward where someone may feel like my message is an insult to them or what they value, it’s rarely my goal to.offend, it is my goal to interpret the information to you as is being presented. I believe the client wants a genuine reading, not just a cheerleader for bad habits and decisions.

 A: I like this technique of divining on the relationship from both perspectives. That’s really neat. So much helping people navigate their current relationships is about identifying unspoken projections and expectations, and the bridges and gaps and overlaps between two people, not some simple pronouncement on The Relationship as an abstract concept. 

D: It takes two to tango: I can’t place a value of helpful/not helpful good/bad without seeing both dancers moves across the floor.

 Also, I find that some people become obsessed with mysterious life questions like "when will I die?"

 A: That’s a puzzling one isn’t it? I’ve only ever been asked that by troublesome “clients” to be honest; specifically ones not taking the reading seriously. On the other hand, I’ve also heard answering that question described as The Worstest Immoral Thing a diviner can do. Personally, I think there are more unethical practices than that. Historically, it was a common question, and especially the particular variant “Will my spouse or I die first?” It was considered a pragmatic question; a matter of making informed decisions and making life plans. That said, I also accept it’s a pretty morbid and potentially saddening thing to know, of course.

D: It’s not that I don't think it should not be done, or entertained as an idea; just that usually the people asking won't profit from that kind of information, nor do I believe that tarot is going to draw that out clearly.

A: How much ritual do you do around your reading? Do you light a lot of candles, invoke anything particular, or just flip cards straight off?

D: I have very subtle rituals, I read both in stores, private homes and outdoors. I usually have a candle and water, maybe use some incense to clear the air, and to make a space somewhat suitable to the Spirits, and Ancestors. I also use cloth that I have done value spiritual work on top of. Also a lot of the seemingly random items I bring with me generally serve some purpose for me during before or after the reading.

A: What are your go-to sorceries and tricks to keep your divining muscles fit and active?

D: first thing is to make sure you are taking care of your self, and your Ancestors and Spirits. There are a lot of baths and observances you can do. I have a regiment of baths, special cleanings, ways I treat my cards, and the maintenance of amulets and rituals. For people who read like you or I, I also recommend downtime, I like to take long walks, have peacefully silence or music something that allows me to collect myself so I can be in peace and centered with my own spirit so I can continue giving quality readings. 

A: You co-run Botanica Macumba down in New Orleans - a magic shop everyone should go check out! - and have an upcoming event combining charity work for local underprivileged kids and celebrating the Lwa. Could you tell our readers a little more about that?

D: Vodou, along side many of the West African Diaspora Traditions talk a lot about community which is seen in action in their places of origin like Haiti, Cuba, Brazil etc, where people are coming together to make a difference in their own lives and the lives of others. It’s important to me, and my business partners that we do the same. In these traditions, the spiritual work is not always an elaborate ceremony, sometimes it’s the work that lets us connect people with blessings, that helps feed a person who has nothing, or in the case of our next event, the prayer service to the Marassa, it allows us to help children. The Marassa are the Divine twins, and are the spiritual representatives of the potential power of children. Children during the holiday season all over will be given gifts, and it's a sad day when a child doesn’t have a gift to open on a day when all their peers across the country will open presents and be surprised. To give a moment of joy to a child is an act of service to the Marassa and the many other lwa. Mindless religious observation - while not taking into account the living world, and considerations made for humans, or the world around us - is often the norm, but we're proud to not be normal.

Toys for Blessings: A Service for the Marassa, The Divine Twins Botanica Macumba, in conjunction with Crescent City Conjure and Alombrados Oasis O.T.O., will be hosting a charity toy drive, prayer service, celebration, and blessing for the community on Sunday 8 December at 7:00pm. The service will include a ritual blessing from the Marassa and a celebratory feast in their honor after the service. Entrance is free for everyone who brings a new unwrapped toy for donation to help children who would otherwise go without. Alternately a $20 donation for toys is also welcome. This is traditionally known as an Action de Grace ( an action of grace). We offer this act of charity in exchange to receive blessings from the Marassa for ourselves and for the community. The Marassa are the Divine Twins and are the Spiritual force of children. They are seen as givers of blessings, they multiply blessings, and duplicate and continue to replicate the way they are interacted with; just like the way we treat children will reflect in how they will develop. To help children experience joy and happiness is the ultimate service to the Marassa and this joy is multiplied by them. It is our hope to elevate the children of today to a station beyond even what is attainable for us. Please bring a new unwrapped gift, or cash donation. Botanica Macumba is located at 3154 St. Claude across the street from the Family Dollar.

[chocoluckchipz]

Home Fur Christmas

                                      Read it on A03, WattPad, FF.net

It all started a few weeks ago when Mme Bustier announced that this year their class would be participating in a "Secret Santa" game with a little twist, more specifically - it would be a competition of who could think of the best gift for their assigned person. The main idea was to get to know their classmates a little better before their graduation this spring since to win they had to make an effort and really think, maybe, even do some research for their presents to reflect the personality and preferences of the recipient. Imaginations could run wild, but the presents had to be given anonymously on Christmas Day. They could be sent by mail, dropped off at the door, asked to be delivered by a friend, etc. However, the recipient couldn't know who their present was from under any circumstances - that would automatically disqualify the sender from the competition. After obtaining their gifts, the recipients had to write a mini-essay on how they felt their gift was appropriate and how it made them feel. The giver of the best "made me feel special" present would receive a valuable award. Some rumours said it to be an impressive amount gift card to the nearest mall, others - tickets to an event of your choice, VIP lounge, backstage access. At any rate, everyone was very excited, motivated and eagerly preparing for the Secret Santa of their lives.

That same afternoon the names were put into individual envelopes and given out. Adrien received Nathaniel. He didn't know much about the boy, but everyone knew he loved art so without any delays Adrien walked into a high-end art store and bought art supplies any artist could use, trying not to go overboard to not give himself away as the only one in class, apart from Chloe, who could splurge a small fortune on a present. Next, he packed everything up in nice packaging and gave it to a courier with instructions to be delivered on Christmas Day. Having done that, Adrien decided to forget about the present he was supposed to receive for now. It was still a week before the big day so why worry and stress about it beforehand?

Imagine his surprise when two days before Christmas he received a letter from his “Secret Santa” telling him to pack his things for the weekend, expect the weather to be snowy and be ready by 12 pm to be picked up at his front door. Amazed, he couldn't believe it at first but, remembering that his father was away for a week and wouldn't be even in town on Christmas Day, Adrien decided to risk it. Hesitantly, he found Natalie and inquired if she wouldn't mind letting him go away for a few days without telling his father. To his surprise, Natalie answered that he was already booked for the next four days starting today at 12 pm by someone called “Secret Santa” and that his father had been aware and approved of this event. Of course, she would accompany him along with his personal driver. Adrien gulped, grinned and excited beyond his wildest beliefs rushed upstairs to pack his bag.

At 12 pm sharp one of his father's cars pulled at the front door. Natalie slipped into the front seat as Adrien opened the back door only to find Nino already sitting there. The four of them travelled for most of the day with just a few stops, yet the only information Adrien was able to get out of his friend was that this trip was indeed Adrien's present from his Secret Santa and that this person would be there but he couldn't tell him who it was for self-evident reasons. By the evening they arrived, much to Adrien's surprise, to his father's cottage in the French Alps. It was a huge house, rivalled only by his mansion in Paris and they rarely used it. However, today it was buzzing with life as numerous adults and kids roamed around. Upon their arrival, Adrien found out at last that it was Nino, Alya and Marinette's families that would be sharing the next few days with him, including Christmas and meaning that this year Adrien wouldn't be spending the holidays alone in his mansion. Adrien gulped. Being surrounded by his friends and their families on holidays at this now warm and welcoming mountain cottage was the best present he could've ever received, and the only thing that could've made it better would be his father's presence, but that was, unfortunately, impossible.

The next day, as soon as Adrien woke up, his friends informed him that they were going to the nearest ski resort and that he was going along, no objections accepted. That brought him here – staring in shock at his careless, ignorant friends who seemed to be eager to send Marinette on her last journey.

Adrien couldn't shake the shock off. They were definitely either suddenly exceptionally ignorant, or they simply didn't care for their friend anymore, which wasn't like them at all. Then maybe he was missing something? Because this was Marinettethey were talking about. Marinette, who during their last year in school was still tripping on nothing from time to time. City-widefamouslyclumsyMarinette. Marinette who finally stopped stuttering and freezing around him only around a year ago at the age of seventeen, but still couldn’t sometimes keep her balance. That was adorable in a way but snowboarding? Really? Why in the world were both Nino and Alya so calm and fine with that idea? Adrien didn't know, but unlike them, he was too young to see one of his closest friends die just because the other two hadn't cared enough for her.

“Well, then I guess I'm going with Mari,” Adrien declared, murmuring under his breath as he walked away, “Someone has to keep an eye on her to make sure she is still alive for Christmas.”

“You are so welcome, girl,” Alya winked at Marinette as soon as Adrien disappeared inside the rental facility to exchange his skis for the right equipment. “Please, don't waste this chance again. I can't wingman for you forever. He'll start to suspect things soon, and then you are on your own.”

“Alya,” Marinette scolded her slyly smiling friend. “I told you already multiple times - this weekend is for Adrien to enjoy himself, not for you to scheme around. It's hopeless anyway,” she breathed out sadly. “Adrien sees me only as a friend, and you know it. I am not so stupid anymore to understand that. Sometimes I even feel that I should just give up and maybe give someone else a chance.”

“Oh, and is there someone else?” Alya teased.

A light blush that suddenly appeared on Marinette’s face threatened to tell a lot more than the girl was comfortable to share for now, but fortunately for her, Alya suddenly turned around, threw a quick “Good luck!” and tugged Nino away without any explanation. As soon as the pair disappeared into the crowd, Marinette understood the reason for the rush.

“Did the guys leave already?” Fully equipped for snowboarding Adrien appeared behind her.

“Yup, you just missed them,” she smiled at him. “We should head out too.”

“Mari, hey wait,” Adrien caught her sleeve. “Are you- are you absolutely sure- about this whole thing- I mean snowboarding thing?”

“What? Are you scared?”

“No,” he yelped. “I am just- well, I'm concerned?”

“About what?” Marinette cocked her head to the side. She suspected what Adrien was concerned about, but she wanted to hear him say it. She chuckled to herself - Adrien is in for quite a surprise, and after this trip, she was sure he would never look at her the same way.

“Well, you know- you- I mean- Honestly, I don't want to sound mean or anything—" Adrien rubbed the back of his neck, “—it doesn't mean that I don't think that- that you are capable, or anything-”

“Is this about me being clumsy and tripping a lot?” Marinette finally took pity on him.

“Mayyyyyybe?” Adrien bit his lower lip under Marinette’s stern look. “Mari, look. I just don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“I won’t,” she replied calmly and picked up her equipment. “Let’s go and don’t worry, Adrien. I can snowboard.”

“But don't you think skiing would've been a safer choice?” he asked, following her to the lift station.

“Nope,” Marinette smiled. “Skiing requires me to use my two feet separately with two long sticks tied to them and, as you know, I will trip over nothing. Do I need to explain what will happen as soon as I try to ski?”

Adrien sighed and shook his head.

“Good,” Marinette continued. "Snowboarding, on the other hand, ties both of my feet to a single board, so I have fewer chances of that. Hence for me, snowboarding is safer."

“But it also requires a lot of balance and- you know, other similar skills,” Adrien added nervously, not knowing what other skills exactly apart from balance it would require since, to be honest, he'd never snowboarded before. For Adrien, though, it wouldn't be a problem. Being a superhero had its perks and kept Adrien in top-notch physical shape. He also, grew up skateboarding in his room all the time which looked quite similar to snowboarding in techniques. However, Adrien doubted Marinette had practiced either of those sports or had his stamina. At least, not that he knew of her and Adrien liked to think that he'd known a lot about his friends.

“And you think I don't have what it takes?” Marinette stopped and stared at him.

His smile tensed. “I didn't say that.”

For a moment Marinette narrowed his eyes; then breathed out a heavy sigh. It was the weekend for him after all, she reminded herself. Putting her board down, she smiled at him, her face filling with tenderness.

“Alright,” she said. “If you don't want to go snowboarding, that's fine. We can do something else instead as long as we both enjoy it, deal?”

Her eyes full of softness and love, she asked, “What do you, Adrien, want to do?”

Adrien didn't answer. Not right away, at least. Stunned, he just stood there and stared back speechless. There were only a few times he had heard this phrase in his life and all of them were too far back in his memory to even remember right away. He thought it was his mom who used to say that, but not anymore. Now it was always, “Adrien do this!”, “Adrien wouldn't you do that?”, “I expect you to fulfill this, Adrien!”, “It's your duty, Adrien!”.

It was never “Adrien, what do you want to do?” anymore.

Accustomed to such ways, Adrien hadn't even considered what he wanted to do up to this point - skiing or snowboarding? He was just going with the flow. But now, still taken aback a bit, Adrien looked around for some other options of activities and not finding anything that would truly catch his attention, turned back to the girl in front of him.

“Are you sure you'll be fine snowboarding?”

“I was completely honest when I said that it was the safest option for me here.”

“Then I would like to snowboard too,” he smiled back, starting to walk ahead. “Just promise not to die on me, Mari. Or break something. Ok?”

Marinette giggled and followed Adrien, her thoughts running ahead of her. Graduation was less than six months away and their ways would part, probably, forever. Marinette sighed as her heart tightened. She had to give up on Adrien. She absolutely had to. Not on their friendship but on her futile crush. They'd been friends for three years, close friends for two and even after all this time, the best Marinette could muster was to not stutter around him as even the thought of confessing her true feelings to Adrien paralyzed her tongue every time. At this point in her life, Marinette didn't even really try anymore. There were things she just couldn't do, and maybe, just maybe, it was for the best to remain just friends until the end, especially because that silly Chat Noir was slowly but surely clawing his way right into her heart.

Marinette smiled to herself. At least, one thing with her partner was sure - Chat Noir loved Ladybug. He was loyal, honest, kind and funny. She trusted him with her life. She also loved him back and, to be frank, being at that age when she wanted to love, to date and to share experiences with that special someone, Marinette was seriously considering revealing herself to Chat. She didn't care who he was under that mask; her devotion to him grew every day, but for them to have a real chance, they needed to take down their masks. Getting nowhere with Adrien, Marinette was finally ready for that. In fact, it was as good as decided that after she goes back to Paris Ladybug would ask Chat Noir for a meeting and then- then everything would change.

“Hey, Mari, are you ready?” A familiar voice brought her out of her thoughts. “We have to get off soon.”

The girl looked around, stunned. How did she miss getting her gear on, getting on a ski lift and riding almost up to the top?

“Nervous?”

“No,” she smiled at Adrien and got ready. “Just was lost a bit in my thoughts. Thanks for alerting me.”

“Snow problem,” he grinned in return. Startled, Marinette blinked, looking at Adrien’s exceedingly satisfied face. There was a rumour floating around, started by Nino as far as the girl knew that Adrien loved puns, but no one was able to confirm it. Nino claimed that the blond opened up his true nature only to a few select people and he was very proud to be one of them. Actually, he seemed to be the only one so far, but who could validate it?

“Seriously?”

“It’s such an ice day, Mari.” Adrien continued to grin. “Don't give me the cold shoulder. I won’t be able to handle that and will have a meltdown. Purrr-etty please.”

“Oh, geez,” Marinette huffed and got off her seat.

Adrien followed closely behind. He slid a few meters before sitting down to adjust his bindings and straps. It took him only a few minutes, but when he lifted his head, Marinette was already heading down the hill. The start didn't look that bad - she was going slowly but confidently. No trembling, shaking or falling so far. Soon she stopped and turned around waving him to follow. Adrien smiled and tried to start. It shouldn't be hard. It should be just like skateboarding.

A few moments later they were on a roll. It was similar to skateboarding after all and Adrien got the hang of the moves pretty fast. His Chat Noir shenanigans also helped him to grasp the concept efficiently and quickly. But when proud of his achievements, he looked a little distance ahead of him, he almost lost his balance and flipped over. That couldn't be his clumsy friend Marinette so confidently and effortlessly snowboarding down the hill at full speed and not even breaking a sweat, smiling, enjoying herself and pulling all kinds of turns and stunts. The confidence he'd never suspected Marinette could possess was suddenly on a full display. Her obviously very fit, clad in a red snowsuit figure was gracefully gliding across the snow, and just for a moment, Adrien thought that she looked exactly like his Lady swinging between the roofs of Paris. The same confidence, same posture and moves, same drive- Adrien had to blink a few times to get back to reality.

“Must be missing Ladybug a lot,” he reasoned. “I haven’t seen her for a few days now so that must be it.”

A soft smile crept on his face as he started to imagine what the love of his life was probably doing now. Was she busy with the holidays? Was she with her family, her friends? Did she remember him for at least a moment? He hoped that Hawkmoth was also in the holiday spirit and took a break from his evil doings. He really should've had told her that he was leaving for the weekend, but it all happened so fast and spontaneous, he hadn't had a chance.

Bam!

Adrien didn't finish his thought as he flew straight into something – someone it seemed – at full speed and took that person down with him. They tumbled, limbs tangled together, boards painfully hitting their legs. He heard a yelp, and his head hit something hard when the rolling had finally stopped. His nostrils, however, hit the jackpot. Ever since he became Chat Noir, Adrien had heightened senses, but even without them, he would've been able to recognize this smell anywhere – a bouquet of warmth and sweetness, a mind-bewildering mix of vanilla, strawberry and chocolate. Only one person he knew so far smelled like this. Not that he was going around smelling people all the time, but Ladybug, the girl he was hopelessly in love with for the past three years, and he were caught in a few rather compromising and intimate positions more than a couple of times due to the nature of their extracurricular activity of saving Paris. Each time he had a speck of a minute to enjoy that heavenly scent and right now his nose was buried into the crook of someone's neck, and it smelled exactly like Ladybug.

Adrien’s eyes flew open as he raised himself above that person. He gulped as he realized just who was underneath him this time. To make sure that he didn't imagine things, Adrien removed her eye gear to see her full face, because her lips- he swallowed- her lips were dangerously similar to those he spent too much time dreaming of kissing - pink, full, luscious lips of his Lady. But then again - that was probably as well his wishful imagination. He must be missing her too much because there was absolutely no way. He shook his head and whispered,

“Marinette? Are you alright? I am so sorry. Please, say something.”

A few muscles on her face twitched as the girl let out a weak groan and opened her eyes looking right at him. His breath hitched. It must have been the striking contrast of the white snow or maybe the closest yet proximity to Marinette he'd ever had, but Marinette's eyes were sky blue just like- He swallowed uneasily.

“You have her eyes,” Adrien murmured before he could stop himself.

“Hmmm?” Marinette shifted, and Adrien drew back, sitting up and pulling her after himself. “Whose eyes?”

Adrien nervously chuckled, removing his goggles, but even that small delay wasn’t enough to come up with ideas to explain his words. So he mumbled again, “Did you know you have bluebell eyes?”

“Yes?” Marinette frowned. “I've had them my whole life. So, whose eyes do I have?"

“Um,” Adrien blushed, taking a better look at Marinette. It wasn't just the colour anymore. The shape, the curve, the swing of her eyelashes and the way she narrowed them at him at the moment. It all looked so similar.

"There is a girl I like,” he finally whispered, unable to come up with a better excuse on a fly. “She also has bluebell eyes- just like yours.”

Marinette blinked. Adrien liked someone? An unexpected revelation stung a little less than she thought it would. She probably had her growing feelings for Chat Noir to thank for that, but, in any case, this discovery only made her decision so much easier. Now Marinette knew for certain that she would give Chat Noir a chance once she was back in Paris.

“You like a girl?” she smiled back.

“Yes,” Adrien replied trying his best to avoid her gaze - it was unfair to compare his best friend and Ladybug. He didn't want to complicate anything on either field. He didn't want to look at either girl and think how similar, if not the same, their eyes were.

“And you never told us?” Despite the heartbreak, Marinette found herself a little curious. What kind of a girl could capture Adrien’s attention?

“Ummm,” Adrien stood up, nervously chuckling. “You guys don’t personally know her, so I didn't want to bring it up. Plus, she is not interested in me, so there was nothing to bring up in the first place.”

“How could any girl not be interested in you, Adrien?” Marinette rose up too. “You've made me curious. Now you have to tell me more.”

“It's a long story, Mari. Long and boring,” he nervously chuckled. “And there is no happy ending.”

“Well, is she taken yet?” asked Marinette while taking a closer look at her bindings.

“I don’t think so? At least she hasn’t told me that she is.”

“Then there is still a chance for you, right?” she smiled. “And, fortunately for me, it looks like we have plenty of time for your story.”

Marinette detached her board and showed him one of the straps. It was snapped in two, due to their collision.

“I can’t use it safely anymore so we’ll have to walk down the hill from here. A long and boring story will be quite appreciated.”

For a few minutes, Marinette waited for Adrien to remove his board before starting going down.

“So? The girl? Tell me more about her.”

“What do you want to know?” Adrien yielded. Marinette was one of his closest friends, his first and best friend, after Nino of course. Actually, that was probably debatable at the moment as well since the DJ started to spend so much time with Alya that Marinette could easily rival him for the title. If he'd be honest, she'd possibly win with no effort whatsoever because of how incredibly kind, talented, trustworthy, fun to be with and beautiful Marinette was. Adrien didn't think there was anything they didn't share as of now, apart from his superhero secret and everything that goes along with it, including, Ladybug and his love for her. But still, Marinette was so incredible that just for a moment, he found himself thinking that if it wasn't for Ladybug-

“I suspect you won't mention any names?” Marinette asked, breaking his train of thought. They slowly walked down the hill, their boards on their shoulders side by side but Adrien couldn't look at her anymore, as a thick blush rapidly filled his face, his last thought pounding on. Was there a chance he liked Marinette more than just a friend?

“I’m sorry but I can’t,” he answered her question to distract himself from his sudden realization. “She is kind of-”

“Don't worry. That's fine,” Marinette interrupted. “I understand. Tell me about her personality? How does she look? What does she like? You know, who is she as a person?”

“Well,” Adrien started, unable to withhold a lovesick grin that always seemed to creep on his face at the slightest mentioning of his Lady.

“She is the bravest girl I've ever met—" an image of Marinette standing up to Chloe and not faltering in the slightest suddenly popped into his mind. She was their class president for the last few years, beating Chloe out of the running a while ago. One must be quite brave to go against the force of nature that was Chloe Bourgeois.

“She’s really smart-” Adrien continued, feeling a bit uneasy. Marinette was also smart. She helped him to escape that Evillustrator glass cage. Her marks were impeccable, despite her frequently being late or absent from the class. She always seemed to have a solution for everything at a moment's notice. That diary box of hers that Sabrina tried to steal? It was worthy of separate praise. Marinette was brilliant. She was incredibly clever.

“She- she is ki- kind- very kind-” Adrien’s stomach tightened uncomfortably, his eyes widening as the memories of all little acts of kindness suddenly descended on him all at once. Marinette was exceptionally kind and considerate of others. The way she stood up for Mylène, for Juleka or even Ivan- How she never laughed at Nathaniel's crush on her but was quite understanding about it- how she worried about her uncle- She was especially kind to him too, giving him presents on every holiday. Except for that first year when his father gave him that blue scarf, Marinette had never forgotten his birthday and her handmade gifts were always the ones Adrien looked forward to the most.

“She- um- she hates l- lies-” Adrien felt like he really must have hit his head hard because how could you explain why he needed to remember at that very moment that Marinette absolutely despised lies as well. Chloe and that election, her uncle's soup sabotage, the hat competition! She always called out the liars. Marinette hated lies as much as Ladybug did.

“She is incredibly fit and coordinated,” he breathed out rapidly, almost proudly remembering his friend's famous clumsiness. You could say that Adrien brought this aspect up almost in self-defence because there was absolutely no possible way- His mind wandered back to just ten minutes ago, and he gulped. There has to be something different about the two girls! They couldn't be-

“She is- she is stunning. She has this gorgeous- black hair with a slightly- um- blue- bluish hue,” he glanced over. “Just… just like- just- like- yours. Freckles!” he almost cried out. “She has those tiny adorable freck-”

Marinette turned around, probably, to check if he was all right because Adrien Agreste sounded very strange right now - nervous, almost frantic and stuttered and he had never stuttered before. As their eyes met, Adrien almost jumped. More precisely Adrien froze as soon as he spotted adorable tiny freckles dusted on the plain of her nose.

“Ummm-” his voice trembled. He already compared their lips and their eyes, and somehow, he thought that checking the curl of Marinette's nose would be foolish but- too late.

“So, I think that’s it. Enough about me,” Adrien squeaked. He needed time to process this all- whatever it was. “Tell me about yourself? Do you like someone?”

Marinette sadly smiled, continuing to walk on. This girl must be rather incredible to render Adrien Agreste such a mess by merely speaking of her. There was absolutely no way Marinette could ever compete with someone like that - he obviously felt very strongly about this mystery person. In any case, Marinette was almost glad it came to this rather than her confessing to him and getting rejected, making their close friendship quite uncomfortable for both of them. Besides, it would be so much easier to move on and give Chat Noir a chance now that she knew that Adrien was out of the question. From now on, Adrien would be her friend only, no romantic feelings involved. Period. So Marinette might as well tell him that she likes someone else too and by doing so burn that bridge completely.

“I do actually,” she responded after a little while.

“Ohhhh! That's interesting,” Adrien seized the moment for changing the topic. “Tell me more.”

“Well,” she smiled. “I won't mention any names also, but he is my best friend.”

Adrien stopped. “I thought I was your best friend? Mari, don't tell me-”

“No,” Marinette giggled. “I do have a life outside of our time together, you know.”

Good, Adrien thought to himself but not without the slightest bit of a disappointment hidden deep inside. He wouldn't want it to become any weirder than he already managed to make it. Plus, it gave him a reason to ignore whatever feelings were just happening because falling in love with someone who didn't love him back was the last thing he wanted right now. Adrien already had one of those experiences and that was enough.

“But is he more handsome than this your best friend?” he found himself tease despite his better judgment.

“More handsome?" Marinette stopped and looked into the distance in concentration. She’d never contemplated the issue, to be honest. "Well, he also has blond hair and green eyes—" she glanced over at Adrien, “—and I think he is about your build and height.”

“Oh, so you have a type when it comes to best friends?”

“Pfft,” Marinette pouted. “Of course not. He might look similar to you, but he is completely different!”

Pausing for a moment, Marinette considered what she knew about both of the boys. Chat was kind, so was Adrien. Chat was brave, so was Adrien. Chat could fight very well. Adrien fenced, knew karate and was fit, so given a chance he would, probably, fare just as well. Chat- She glanced nervously at Adrien and met his curious stare as he waited for her response. Chat- Chat Noir was gentle and seemed to be lonely sometimes? Chat loved sweets? He was reliable? Trustworthy? Something tightened in her stomach. Chat was- What was Chat that Adrien wasn't?

“He loves puns!” she exclaimed.

Adrien felt his heart drop as he raised his eyebrow.

“I love puns too,” he pouted. “Espawcially cat ones. They are paw-sitively the best! Clawsomely and purrfectly apawling! Absolutely meowrvelous! Wouldn’t you say so, purrincess?”

Silently, Marinette stared back at him in horror for some while. He probably overdid it, Adrien thought. That's why he never punned with his civilian friends, apart from Nino and even that was on the very rare occasions. By now he almost accepted that people would never understand his genius.

“Mari, I am sorry-”

“I think we've had enough confessions for today,” she said, turning forward. “Let's go back before Alya sends a rescue party over here.”

Adrien sighed and silently followed his Lady's- no, wait, Marinette's lead. Yes, Marinette, his best friend Marinette, not his Lady Marinette. If only he could stop comparing them in his head over and over again- Then was it really so big of a stretch? No, of course not, because Marinette could definitely be Ladybug. She was that amazing. However, it was just too unbelievable that Adrien would be so lucky as to have her by his side all this time. Or maybe it was just too hard to admit that she was by his side all this time and he was so blind not to see her. So much for his undying love.

The trip back took them only about twenty minutes. Painfully silent twenty minutes that Marinette stomped down the hill while Adrien tried to keep up. Once they reached the bottom and returned their equipment, the girl quickly said that she was too tired for any more activities and needed to go back to the cottage. She told him to stay and wait for Alya and Nino so he could have more fun, but Adrien was in no state for fun himself. They awkwardly walked to the car together and asked Gorilla to drive them back. Twenty more excruciatingly uncomfortable minutes of silence in the car later, Marinette jumped out of the vehicle and zoomed to her room at the first opportunity with just a quick “Thanks. See you later. Bye!” Adrien sighed and headed to his room as well. He had a lot to think about because this- this seemed to be impossible but if it were real- it would change everything.

Marinette ran upstairs to her room as fast as she could and plopped on her bed as soon as the door was shut. She let Tikki out of her hiding place and handed her a cookie. Back to her kwami's concerned question, she murmured that she wanted to be alone. She needed to think because it couldn't be true! Adrien couldn't be Chat Noir! He just couldn't be him because if he were that would mean that- that both Adrien and Chat Noir loved somebody else; somebody so amazing that when he talked of her, he blushed and stuttered and couldn't hold himself together. If Adrien were Chat Noir, Marinette would be all alone and heartbroken.

Marinette didn't count the minutes –or was it hours – she fought her fears under the blankets, but when her cell displayed a message from Alya that they would be back in an hour, the girl noticed that the sun had already started to go down. Tikki peacefully snoozed close by so Marinette looked around the room in a desperate attempt to distract herself. She had to up her mood because her suspicions shouldn't spoil anyone else's evening. Especially Adrien’s. This trip was supposed to be his gift for Christmas. She wanted him to be happy, yet he probably thought her to be some crazy, irrational freak by now.

Her sight stopped on a brand-new sketchbook Chat Noir gave her the last time they saw each other. It wasn't the first time they'd exchanged Christmas presents, but it was the first one they decided that it would be acceptable to give each other something other than food, their usual presents. Food was safe - it could be eaten right away and prevent any possible accidental identity reveals, and they'd done food for years. This time, however, Marinette was already thinking of giving him a chance and so she decided that regular presents would be fine. Their identities' reveal would happen soon after anyway. She knitted him a scarf. He gave her this amazing, leather-bound sketchbook, which must have cost him a fortune. It had a thick cover and an intricate, stylish design on the front. The pages inside were top quality, the ones where you could draw and erase over and over again and it would still look good and clean. And it was thick. It would last her a good few months. Marinette smiled, picking up the book. She resolved right away to put only her best designs in there, and today she would create something amazing for sure. The girl quickly dressed up, took a few pencils and headed downstairs. There was an open deck behind the cottage. The mountain view from there was amazing and it was private enough for her to hide away and put herself back together before the others arrived. Sketching something would only help her.

Adrien was ninety-nine percent sure that Marinette was Ladybug. He had spent the last few hours comparing, analyzing and remembering everything there was to know about the two girls. Their appearances were identical. Their characters were the same. He never saw them standing together side by side or even in the same vicinity, apart from that Timebreaker akuma case but then there were also two Ladybugs in the end as well. Marinette also often ended up being in the same place Ladybug was supposed to be. He stopped short of putting it all in writing and drawing a few charts only because Plagg couldn't stop hysterically laughing at the idea. Well, too bad, because Adrien thought it was an excellent one. He walked up to the window and, looking at the mountains, sighed. If there only was a way to confirm that last percent-

At the corner of his eye, he suddenly saw a petite figure slipping from the house and quickly walking up to the terrace. The girl settled onto the stairs that led into a garden. She opened some book and started drawing. Adrien narrowed his eyes, then walked to the other window, trying to see the book from a different angle. Still, he couldn't distinguish it clearly, but it looked like- There was only one way to confirm. Rushing to his luggage, Adrien pulled something out and breathed in.

“Wish me luck, Plagg,” he whispered. “I’ll need it.”

Fresh air and her favourite pastime did wonder for Marinette. She had only been outside for about ten minutes but she already felt much calmer and more at peace. The mountains seemed to do that to her. The huge peaks covered in snow, so majestic and unwavering, perfectly content and satisfied all year round, be it covered in white powder or overgrown with greenery. They inspired and comforted, anchored to the solid ground. They calmed. Marinette picked a pencil up and started sketching. She looked at the remarkable view in front of her, her mind already creating a gorgeous mountain-inspired dress.

“Hey, Marinette.”

The girl almost jumped out of her skin when Adrien’s voice suddenly sounded loud and clear right next to her ear. She closed her eyes, trying to compose herself for a few seconds but sprung around to give him an earful for scaring the living daylights out of her a moment later.

“Adri-” her tongue froze mid-word as soon as her eyes fell on the scarf in his hands. Adrien grinned and immediately sat beside her.

“You looked a little cold,” he started nervously to rumble. “So I thought you’d like my scarflet. Or my blarf. I haven't decided yet, but it's big and it's warm and the girl I like- Do you remember I told you I like a girl? Yes, you do? Good, cause it was her- she made this for me and I am still not sure what to call it. What do you think – a scarflet or a blarf?”

With trembling hands Adrien wrapped around her petite frame the huge scarf/blanket hybrid that Marinette spent two weeks knitting after Chat Noir told her a story about his mama and how she used to have a huge scarf and how she always wrapped him in it and it was the warmest and the most comfortable thing ever and he loved it just as much as his mom. Well not as much, but it was a close second. That thing was so big that a small Chat Noir could swaddle himself up a few times in it and it was amazing. Unfortunately, it got lost a few months before his mother disappeared. He missed it less than his mama, but he still remembered it almost every time it snowed in Paris. When Ladybug handed him a package a few days ago, he didn't wait to get home to open it. The next half an hour they spent arguing about what to call it – a scarflet –Marinette's favourite– or a blarf –Chat thought it sounded much more hilarious.

“See?” Adrien continued nervously, quickly slipping under the “thing” as well. “Isn't it amazing? We can both fit in here and be warm. Oh,” he made a too fake to be true surprise sound. “That's a cool sketchpad you have there. Can I take a look?”

Shocked, Marinette stared back unable to utter a single word, so when Adrien casually tugged her book away, she let it go easily.

“That’s a cool sketchbook, Mari,” Adrien repeated himself. “I saw something like this at my father's office. Did you know that these covers have a secret compartment? Look. You just open here and you have to press there and then you pull this and voila!”

In astonishment, Marinette watched as somehow Adrien opened the back of the cover and pulled out a small card.

“Oh, hey,” he whispered. “Look, here is a note for you. Have you seen it?”

Adrien stashed the card into her hands. Marinette looked down and gulped. “Meowry Christmas and a Happy Meow Year, my Lady,” it said in neon green letters on a black background. She raised her eyes back at Adrien who at this point looked like he was on the verge of a meltdown himself. He looked at the card one more time before whispering with a shaky voice:

“I went for simple and almost discreet in case someone else would see it and I didn't use too many puns because I know you don't like them, but you'll have to agree that those I did use are pretty good. Classic.” Adrien tried to grin, but it was a shaky and miserable attempt. When Marinette failed to produce any other reaction apart from continuing to stare at him back in shock, Adrien's nervous smile disappeared. He sighed heavily and turned to look at the mountains instead.

“I'm sorry, Marinette,” he whispered a few moments later. “I probably should've said nothing. I know you didn't want to know who we are under those masks but, I guess, I was just a bit too excited that it was you, so I just couldn't keep it in.”

“When?” he suddenly heard a high-pitched squeal.

“When did I find out?” Adrien glanced at the girl who nodded slightly in response. “Just now, when we were going down that hill.”

“How?” Marinette asked again with a more stable but still a bit unusually high for her voice.

“Oh, that just came out of nowhere,” Adrien smiled to himself. “I noticed how you were snowboarding, and that reminded me of how you always fly across the Paris. And then,” he turned back to her. “Then I finally paid more attention to Marinette's eyes when I accidentally ran into you. Everything else just snowballed from there, you can say.”

“Marinette,” Adrien moved closer if that was even possible because at the moment they were sitting side by side covered by the huge knitted scarf. He took Marinette’s hand in his. The girl yelped and looked straight into his eyes. “I am sorry. I didn't think properly, and I should've. I should've respected your desire for privacy. It's just when I realized that you might be my Lady- and when you talked about the boy you like- you know- with blond hair and green eyes--" a small hopeful smile made it back on his face, "--and puns, the one who loves puns- I was kind of thinking- no, hoping that- that it was- me?”

Marinette blushed, blinking a few more times. Her lips parted but no words came out, so Adrien continued.

“Well, even if it wasn't me, I've always wanted to tell you how I feel about you, Mari,” he slowly brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it.

“I love you, Marinette.”

Marinette went crimson. Her lips parted once more but nothing came out again. Then suddenly her eyes saddened and she looked to the ground.

“You mean Ladybug,” she whispered. “You love Ladybug, Adrien.”

“Yes and No,” the boy replied softly. His eyes never left hers while his hand gently took the girl's chin and he lifted her face to him. “I will confess, I still love Ladybug, but to be honest, when I thought about it today, I realized that you are so much cooler, Mari. Not only you possess all of the amazing traits I love Ladybug for, but you also have some extra.”

“You are my best friend, and I can see you whenever I want,” he smiled, gently taking her hand in his. “I can text you in the middle of the night because I have your number and I can take you on a date during the week with ease. Ladybug, on the other hand, appears only every so often and there is no set way for me to contact her anytime I want. I am not even contemplating the idea of us going out in public,” he chuckled to himself. “That would send media into a frenzy, and we’d both lose what little privacy we still have."

“Ladybug tends to keep her life private,” Adrien continued. “But about you, I know so much. Ladybug had never introduced me to her friends and would probably never do so. Your friends happened to be mine as well, and they are wonderful and I already like them.”

“You live in a bakery,” he grinned. Marinette giggled. “And as you know, I love sweets, so you are automatically a better choice. There is so much I don't know about Ladybug, Mari.” His face became instantly more serious. “A lot of things she would never tell either Chat Noir or Adrien. A lot of things she can't tell me for valid reasons. A lot of things I wouldn't be able to tell her also and- I don't think a relationship with lots of secrets between us would work in the long run.” Softly, Adrien brushed Marinette's bangs and tackled some loose hair behind her ear as the girl's blush deepened. “You are also much more beautiful without the mask covering half of your face.”

Unbeknownst to both of them, by this moment Adrien ended up a lot closer to Marinette than before. She could feel the warmth of his body, his soft touch on her hands, his fresh breath on her lips as he leaned even closer.

“Please, tell me you were talking about me, Princess,” Adrien almost purred into her lips, his eyes half-lidded, wandering back and forth from her eyes to her lips. He cupped her cheek and whispered once more: “Please, Mari, tell me, it's me.”

“It has always been you,” Marinette finally whispered back. The next moment she felt something warm and sweet and soft and mint-scented pressing against her lips just as Adrien's strong arms wrapped her in a tight hug. Her head spun, but only a moment later the girl relaxed into his touch and closed her eyes. He angled his head at once and deepened the kiss. Marinette melted, finally responding, and it felt amazing! At this very moment, she didn't care about anything. All that mattered was that Adrien tightly snuggled her to his own warm, muscular frame as he was gently kissing her. Her head kept on spinning, to the point of even her name becoming an abstract concept. Who was she and why do people need to breath when they can be perfectly happy being kissed by Adrien Agreste?

“Hmmm,” someone suddenly cleared his throat just behind them. Adrien pulled back immediately and tensed. His face paled the moment he laid his eyes on the intruder.

“Father?" he asked, his eyes widening and voice cracking in a surprise. “What are you doing here?”

"No ‘welcome home, Father’ or at least a ‘good evening'?" Gabriel's eyebrow rose up. “Where are your manners, Adrien?”

“I'm sorry,” Adrien replied, standing up. “Welcome home, Father. Forgive me my rudeness. I was just surprised to see since you are supposed to be in Milan.”

“I decided to take a little break after all,” Gabriel glanced over at dangerously crimson Marinette paralyzed in her place. “Someone was very convincing that you would appreciate seeing me on Christmas.”

“Really?” Adrien's lips momentarily split into a genuine smile. “You staying for Christmas? That's amazing!”

“Yes,” Gabriel stated calmly and turned around ready to leave. “I just thought you would like to know that, but since I can see that you are busy, I'll take my leave.”

“Father,” Adrien called before the older man could leave. Gabriel turned around and looked questioningly at his son. “Thank you,” the boy smiled. “For coming.”

“I'm glad to see you too, Adrien,” Gabriel shoved his hands into his pockets and turned away again. After a moment, however, he paused and turned around. “Adrien, could you to invite your girlfriend for dinner home next week? I think it's time for us to finally be introduced officially.”

Marinette squeaked for, probably, tenth time that day as Adrien grinned and looked at her.

“Will next week work for you, Mari?”

“Ye-yes-” she quietly whispered back.

“Very well,” concluded Gabriel. “We'll work out the details later. As for now, keep warm, and I'll see you shortly.”

The second the door was closed behind the fashion mogul, Adrien turned to the stunned Marinette and grinned.

“Looks like you’ve got yourself a boyfriend, Puuurincess!”

“I hate you,” the girl pouted and turned away. “You never even asked me.”

Adrien chuckled and swaddled Marinette back into his scarf before kneeling in front of her on a lower step.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” he took her hand in his. “Will you come into my lonely life and make it much brighter and happier by your presence? I promise always to love you and not to demand sweets too often. I can't promise to pun less, and I am sure that you will soon love my sense of humour just as much-”

“It's not about the puns,” she said. “Work on a better timing.”

“Right,” he cleared his throat and continued, “Our differences in opinions aside, will you be my girlfriend, Marinette?”

“I don't know-” Marinette teased, stretching out every word. “I'll need to think about it. Consider all the cons and pros. Evaluate-”

“My Lady,” Adrien playfully threatened. “I will kiss you again even more passionately if you refuse my humble request and this time—" he briefly glanced over her shoulder, “—your parents are peeking from a window on the second floor while my father, Alya and Nino's parents are all looking through the living room windows. Ummmm," he narrowed his eyes. “I think that's Natalie and Gorilla recording us on a cell phone from the kitchen-”

Marinette yelped and quickly turned around. A few curtains wavered back in their place while Sabine and Tom shamelessly waved at her, grinning from ear to ear. Marinette blushed and abruptly stood up.

“We are leaving,” she insisted. “Now.”

“As you wish, my Princess,” Adrien rose up. He quickly picked Marinette up and threw her over his shoulder. The girl yelped with surprise and clutched onto his back tightly while Adrien turned around to face the house. He grinned and waved goodbye to everyone who was hiding behind the curtains before escaping into the garden.

“What are you doing? Put me down, Adrien!” Marinette yelled.

“Don't mind me, my Lady. I'm just collecting my reward for years of patience,” he chuckled and ran faster. Adrien let her down as soon as they were far enough for anyone to see or hear them, and the next hour or so were spent on talking, confessing, making decisions, joking around, rolling eyes at each other, laughing, walking around and simply having the best time of their life. There might have been a few kisses as well but no one dared to pressure the pair for the details when they finally returned to the house.

Alya, as expected, took all the credit for herself. There was no doubt in her mind that years’ worth of scheming had finally paid off and now, thanks to her, Marinette was, at last, the official girlfriend of one and only Adrien Agreste who, to everyone's surprise, had suddenly transformed into a love-sick puppy and couldn’t keep his eyes of Marinette for the rest of the weekend. If it weren't for both of their parents being present, his hands would've been on her too. And maybe his lips as well.

Sitting by the fireplace on the last day of their trip, Adrien dared to cuddle Marinette on a couch after everyone had gone to their rooms. When the time had just slipped past midnight, he buried his nose into the crook of her neck and whispered.

“You were my Secret Santa, Marinette.”

“You can't ask me that question, Adrien, and I can't tell you,” Marinette protested. “That's unfair! The person who did this for you would lose their chance in the competition if you were to find out who he or she is.”

“I'll take you wherever you want, my Lady,” he murmured against her skin. “It will be only tickets and VIP backstage access to Jagged Stone's concert after all. Chloe told me. But I didn't ask you a question, Mari. I know it was you.”

“How?” Marinette asked after a momentary hesitation.

“Because only you are so kind, thoughtful, observant and so loving as to give me the only thing I didn’t have.”

“What do you mean?”

Tightening his embrace, Adrien said, “I am spending Christmas with my friends and their amazing families. My father is spending Christmas with us. And knowing him, I can say that only Ladybug's determination could've gotten through his thick stubbornness. Then, this is the first year since my mom's disappearance that I received so much attention and more than two presents. I've forgotten the time when I felt so loved. I won't even mention all of the delicious food. But most importantly, I am spending this Christmas with my amazing girlfriend. How did you think about all of this, Mari?”

“Well—" She snuggled in, answering. “I did struggle with the ideas on what to give to a handsome, rich boy who already has everything, but then I overheard Nino complaining to Alya that your father would be out of the town for Christmas. Later they told me that since they were dating now, their families decided to join their Christmas trips together. The rest kind of happened from there.”

Gently, Adrien placed a butterfly kiss on Marinette's neck before stirring up. “Oh! One thing I can't understand, though - how did you manage to convince my father not only open up his cottage but also attend himself?”

Marinette giggled, patting his arm. “Let's just say it wasn't easy and I am sure you'll hear about it sooner or later, but it was worth it.” Turning around, Marinette settled so that she could face Adrien. She brushed a few stray hairs from his face and added, “I wanted to give you something special for Christmas because you are very special to me, Adrien.”

Adrien leaned forward whispering against her lips, “You gave me more than something special, Mari. You gave me the best present anyone could ever receive. You gave me home fur Christmas. Thank you, my Lady. Thank you.”

Marinette's eyes fluttered closed as Adrien closed the distance between them, thanking her in a way that she could never have dreamed possible. At least, not so soon but then, who knew what wonderful surprises the future held for them now that the secrets between the two were gone? Marinette smiled against his kiss. She had never looked forward to discovering the future so much as she did now. She hoped that Adrien felt the same way and, by the way he kissed her, there was no doubt in her mind that he was just as eager as her.

Buy Me a Ko-fi

[mikosaura]

7 MUST-HAVE CRYSTALS FOR BEGINNERS.

I wear crystal frequently, almost daily. I wear them to encourage certain traits to develop, I wear them because they match my outfit, and I wear them for their healing powers. I receive many comments and am often questioned about the crystal jewelry I wear.

If you're anything like me, you are incredibly attracted to gemstones. I'm guessing you do because why else would you be here reading about the seven must-have crystals?

Diamonds, Rubies, Emeralds, and Sapphires are prized the world over. These are indeed precious stones; they uplift the heart. Their brightness is what most people think of when they hear the word “crystal.”

Equally prized are the semiprecious stones such as those found on this list: Amethyst, Clear Quartz, Rose Quartz, Citrine, Howlite, Sodalite and Tigers Eye.

While crystals are incredibly fascinating and beautiful—and this adds to their value—they each also hold a sacred meaning.

Many stones and crystals have been used  for thousands of years. In ancient cultures the healing properties of a crystals was as important as their beauty. These properties remain in crystals today.

There are the flamboyant crystals that are eye-catching and incredibly popular. There are also quieter, less outwardly attractive crystals that are nonetheless extremely powerful.

Whether the gemstone is found in it's natural state or faceted and polished, they are equally powerful. Gemstones can be easily overlooked when in their natural, uncut state and often cost a fraction of the price of a faceted stone.

And with so many crystals and gems on the market it's hard to know what to choose, especially if you haven't shopped for crystals before.

If you're overwhelmed by the choices, read on...

THIS LIST

I’ll start by saying, go with your instinct. If you are drawn to a specific stone, there is probably a reason. Do some research about your choice and discover what it is telling you.

Beyond this intuitive decision making, I would say you'll want a selection of crystals that can be used for a variety of purposes. The crystals on this list are the ones that I come back to over and over and the are a good place to start building your foundation on: Amethyst, Clear Quartz, Rose Quartz, Citrine, Howlite, Sodalite and Tigers Eye. Browse through, read the descriptions, and notice if one (or two) is calling to you.

Knowing how to use these crystals is vital if you are to make use of the gifts they offer.

AMETHYST

People seem to love or hate Amethyst (The Stone of Spirituality and Transformation), with very few falling in the middle of the spectrum. Whatever your feelings about Amethyst, it is good for almost every type of magic and is full of goddess energy.

Keep a small piece of amethyst with whatever tools you use for divination, such as tucked into the bag that holds your tarot cards.

Charge Amethyst by the light of the moon, then hold over your heart to take that energy into yourself. (Note: Amethyst fades in the sun! Do not leave in direct sunlight for long periods of time, the moon is better.)

Wear or carry for the sobering effect on overindulgence and physical passions.

Place geodes and clusters in your environment to experience their energy.

Use Single points for healing properties: place the point end toward you to direct energy inward and away to draw out negativity.

Sleep with it under your pillow to help with insomnia and nightmares, to facilitate out-of-body experiences and to bring intuitive dreams.

Use for meditation or scrying

Place over the third eye chakra to stimulate it.

CLEAR QUARTZ

Clear Quartz (The Stone of Power) is a unique crystal, because it is considered universal in its ability to help with a variety of issues. Because of this, it is ideal for beginners.

Its effects are easily observable because it enhances the personal energy of the wearer. Clear Quartz can be “programmed” to hold whatever intention the wearer desires and to magnify that energy.

It is associated with many aspects of witchcraft: the Goddess, the moon, the sun, and the fifth magical element Spirit.

Charge Clear Quartz with moonlight (especially on the full moon)

Place pieces on a your body to provide healing to that/those area.

Create a crystal grid of protection for your room or home by placing Clear Quartz in the corners of a space.

Add to the top of your wand or staff

Hang in front of windows for protective decoration.

Use for moon related rituals.

Use to cleanse and recharge other crystals.

Use this all-purpose stone in practically any other way imaginable.

ROSE QUARTZ

The pink color in this form of Quartz is thought to be caused by the inclusion of Iron and Titanium. Historically, Rose Quartz (The Love Stone) is a symbol of love and beauty. Rose Quartz enhances all forms of love: love of self, a mother’s love, both platonic and romantic love as well as general caring and kindness.

It encourages us to be gentle, peaceful and tender and helps us to opens our hearts. Rose Quartz teaches us forgiveness and tolerance. This truly is a peaceful and calming stone with energies that are gentle and nurturing. A good stone for pregnancy, care givers, lovers and fertility.

Honestly, if I had to choose one crystal from this list it would be Rose Quartz. Who doesn't want or need more calm, joy and love in their life?

Hold Rose Quartz during meditation to allow it's gentle energy to calm you.

Wear it as a pendant over your heart to open and balance your heart chakra.

Give as a gift of renewed friendship, especially at Beltane.

Keep Rose Quartz on your bedside table to promote restful sleep and harmonious partnerships.

CITRINE

Citrine (The Stone of Abundance) is pale yellow in color. It brings happiness, joy and optimism into your life. One of a few minerals on the planet which do not hold or accumulate negative energy, but dispels and transforms it. You don’t have to cleanse Citrine, because it doesn’t hold any negativity!

Citrine energizes and invigorates and it promotes comfort, energy and warmth. Aids in matters of daily living. It is said Citrine will open the mind to new thoughts. Often referred to as the money stone because it is said to attract abundance to you and also teach you how to maintain that abundance.

Wear on fingers or throat in contact with the skin to bring sunshine spirit into the physical realm

Place with your cash box to encourage growing abundance.

DO NOT leave in direct sunlight!

Use to cleanse other crystals.

Meditate with Citrine to cleanse any of the Chakras.

HOWLITE

Howlite (The Stone of Goals) can be used to encourage emotional expression, to facilitate awareness, and to calm communication. It spurs one on towards the completion of goals and assists with removing hesitation. It dispels criticalness and selfish attitudes. It builds towards a decency and encourages those attributes that are building blocks to spiritual growth.

This stone is mostly famous for its ability to be dyed to look like Turquoise. Dyed Hoplite is known in the trade as Turquesite.

Meditate with Howlite to mitigate anger.

Create a grid around your bed, or place it under your pillow, to promote restful sleep.

Carry in your pocket to absorb negativity.

Place on your third eye to help with dream recall, past life recall and spiritual journeying.

SODALITE

Sodalite (The Stone of Insight) gets its name from its high Sodium content. It has been said that the journey from your head to your heart is the longest distance you will ever travel. This is the message of Sodalite.

Use Sodalite to aid in re-establishing inner peace and assist in clearing up mental confusion. Sodalite bridges the gap between your thoughts and your feelings and strengthens the power of mind over body. It is said to offer a cooling effect and may assist with communication difficulties causing disagreements between couples. It is the stone of logic and is very useful in group situations.

Sodalite is a stone for insight, logic, peace, and truth.

Wear during protests or when you need to stand up for yourself and your rights.

Place on your wifi router to block electromagnetic pollution.

Bring to meetings to promote companionship and collaboration.

Meditate with it to give you guidance on the right decision or plan of action.

Place on third eye to deepen and enhance meditation and stimulate your intuition.

Use when doing a tarot reading or other divination activity.

TIGERS EYE

Tigers Eye (The Stone of Brightness) is a combination of Crocidolite fibers and Quartz Crystal. The fibers shine (chatoyancy) with wavy band of light causing the cat’s-eye effect.

This stone is helpful for seeking clarity and enhancing psychic abilities. It is said to encourages one to open us and bloom, it illuminates the blues and bring brightness to ones life. It is also said to bring awareness to ones needs. This is a good stone for “earthy” people and promotes intuitive practices.

Place on Solar Plexus Chakra for spiritual grounding when you feel spaced out or uncommitted.

Wear or carry for protection against ill wishes and/or curses.

Meditate with Tigers Eye to promote higher self-esteem and confidence.

Remember the crystals effects take place on many levels. These effects can be experienced differently by different people. Color, structure, and chemical composition are all factors that determine how they will effect us.

You may feel the effects immediately or the connection may not be noticed at all. No matter how they effect you, they will effect you in some way.

[jomiddlemarch]

Many happy returns

Q had left a mug-full of dark chocolate covered espresso beans and Moneypenny had disclosed the esthetician she used. James had winked at her while eating a banana very slowly—the banana-consumption, not the winking, and Gareth had woken her with a kiss on the cheek, a tray of a pot of Lady Grey tea, scones, and an obscene amount of Devonshire cream and raspberry jam. All in all, Vivian had counted it a successful birthday, well before Gareth texted her.

Reservations at Cassowary 7pm under Liu

Vivian wasn’t sure why he’d texted her and not simply told her, but the man was a spy after all and he must be forgiven his default tendency towards subterfuge. It wouldn’t have been her choice, to take a black car to the restaurant by herself, presumably to meet him, but she had to accept the gift from the giver. The solo trip did allow her to touch up her face without him watching or interrupting and if she shucked off her heels within seconds of sitting down, there was no one to tell tales.

It became clear why he’d texted when she walked into the restaurant, whose use of feathers in the décor was just this side of exuberant.

“Amy! What? How—what are you doing here?” Vivian exclaimed. Amy, her best friend from college, was fully kitted out in the latest pieces from the latest Boden catalog plus a statement necklace that Vivian would probably tell her was too chunky after their second glass of wine.

“I’m your present. From Gareth, who by the way, yum if I’m allowed to say that,” Amy said after the brief, tight hug they exchanged but before they started in on the first glass of wine.

“You are, and yes. And what?”

“He tracked me down and arranged for me to come in for the weekend. As a surprise for your birthday,” Amy said.

“I can’t believe it,” Vivian said, though it did explain the time she’d caught him fumbling with her phone and some of the appraising glances he’d been shooting her way. She had chalked those up to lust or an assessment of how she’d hold up at The Hague, if they actually had to go. Amy’s arrival was an extremely pleasant alternative.

“Seeing is believing. I’m here for the weekend, put up at Claridge’s by your knight-errant, and there are a pair of tickets to Hamilton waiting for us at the box office tomorrow night,” Amy said.

“Holy shit,” Vivian blurted out. To say he’d gone all out was an understatement.

“Yeah, I thought so too,” Amy said, slugging back the last of her first glass as if it were cheap supermarket wine-in-a-box instead of a very fine 1971 Chateau Trotanoy. “Nice to know you haven’t gone full Brit. I was afraid you were going to say ‘bloody hell,’ just then.”

“No worries on that account,” Vivian laughed. “Gareth would be the first to tell you how American I am.”

“I don’t think he would. I don’t think he can find much of anything wrong with you, Vivi,” Amy said.

“Should he?”

“I’m just saying, however stiff that delicious upper lip is, the man’s bonkers for you. He’d probably say ‘besotted,’ especially if he’s fond of Peter Wimsey novels,” Amy said. Vivian smiled at what Amy said and how. She hadn’t known just how much she missed her friend, but Gareth had.

“Before I forget, he asked me to give you this. I’m going to the ladies’ room for a few minutes, so you can check it out in private, and then we can really catch up,” Amy said, handing Vivian a box wrapped in silver wrapping paper that resembled silk so closely, Vivian couldn’t help stroking a finger along the seams. The card was brief, in Gareth’s terrifyingly elegant copperplate hand.

Dearest Vivian,

Happy birthday. I felt certain you could find a use for these.

Gareth

She quickly unwrapped the box, lifted the lid and saw a half dozen utterly exquisite silk scarves from Hermès. The colors were rich, more Rubens than Vermeer. Each one would look beautiful with a suit or a well-cut wool sheath, but after touching the one that lay on top, she knew Gareth meant them for another purpose and she caught her breath at the image of each one carefully knotted at his bare wrists and ankles. Never a blindfold, not after Belfast, but as long as he could watch her…

“Do you need a moment alone?” Amy said, all the snarkiness undercut by the longest, warmest affection and the amusement of a woman married for over twelve years. Vivian huffed a little, like she was supposed to.

“Good, because I’m hungry—for food. The rest of that, that’ll keep. Though I won’t be annoyed if you want to skip dessert tonight and hurry home,” Amy added.

“Oh, you,” Vivian said happily, glad she was just as old as she was, for the benefits were clearly significant, incomparable, and utterly delightful.

A birthday drabble for the incomparable @tessa-quayle. Apologies for punting on an appropriate accompanying gif of Gareth or Vivian. Or silk scarves...

[glitterisevil-blog]

What Christmas Means to Me

“It’s the most wonderful time of the year” or so the song goes. But not if you’re someone who has mild Aspergers, OCD, or an awkward combination of the two. Even as I write this I’m acutely aware that I’m about to make myself sound like the biggest arsehole known to mankind, but I wanted to share this post to give people a bit of an insight into the way my brain works, and so that when I’m being particularly “un-festive” in the run up to Christmas, there’s a bit more understanding around why. I’m not just being a twat, I’m really not. There are elements of it that I genuinely struggle to cope with.

 Anybody with an Autism Spectrum Disorder or anyone who has a family member on this spectrum will know how difficult certain life situations can be. I’ve read about families who can’t have a Christmas tree, or can’t unwrap presents because they have children with severe Autism who find the whole thing far too stressful. 

Now, at no point here am I implying that this is my situation, nor am I looking to enter into any sort of woe-off contest with any readers of this post. This isn’t about me wanting sympathy; it’s about being able to express my feelings. Year after year I’ve been labelled a Grinch because I’m not skipping through Tesco whistling Jingle Bells whilst cheerfully stockpiling boxes of Quality Street, nor will you find me watching Muppet’s Christmas Carol the minute that Bonfire Night is done with. And I need to explain why…

 As long as I can remember I’ve found the concept of ambiguity quite stressful, and I detest having a lack of control over things. Everyday stuff that most people do without a second thought can cause me untold degrees of angst.

For example, imagine I had to park in a car park in an unfamiliar town, in order to catch a train somewhere. It wouldn’t be enough to just turn up and park there, oh no. I’d need to look online to see how many spaces the car park had to evaluate my chances of getting a space. I’d then need to understand the payment system in advance. Do I take a ticket and pay upon exit? Or do I pay upon entering? If so, will they take my card or will I need coins? Does the car park have a one way system or not? If that car park is full, where is the nearest back-up car park and what’s the distance from the train station? Should I just assume the worst and leave the house twenty minutes earlier than planned in case I need to use that back up car park and then have to walk to the station to get my train on time? It’s unlikely that I’d sleep particularly well the night before the journey either, with much of this going around in my head.

And inevitably, I turn up with plenty of time to spare, grab a coffee on the platform, and catch my train, just like all the normal folk. Everyone just assumes I’m really organised. It takes a lot of cortisol for me to appear this organised.

 So, onto Christmas…descending on us each year like a giant, expensive, tinsel-covered cold sore that we all felt erupting but had no power to stop. Here’s the bit where I make myself sound like a moaning, ungrateful bastard as I list the things I can’t cope with about Christmas. To all those “Buddy the Elf” types amongst you – pin back those pointy ears and brace yourselves….

  Christmas cards

I can’t even express how delighted I was a few years back, when the trend to donate to charity rather than send Christmas cards became a thing. I seem to recall that there may have been some actual air punching involved! Perhaps I’d now be spared the ordeal of cards infiltrating my home over December, sneaking in slowly and nestling themselves Trojan horse style between the electricity bills and bank letters. Perhaps I wouldn’t have to see as many of them lying there on my doormat alluringly, expecting to be unsheathed, admired and displayed in my home for all to see. Well no, I’m not spared that ordeal. Because the majority of people will still send cards, because they think it’s nice for me to receive a card, assuring me that they really want me to have a merry Christmas.

 Someone should pass an Act of Parliament that forces manufacturers to make Christmas cards a uniform size, shape and colour, and then perhaps I might have a chance at a merry Christmas. As it goes, I spend most of December putting them up and continually rearranging them in some semblance of size and shape order, until a new one appears in a random colour or format (a fucking purple star shaped card this year – seriously?!) and throws the entire display into chaos. Don’t even get me started on cards with glitter on FFS.  If you want me to have a merry Christmas, just tell me via text, email or Facebook and then I’ll know that you really mean it.

 Christmas trees and decorations

One day I will live in a mansion that could easily be the main feature article in Ideal Homes magazine. It will have a lounge the size of a church hall, with sleek polished wooden floors that would be the envy of any bowling alley. This lounge will contain nothing but a large sofa, a wall mounted television, a coffee table, and a textured rug. When this day comes, I might consider the concept of a massive, brightly coloured, flashing Christmas tree encroaching on my space. Whilst I live in a modest house, with a small lounge, that looks like an overflow warehouse for Toys R Us due to the amount of baby-related shit that already takes up an entire corner, I’m not entertaining one.

Based on my feelings towards a tree, I’m sure you don’t need me to explain why I won’t drape tinsel round my windows, or have a 2ft high, battery operated snowman in the house that talks to you each time you walk past it.

 Presents

This is the bit that carries the most immense guilt for me because it’s the part I really wish that I could enjoy. Those amazing people that you love dearly and who love you back, have taken time out of their busy week to spend their hard earned cash on choosing a gift for you. They’ve taken the knowledge that they have about you - the colours you like, the interests you have, your shoe size or body shape – and have used it to select a gift that’s just for you. That’s just lovely.

Except its not lovely if you’re me. Because now, a collection of unfamiliar items that I didn’t need or ask for have invaded my “safe space.”

And as well as now having to find homes for all these items, I’m also expected to show delight and gratitude to the giver of each item, and make up nonsense along the lines of “wow I’ve wanted one of these for ages!” when presented with a fucking spiraliser. This, my husband tells me, is what polite and normal people say at Christmas when presented with a gift.

Spoiler alert: I’ve not wanted one for ages, I’m sorry to tell you that this is a barefaced lie. Had this been the case I would already own one, as by now I would’ve identified some deep, primal urge to carve courgettes into the shape of spaghetti, and then trotted along to John Lewis to buy whichever gadget best made this happen.

So we can all safely assume that the fact that I didn’t already own a spiraliser means that I didn’t really want a spiraliser. But that’s a moot point because now I have one. And I have to store it somewhere in my house logical enough to convince the giver that I will use it (like the cutlery draw) and not somewhere unconvincing (like the wheelie bin) but each time I go to get a fork from the draw, seeing that bastard spiraliser sat there taking up space will remind me that I’m a horrible, ungrateful person who doesn’t deserve nice people in my life.

Now, gift cards are great, because they mean that I am in full control of all the purchases that will come into my house, and such purchases will cross the threshold following a great deal of prior consideration like whether they are needed, where they will live, and how they will be used. The beauty of the gift card is that if it happens to be for somewhere that I won’t ever shop, then I can simply choose not to use it, or re-gift it to someone who will. Yes, gift cards are good.

 Food

Franz Kafka once said that so long as you have food in your mouth, you have solved all questions for the time being. So based on this logic, during the month of December I must have solved more questions than The Beast, The Governess, and The Dark Destroyer from The Chase put together, because I literally DID NOT STOP EATING.

Food and drink are my Achilles heel, cheese especially so. Wine definitely. So having copious quantities of them around the house within easy spreading and pouring distance makes for a very difficult and uncontrolled time of year for me.

If I could merely enjoy them for what they were, and worry about the weight gain in January like everyone else does then it wouldn’t be as stressful. But that’s not how someone like me works, with my daily (sometimes twice daily) weigh ins, or my need to exercise excessively at the gym to erase the calories from a “bad” food day. Food should be enjoyed and respected. It should be shared with friends and family. It should be fuel for exercise. Food should not take the form of a tin of Roses, shovelled with wild abandon into your mouth, one after another, until you feel so violently ill that you have to put yourself to bed to resist the urge to throw them all up and start again like some sort of Roman emperor.

My unhealthy relationship with food can pretty much be kept in check from January to November because at no other point in the year do people find it acceptable to bring home a 24 pack of mince pies every time they nip to the garage for diesel. At no other point do we give ourselves carte blanche to get as fat as we want because we’re supposed to “eat drink and be merry” at this time of year. The entire concept of excessive Christmas eating, for me, dredges up far too many demons that I’d rather not face. Except not only am I expected to face them, I’m expected to welcome them in, pour them a Baileys and offer them a Ferrero Rocher because these demons have Christmas fucking jumpers on. It’s bollocks.

 So there you have it, a little glimpse of what it’s like to live inside my head over the festive period. And nobody needs to remind me of how unbelievably lucky I am to have these “problems” at Christmas because I already know this to be true, which only serves to compound the feelings of guilt that I feel when I read some of this back.

Next Christmas my son will be 18mths old and will want the WORKS! A huge tree adorned with glittery ornaments, Santa’s “snowy” footprints stomped out in the lounge, gaudy stockings hung up on the fireplace. So it’s possibly time I addressed all of these issues. Or at least some of them. I draw the line at tinsel.